AStoryForOne
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[Snippet] The Ghost King (Pokémon): Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2025-04-25 01:09:59 +0000 UTCA/N
So, here’s a Pokemon fic I’ve been thinking about for a while. If the title didn’t give it away, it’s going to be a Ghost-type trainer. I wanted an MC that was a bit of a criminal, but not ‘evil.’ Someone who came into Pokemon with a bit of baggage and learned to be happy in a world where friendship is literal magic. That being said, I did also want to add a bit of ‘realism’ to it as well, touching on some things that were heavily glossed over in the canon stuff. However, I also didn’t want to take away from the overall feeling and theme of the world, like how the power of friendship is the driving force and whatnot.
@***@
The early hours of Viridian City were quiet. Despite being a rather decent-sized city, not much sound could be heard from the normally busy and boisterous metropolis.
The sun had just started peeking over the horizon as the light reflected off the high-rises and their glass windows.
In just the right way, reflecting at several angles away, the light hit the window of a certain house, sneaking through the blinds and onto the face of a young man sleeping soundly in bed.
His eyes twitched slightly and gradually opened to welcome the new morning.
His name was Edmund Harrington, and he was not from this world.
It wasn’t his first day here, but he still felt out of body, and his mind was still catching up.
It took him a moment to recall why his room was different than what had been the norm for years beforehand.
Random knickknacks, pictures, and decorations—they were all replaced with something that would look in place in a child’s room back home. But here, it was normal, of course.
Across from his bed was a big poster of Champion Lance.
It had been two months since he had come to the world of Pokémon.
He wondered if it were cosmic coincidence or a sick joke. Should he shout at Arceus, or did he simply fall through the proverbial cracks?
The memories of him were still vivid. Despite how much he drank, he still recalled the bright lights of oncoming traffic when he thought it was a good idea to try and run across a freeway to shave off a half hour on his walk back home from the pub.
The next moment, he woke up in a hospital, but not the one he expected.
The same name, the same face, the same family.
Everything was the same except the world was utterly different.
Coincidentally, his other self had ‘died’ at the same moment, and he somehow woke up here from what he could gather.
They said he had a bad run-in with some Pokémon that put him in a coma for a couple of weeks.
They said that he had been attacked by a few ghosts in one of the nearby abandoned buildings. From what he could glean from the hushed whispers, there were at least a dozen ghosts gathered around him when one of the locals found him unconscious on the ground.
His ‘parents’ refused to talk about it, only vaguely telling him that he was attacked by ghosts. If anything, he noticed that they were a bit more traumatized by the ordeal than he was.
He was still adapting, and it was hard.
Part of the reason was that he was now younger.
He was approaching his late twenties when he died; now, he was back in his teens, not even an adult by his old standard.
Letting himself take a moment to reorient, he then dropped to the ground and crawled under his bed, nudging a loose floorboard, retrieving a journal and a few other things, and setting them on his bed.
Laid out before him was……evidence of certain illicit affairs.
Stolen, he stole a bunch of things.
There was a potion, about 80% full. He nicked it when passing by a trainer who was tending to their Pokémon on a city bench.
He had a fairly decent and well-used survival knife that he had pocketed from a secondhand store while the owner was in the back room. Along with Repel, that was also sitting on the shelf along with it.
There was a spool of fishing line that he had grabbed from a fisherman’s bag when he wasn’t looking.
Perhaps the most expensive item was the Trainer Grade flashlight he had grabbed from someone’s car trunk as they were moving stuff in and out of a building and left it unattended for minutes at a time.
He was fairly sure the flashlight was waterproof and could be charged by solar power.
There were some other odds and ends: a dented thermos that seemed to still work fine, some tinder and a lighter, and a few disposable water filters. Essentially, he had enough stuff that he could quickly grab and run if needed and disappear into the wilderness.
There were also the 480 PokeDollars in a rolled-up wad sitting there too. Suffice to say, the money was also acquired through dubious means.
The last item, however, was probably the most illegal one among the bunch.
There was a single Poké Ball, weathered and a bit old just from looks alone. However, it still worked, based on what he could gather.
