Pokémon: Wings Of Shadow

"Three million?" Shiro's voice wavered slightly.

If it were just one million Pokédollars, he wouldn't mind paying to avoid trouble, especially after securing the Dragon Scale and the three and a half million from Hugo.

Both he and the shopkeeper would profit, and Shiro could accept that.

But suddenly raising the price to three million? That was beyond his limit.

He had no reliable way to sell the Dragon Scale yet, nor did he understand the black market's so-called online transactions. He feared someone would track him down and kill him for it.

If he paid three million, then all the danger he faced tonight would be for nothing.

And who was to say this greedy bastard wouldn't keep raising the price?

"Raising it to three million out of nowhere, isn't that a bit..." Shiro frowned at the shopkeeper, but the man didn't seem to see anything wrong. Instead, he leaned closer, wagging a stubby, radish-like finger at Shiro.

"I know your situation clearly," the shopkeeper sneered. "Your strength is exactly what it looks like—nothing special. You're no heir of some big shot family from Kanto. Just a black market nobody with a new face." His grin stretched across his fat face.

Shiro simply stared at him.

Seeing no response, the shopkeeper pressed forward, planting both hands on the counter and tilting his chin up.

"Heh, not willing? If you give me one million, I'll keep the body for now—but tomorrow? Who knows? But for three million, I'll dispose of it right in front of you. Problem solved."

"Mm..." Shiro gave a short hum, nodding slightly.

"Haha, that's more like—"

The shopkeeper's words caught in his throat.

Shiro's hand, already gripping the knife in his pocket, lashed out with lightning speed, piercing straight through the man's neck.

It was clean. Precise. He was already well-practiced.

A wet, gurgling sound filled the air as the blade slid out. Blood, like overflowing wine from a barrel, spilled rapidly down the man's throat.

The shopkeeper's eyes twitched in shock. He couldn't comprehend how this kid had the guts to kill him here.

Even at night, as an official League store, it was supposed to remain operational.

He was also an informant for the Hammerlocke Gym. If anyone noticed his disappearance, the police would arrive in no time and conduct a thorough investigation of everyone who had entered and exited the store.

Shiro wouldn't be able to escape.

He could feel his life slipping away. His vision blurred, darkening at the edges. His body went limp, collapsing forward.

Shiro withdrew the knife, and with nothing left to support him, the shopkeeper crashed onto the counter.

In the dimly lit store, only the faint glow from the streetlights outside crept through the glass. A pool of blood spread beneath the shopkeeper, slowly dripping off the edge of the counter.

Shiro quickly gathered his belongings, ignoring the corpse. Then, moving swiftly, he began searching the store.

He grabbed a good number of high quality Ghost, Flying, and Steel-type Pokéblocks. After that, he swept all the long-shelved Pokémon items into his bag.

With everything he needed, Shiro took a deep breath and walked toward the black market entrance—hidden behind a door leading to the Macro Cosmos building.

Creak...

The door swung open, revealing pitch-black darkness inside.

Shiro stepped in and shut the door behind him.

He had no idea if the black market was still operational—or what awaited him on the other side.

The tense wait made Shiro break into a cold sweat. As chaotic thoughts about how to escape from Hammerlocke swirled in his mind, a crisp snap of fingers brought him a moment of relief.

A faint pink glow flashed, instantly filling the room with light. Shiro raised an arm to shield his eyes, unaccustomed to the sudden brightness. After a brief moment, he relaxed completely.

His surroundings remained the same—an all-too-familiar room with massive floor-to-ceiling windows, beyond which stretched the night.

He had been teleported from Hammerlocke straight into the Macro Cosmos building.

"What would you like, sir?" A deep, magnetic voice, different from the previous black market merchants before, echoed unhurriedly through the room.

Hearing this, Shiro finally let go of his lingering tension and sat down across from the merchant draped in a large black cloak. Exhaustion washed over him at that moment.

"I want to..." Shiro hesitated, then cautiously asked, "Can you teleport me somewhere else?"

"Heh..." The cloaked figure let out a chuckle, its meaning unclear. Then, he explained, "Of course. That is one of our services."

Shiro nodded slowly. This black market was just as he expected—if they could use psychic abilities to transport him to the Macro Cosmos building, they could surely send him elsewhere as well.

Now, he just had to decide where to go.

Staying in Hammerlocke was out of the question. Fortunately, he had no real friends there and had left nothing important behind in his residence.

Shiro was cautious. He kept all his belongings and wealth inside his backpack, carrying everything with him at all times, no matter where he went.

"Well then..." He was still considering his options. He wasn't familiar with Galar's cities and had no particular destination in mind.

"Hehe, sir. Perhaps before you leave, you'd like to trade for some additional goods?" The cloaked figure gently reminded, then offered a recommendation. "You might be interested in a high-level Pokémon that has been... 'tamed.'"

"Tamed?" Shiro's brows furrowed slightly.

"Indeed..." The merchant spread his hands, allowing a faint pink glow of psychic energy to flicker between them. One by one, images of Pokémon materialized in the air.

Inteleon, Cinderace, Rillaboom, Unfezant, Mudsdale, Bewear, Grimmsnarl...

Each one was at least at the Gym-level, but without exception, their eyes were dull and lifeless—empty, as if their minds had been wiped.

"This is our company's latest research breakthrough. These Pokémon will obey their trainer's every command... heh." The merchant's words trailed off, leaving behind an eerie chuckle.

Shiro immediately understood. It must be some kind of brainwashing technique. Similar devices and experiments had appeared multiple times in the Pokémon world—even Legendary Pokémon had been subjected to such control.

"And their strength?" That was his primary concern.

"They will follow orders immediately. If you don't tell them to stop, they won't. Of course, they will never develop true synergy with their trainer—but they are obedient." The merchant paused briefly, then added, "However, their strength will never improve."

Shiro nodded in understanding, deep in thought.

The advantage of these Pokémon lay in their high levels and strong physical attributes. But because they had been brainwashed by some kind of device, their move sets were frozen in place—they could no longer be trained or learn new techniques.

Battling wouldn't help them grow stronger either.

In short, these Pokémon were nothing more than tools.

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