Adrian’s new room wasn’t much larger than the old one.
Team Rocket believed promotion from candidate to Grunt deserved an additional desk, a larger storage cabinet, and roughly enough extra floor space for Croagunk to lie down without blocking the door.
Adrian wasn’t complaining.
The room was permanent as long as he remained assigned to Cerulean Base, and unlike the recruit quarters, Grunt housing came with access to a communal preparation kitchen.
That alone made the move worthwhile.
His cheap Berry Blender had spent the previous month vibrating across his desk whenever he tried processing harder ingredients.
Now he had an actual counter.
Croagunk watched from the doorway as Adrian carried the final box inside.
“That’s everything.”
“Croa.”
“No, you aren’t getting the bed.”
Croagunk walked directly toward it.
Adrian grabbed him around the middle.
Croagunk went limp.
“Don’t do that.”
The Poison-type became heavier somehow.
Adrian dragged him backward.
“You have your own.” He pointed toward the Pokémon bed he’d purchased that morning.
Croagunk stared at it.
Then at Adrian’s bed.
Then back at its own.
“Yours is probably more comfortable.”
Croagunk didn’t believe him.
Adrian released him.
Croagunk jumped onto Adrian’s bed.
Adrian sighed.
Some battles weren’t worth fighting.
He unpacked the remaining supplies before checking the time.
Croagunk had been cleared for light training today, but Adrian had no intention of pushing him.
They could spend the morning working on move control before taking a mission in the afternoon.
He wanted to see how different Grunt work actually was.
The training room was nearly empty.
Most new Grunts seemed to be recovering from the trial or exploring their newly unlocked privileges.
Adrian had seen Mason heading toward the Rocket Market earlier, which probably meant his plan to save TRP had lasted less than twenty-four hours.
Croagunk stood ten meters from a practice target.
“No power.”
Croagunk nodded.
“Poison Sting.”
Purple needles flew.
Most struck the center.
“Again.”
Another barrage.
“Smaller spread.”
Croagunk adjusted.
The next volley grouped more tightly.
Adrian watched carefully.
Poison Sting wasn’t powerful.
He’d known that from the beginning.
That didn’t make it useless.
Its range alone gave Croagunk something Fake Out and Cross Chop couldn’t provide.
Against opponents that relied on distance, it prevented Croagunk from being helpless while closing in.
The problem was precision.
Croagunk could fire a broad barrage easily.
Concentrating the needles was harder.
“Again.”
Purple needles struck the target.
Better.
Adrian made a note.
Eventually Croagunk would learn stronger Poison-type attacks.
Until then, Adrian intended to extract everything possible from Poison Sting.
“Mud-Slap.”
Croagunk kicked dirt from the training pit.
Mud struck the second target.
“Again.
Eyes.”
The next attack landed higher.
“Again.”
Croagunk adjusted.
The point wasn’t damage.
During the trial, Mud-Slap had repeatedly created openings against stronger opponents.
Blinding Squirtle had allowed Croagunk to land Cross Chop, and against Nidorina, mud had disrupted its aggressive pressure.
A weak move used correctly could decide a fight.
Adrian had seen enough battles over the month to realize many young trainers didn’t understand that.
They wanted stronger moves.
Higher power.
Flashier attacks.
Adrian wanted options.
“Fake Out.”
Croagunk rushed the target, palm striking.
“Stop.”
Croagunk froze instead of following with Cross Chop.
“Again.”
They repeated the sequence.
Fake Out.
Stop.
Fake Out.
Retreat.
Fake Out.
Mud-Slap.
Fake Out.
Cross Chop without making contact.
Adrian varied the command every time.
Croagunk needed to stop treating combinations as fixed sequences.
An opponent wouldn’t cooperate with a practiced routine.
After forty minutes, Adrian ended the session.
Croagunk protested.
“Medical orders.”
Croagunk crossed his arms.
“You can argue with the medic.”
That ended the complaint.
The threat of three recovery days had left an impression.
The Mission Hall was busier by afternoon.
Adrian ignored the team assignments.
Not because he intended to work alone forever, but because he wanted to understand his own capabilities as a Grunt before adding other people to the equation.
He approached an open terminal.
B-Rank Authorization
Dozens of missions appeared.
He filtered out assignments requiring travel beyond the immediate Cerulean region.
Then he removed anything involving direct conflict with League personnel.
The list shrank considerably.
One mission caught his attention.
Recovery Assignment
Objective: Retrieve stolen Rocket property.
Location: Northern Cerulean Outskirts Target: Two independent smugglers Known Pokémon: Rattata, Ekans Estimated Strength: Baby–Low Beginner Priority: Standard Reward: 140 TRP Additional Reward: 20 TRP if property is recovered undamaged
Adrian reread it.
Two people.
Potentially two Pokémon.
That made it more dangerous than fighting one recruit during the trial.
But their estimated strength was manageable.
More importantly, the mission was close enough that retreat remained realistic if the intelligence was wrong.
He accepted.
The terminal changed.
Assignment Registered
A meeting location appeared.
Adrian frowned.
Not the target location.
A warehouse in the eastern district.
He needed to speak with the mission handler first.