The reason it was so illegal was because it was over ten years old and not registered.
Unregistered Poké Balls were very illegal in the Kanto region. The Indigo League cracked down on it hard some years ago, and if you’re caught with an unregistered Poké Pokeball without a good excuse, you can easily lose your right to carry Pokémon, and most likely end up in jail for a few years.
He found it half buried just outside of Viridian City in the forest, in what looked like an old campsite that hadn’t been entirely taken back by nature.
In truth, Edmund almost died the day he found it. Wandering too close to the territory of a Scyther that didn’t take his presence kindly.
That had been his normal routine since waking up here.
It’s not that he considered himself a particularly bad person, but old habits were hard to overcome. He was used to stealing to get by, and in his panic about this new ‘life,’ he resorted to what he knew best.
However, all of that paled in comparison to his notebook.
If anyone found out about this, he couldn’t imagine the consequences. Still, he kept it with that thought in mind because it helped him acclimate better.
He opened it up, rereading what he had written before.
‘Crystal Onix – Orange Islands, ‘Sun-something island,’ find a map of Orange Island that lists all the smaller islands. Orange Islands subsidiary of the Indigo League? Need more information’.
‘Grandfather Cavern – Neon Town doesn’t exist, anime filler only? Near Cinnabar Island, southwest of the Safari’.
He flipped to another page.
‘No Information on Mega Evolution. Undiscovered or government crackdown?
‘Possible Mega Stone Locations’
‘Dragonite Island inside the storm?’
‘Digglet Cavern?’
‘Rumors of a Magikarp gathering near Cinnabar Island, no previous reference.’
Another flipped page.
‘Moonstones.’
‘No real information regarding moonstones yet. Is it possible to sell guaranteed evolutions for Pokémon that require them?
‘No information regarding Fairy-Types at all.’
‘Dynamax—No information’
‘Z-Moves – No information, Alola Region semi-isolated.’
Another page flipped, he looked at the threats he recalled off the top of his head and had written down in case he forgot.
Team Galaxy— No information, no sightings. Region information is scarce.
Team Aqua/Magma— No information, no sightings. Information was most likely filtered.
Legendary Sightings—Articuno sighted in the south, between Kanto and presumably where the Orange Islands are. Freak snowstorm—cold fronts sweeping inward, verified information about unnatural weather.
That last one, Team Rocket.
Eight thefts of Pokémon by trainers were reported on the general Kanto forums. Three actual recorded sightings of unidentified people wearing the logo. Looked up older records, warnings of trainers being attacked going back over a year. No records are listed in Veridian City, home of Gym Leader Giovanni—presumably the leader of Team Rocket.
The last page he turned to.
‘Important characters:’
‘No trainer by the name of Ash Ketchum. No Trainer by the name of ‘Red,’ ‘Blue,’ or ‘Gree’n.’
‘Brock is the leader of the Rock Gym in Pewter, like canon. Some mentions of his parents abandoning them.’
‘Misty is still the younger sister of the Cerulean Gym’s leaders.’
· ‘Noted Difference: Cerulean Gym is known as the weakest, but not to the degree that it’s shown in the anime. Misty’s sisters have a slightly stronger roster befitting a gym, if barely’.
‘Lance is the regional champion.’
· ‘There is some minor backlash since he stepped into the position. Not nearly the degree in some fanfics I’ve read in the past, but Professor Oak gave him an endorsement, and there’s been no obvious ‘evil plans’ in the works so far. Champion Lance has been earning support by actually helping the Kanto Region, and the vocal opposition has become a minority.’
· ‘Lance was seen holding a Seadra, which caused some heated discussions online. Apparently, it’s not publicly known how a Seadra evolves into a Kingdra—possible avenue to make some money.’
‘Professor Oak is a credited and highly appraised Pokémon scientist. No post-war high-tension scenario outside of some politics. Couldn’t find a single bad word said about him online.’
Edmund took a deep breath, closing his journal.
