Chương 138: Chapter 133

The next morning, Sam left the Pokémon Center carrying a sack of empty Pokéballs. None of them were his even though he had a few left from Azalea Town. However, those were Apricorn Balls, so they were too rare to use for this task. Although, it wasn't like he had paid for these balls, either. If he had, all of his money would have disappeared. The Pokéballs in the bag were all an unpainted grey, designed for temporary use rather than anything as permanent like for a member of a trainer's team.

They were primarily used for computer-based transfers of Pokémon since not every Pokémon at a Pokémon Center possessed a personal Pokéball. Normally, these grey Pokéballs wouldn't be offered for captures, but the nurse knew Sam's plan and handed over half of the spares she had in storage. Once Sam was done with them, most, if not all, would be returned filled.

"And a handful more, just in case," Sam told his team as they stepped out. After a stop at a PokéMart, he bought a single, extremely expensive Ultra Ball instead of a few Great Balls like he had first planned. Thankfully, the clerk there recognized him from before and was just as apologetic, so the offered discount made this purchase less of a "splurge" than it would have been otherwise. An Ultra Ball was more powerful than a Great Ball, and Sam needed to be as prepared as possible.

After all, his plans for the next few days involved checking in with the Gym each morning and then catching as many Dragon Types as he could.

"All across the city, poached Dragon Types are hiding and waiting to be caught. They've been taken from their homes, and now trainers are trying to find them to capture them or just to earn some cash," Sam said to his team as they walked through the city.

"I don't like that. I know I'm being hypocritical, but I'd rather help these Pokémon than not. So this is going to serve two purposes—training for us, since some of these Dragon Types will fight before being captured, and then assistance for them since we want to make sure they get the chance to go home." His team had already found many of the Dragon Types currently loose in Olivine. Unfortunately, they hadn't found all of them because some were adept hiders or had already been caught.

However, Sam couldn't just not do this. He was in a position to help, so he would help. The thought of leaving them behind instead of actually doing something didn't sit right in his gut.

"We'll try to capture that Sliggoo, first," Sam continued.

"Based on the New Pokédex and Matilda's Goomy, a Sliggoo seems friendly enough, so hopefully trying to capture it will tell us whether or not our plan will work." He followed the Gastly back to that same alley behind a hotel where they had found a wild Sliggoo the other day. Upon arrival, Haunter focused and nodded to Sam that the Sliggoo was still there. The space ahead of them was dark, dank, and uncomfortably humid.

It was blatantly obvious why no trainer had checked this place—why would a Dragon Type ever live somewhere so uncomfortable? But unlike all of the other trainers in this city, Sam actually knew what species he was looking for. Few others knew about hundreds upon hundreds of foreign Pokémon, and they didn't know Sliggoo existed let alone that there was a Dragon Type that liked uncomfortably warm swamps. As Sam stepped into the space, the squelch that came from beneath his foot sent a shiver of disgust up his spine.

The humming air conditioning units dripped, and the pipes rattled. Slime coated practically everything, and then there was another layer of moss on top of that. (Well, it was more like an occasional patch of something mildly gross every here and there, but that was already too much. Sam could tell this old hotel rarely bothered with maintenance.) The Gastly, as Poison Types, had no issues with the status of the place and eagerly rushed ahead.

Within only a few seconds, splotches of darkness had already searched the entire alley and were now coalesced above one, singular dumpster. Sam approached the obvious signal and lifted the dumpster's lid.

"Goo?" The Sliggoo's expression was curious, with its head cocked to the side. Where an unevolved Goomy resembled a purple mound, this Pokémon's back was curved almost like a shell and its head was held up by a long, thin neck.

"Hey," Sam said softly. It was a little weird to speak into a dumpster like this.

"I'm going around Olivine and trying to catch as many Dragon Types as I can. I'm not trying to add you to my team, but I want to give you the chance to be sent home if you'd like." Sam knew from Redi's experience with Dragonair that making eye contact with Dragon Types was special. Doing so was simultaneously a challenge and a show of confidence. In this case, when he looked at the Sliggoo, he made eye contact to do just that.