That made sense.
A criminal organization probably didn’t put sensitive operational details on terminals accessible to every Grunt.
Adrian recalled Croagunk and left.
Returning to the eastern district felt different.
The buildings hadn’t changed.
Neither had the cracked roads, crowded apartments, or small shops squeezed between aging warehouses.
Adrian had.
He passed within several streets of the apartment where he’d lived before joining Team Rocket.
He didn’t visit.
There was nothing there he needed.
The warehouse sat near one of Cerulean’s smaller canals.
From the outside, it appeared to be an ordinary distribution business.
Adrian entered through a side door.
A man sat behind a desk surrounded by shipping manifests.
“ID.”
Adrian handed it over.
The man scanned it.
“New?”
“Grunt.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Adrian said nothing.
The man looked at the registration date.
“New.” He returned the ID.
“Two idiots stole from one of our couriers three nights ago.”
“What?”
“Case of Poké Balls.”
Adrian waited.
“That’s it?”
“That’s enough.” New chapters come out on g.com first.
The man’s expression suggested Adrian shouldn’t underestimate how seriously Team Rocket treated theft.
“Why haven’t they sold them?”
“They tried.”
Adrian understood.
“And contacted one of ours.”
“Exactly.”
The handler opened a drawer and removed a photograph.
Two men stood outside a bar.
Both appeared to be in their twenties.
“Cal and Warren.
Small-time smugglers.
Occasionally move stolen Pokémon and counterfeit medicine.
They aren’t affiliated with any major organization.”
“Pokémon?”
“Rattata belongs to Cal.
Ekans belongs to Warren.”
“Levels?”
“Last reliable information puts Rattata around nine and Ekans around eleven.”
Adrian nodded.
“Anything else?”
“Cal may carry a knife.”
Adrian’s expression changed slightly.
That was the first time a mission had explicitly mentioned a human weapon.
The handler noticed.
“This isn’t the wager arena.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Adrian met his gaze.
The man leaned back.
“Your Pokémon isn’t the only thing that can get hurt on assignments.”
Adrian understood perfectly.
He’d spent the trial thinking mostly in terms of Pokémon because Rocket prohibited intentional killing.
The rest of the criminal world didn’t operate under trial rules.
“Location?”
The handler slid over an address.
“Abandoned workshop near Route 5.”
“Police?”
“None expected.”
“Expected.”
“There’s always a chance.”
Adrian picked up the photograph.
“Recovered property?”
“Black hard case.
Rocket seal underneath.”
“Do I need to bring them back?”
“No.” A pause.
“Don’t kill them unless necessary.”
Adrian looked up.
The handler’s expression remained neutral.
“We want our property.
What happens to the thieves is secondary.”
That was Team Rocket.
Adrian pocketed the photograph.
“Understood.”
He didn’t go directly to the workshop.
That would have been stupid.
Adrian spent nearly an hour observing the surrounding area first.
The building was exactly where the handler had described it, isolated behind several abandoned commercial properties near Route 5.
One entrance in front.
A side door.
Several broken windows.
Rear loading entrance.
Adrian watched from an empty building across the road.
No movement.
That didn’t mean nobody was inside.
He released Croagunk.
“Quiet.”
Croagunk nodded.
Adrian pointed toward the workshop.
“We’re not walking through the front.”
They circled.
The rear loading door was chained.
Side door closed.
One broken window was large enough for Croagunk.
Not Adrian.
He considered sending Croagunk inside alone.
Rejected.
Too many unknowns.
They approached the side door.
Adrian listened.
Voices.
“…telling you, he’ll have the money tomorrow.”
“That’s what he said yesterday.”
“Where else are we going to sell League-marked balls?”
Two men.
Good.
The intelligence was current.
Adrian backed away.
He could enter.
Croagunk could probably defeat Rattata and Ekans.
But fighting two Pokémon simultaneously while their trainers could physically interfere was unnecessarily risky.
So don’t fight two.
Adrian looked around.
Then smiled.
A stone struck the workshop’s front window.
Glass shattered.
“What the hell?”
Footsteps.
The front door opened.
One man stepped outside.
Cal.
Adrian recognized him from the photograph.
Rattata followed.
“Who’s there?”
Adrian remained around the corner.
Cal walked farther.
“Some damn kids…”
“Fake Out.”
Croagunk emerged from behind a dumpster.
Cal barely had time to react.
“Rattata!” Too late.
Croagunk crossed the distance.
Fake Out struck Rattata and sent it rolling.
Cal reached toward his jacket.
Adrian stepped into view.
“Don’t.”
Cal froze.
Adrian didn’t have a weapon.
Croagunk was enough.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Someone collecting what you stole.”
Recognition appeared.
“Rocket.”
Adrian didn’t answer.
The workshop door opened.
Warren emerged.
Ekans slithered beside him.
“Cal?” He saw Croagunk.
Then Adrian.
His expression changed.
“Rocket.”
Subtlety was unnecessary.
Warren reached for Ekans’s ball.
Adrian reacted first.
“Poison Sting!”
Croagunk fired.
Not at Warren.
At Ekans.
Purple needles struck the snake.
