Gastly wobbled like a drunk lantern, hiccups puffing little violet bubbles that sank back into its mist.
Reiji snapped its Ball shut and hard-locked it. Inside, it could rave. Outside, not a chance. The shell twitched once in his palm, then settled.
The color was off. The "face" that should be pitch black had flushed to a deep purple; even the eye whites were lavender—darker than the haze around it. Like a boozer's flush, just spectral. File it: a ghost that can evolve and de-evolve on command, and apparently likes poison.
He finished feeding the team, salved Scyther's frost nip, and let himself fall onto the mattress. Poliwhirl and Ditto sank in on either side—no scarf disguise needed here.
By eight, lanterns blood down the town's single street. Doors opened; trainers spilled out with Balls in hand and trade calls on their lips.
Knock. "Reiji, eight o'clock. Exchange is live," Shun said, hair sleep-mussed.
"I'm up." Jacket, pack, one Ball each for their Poliwhirl, and they stepped into the flow.
It took half a block for the first trade attempt.
"Your Poliwhirl—trade for my Pinsir?"
"Not for trade." Reiji returned Poliwhirl to its Poké Ball.. Shun followed suit. Better that than fielding a dozen repeats.
"Split and sweep," Reiji said. "Ping if you find sothing." Shun peeled off toward the bright knots of stalls.
Saya was out there too, moving with a list in her head—eyes to faces, down to Balls, back up. He let her pass. If paths cross, they cross. Forcing it just adds friction.
Reiji hunted the edges. Foot traffic thinned; voices dropped a notch. Six in ten were Bugs on a glance, the rest mostly Grass and Water. Low odds for a gem, but you only need one.
He found it under a lean lamp and trampled grass: a crouching teen, a steady Pinsir at his knee… and a small golden Shelt hugging itself like a knight's visor.
"This yours?" Reiji asked.
The boy looked up. "Yeah. You… interested?"
"What do you want for it?"
"Scyther," he blurted, then winced—as if he'd watched that word end talks all night.
"Where's it from?" Reiji knelt. The sheen wasn't dust; the shell took the light clean. Real shiny.
"My sister sent it from another region. Shelt. Not from the Orange Islands. People get excited, then I say it can't evolve and… they walk."
Unova, Reiji thought. Soone's scouting past Kanto and Johto. And "can't evolve" isn't the whole story. No lectures. One check first.
"You can trade it without your sister clawing it back later?"
"It's mine. I decide." A beat. "But… do you even have a Scyther? They're forest bosses."
"Wait here," Reiji said. "I'll bring one."
Back into the current.
First stall: "Only for a Pikachu."
Second: wants a Hitmonlee.
Third: not selling, period.
Fourth: a grin and a number big enough to buy half a house.
Reiji turned to go. The man caught his sleeve and dropped his voice. "Black-ship rates. Three million minimum offshore. Two and a half for you. Call it finder's pain."
So there's a boat market here too. Not news—just noise. Reiji paid ₱2,500,000, checked the Scyther: clear eyes, no hollow flanks, mid-forties by feel, edge-wear on the forearms but nothing sloppy. Good enough.
The boy was still pacing the sa square when Reiji ca back. Hope flared; he tried to cage it.
Reiji held up the Ball. "Deal?"
A sharp breath. "Deal."
Swap. The Scyther clipped to the kid's belt; the Shelt clicked into Reiji's hand. Under the shell: a steady pulse of breath, calm and alert.
Pocket the win. Move.
He flowed back into lantern light and barter noise. Sowhere left, Shun worked a stall. Sowhere ahead, Saya kept hunting. Gastly slept in its Ball, still hiccuping purple.
Panels later. Keep walking.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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