Pokémon: Wings Of Shadow

"Hmph..."

After looting Dorian's body, Shiro pulled off his backpack.

With nothing blocking the view, the fat shopkeeper stood behind the glass door, grinning as he leaned in closer, watching Shiro through the glass.

"Hey there, kid..." Shiro read the shopkeeper's lips and guessed his words from the faint voice coming through. "Why not come inside and change into some fresh clothes?"

His heart tightened. Scanning the street, he noticed the peculiar looks from passing strangers. Without a word, he nodded and pushed open the glass door.

The moment he stepped in, Dorian's corpse, still draped in a black cloak, lay sprawled on the floor. Yet, the shopkeeper didn't look the least bit surprised or panicked. Instead, he scooped up the body like it was a crumpled bill and casually tossed it into a small room in the store.

"Now, let's talk about the price of a set of clothes." The fat shopkeeper sat behind the counter, his excess flesh nearly spilling over it. He wasn't worried at all that Shiro might try to run.

"How much?" Shiro asked, his gaze shifting toward the people outside. The moves from his two Pokémon had been pretty obvious. Some sharp-eyed onlookers had already noticed something was off and were inching closer to investigate.

In Hammerlocke, reporting a murder was highly rewarding. The League paid handsomely, and there were no risks involved.

As long as the police found the body, they could use Psychic-type Pokémon to reconstruct the events leading to the victim's death, making it easy to identify the killer.

On top of that, the Hammerlocke Gym guaranteed the anonymity of informants. If there were any dangers, they'd even offer protection.

"Hehe... Relax." The fat shopkeeper followed Shiro's gaze and noticed the people outside. Instead of worrying, his grin widened. "One million Pokédollars."

"One million?" A cold, murderous glint flashed in Shiro's eyes.

A new identity card on the black market only cost two hundred thousand. Yet this fat bastard wanted a million just to deal with a corpse.

"If you try to run, they'll catch you. And I'll make sure the body gets found," the shopkeeper said calmly. "Even if you get a new identity on the black market, you still have to leave through my shop. Your face isn't changing anytime soon."

Shiro stayed silent. Seeing this, the shopkeeper snorted.

"I know you. You're that Rookidee sparring partner from the stadium, Shiro. Last time, you bought your identity card from the black market too, didn't you?" He sneered again. "And that Dragon Scale you got from Rylan..."

The shopkeeper's intentions were clear—he wanted to take advantage of Shiro's predicament and extort him for a large sum.

"Fine..." Shiro glanced at the watchful crowd outside and laid down his terms. "But you deal with them first. The body's in your hands. I need to know you can handle this, not just rip me off and sell me out."

"Deal!" The shopkeeper's grin stretched from ear to ear as he grabbed the only Poké Ball on his belt. "Come out, Phantump!"

The ball cracked open, but Shiro saw nothing—until a pair of crimson pupils emerged from the air.

Phantump had a small, black body, a wooden stump for a head, and big, glowing red eyes. Tiny branches sprouted from its sides. Legends said it was the spirit of a child who had died lost in the forest, reborn by possessing a tree stump. A Ghost/Grass-type Pokémon.

Its strength was at the Intermediate level.

Phantump floated slowly toward the room where the shopkeeper had tossed Dorian's body. With ease, it phased right through the door. Moments later, the door creaked open.

Out walked Dorian.

The bald, black-cloaked man moved forward step by step. But his movements were stiff, his joints rigid, as if afflicted by some chronic disease.

Anyone familiar with him would notice the difference immediately.

But now, it was already nighttime. The men gathered outside the store's glass door could only make out a few vague, shadowy figures.

"Should we... go inside and check?" one man in tattered clothes whispered.

They all saw Shiro holding Dorian down and unleashing his Pokémon's attacks, but now, with no corpse in sight, they weren't sure what to make of the situation.

"Hey, why don't we just report this to the police?" muttered a short old man, glancing at the others. While the reward could only be claimed once a body was found, at his age, he wasn't willing to take any risks.

"Should we go in?"

"Maybe we should just leave it alone. There's probably something—"

Swish–

Before they could finish deliberating, the glass door suddenly swung open from the inside.

Everyone instinctively stepped back, watching as a tall man in a black cloak strode past them and disappeared into the night.

"What the..." The old man blinked in confusion before suddenly realizing something. He turned and ran after Dorian, who had supposedly just been killed.

The others quickly followed suit.

Within seconds, the crowd that had gathered outside the store dispersed, drawn toward the "revived" Dorian.

His corpse, now controlled by Phantump, moved swiftly along the edge of the street.

The short old man struggled to keep up but eventually managed to grab the hem of Dorian's black cloak, refusing to let go.

He shouted, "Stop right there! You're the guy who killed someone just now, aren't you? Huh? Take off your hood and let me see your face!"

"Yeah! Take it off! Let's go, we're turning you in!" The others caught up, grabbing at Dorian's cloak as well.

Under Phantump's control, Dorian's corpse came to an abrupt stop. The people behind hesitated, ready to jump in and subdue him if needed.

"Mmm..." A low grunt escaped from Dorian as he turned around and pulled back his hood.

His bald, scarred face scanned the crowd, sending a shiver through those standing too close.

Since he had only just died, his face still looked normal. The old man hesitated, taking a few steps back as he exchanged uncertain glances with the others.

They hadn't expected this. It really was the man they thought had been killed—not that kid from before.

"He's... not dead?" The old man muttered, his voice uncertain.

Dorian let out another deep grunt. "Mmm?"

"S-Sorry, big guy, our mistake. Just a misunderstanding, a complete misunderstanding..." One of the ragged men hurriedly waved his hands in apology before turning and running off.

Seeing this, the others glanced at each other, then quietly backed away as well.

Soon, Dorian—his body still under Phantump's control—lowered his hood and disappeared into the darkness.

...

Back inside the store.

The fat shopkeeper casually pointed a finger toward the glass door. "Well, kid? Looks like they're all gone. The body is still in my hands..."

"Fine!" Shiro didn't hesitate. "One million Pokédollars, right?"

He dropped his backpack onto the counter and started digging through the three and a half million Pokédollars he had gotten from Hugo.

"No…" The shopkeeper's eyes locked onto the bag, practically glowing. "Three million now, kid."

**

**

**

Thank you for reading! If you'd like access to extra chapters and want to support my work, you can visit my P@treon:

P@treon/SilverShark769

Your support means a lot, thank you!