He wouldn’t call himself an expert in Pokemon, but he had played almost all the games and knew enough about it to feel somewhat competent to talk about it in the past. One of the first things he did when he got out of the hospital was research to see if it was some weird iteration of the world he ended up in.
In his boredom in his life, he had read a bunch of things and whatnot, so he was relieved to see that the world wasn’t anything crazy.
However, a lot of information he was privy to was restricted. To get onto the Trainer forums and have access to the latest news regarding trainers and the region, he needed a Trainer’s license.
It wasn’t particularly hard to get; it was more like an ID than anything. Everyone, for the most part, got one when they turned sixteen.
And that had surprised him when he woke up.
It wasn’t ten years old that people go on their journeys here; it was sixteen, which sounded much more reasonable.
Lucky for him, he was turning sixteen this week.
It was half the reason he had been…acquiring certain things the past couple of months, in preparation for his sixteenth birthday, as well as his own paranoia.
He was very thankful that the whole war business wasn’t particularly prevalent as well. In fact, he had to go digging for hours to find nearly any mentions of the war beyond ‘it happened.’
It seemed like everyone in power wanted to bury it far down so the younger generation didn’t get any ideas.
That was fine with Edmund; he didn’t care about the war, the people involved, or the political agendas; he just cared about his own interests getting swept up into any of that crap.
Though, truthfully, he didn’t even know what his own interests were right now.
In the months he had so far spent here, he still had no idea what he was doing or what he wanted to do.
Become a Trainer? That was a given, but beyond that, he was still lost.
He had a vague idea, but from what he was able to read online, he hesitated. He didn’t shy away from the dirty work, the stuff that people turn their noses up at. He had done enough shady things in the past for some money that he wouldn’t even blink at more, but he was still considering it.
The thought of being a rare Pokémon catcher came to mind.
It wasn’t illegal, as it was nearly impossible to police that sort of thing. How were you supposed to tell a Trainer what Pokemon they were and weren’t allowed to catch beyond specific situations? Were you supposed to police their intent, or maybe who they trade with? Are you supposed to tell a Trainer they have to keep a certain Pokémon they capture rather than get rid of it?
There were too many issues to make any real laws against rare Pokemon catchers in a broad scope. Obviously, the normal things applied: disrupting Pokemon ecosystems could land you in trouble, poaching could also get you in hot water, and normal things like that.
Though poaching was...an odd thing here.
For Edmund, it was far too exploitable and easily dismissible to have any real teeth.
The issue that came with it was that Pokemon Catchers were…almost universally despised. The bonds between a Trainer and their Pokemon were something sacred; hearing that someone was going out to capture and sell Pokemon went against a near-universal belief on what being a Trainer was all about.
Likewise, it was also something much needed in the world. When a rich idiot wanted a specific Pokémon for their kid, who did they go to? When a professor wanted to study a specific Pokémon, who did they go to? When some random trainer wanted a specific Pokémon for their team, who did they buy from?
Of course, many people don’t really think about those things. They benefit from the acts but turn their noses up at the people doing them.
That was fine for Edmund; he didn’t need people’s acknowledgement, he just wanted a lucrative job and to live his life free.
He already knew where some valuable Pokémon were, untouched by the years, so he could get an early start and make a name for himself in certain circles rather quickly.
Edmund carefully put everything away, bar only the knife and a map of the region, a bit worn and torn as well.
It had several marks on it, places he had explored in the surrounding forests close to town. He circled a new spot with a marker, then folded the map and put it in his pocket before hiding his knife in his waistband before leaving his room.
@***@
Edmund walked downstairs to the kitchen; he was the last one to arrive for breakfast.
His house was…nice, big, and spacious, clearly costing more than what a normal family could afford.
Edmund came from money; at least, he was well-off compared to the average person. He wouldn’t call his family wealthy, but they generally didn’t have to worry about finances and could get most things they wanted. That was true based on the memories he inherited from his other self.
Though, in fact, it was familiar to him as well.
However, there were things that also were jarring to look at.
His family greeted him moderately, though there was no hostility there. A simple acknowledgment of his presence and nothing more.
At the head of the table sat his father—Alistair Harrington.
