Pokemon Dark Tidings.

The early morning light filtered through the windows of the stable's kitchen as Ezra worked over the stove, flipping strips of bacon in a sizzling pan. The air was filled with the rich scent of cooking food - bacon, sausages, eggs. Beside him, perched on the counter with a focused intensity, was Rider, his Alolan Marowak, mixing pancake batter with a wooden spoon. Rider took his role seriously, his eyes fixed on the bowl as he stirred, the flames at the end of his bone weapon flickering softly in rhythm with each stir.

He'd had to remind him a few times to not use his bone as a stirring tool, the batter and flame likely would mix well.

Ezra chuckled softly as he caught Rider's attempt to dip a finger into the batter again, clearly tempted to taste it. With a swift but gentle poke to the Marowak's side, Ezra shook his head. "I'll let you have some of the finished product, don't eat the batter."

Rider let out a soft grunt of disappointment, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he resumed stirring, determined to resist temptation. Across the room, Cheshire and Loki, Ezra's Gengar and Banette respectively, floated lazily near the ceiling, watching the proceedings with clear amusement. Every now and then, they'd blow raspberries at Rider, snickering to themselves whenever his 'mon was caught trying to sneak some batter.

Ezra shot them both a warning look. "No jeering from the peanut gallery," He scolded, raising a spatula threateningly. "At least he's helping."

Cheshire and Loki exchanged mischievous grins but floated back a little, settling on draping themselves over the cupboard tops. Ezra sighed, his gaze flicking to the kitchen, particularly the flour-covered cabinets - a telltale sign of Cheshire's earlier "help" in fetching ingredients. The Gengar had caused a mini-flour explosion, covering half the kitchen in a fine white dust that Ezra had half-heartedly cleaned up.

He'd just hire someone to clean the place up later, that was the point of having money after all. That and maids. Maids in cute outfits with way too short skirts.

At least Rider was focused, unlike his 'helpers' Cheshire and Loki. Ezra eyed the pancake batter again, noting that it was ready to go.

Ezra had a few of his Pokemon outside, training in the crisp morning air as usual, but today, Rider, Loki, and Cheshire had insisted on staying inside, eager to help with breakfast, or at least avoid the rigors of the morning workout. He didn't mind; a little company was nice while cooking.

As he flipped the last of the bacon and set the strips onto a plate, his sharp hearing picked up the faint sounds of footsteps descending the stairs. Karen was awake.

Ezra didn't turn around, waiting until she appeared at the kitchen entrance, her silver hair disheveled, her eyes half-closed in sleepy droopiness. She looked a little more than a mess - her Pikachu-patterned pajamas wrinkled, and her gait slow as she shuffled toward the table. She didn't even glance at him, her focus entirely on the food sizzling in the pan.

"Cute," Ezra commented, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he eyed her Pikachu PJs.

Karen gave a noncommittal grunt and slid into a chair at the table, resting her head on her arms, her gaze fixed on the food. "It's too early to care about your teasing, Ezra," She mumbled, her voice muffled by her arm.

Ezra's smirk widened, but before he could respond, Loki floated down silently behind Karen, his ghostly grin wide as he hovered near her shoulder, clearly plotting some sort of morning prank. But just as Loki reached for Karen's shoulder, she raised a single finger without lifting her head, her voice low but dangerous.

"Fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice…" Her tone was sharp, cutting through her sleepy demeanor. "Sneasel, if that jokester moves, cut a bitch."

From beneath the table, Sneasel popped up, her eyes glinting mischievously as she saluted Karen with a crooked grin, claws extended. Loki jolted back, his grin faltering as he quickly retreated to a safer distance. He hadn't noticed Sneasel's stealthy presence, and Ezra couldn't help but chuckle. He'd sensed Sneasel sneak in, but it was worth letting the moment play out.

Sliding a plate toward Karen, he set down a hearty portion of bacon, eggs, and toast, along with a steaming cup of coffee. "Well, we wouldn't want you to cut a bitch," He said with mock seriousness. "So eat up."

Karen, still half-asleep, muttered something unintelligible but picked up her fork, using it to lazily drag a piece of bacon toward her mouth without lifting her head from her arms. She took a bite, her eyes still barely open. After a few moments of chewing, she sighed contentedly.

"Ugh, why are you so domestic?" She grumbled, her voice tinged with groggy annoyance. "You're only missing an apron. It's weird."

Ezra raised an eyebrow, flipping a pancake with a smooth motion. "Domestic? If you can't cook at least bacon and eggs and toast, do you even deserve to live?"

He wasn't exactly a chef, but making a simple breakfast was well within his abilities. He found himself wondering what Karen usually ate while traveling if she thought this was anything special. Because this was as basic as basic got.

Karen made another noncommittal grunt, clearly not interested in debating the merits of cooking while she was still in her half-awake state. Slowly, she started to eat more of the food in front of her, washing it down with sips of coffee. Meanwhile, Ezra finished up the pancakes, tossing a few smaller ones to Rider, who caught them with a delighted expression before hopping off the counter to sit beside Ezra.

By the time Ezra sat down with his own plate - pancakes drenched in jam - Karen looked a little more awake. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, attempting to straighten it out as she speared a piece of pancake and immersed it fully into a cup of honey.

Ezra glanced at her choice of condiment and made a face. "Honey? Really?" He shook his head, amused and horrified. "Honey has no business being violated like that."

Karen raised an eyebrow, glancing at the sticky honey-coated pancake on her fork. "To each their own, weirdo," She retorted, taking a bite and letting out a satisfied hum, dunking another piece entirely into the honey just to mess with him, swirling it about.