He wanted it to understand that he was serious about his offer—but the problem was that a Sliggoo's eyes devolved upon evolution and were unable to see. Still, the pair of antennae on its head let it detect its surroundings, and it could tell Sam was giving it the utmost focus. Though as slug-like as the Sliggoo was, it was definitely still a Dragon Type. So, after a single moment of Sam refusing to back off, its expression grew serious. The Sliggoo would agree to Sam's plan but only if he beat it in a fight.

"Of course." The Sliggoo hopped out of its moist, dumpster shelter once Sam moved back, and Sam nodded to the wall to call Haunter out. As his Ghost Type left the shadows to hover in the air, the Sliggoo scooted over the wet earth to face him, unaware of the excited Gastly swarming behind it that were looking forward to a good match. This wasn't an official battle, so the Sliggoo began the second Haunter looked prepared enough.

Rearing its head back, yellow flames crackled around its mouth for what was likely a Dragon Breath. But Sam just pointed forward.

"Hypnosis." And that was that. Once the sleeping Sliggoo was soundly captured in one of those unpainted Pokéballs, Sam could finally let himself breathe out in relief.

"Alright. So we're not dealing with Pokémon on the level of Dragonair. They'll be wild, but they're pretty much untrained. Capture won't be the hard part; the hard part will be finding them and convincing them to be caught." Upset, one of the Gastly blew a raspberry at Sam for tricking them into watching such an unsatisfying match, but another purposely bumped into it to get it under control. As excited as they'd been to watch the fight, there'd be plenty of other battles today.

For now, Sam left, carrying the Sliggoo in his pocket, but he wasn't done just yet. There were so many other Pokémon in the city all but waiting to be caught. This battle was easy. He couldn't say the others would be the same. If he truly wanted to capture so many Dragon Types, it would be a test of skill as much as it would be a test of his team's endurance.

Sam found that fighting these Dragon Types would have been an even fight for most six-star trainers, and then as an added point of difficulty on top of that, actually finding the Pokémon would make the task even harder. Trainers still tried, however, but this late in the season, most high-level trainers had already gathered all of the Pokémon they wanted for their teams.

There were always those open to catching more, but not everyone had ranching options, and there were plenty of others who were too suspicious about that insanely large sum to bother getting involved. That being said, the "easy" Dragon Types had all already been caught, either by the League's initial sweeping efforts or by other trainers early on. The Dragon Types that were left were the ones people overlooked or the ones that had found decent places to hide.

In other words, if Sam wasn't catching them, the only way they would have been found was through chance encounters at best. After the Sliggoo, the Gastly led Sam to a two-headed Zweilous, a stocky Pokémon whose two heads were at war over who could lay claim to an entire park. It looked as though the argument had lasted for weeks, and the Pokémon had nested into a darkened exit of a storm drain for quite some time. It looked as though the only time the Zweilous stopped fighting itself was for food, water, and rest.

As the Zweilous was an aggressive Dark Type, Sam was able to make use of its constant, self-inflicted war. Instead of going up and trying to convince it to be caught, he simply sent both Haunter and Misdreavus forward, and the Zweilous was unable to agree on who and when to attack. The resulting knock-out was a walk in the park. Literally, given the park Sam had to pass through to reach its nest.

The few Bagon that had escaped the boat had already been mostly captured, but that didn't mean none were left in the city. Other than the two Sam found standing at the edge of a tall balcony, he found another pinned behind a grocery store. A nasty-looking Houndour was actively bullying it in an attempt to steal its meager meal. One easy fight later, and that Bagon was sobbing to Haunter about just wanting to go home. Sam's heart hurt for it. He made sure it was in the nurse's hands as soon as possible.

And even more Dragon Types were caught over the next few days. A pair of Deino were captured during a territorial fight. A Vibrava was taken from a cave on the beach before it could finish building itself a hive. Sam also caught one species with a name he struggled to remember—it was either a Jangmo-o, a Hakamo-o, or a Kommo-o. Whatever it was, it was a mid-stage Fighting Type, and that let Misdreavus's super effective attacks easily carry the fight. But it wasn't all easy.

The Vibrava was a challenge—that Pokémon only revealed itself after the Gastly harassed it into leaving the tunnels it had dug into the floor. Another snag came when Sam captured a few Swablu, as the nurse had to inform him that those Swablu hadn't actually been poached. Though they weren't a species native to Johto and had the potential to evolve into the Dragon Type Altaria, Swablu weren't exactly rare.