He wore a nice suit, getting ready to head to work after breakfast. He worked at a local company, the name of which escaped Edmund, but he was a higher-up. Not the CEO or anything like that, but high enough that he was important.
His mother put a plate of food in front of him before taking her seat at the side of his father.
Elizabeth Harrington.
She was from a similarly well-off family on her maternal side. His mother was a stay-at-home mom, but she inherited enough from her own parents that she didn’t have to work a day in her life. Though she did have a side job of designing clothing and selling the designs to companies or individuals that wanted them.
At least, that’s what Edmund thought; he didn’t know the specifics and never bothered to ask for more details.
For Edmund, in this moment, he particularly didn’t care to know either. As it was, it was very disjointing to not see his mother drowning herself in wine.
Edmund also unconsciously flinched sometimes when his father reached for something close to him.
Years of certain things were just engrained into his mind despite them not being true here.
On the opposite side of the table sat his eldest brother—Bartholomew Harrington. He wore a suit not dissimilar to their father's and had slicked-back hair with stylish glasses adorning his face as he read the local paper.
Bartholomew—Barty, as they nicknamed him around the house—worked under their father, albeit several positions below him, at the same company.
Edmund still remembered when his own Barty had left, joining the military and never seeing each other again.
He didn’t blame his brother back then; he would have done the same if he could at the time with how messed up their family had become.
Lastly, there was his other brother, the second oldest.
Benjamin Harrington.
He was a stark contrast to both his parents and even his eldest brother. Benjamin looked like a stereotypical beach boy. He had long hair, tanned skin, and mostly wore flip-flops. Yet, neither his parents nor Bartholomew said anything about his appearance.
In fact, they were proud of him; he had his own company, and he had several boats over in Vermillion City that did all sorts of things depending on who purchased their services. Chartered boat rides were common to various places. Fishing expeditions, or just people wanting to rent them out for the day to try and catch some aquatic Pokémon.
Edmund remembered that the most common use was people wanting rides over to Cinnabar Island. He remembered his brother mentioning that there were always new Trainers that didn’t have a flying or swimming Pokemon and needed a ride to challenge the Gym over on the island.
Benjamin himself had a Pidgeot to fly over to Vermillion City every morning despite living here in Viridian City.
In fact, Edmund’s family all had some decent Pokémon. Even his parents, who do rather mundane things compared to the world, each had their own Pokémon teams, or perhaps a handful of Pokémon they kept, that they took care of even if they didn’t keep up with training.
That was the norm for this world.
Still, it was hard for Edmund to divorce the memories of his brother Benjamin from the one who sat across from him.
They had similar…presences; however, the one he remembered before had left the world with everyone hating him.
He was also a consequence of their bad family, getting into drugs early on, trying to be a musician, and dying from a drug overdose a few years after he just disappeared from the house one day without telling anyone.
That left him, Edmund Harrington, the last member of their dysfunctional family that had been to juvie twice before he became an adult from stealing.
The thing was, Edmund remembered a time before everything went to shit that was similar to this. He used to think he was imagining things, but coming back here, the memories became more vibrant.
A time when he was maybe five, maybe younger; it was hard to pinpoint. A time when his family hadn’t fallen to shit, when their dad still had a good-paying job, their mom was still a good mom, and they had what they needed.
It’s not that he was completely oblivious either; his brothers—before they left—didn’t hold back telling him how good things were when they were kids.
But the family quickly went down the gutter when their father got fired from his job for embezzlement. They had to clear out their savings to pay off the debts they owed, and he only narrowly escaped going to prison.
He became…heavy-handed with his annoyance, and an alcoholic was just par for the course.
His mother went down a similar route, though she just drowned herself in cheap wine and completely checked out from parenthood.
Both his brothers left before he had even turned twelve.
By the time he was eighteen, the only family he had left was the brother of his that up and left for the military and never looked back.
His mother drank herself to death. His father finally decided that life wasn’t worth going on after that happened. Maybe it was Benjamin overdosing a year prior that set everything in motion.
