The extraction point was little more than a clearing cut into the forest.
Three Rocket transport trucks waited beneath portable floodlights, their engines humming in the early morning cold.
Medical personnel moved between the arriving recruits, checking wrist devices, treating injuries, and separating those who had passed from those who had failed.
Nobody celebrated loudly.
Most were too tired.
Adrian stepped into the clearing with Croagunk beside him and noticed how few people had arrived.
The trial had begun with well over a hundred recruits.
He counted fewer than forty in the clearing.
More would come from other extraction points, but the difference was still obvious.
Some had failed to collect three codes.
Others had activated their emergency beacons.
A few may still have been somewhere in the wilderness, unaware that the timer had ended or too injured to reach extraction without help.
A Rocket medic approached.
“Wrist.”
Adrian held out his arm.
The medic scanned the device.
A green light appeared.
“Four codes.
Pass.” He glanced at the extra digit before Adrian could ask.
“Surplus already logged.
Fifty TRP for the fourth.
It scales from there if you’d gone higher.
Most people don’t.”
“How much higher?”
“Depends how you got them.” The medic’s tone made clear this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have twice.
“Someone who spends three days farming panicked recruits for a stack of easy codes doesn’t get treated the same as someone who took theirs off two of the strongest people in the class.
Command reads the how, not just the number.” He nodded toward Croagunk.
“Pokémon injured?”
“Bruising.
Mostly recovered.”
“Anything severe during the trial?”
“No.”
The medic nodded and waved him toward the left side of the clearing.
“Passed recruits there.
Keep your Pokémon out if it’s capable of walking.
Anyone requiring treatment goes to the second truck.”
Simple.
No congratulations.
Adrian preferred it that way.
He crossed the clearing and spotted Mason almost immediately.
Machop sat beside him with both arms heavily bandaged.
Mason himself had a bruise covering most of one cheek, but he was smiling.
“You’re alive.”
Adrian stopped beside him.
“Disappointed?”
“Deeply.”
Mason held up his wrist.
3/3.
Adrian nodded.
“How?”
“How?” Mason looked offended.
“I fought.”
“Of course you did.”
“I got two checkpoints.”
“And the third?”
Mason’s smile became much less proud.
“I stole it.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
“While someone slept.”
That was more surprising.
Mason noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“I didn’t think you had the patience.”
“I was patient for nearly four minutes.”
Adrian laughed.
Mason pointed toward his wrist.
“It worked.”
That was all Team Rocket cared about.
Selena arrived less than ten minutes later.
Her jacket was torn down one sleeve, and Magnemite had several scratches across its metallic body, but both appeared functional.
Mason stared.
“Don’t tell me.”
Selena raised her wrist.
4/3.
Mason’s face fell.
“You got four?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“None of your business.”
Adrian smiled faintly.
Mason pointed at him.
“How many did you finish with?”
“Four.”
Mason’s face fell again.
“Both of you?”
“Not the whole time.” Adrian considered how much of it was worth explaining.
“I had four after a fight with Darius.
Gave one to a Weedle trainer for information.
Ended up back at four after someone tried to take mine instead of settling for her own.”
Mason stared at him.
“You gave away a code on purpose.”
“I already had enough.”
“You could’ve sold it for TRP after the trial.”
“Could I?”
Mason opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Neither of them knew.
Selena looked at Adrian more carefully.
“What information?”
“Safe routes.
Shelters.
A recruit hunting completed devices.”
“Rhea.”
Adrian looked at her.
“You met her?”
“She tried.”
Selena’s expression suggested the meeting hadn’t ended pleasantly.
“Magnemite?”
“Thunder Wave.”
That explained enough.
Mason leaned back against the truck.
“I never saw her.”
“You were probably too busy punching everyone you met,” Selena said.
“Worked for me.”
“For once.”
The three fell quiet.
Around them, more recruits arrived.
Some walked.
Some limped.
One was carried into the medical truck with a deep burn running across his shoulder.
Another arrived alone, clutching an empty Poké Ball.
Adrian didn’t ask.
The boy’s expression answered enough.
Eli.
The Weedle trainer entered the clearing with mud covering almost his entire uniform.
Weedle remained perched on his shoulder.
His wrist showed three codes.
Adrian smiled.