Foreign Flying Types were often found in port cities simply because some of them liked hitching rides on boats to visit new places. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. So the Swablu were released, and Sam went on to search for what few Dragon Types were left, but he quickly found that he was rapidly running out. There had never been that many Dragon Types in the first place, so the rate of captures quickly slowed down.

Dragon Types were rare—barely anyone ever managed to catch one. Honestly, the poachers likely went through a lot of trouble as well as what was likely a massive investment to gather the numbers they did. It was disgusting, but Sam could at least take comfort in how the poachers' arrest probably caused them to go bankrupt. He continued to hunt. Half a week came and passed. After only a few more catches, Sam's Gastly began to report back with a distinct lack of Dragon Types.

No matter how much they scoured the city, all of the stragglers had been caught. The only ones left were the big ones: the Dreepy, the Drakloak, a Druddigon, and then one group he saved for last. With no other options left, Sam finally made his way to the back of a specific, abandoned house. It was one of the many buildings the city left purposefully empty to provide a safe place for wild Pokémon to rest. However, instead of the usual Normal or Bug Type living inside, its small backyard had been claimed.

Inside of its walled, enclosed space, four Dragon Types had made a temporary home. The tiles out here had been dug up to expose the cool dirt underneath. The yard's few plants were in poor shape, having been gnawed on over the past few weeks. Containers of stolen food were torn up and littered the floor. And, the very second Sam stepped out back, the wild Gabite snapped up its head and growled only for its eyes to widen in fear in recognition of who he was.

"Wait. You might have tried to attack me once, but I'm not here for revenge." Sam held up his hands to show he meant no harm.

"I'm not here to scare you, or to terrify you, or to do anything mean. I'm also not here to take those Gible away—I'm just here to offer you help." The Gabite's mouth curled up for a silent snarl, but it made no noise. Beneath it, three young Gible dozed with their large, toothy maws hanging open and dripping with drool.

"I've been going around and capturing all of the Dragon Types in Olivine," Sam explained, speaking slowly and quietly.

"At this point, almost all of them have been brought to the Pokémon Center to let them choose where they go. I'm not taking you for my team or trying to trade you in for money. I'm just trying to make sure you have a choice. I can bring you to a nurse who can send all of you home." Unlike the so many other times Sam had encountered a Dragon Type, he purposefully broke eye contact with the Gabite here. Their encounter in the alley had already intimidated it.

He didn't need to prove his team's strength or face it in battle. With the Gible here, there was no point in making it go on guard. But there was a risk to that; often, a wild Pokémon would use that kind of moment to attack, especially when backed into a corner like the Gabite currently was. However, even as wary as it was, the Gabite didn't move. With the Gible sound asleep, pressed against it, it didn't want to disturb them. What it did do, however, was keep an eye on every shadow, just in case.

"Here. Check this Pokéball." Sam reached into his pocket to slowly take out one of those unpainted, Pokémon Center Pokéballs before rolling it across the floor.

"This isn't the ball of a trainer. This is the ball of a Pokémon temporarily caught to be transferred. Cross-region transportation isn't that developed, but Sinnoh isn't far away. It wouldn't take long at all to send you back to where you were taken from." Hoenn, Johto, Kanto, and Sinnoh were all linked, but they didn't technically have direct transfers between every Pokémon Center just yet.

Instead, when the system brought a Pokéball across regions, the Pokéball was transferred between the regions' largest and most central Pokémon Centers before being sent to the target Center in question. From the New Pokédex, Sam knew the Gible line lived in a cave system on Sinnoh's Route 206. He'd checked the maps; it wouldn't be immediate, but these Pokémon could be transferred to Eterna City and then brought home by a Ranger within only a few days.

"But even if you don't want that, I can still bring you to the Pokémon Center, anyway," he quickly added.

"The Chansey there are nice. You can tell them what you want, and they'll make sure it comes true." If the Gabite didn't want to be sent back to a Route, others would be willing to care for these Pokémon, and the Pokémon Center would make sure they obtained the right partners. If not that, then there were specialized ranches in Sinnoh—places better for them than just the Blackthorn Clan in Johto. So, with that final piece said, Sam had nothing more to say.

He stayed silent for a short while, giving the Gabite time to weigh the offer before giving it a final push.

