Alex pushed the doors open and was hit by the stench of damp stone, sweat, and rot. Beneath Castelia City stretched a sprawling underground market, dimly lit by flickering lanterns and glowing Pokémon. Stalls, tents, and makeshift shacks occupied the wide subterranean chamber, a purpose-built space carved deep below the sewers, with reinforced concrete walls, load-bearing pillars, and ventilation shafts humming faintly overhead.
Stalls were crowded with worn clothing and battered containers, their surfaces caked in grime, yet the goods themselves were in good quality. Tools showed little wear, food was sealed and properly stored, and some items were too clean to belong in the garbage. There were even Poké Balls, guns, trainer gear, and Pokémon resources for sale, all of it top of the line and brand new.
The people looked ragged, as though they hadn't bathed in months, but their hands were steady, and their eyes followed every movement without panic or hunger. Trades happened quickly, more like routine exchanges than desperate bargaining. The market passed itself off as a refuge for the poor and forgotten, but something underneath it felt controlled, as if everyone here was only waiting for the right moment to earn their way out.
Alex and Rhea stood out the moment they stepped into the market. The crowd's eyes tracking them carefully, cautious but not hostile. It was the kind of attention given to outsiders, people who didn't belong in this side of the world.
"Hey! You're not poor at all!" Rhea exclaimed, drawing even more attention from the crowd.
Alex narrowed his eyes, instantly realizing what he was seeing. This wasn't just a market for the poor to gather and meet their needs. This was a covert organization, something like Team Umbraline, but with a focus on using the homeless's ability to remain invisible in plain sight.
Castelia City was the heart of business and commerce in Unova, which meant money, manpower, and resources changed hands at a dizzying speed. With the right piece of information, a significant portion of that trade could be exploited for profit. And who better to gather it than the homeless, who were ever-present, overlooked, and perfectly positioned within the city.
It was a specialized application of Umbraline's methodology, hiding in plain sight, with the homeless and downtrodden as its agents. They could live the lives they were already living while quietly earning the means to achieve their dreams.
Alex stood his ground at the entrance of the market, with a look that threatened death if provoked. They waited for their supposed contact to show themselves, given that the instructions ended here. A moment later, a young boy rushed over and gestured for them to follow.
Without a word, the pair made their way through the crowd, who gave them a wide berth, their eyes still wary with suspicion. There was a confidence of safety in their demeanor that hinted at their trust in whoever ran this place. Clearly, they must be powerful enough to keep this operation going.
Eventually, they reached the far end of the market and followed a narrow, winding passage, the smell of sewage and rotting garbage growing stronger with every step. The passage ended at another set of double doors, far more robust than the one that had led into the market. The young boy who had guided them gestured for them to go inside before slipping back the way they came.
Alex pushed the doors open with some difficulty. When they opened fully, an overwhelming sight met them. A towering mountain of garbage filled the room, piled high and teetering dangerously, the stench was so strong it stung their eyes and pressed against their lungs.
Alex quickly pulled out a full-face gas mask while Rhea was already ahead of him, protected by her exosuit which kept her isolated from the surroundings.
"Ah, Alex Wattson and Rheabel Argent. Welcome to my abode," a gentlemanly voice called from somewhere within the heaps.
Alex couldn't see who was speaking, but he could sense over a dozen Champion ranked Poison type Pokémon, with one at the peak, hidden beneath the piles of garbage. Strangely, he couldn't sense their trainer anywhere in the chamber, which made him wonder who was speaking.
Suddenly, the mountain of garbage began to shake, toppling into a landslide that threatened to bury them. Rhea acted quickly, donning her Mauler and increasing her stature to well over a dozen feet (3.6 m) tall, taking the brunt of the collapse and shielding Alex.
"Apologies," the gentlemanly voice said. "It has been so long since I have had guests."