Eli noticed him and walked over.
“Still got them.”
“I see.”
Mason looked between them.
“You know him?”
“We traded.”
Eli corrected him.
“I sold him information.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Eli seemed very particular about the distinction.
Adrian understood why.
Someone whose primary advantage was information needed people to treat it as valuable.
Mason looked at Weedle, then at Eli’s wrist.
“You passed with that?”
Eli’s expression became cold.
“Weedle has a name.”
Mason raised both hands.
“Didn’t mean anything by it.”
Adrian glanced at him.
Mason actually looked embarrassed.
Good.
The first month had humbled people in different ways.
Before anything else could be said, a Rocket officer climbed onto the hood of the lead truck.
“Passed recruits load up.
We leave in five.”
No ceremony.
Everyone obeyed.
The ride back to Cerulean Base took nearly two hours.
Unlike the trip into the trial zone, the windows weren’t blacked out.
That was Adrian’s first clue that something had changed.
The recruits could see where they were going.
Maybe not the base entrance itself.
The final approach still passed through a concealed underground tunnel.
But enough to recognize roads, landmarks, and the general direction.
They weren’t temporary candidates anymore.
Or at least Team Rocket expected some of them to become permanent.
Croagunk slept for almost the entire ride.
Adrian let it.
The Poison-type had spent three days walking, fighting, hiding, and maintaining watch.
It deserved the rest.
Adrian remained awake.
He watched Kanto pass outside the window.
Fields.
Forests.
Small settlements.
People living ordinary lives without ever realizing a truck full of Team Rocket recruits was passing them.
A month ago, Adrian had belonged to that world.
Barely.
Now he wasn’t sure he could return even if he wanted to.
That thought didn’t frighten him.
He’d made his choice before entering the Copper Mug.
Everything since then had only confirmed it.
Cerulean Base was busier than Adrian remembered.
After three days in the wilderness, the artificial lights and crowds felt almost overwhelming.
Rocket personnel moved through the underground streets as though nothing unusual had happened.
To them, nothing had.
Recruitment trials were routine.
Candidates survived.
Candidates failed.
New grunts entered the organization.
The machine kept moving.
The returning recruits were directed straight to Assembly Hall One.
Nobody was allowed to visit the Pokémon Center first unless their partner required emergency treatment.
Adrian didn’t like that.
But Croagunk’s injuries had mostly healed.
He could wait.
The hall filled slowly.
Adrian counted this time.
Eighty-three.
That was it.
Eighty-three recruits had passed.
From roughly two hundred who’d entered the first trial.
Less than half.
Some of those who failed would leave with debts.
Some might still find low-level work with Rocket.
Others would disappear back into Kanto.
The eighty-three standing in the hall had earned something different.
Mercer entered fifteen minutes later.
No officers followed him this time.
He stopped at the center of the stage.
“Eighty-three.” His eyes moved across the room.
“Better than expected.”
That surprised Adrian.
Mason whispered, “That’s encouraging.”
Selena replied, “For him.”
Mercer continued.
“The first trial proved you could acquire a Pokémon and establish enough control to survive.
The month afterward proved you could act without supervision.
The second trial proved you could operate alone while competing against people who wanted the same resources.” He clasped his hands behind his back.
“That is enough.”
The screens behind him illuminated.
One word appeared.
Grunt
Several recruits straightened.
Mercer almost smiled.
“Congratulations.”
There was no applause.
Nobody dared interrupt.
“You are no longer candidates.” The word on the screen changed.
Team Rocket Personnel
“You are Grunts.”
Mason quietly exhaled beside Adrian.
For all his confidence during the month, the title mattered to him.
Adrian understood.
A grunt sounded unimpressive.
In the stories he remembered, Rocket Grunts were nameless enemies waiting in hallways to be defeated.
Here, it meant something different.
It meant access.
Resources.
Missions.
A path upward.
Mercer pressed a control.
Every Rocket ID in the room beeped simultaneously.
Adrian removed his.
Team Rocket ID
Name: Adrian Rank: Grunt TRP Balance: 537 Trial Status: Passed Mission Authorization: B-Rank
Recruitment Completion Reward: +500 TRP
Adrian’s eyes widened slightly.
His balance updated.
1,037 TRP
Over a thousand.
