Pokémon: Tentacruel Gender: Male Potential: Outstanding (Yellow) Ability: Rain Dish Level: 31 Type: Poison / Water Skills: Swords Dance, Absorb, Infestation, Scary Face, Mirror Coat, Poison Sting, Water Gun, Acid, Wrap, Water Pulse, Screech, Bubble Beam, Sludge Wave, Agility, Poison Jab. Status: Calm Evaluation: This Tentacruel has a unique talent for toxicology. It can secrete different toxins based on the trainer's needs. A top-tier choice for any Poison-type specialist.
A Tentacruel with a talent for toxin synthesis... nice, Feng Che thought, his mind already spinning with calculations. If I give this to Agatha as a gift, it would make an incredible apprentice-offering. A Tentacruel that can custom-secrete toxins? That's high-tier stuff.
He watched the jellyfish glide across the slick platform. Its eighty tentacles were remarkably fluid, but Ditto—as an Arbok—was faster. Ditto moved in a sharp Z-pattern, weaving through a flurry of Wrap attempts. Tentacruel overextended, lost its footing on the wet surface, and face-planted into the deck.
"Tentacruel, you okay?" Nakata shouted. This was one of his genuine mainstays. "Use Supersonic!"
Tentacruel let out a piercing, high-pitched screech. Ditto's scales vibrated rhythmically, using the resonance to deflect the sonic waves before they could scramble its senses.
This Arbok is special, Nakata noted greedily. I have a client looking for a high-level Arbok. This one is perfect. Once I get this kid alone, I'll trick him into handing over his team. If he resists... well, my Tentacruel is just one of many.
"Tentacruel, Venoshock!"
The jellyfish's tentacles secreted a dark fluid, firing it like bullets.
"Arbok, Poison Sting!"
Ditto spat a stream of needles so fine they looked like ox-hair. With surgical precision, each needle struck a glob of toxin mid-air, pinning the liquid to the deck.
"Young man, your control is breathtaking," Nakata said, his voice dripping with false warmth. I can't wait to see how much this 'item' fetches on the black market.
"Tentacruel, Sludge Wave!"
A massive tide of toxic filth erupted from the jellyfish, flooding the entire arena. Nakata smirked. Even a Poison-type can't withstand this concentration for long.
"Arbok, swim through the sludge! Thunder Fang!"
"Impossible!" Nakata gasped as the snake tore through the mire without a hint of being poisoned. I must have it! This Arbok is a gold mine!
Feng Che, the "thousand-year-old fox" in the body of a teenager, caught every micro-expression on Nakata's face. Greed is a dangerous thing, Mr. Poacher. You've stolen enough. It's time you became the prey.
Ditto moved with blurring speed, dodging every lash of Tentacruel's eighty tentacles. Finally, Arbok lunged, its fangs glowing with golden electricity that hummed like a thousand chirping birds. It clamped down on the jellyfish's bulbous head.
Tentacruel spasmed as the high-voltage current surged through its body. It lashed out wildly with its tentacles, leaving jagged welts on Ditto's skin, but the snake didn't let go until the jellyfish went limp.
"Good job, Arbok." Feng Che felt a pang of sympathy for the welts on Ditto, but the pink blob just gave him a goofy, triumphant grin.
"Your Arbok is terrifyingly strong," Nakata said, reverting to his harmless sailor persona. "I'll make sure the Captain signs you on as an Escort Specialist."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Nakata!" Feng Che bowed, playing the role of the naive, excited rookie perfectly.
"I promised to teach your Pokémon an Ice move," Nakata added. "Which one do you want to show me?"
"Actually, Mr. Nakata, I don't have a Water-type yet. Maybe you could gift me one?" Feng Che joked.
Nakata laughed it off. "My Pokémon are my friends, kid. I could never part with them. Now, let's go see the Captain."
As they entered the Captain's office, Feng Che froze. Standing there was a man in a cloak with vibrant red hair.
Lance? What is an Elite Four member doing here? Is he hunting the Poacher Syndicate?
Despite the disguise, Feng Che recognized the Dragon Master instantly. Lance, in turn, felt a jolt of surprise. The kid from Death Island? The Rocket mole? What is he doing here?
"Nakata, it looks like your test is over," Captain Kasha said. "By the look on your face, the kid won."
"He did, Captain. He's exceptional."
"Excellent. Welcome aboard, Feng Che. You'll be sharing a cabin with Asuka here," Kasha said, gesturing to the disguised Lance.
Feng Che and Lance exchanged a look and a polite nod, acting like strangers.
"Asuka, Nakata, take the kid to the lower quarters. I need a nap. I'm getting too old for this," Kasha grumbled.
Nakata led them to a remote cabin. Inside, it smelled of salt and old socks. "It's a bit messy, but it's yours. Get some rest before we set sail."
He closed the door, and Feng Che heard his footsteps fade away.
Neither boy spoke for fifteen minutes. Finally, once the footsteps were truly gone, Lance pulled a signal jammer from his ring. The room went silent.
"Last time... thank you for saving my life," Lance said solemnly. He knew the boy was Team Rocket—the enemy. But Lance was a man of honor. "I have a feeling we aren't truly enemies today."
"I'm just a traveler trying to get to Cinnabar," Feng Che replied, sitting on a bunk. "But I think we both know our 'friend' Nakata is more than a simple sailor."
"He's a Poacher," Lance said, his eyes turning cold. "And a high-ranking member of the Syndicate is expected to board this ship in two days for a mass abduction of tourist Pokémon. I'm here to stop them."
"And I," Feng Che smirked, "am just here to make sure my own Pokémon don't end up on his auction block. Since we're both 'undercover', why don't we compare notes?"
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