"What do you think?" he asked softly. The reply came in the form of a glare. It hurt to be looked at like that. The Gabite's glare was almost identical to the one Drakloak had sent him during their battle a few days ago. I can't blame either of them for looking at me like that. These Pokémon were ripped away from their homes. At least in Drakloak's case, I almost did the same thing. I broke into its hiding space and then tried to leave with its friend.

If someone broke into Mom's bookstore and then tried to lure Cyndaquil away, I would have been just as mad. Whoever did that wouldn't have cared if I was there. They would have just cared that Cyndaquil belonged to a rare species. Which is basically what I did with Dreepy. He was at least thankful he had tried to be respectful when attempting to capture the Dreepy, but his presence had still been an unwelcome intrusion. Those two Dragon Types were still out there.

Though his Gastly were yet to find them, in that moment, Sam promised himself that he'd apologize the second he got the chance. And, as Sam silently came to that decision, something must have shown on his face because the Gabite's harsh gaze broke. Then, from beneath it, a small noise came out, and one of the Gible looked up with a groggy yawn. The unevolved Dragon Type briefly looked around before freezing when it noticed Sam, a human, standing right there.

As young as it was, Sam doubted any of the Gible were related to the Gabite, but they had likely hatched after the Dragon Types escaped from the boat, and the Gabite dedicated itself to their care. That meant there was no fear in its eyes when it looked at Sam. It didn't have that past experience. Seeing that, the Gabite let out a sigh. While it personally didn't seem happy about this, it chose to accept his offer solely for the Gible's sake.

"Thank you," Sam said.

"I promise that they'll get a good future." The Gabite just wanted the Gible to be happy, and Sam would absolutely make sure that came true. It only took a slight bit of further effort to coax the Dragon Types into those grey Pokéballs, but food was a surprisingly effective motivator for the trio of hungry Gible. Afterward, Sam left that small backyard with all four wild Pokémon on his person.

"That just leaves three. And they're the hardest ones," Sam said to his team.

"We need to find the Dreepy and Drakloak, but before that, we also need to deal with that Druddigon in the dump." Shadows. She crouched on a towering pile, looking down at the crowd below. She'd been following the boy for a while. Why? She didn't know. She tried her best to keep track of all of the hunters in the city, and that boy had seemed the most dangerous out of them all. Alternatively, a better explanation was that she was following him due to her brother's foolish insistence, but she'd never admit to that.

No, the boy commanded far too many Pokémon for her to ignore. She simply needed to track the threat that he posed.

"To the side—Confuse Ray!" the voice of that very same boy rang out. The thing was, he was hard to understand. He was clearly doing all of this for his own selfish motivations, but why did he look so genuine whenever he told a fellow Dragon Type that he just was there to help out? The massive pile of trash let her stay hidden as she watched a battle take place below. An audience gathered around the fight—more than just her.

Other trainers looked on with a mix of annoyance and envy as that boy took on the same, great Dragon that so many others had fought and failed. His Misdreavus fought with a surprising amount of grace for a Pokémon that looked so infuriatingly smug.

"Great!" the boy shouted.

"Now, Night Shade! Lure it around!" But she couldn't ignore that the Ghost was skilled—doing so would have been a mistake. Within the midst of the match, a flash of darkness was met by a mighty roar. The field became cloaked in night. The Druddigon, blinded, tried to chase the Misdreavus, but it was only led around by the nose and tricked into crashing through several smaller trash piles nearby.

The Misdreavus would win, she was sure of it, but as she watched the two Pokémon battle it out, a short whine came from her side, and she recognized that mixture of awe and hope. As Drakloak checked on her brother, she could see that Dreepy was fine. However, his whine had spoken of his continuing naivety, one that persisted no matter what she said. Though he hid behind a discarded paper bag to hide just like her, it was almost as if he wanted to rush out.

He wanted to grant that boy his trust even though the boy had done nothing to earn her own. Drakloak knew her brother didn't understand the truth of the world even though they had both experienced the same things. It was like he had forgotten just how easily they'd been taken away from their homes. It wasn't a pleasant memory. Even now, she could remember it clearly. The mere thought of what happened caused bile to build in her throat, but she re-lived it all the same....