Around the room, surprised voices broke out.
Even Mason looked stunned.
“Five hundred?”
Mercer waited for the noise to settle.
“You survived two trials and completed one month of evaluation.
Team Rocket doesn’t expect you to begin your career with nothing.”
That sounded generous.
Adrian assumed there was a catch.
Mercer proved him right.
“Your next Pokémon is not provided.” There it was.
“Your equipment is not provided.” Another.
“Advanced training isn’t provided.” His expression hardened.
“Team Rocket rewards contribution.
It does not support dependency.”
Adrian liked that philosophy more than he probably should have.
“You now have access to permanent Grunt dormitories, expanded missions, additional sections of the Rocket Market, and standard black-market services.”
The screen changed.
Several newly unlocked categories appeared.
Pokémon Acquisition Specialized Training Manuals Move Tutors Intelligence Services Identification Services Black-Market Auctions
Adrian’s attention stopped on one.
Identification services.
That probably included forged paperwork.
Fake trainer licenses.
Ownership documents.
Exactly the sort of resources Team Rocket’s underground network would excel at producing.
Mercer continued.
“Some of you will remain in Cerulean.
Some will eventually transfer.
Celadon, Saffron, and Viridian have significantly larger operations.
Smaller bases exist throughout Kanto.”
Several recruits exchanged glances.
“Transfers require either mission need, sponsorship, or sufficient TRP.”
There it was again.
Everything came back to value.
Mercer looked across the surviving recruits.
“You may remain ordinary Grunts for the rest of your careers.” His voice carried no judgment.
“Team Rocket requires ordinary members.”
Then his eyes sharpened.
“Some of you will become Team Leaders.”
Another rank appeared.
Team Leader
“Fewer will become Officers.”
Officer
Then…
Elite Officer
The room grew quieter.
“Above them are the people whose names most of you will never hear.”
The screens went dark.
Adrian already knew some.
Giovanni.
Sabrina.
Koga.
Lieutenant Surge.
The public would have been horrified to know just how deeply Team Rocket’s influence reached.
Mercer stepped away from the center.
“Your recruitment is complete.”
For the first time since Adrian had met him, the Elite Captain seemed almost finished with them.
Almost.
“One final piece of advice.”
Everyone waited.
“Do not confuse becoming a Grunt with becoming valuable.” Mercer’s gaze passed over them.
“You have earned permission to work for Team Rocket.” He turned toward the exit.
“Now earn a reason for Team Rocket to remember your name.”
Then he left.
The hall erupted the moment the doors closed.
Some recruits cheered.
Others began checking their newly unlocked market access.
Mason grabbed Adrian’s shoulder.
“One thousand thirty-seven?”
Adrian looked at him.
“Why would I tell you?”
“You looked happy.”
“I always look like this.”
“No, you don’t.”
Selena was already scrolling through her ID.
“Move tutors.”
Adrian looked toward her.
“What?”
“B-Rank authorization unlocked several.”
Mason checked his own.
“Low Kick specialist.” His entire face changed.
“There.”
Adrian laughed.
“You’ve been talking about that manual for weeks.”
“Not the manual.
An actual tutor.”
Selena looked between them.
“I’m going to the Pokémon Center.”
That was more sensible.
Adrian agreed.
Croagunk needed a proper examination after the trial.
The four of them.
Adrian, Mason, Selena, and Eli.
Walked toward the doors together.
Not because they had formed some official group.
Not because Adrian trusted them completely.
But after a month of surviving the same trials, seeing familiar faces felt natural.
Eli stopped before leaving the hall.
“So what now?”
Mason answered first.
“Train.”
Selena said, “Spend nothing until I know what the new prices are.”
Both looked toward Adrian.
He considered the question.
One thousand thirty-seven TRP.
A level-fifteen Croagunk.
Access to stronger missions.
Normal money beginning to accumulate outside Rocket.
A Berry Blender waiting in his room.
And eventually, a second Pokémon.
Adrian looked down at Croagunk’s Poké Ball.
“Same thing we’ve been doing.”
Mason frowned.
“Which is?”
Adrian pushed open the hall doors.
“Get stronger.”
The underground city stretched ahead of them.
Only now, for the first time, Adrian wasn’t walking through it as a candidate.
He was Team Rocket.