“Wrap!”
Ekans lunged.
“Move!”
Croagunk sidestepped.
Rattata recovered.
“Quick Attack!”
Adrian saw it.
“Fake Out!”
Croagunk turned.
Rattata rushed.
Croagunk’s palm met it.
The smaller Pokémon was knocked sideways.
“Ekans, Bite!” Warren shouted.
Adrian didn’t give Croagunk a command.
Anticipation.
Croagunk moved on his own.
Ekans’s jaws snapped shut behind him.
Good.
Adrian pointed.
“Mud-Slap!” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Mud struck Ekans across the face.
It recoiled.
“Cross Chop, quarter!”
Croagunk closed.
The attack struck Ekans’s side.
Warren cursed.
“Wrap!”
Ekans twisted.
Its body caught Croagunk’s arm.
Then torso.
Croagunk was pulled inward.
Cal saw the opening.
“Rattata!
Hyper Fang!”
That was dangerous.
“Poison Sting!”
Croagunk couldn’t move.
It didn’t need to.
Purple needles fired directly into Ekans.
The snake hissed.
Its grip loosened.
“Break!”
Croagunk forced an arm free.
Rattata approached.
“Cross Chop!”
Croagunk struck Ekans.
Hard.
The snake was thrown aside.
Rattata’s teeth glowed.
“Fake Out!”
Croagunk turned, palm colliding with Rattata’s face.
Hyper Fang never landed.
“Again!
Cross Chop, half!”
Croagunk struck downward.
Rattata collapsed.
Cal stared.
The entire exchange had taken seconds.
“Ekans!”
Warren tried.
The snake pushed itself upright.
Adrian scanned.
Species: Ekans ♂ Level: 11 Potential: Yellow Ability: Intimidate Moves: Wrap · Leer · Poison Sting · Bite Status: Heavily Injured
“Stop.”
Warren hesitated.
“Your Rattata’s down.
Ekans won’t win.”
Cal’s hand moved inside his jacket.
Knife.
Adrian remembered the warning.
Croagunk noticed too.
Anticipation.
“Don’t.”
Cal pulled it anyway.
Croagunk moved.
Adrian didn’t need to command.
Mud-Slap struck Cal directly in the face.
He shouted and stumbled backward.
The knife fell.
Adrian kicked it away.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Warren recalled Ekans.
Cal wiped mud from his eyes.
“You little bastard.”
Adrian ignored him.
“Case.”
Neither answered.
“Or Croagunk starts again.”
That worked.
Warren pointed inside.
“Back room.”
Adrian didn’t enter.
“Bring it.”
Warren stared.
“Now.”
He went.
Thirty seconds later, Warren returned carrying a black hard case.
Adrian checked underneath.
Rocket insignia.
Seal intact.
Good.
He took it.
Cal glared at him.
“You’re letting us go?”
Adrian looked at him.
That was an odd question.
He wasn’t police.
“I have what I came for.”
Cal laughed bitterly.
“Rocket sends kids now?”
Adrian picked up the knife.
He tossed it onto the workshop roof.
“Apparently.”
Then he left.
Croagunk followed.
Neither smuggler tried stopping them.
The handler opened the case when Adrian returned.
He counted the contents.
Twenty Poké Balls.
All present.
“Seal wasn’t broken.”
“No.”
The man closed it.
“Good.”
Adrian’s ID beeped.
Mission Complete Base Reward: +140 TRP Undamaged Recovery Bonus: +20 TRP Current Balance: 1,147 TRP
Adrian looked at the number.
That was his largest balance yet.
The handler studied him.
“Any problems?”
“Both targets were there.
Rattata and Ekans matched the report.”
“Humans?”
“One pulled a knife.”
“And?”
“Croagunk stopped him.”
The handler nodded.
No surprise.
No praise.
“Anything else?”
Adrian thought about Ekans.
Yellow potential.
He could have captured it after defeating Warren.
Probably.
But it belonged to someone.
Selling a stolen Pokémon through a licensed shop would create questions Adrian didn’t need.
“No.”
The handler dismissed him.
Adrian left the warehouse.
Outside, evening had settled over Cerulean.
Croagunk walked beside him.
Adrian checked the mission reward again.
One hundred sixty TRP for several hours of work.
Good.
But the mission had taught him something more valuable than the points.
The trial had been controlled.
Even when recruits attacked each other, everyone knew Rocket observers were nearby.
Intentional killing was forbidden.
Emergency medical teams existed.
Real missions were different.
Cal’s knife had made that clear.
Croagunk could protect him.
Usually.
Adrian needed to remember that he wasn’t standing safely behind his Pokémon.
Trainer and Pokémon were both part of the battlefield here.
He looked down at Croagunk.
“Food?”
Croagunk perked up.
Adrian smiled.
“Thought so.”
They headed toward the eastern district.
Tomorrow, Croagunk would return to full training.
After that, Adrian would begin looking for opportunities to earn ordinary money.
The professional Berry Blender still cost 180,000 Pokédollars.
And unlike TRP, money was something Adrian could manufacture with patience, Poké Balls.
And a system that told him exactly which wild Pokémon were worth catching.