From beneath the rubble, a mighty Garbodor emerged, standing as tall as Rhea in her exosuit. He resembled the pile of garbage he had emerged from, nearly indistinguishable when he stopped moving.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said in perfect, gentlemanly speech. "I am the Trubbish King, leader and protector of the Grimefold, and I know what you have come to seek."
"A talking Pokémon!" Rhea exclaimed as she stepped closer.
Suddenly, the piles of garbage erupted as the rest of the Champion ranked Pokémon in the chamber moved to surround them, ready to strike if Rhea took another step. Garbodor, Muk, and Weezing emerged, all Poison types that thrived in human waste.
"It's all right," the Trubbish King said. "She is merely curious. It is not often one encounters a Pokémon such as myself."
"And you're really big too," Rhea added, patting the Trubbish King. "Fascinating. I knew there were Pokémon that could eventually learn to talk, but studies indicate that interest, trauma, and an underlying talent are necessary. To date, only a handful of cases have been documented to speak without using psychic abilities."
"Trauma isn't the word I would use. Desire is far more accurate. Without an intense desire to communicate with humans, the first step to speaking your many languages remains blocked for most. Often, Pokémon are satisfied with body language and the bond they share with their trainers. Rarely do they strive for true communication," the Trubbish King replied, a lonely look in his eyes.
"Aw… that's okay, Mr. Trubbish," Rhea said, hugging him. "I'm sure you'll eventually meet others who can talk as well. You have a very long life ahead of you."
"Perhaps," he replied. "But that will be for another time. I believe you have come to gather information on your father's murderers."
"Oh, yeah… How did you know? I'm still under Zoroark's illusion."
"We remember your scent from when we helped you escape. We are glad to see you have grown well."
"Ah, that makes sense. Anyway, what can you tell me about my father's partners? I need very specific schedules and personal details."
"We have plenty of information on what you seek, but we will not give it for free."
"No problem! I've got plenty of money. I haven't spent a Poké dollar since I started working for Alex."
"It is not money we seek, but favors of equal measure."
"What do you want?" Alex interrupted.
He had sensed a side quest coming ever since he entered the market. Organizations like these always demanded an equal exchange, and money was something they had plenty of to keep their operation running. This meant he would have to work for them to get the information Rhea wanted.
"Since you desire our information on five individuals, then you will also pay with five individuals. We want you to remove certain obstacles in our path. Simply kill them all, and you will have what you seek."
"Are they innocents?"
"Far from it. They are Underworld organizations that will be moving into our territory once you accomplish your ultimate goal in Unova. We simply wish for you to pave the path forward past the chaos you will bring."
"That's fair," Alex replied. "Who are we hunting?"
"We will forward the information to you once you leave."
"You could have simply communicated that from the very beginning," Alex pointed out. "Why bother with this meeting?"
"Respect is due among creatures of our power. We must meet if we are to move forward together."
Alex accepted the answer without much fuss. It made sense to him that Pokémon had their own sense of honor that humans wouldn't innately understand. As for this job on top of a job, he didn't mind. It would still take a while for Iris to finish mapping out the region, so they had plenty of time to kill.
"Very well, consider me commissioned."
"Excellent," the Trubbish King said, patting Rhea's exosuit on the head. "Take care of yourself."
"You too. Bye!" Rhea said, turning to Alex as he led the way back out of the sewers.
Once they were gone, the Trubbish King summoned his network operator, the human in charge of overseeing the Grimefold's operations.
"Contact Orvan Kestrel discreetly and let him know he's being hunted," he ordered.
"Is that wise? We would be making enemies of Team Dominion, Team Umbraline, and a powerful bounty hunter," the operator asked.
"In trade, it is always important to hedge your bets, especially when the stakes are this high. This way, we can avoid the fallout from Team Dominion's retaliation while still reaping the benefits if Mr. Wattson succeeds. As for the risks, they are minimal at best," the Trubbish King replied.
"Very well," the operator said, making his way out of the noxious chamber.
"This will be a very interesting year for us," the Trubbish King muttered, slowly diving back into his heap of garbage.
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