On a foggy day in the rolling hills of their old home, they were lured by the prospect of a bountiful source of food. It was a trap in the end, and they soon found themselves covered by a net. Normally, that would have been easy to escape, but the net was wrapped with strange papers that left them feeling drained. Those same papers were attached to the cage they were thrown into, and those same papers prevented them from phasing through its metal bars.

Trapped and shoved into darkness, they were tossed into an open hull filled with Pokémon. Hopeless shouts rang out from all around them, but the noises were almost muffled. Dreepy and Drakloak had been placed up front, where their captors stored their "precious" Dragon Types. It was ages before they managed to escape, and they were only able to do so thanks to a burst of panic that came from the ship's main deck.

Drakloak couldn't say she was an expert at understanding the human language, but emotions were always easy to convey. Something had happened. A misunderstanding, or a call had gone wrong. The poachers had contacted the wrong people, and now, the authorities were rushing their way. With the cruel men and women so preoccupied with thoughts of escape, none bothered to check the lower decks. There, Dreepy came to the rescue.

He forced his way through their cage's bars, using his small size to squeeze through and a focused will to ignore the lethargy that came with being drained. Escaping, he had just enough energy left to destroy the locks keeping them in. Once he was safe back on her head, Drakloak went on to use that granted freedom to release everyone she could in turn. Unfortunately, she was only able to free the Pokémon in her immediate vicinity—the Dragon Types—before she was forced to escape.

The authorities boarded the boat, and then all of the Pokémon were saved. Except— Hah. Drakloak sneered. Saved? As if she'd fall for that trap. No. She'd never let anyone take her or her brother's freedom again. Drakloak swore to herself that she'd never again make that mistake. The battle continued beneath her, with the Misdreavus's opponent now both burned and confused. Its roars were angry, but its swipes were unguided. The Psybeams the Ghost Type unleashed would certainly wear the Druddigon down.

Watching carefully, Drakloak supposed she could swoop down and mess with the battle's inevitable outcome, but she knew the boy had plenty of other Pokémon waiting in turn. For now, she just watched, waited, and looked on carefully. She needed to learn every potential weakness she could use against him—and maybe she could finally understand his strange nature, too. But she had to split her focus to do that. Not only was she trying to watch carefully, but she had to keep her presence to a minimum.

One mistake, and she'd be at risk of detection by the boy's infuriatingly tight patrols of Ghost Types—but that was where she messed up, instead. Drakloak split her focus on the wrong areas. She focused on the battle and herself but not her brother. Suddenly shocked away from her observation, she turned at the sound of a yelp to see her brother halfway down the trash mound, facing a Haunter floating before him. She almost, almost felt relief when she saw the Haunter.

She'd been spying on one for a while, and she knew the Haunter she'd been watching wouldn't cause her brother any true harm. But this wasn't that Haunter. It was a different Pokémon that only looked the same. Her relief lasted only a single instant, and the unfamiliar Pokémon's eyes flashed with a hypnotizing glare. Dreepy fell. Drakloak was too shocked to do anything, too caught off-guard by this sudden change.

That delay was her second mistake, as something then flew through the air, and a red light sucked up Dreepy's sleeping form.

"Wait, we actually found one? Wow, Haunter! You're incredible!" an unknown voice called out.

"I can't believe there was another Dragon Type here! Finally! A hundred K, here we come!" Desperately, Drakloak wanted to rush forward. She wanted to attack, to assault, to tear them apart for daring to steal her family's freedom once again. But she couldn't. She was too overcome by surprise and shame and fear. As fast as she was, she could already see the losing battle for what it was.

She wouldn't be able to beat the white-furred Dark Type that walked by the unfamiliar trainer's side, and attacking right now would only see herself be captured as well.

"Okay, okay. Breathe out, Preston. Think about what you need to do next," the stranger said to himself.

"Calm down, head out, don't let anyone know, and... You go to the Pokémon Center to collect your reward!" He grinned a cruel grin. Drakloak couldn't do anything—the stranger's Pokémon had too many advantages over her. As she watched, from behind, grumbles from other trainers echoed out as a second ball clicked. That fight ended. That boy had captured the Druddigon. Yet, as two different celebrations for two different captures rang out, Drakloak felt just as stuck as Dreepy.

The unknown trainer turned to leave, but all she could do was continue to hide like a fool and watch her unconscious brother be carried away.