Maybe it was inevitable that Edmund’s own life followed the same path. Stealing was just something he needed to do to get by, but it was second nature, maybe with some other petty crimes that he stopped caring about.
Yet, he sat here, in front of a…loving family that wore all the faces of people he had started to forget about.
The first few days he was here, he thought he was in his own personal hell, being shown what could have been compared to his own shitty life.
A couple of months...he still had trouble adapting.
He had the same thoughts every morning.
“Hey, Dad, did you see the news?” Barty asked, holding the newspaper up.
“Mmm, Devon Corp just released the news that their Fossil Extraction technology reached the point where they can begin rolling out their products for commercial use.” He summarized the article.
“How’s the company going to react?” Barty asked.
“We’ve known for a few months now, and we’ve already made preparations. It’s no secret, Silph Co. had already started buying up a lot of land that we suspect may hold the most fossils in the region.”
Edmund listened intently to their conversation, picking up the important tidbits about the timeline he was living in.
It surprised him when he found out after coming here that both his father and brother worked at Silph Corp., one of the most famous companies in the Kanto Region. The ones who created the upgrade for Porygon created the glasses that let someone see ghosts and even created the Master Ball. Not to mention they’re heavily into the TMs that were so prevalent in the games. The Technical Machines as they’re also called, are the things that let Pokemon learn moves instantly.
He had heard nothing about the supposed Master Ball, so he assumed it’s either not realized yet or it’s so heavily under lock and key that no one dared to even mention it.
“Do we have to talk about work at the table, guys?” Benjamin grumbled. “If I wanted to hear this kind of thing, I’d be wearing a suit and sitting in on board meetings.”
Edmund frowned as he watched his father smile. It was something that he believed would never cease to make him wary.
“How’s the boating, son?”
Benjamin rolled his eyes. “It’s going good, Dad. We just bought another 50-footer since work had picked up.”
Their father nodded. “It’s a good investment; even if everything went under, you could still recoup some cost from selling the ship.”
“You’re seeing more work these days, then? Have you considered hiring more employees and expanding the company more than just getting another boat?” Barty joined in.
“Nah, we don’t think it’s normal. A bunch of the captains with more experience than me are saying it’s just because of the cold winds that popped up recently that have been causing hell on the waves and making it harder for trainers to fly or swim around the islands.”
“It’s important to listen to them; they know what they’re talking about.”
Edmund nearly did a double take because something like that would have never left his father’s mouth before.
“Come on, boys, no business talk at breakfast; you know the rules.” His mother casually said with an eye roll as she nudged her husband.
“Yes, dear.” Their father grunted.
“Speaking of Trainers – “ Benjamin started again. “We’ve got a new one coming up soon, don’t we?” He looked at Edmund, and everyone else turned to him as well. “What do you think, little brother?”
Edmund clammed up a little; he didn’t know what to say. “I’m excited.”
It made the atmosphere awkward. Just like how Edmund had woken up in a strange world, his ‘family’ didn’t miss how he was acting these past months.
“Come now, Eddie, give us more than that.” His mother had a gentle smile as she tried to coax more out of him. “What Pokemon do you want? Maybe your father and I can pull some strings, hmm?”
Ed felt a bout of nostalgia as she called him ‘Eddie,’ a nickname she used to call him before things went downhill. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it here, but it never ceased to bring up those feelings.
“Barty here asked for an Eevee.” The patriarch of the family pointed out.
“It’s a respectable Pokémon.” Barty nodded.
Benjamin rolled his eyes. “Let him do things his way. You know how everyone gets all pissy when they find out you ‘bought’ your first Pokémon?”
Barty scoffed. “Who cares what those lowlifes think? A Pokémon represents not just the person but their associates as well. You won’t get far in a respectable business without a respectable Pokémon.”
Their father actually nodded along with what Barty said.
That was one of his modus operandi.
They weren’t the most wealthy, they weren’t the most powerful or influential, but their father also put forth that we had to look proper at all times.
A respectable Pokémon was just another one of those things.
It was all about appearances.
“My first Pokémon was a Pidgey.” Benjamin shot back, crossing his arms. “Do you have something against him?”
“I didn’t say that.” Barty scrunched his nose. “A Pidgey has a third-level evolution; it’s a proven strong Pokémon line, and it’s shown up plenty of times in championship matches or league matches.”
Benjamin scoffed. “That’s why you couldn’t make it as a Trainer, Barty.”
“I was top 16 in the Indigo League.”
“And you got rolled by a kid with a Squirtle against your Flareon.”
“He had a type advantage!”
“That’s a bullshit excuse, and you know it. Flareon knows plenty of non-fire attacks that could have easily taken out even the best Squirtle!”
“Boys.” Their mother said sternly, making them both back off.
“Benjamin, don’t insult Barty’s accomplishments. Getting into the top 16 is no small matter; it’s opened up plenty of doors to him, and you know he never intended to be a Trainer for more than one season. And Barty, don’t insult other people’s Pokemon; you know what you were doing.” Their father said rather expressionlessly, as if it were a normal instance of bickering that he dealt with every day.
Edmund knew what went unsaid. He meant, don’t publicly insult another person’s Pokemon; it was considered crass, even if he agreed that he didn’t particularly agree with Benjamin’s choice of a Pidgey as his first Pokemon and ace.
Barty frowned, then sighed. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Your Pidgeot is probably the best Pidgeot I’ve ever seen. I’ve never heard of one able to fly as long as yours does.”
“Yeah….sorry for dissing your placing. I didn’t even get into the top 32. You did good, Barty.” Benjamin replied.
Edmund frowned too.
It was too different.
He doesn’t know if he ever recalled a memory of his brothers apologizing to each other. If anything, bickering usually escalated into actually fighting.
“What Pokemon do you think you would want, Eddie?” His mother started again.
“If you want a water type, I know a good few spots to try and find some of the rarer Pokemon.” Benjamin leaned in. “If you want a Gyarados, just blink twice.”
“Bartolowmew Harrington!” His mother raised her voice. “Don’t you dare put thoughts into your brother’s head about having one of those things.”
It was no secret that Gyarados were one of the most dangerous Pokémon and had a very bad, albeit earned, reputation.
Benjamin just laughed, as did his other brother and father, even if they tried to hide it under their mother’s glare.
“Eevee has many good evolution paths.” Barty added, not elaborating, but it was a genuine effort to contribute for him.
“I know a few reputable breeders too. If you want a Meowth or a Persian, I could talk to some people,” his mother added.
They all looked at him expectantly.
However, Edmund again didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t the awkwardness this time; it was something else.
His eyes trailed down to his mother’s Meowth that was ‘sleeping’ in its cat bed in the corner of the room.
Ever so slightly, it had one eye open, staring back at Edmund.
In fact, it had been staring at him this entire time, like it always does.
It wasn’t just normal cat behavior; it was as if the Meowth was waiting for him to do something, waiting for him to make a move so it could pounce and attack.
Pokemon didn’t like him.
He didn’t know why, but bar one case—the Chansey that tended to him while he was in the hospital—every other Pokemon he ran into had visibly disliked him.
No one else had noticed but him at this point.
“I don’t know,” Edmund finally said softly.
Both his mother and father shared a look, then smiled.
“We wanted to hold off until tomorrow to tell you, but since we’re already at this point…” His father trailed off.
“What your father means to say is that we pulled some strings, and we got you a slot in Professor Oak’s evaluation.”
“Really?” Barty’s eyes widened.
“That’s amazing!” Benjamin joined in.
“What’s…this evaluation?” Edmund found himself asking.
His father hummed. “Well, most new trainers don’t hear about it. But Professor Oak generally evaluates some new trainers and sees if they’re fit to be sponsored by him. This includes a Pokedex, one of the three famous starters of your choice, and some additional resources in the form of stabling and Pokemon management.”
“It’s a highly valued position.” Barty added in. “Every sponsor of Professor Oak’s ends up being a well-known Trainer or person of importance in whatever field they get into. The Squirtle I lost“ to—“He shot Benjamin a look”—came“ from a sponsor of Professor Oak.”
Edmund, of course, knew a bit more now that it was explained. He remembered people like Ash Ketchum or even Professor Oak’s grandson, who had been sponsored by him.
He didn’t know that the professor did it annually either.
They were all excited for him, but Edmund could only smile wryly.
His father reached across the table and patted his shoulder. “Even if you don’t like the starting three, Professor Oak has plenty of Pokemon that you will pretty much have your pick of the lot.”
Edmund found it hard to celebrate, not because the idea wasn’t exciting, but because they all assumed he was a sure win for this ‘evaluation.’
He took another look at Meowth and sighed in his heart.
He just hoped that maybe Professor Oak could help with his ‘problem.’ Maybe there would be a Pokemon there that wasn’t scared of him.
“Can I be excused?” Edmund got up. “I want to go on my morning run.”
“Go ahead, dear.” His mother gave him permission.
“Must be too excited to sit still.” His father mused aloud.
He had been doing ‘morning runs’ for weeks now, so they were nothing new to his family. Even supported, they all knew the importance of a Trainer having good stamina and being quick on their feet.
Edmund only relaxed once he got out of the house, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He quickly put some distance between him and his ‘family’ before.
However, he put such thoughts to the side for now.
He didn’t escape just to get away from the awkwardness; he had a job to do. A self-imposed job, but a job all the same.
He found the bush behind the local Pokécenter, pushing the thick leaves out of the way to find the bag he left here yesterday.
Inside was a pair of binoculars and a lockpicking set.
They cost him a bit of money to buy from a shady dealer, but they were more than worth the price.
He found his same spot that he had been at for days now, stepping up onto a rock and peeking over a fence. Obscured by several trees and bushes, he was nearly invisible to anyone even looking in his direction.
And he had a perfect view of his target; the PokeMart was currently ‘restocking.’
Normally, this would be pointless to watch, but last week, the Pokemart suddenly had an influx of wild berries.
There was a stark difference between wild berries and lab-grown or even farm-grown berries. The former of which were substantially more expensive and much better than the alternatives.
Likewise, there was no real ‘supply’ due to the nature of them being wild and not properly controlled.
That is to say, there were rumors going around that the Poke Mart here in Viridian City found a large amount of wild berries in the nearby forest that couldn’t be picked all in one go.
Edmund of course wasn't going to rob the Pokemart. However, the location in the forests where they found a bunch of berries, well, those were by definition ownerless because they were wild. The fact that they weren't all picked and it was seemingly a constant supply implied that it was deep enough that they couldn't simply send a bunch of workers and maybe or or two people could venture that deep safely.
If he could track the spot down, he could make a decent amount of money, enough to fund him for a good few months of his Pokémon journey, maybe longer. Or enough that he could just…disappear if needed, for whatever reason.
The paranoid part of him, the petty thief inside of him, kept telling him that he needed to have his own money and not rely on his supposed family. It had always been him alone trying to survive in the world; he didn’t believe it would change just because the world itself was different.
He had been trying to find it for several days now, the map in his pocket where he had checked before and found nothing.
He watched the back door of the PokeMart, and he saw someone sneak out wearing a hat and sunglasses.
Edmund quickly put his stuff away.
It was time to get to work.
Comments
TOS SOT
Hm hearing thrid-level instead of third-stage feels wierd.
Redzeth
They went for cindaquil, mankey, gastly, misdreavus, trevenant, dreepy. So to stand out I'd say to atleast have 2 or 3 of those be different
Redzeth
Do keep in mind you will be competing with "the ghost type specials" on royalroad. U might want to at least have some different team members then they chose
Nazarickk
Thanks for the chapter
Joseph Fera
if i ended up in this situation, i'd probably end up being a psychic type specialist. so your guy would probably kick my ass
D
Wonderfully written. I feel like you really nailed the "strangers wearing familiar faces" vibe that the MC must have been feeling with seeing his "family."
Kz3838
Thank you for the great chapter, very curious to see what his ghost team turns out to be. Stay safe out there and keep up the good work!