They ate in relative silence for a while, the occasional clink of cutlery or the soft sound of Rider stealing the odd piece of pancake from Ezra's plate breaking the quiet. After a while, Karen looked up from her plate, watching Ezra demolish his stack of pancakes with impressive speed.

"So why the spread?" Karen asked, her tone more curious than accusatory as she watched him. "I mean, this is a bit more than your usual breakfast, not that I'm complaining."

Truth was they both usually settled for some toast, cereal bars or some fruit, neither one of them much for cooking. So this was out of the norm.

Ezra took his time chewing before answering, contemplating how best to approach the subject. He had made his decision, but it required delicacy. If he phrased things wrong, Karen might take it the wrong way - and that could complicate matters further.

He swallowed and leaned back slightly. "I'm going somewhere," He began slowly, his tone measured, "And I figured a nice breakfast was a good way to start before breaking the news that I'm not taking you with me."

In the end the choice had been clear. Karen wasn't on his side enough at this point, to bring her in fully to the business side of things. He couldn't take her with him. The risk was too much.

Karen's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing into a weak glare. "You know my mission," She warned, her voice low.

Ezra nodded, holding up a hand in a placating gesture. "I know, and I'm aware it's going to put you in an awkward position," He said, attempting to mollify her. "But hear me out - I have a reason beyond just saying 'screw you, Agatha'."

Karen's glare sharpened at the mention of her mentor, and she crossed her arms defensively. "Don't speak of Lady Agatha like that," She growled.

Ezra smiled, with a butter wouldn't melt in my mouth kind of smile. "Of course."

He was mindful of the fact that Karen was still reporting to Agatha about him, just as he was aware that she had started feeling conflicted about doing so. If he played this right, it could work in his favor.

"Look," He continued, leaning forward slightly, "Agatha already knows I'm running a business, right? If you come along, you'd end up learning a lot of business secrets that would be of no use to her and would only get you in trouble if you shared them and break my trust. It'd also create a mess with my business partner. You understand that, right?"

Karen's frown deepened, but she didn't interrupt, gesturing for him to go on.

Ezra speared the last pancake on his plate and offered it to Rider, who happily took it, before continuing. "Instead of just disappearing and creating an issue between us - and between you and Agatha because you 'lost me' - I'm giving you a heads-up," He explained reasonably. "You can report to Agatha that I left for business, how long I'll be gone, and that I refused to let you in on any business secrets. It'll make sense to her, and she won't question it."

Karen's expression remained conflicted, though she slowly nodded, chewing on her lower lip as she thought it over. "I feel like you're not giving Lady Agatha the proper respect… But I can see how that might work out."

Ezra mentally exhaled in relief. So far, so good. Being upfront seemed to be working. He knew flipping Karen fully would be difficult, but this was a start. "So you can understand why I need to be gone for a few days?" He added, flashing her a teasing smile. "I know you'll miss me terribly."

Karen rolled her eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Who would miss you, idiot…"

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, her posture inadvertently causing her thin pajamas to stretch across her chest, revealing more than she likely intended. Ezra, never one to let an opportunity pass, flicked his gaze downward for the briefest moment, a smirk curling his lips. Karen, unaware at first, continued speaking, her voice still filled with mock annoyance.

"I don't like it," She admitted, sighing again. "I'm sure Lady Agatha is going to chew me out for letting you go off without me. But… You've been honest with me." She paused, biting her lip thoughtfully before adding, "I guess my decision rests on whether I believe you're telling the truth or lying to me."

Ezra put on his best innocent face, his crimson eyes wide and guileless. "Does this look like the face of a liar?" He asked, attempting to hold her gaze with the utmost seriousness.

He could only manage the act for a few seconds before his eyes dropped again, his expression turning into a wicked leer as he eyed her stretched pajamas and the bounty that was literally on display.

Karen blinked in confusion at first, her tired mind slowly catching up. Then, realization hit her like a thunderbolt, her face flushing a deep pink. She immediately uncrossed her arms, tugging her pajama shirt down to smooth out the fabric, glaring at him furiously.

"Pervert," She muttered under her breath, trying and failing to hide her embarrassment as she quickly rose from her seat. "I should go get dressed," She managed to say, her voice tight with both flustered frustration and embarrassment.

Ezra chuckled softly, watching her stomp off toward the stairs, her steps heavy with indignation. He couldn't resist calling after her, his tone teasing. "I'd let you convince me of a lot more if you keep wearing those thin pajamas!"

Karen froze mid-step, her body stiffening as if she was about to turn back and throw something at him. But instead, she let out a strangled huff of frustration and stormed up the stairs, disappearing from sight.

Ezra leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head and smirking to himself. That had gone better than expected. He'd managed to tell Karen about his plans without her completely losing her temper. Of course, it had taken some teasing to defuse the tension, but that was just how their dynamic worked.

He'd been right in his approach. Leaving without telling her, or lying, would have just broken the fragile cooperation they had going right now. By telling her the truth, he'd given her enough of an excuse to justify to herself letting it happen.

How many more times could she avoid reporting something to Agatha before she was entirely caught in not being able to say anything, because it would reveal she didn't say anything before?

And more importantly, if he bought her a set of PJs like that, would she wear them again for him?

He was about to get up to clean the table when Karen's voice rang out from the upstairs hallway, sharp and annoyed.

"I can tell you're thinking perverted things! Knock it off!" She shouted.

Ezra blinked in genuine surprise. Could she actually tell? Or was she just that good at guessing?

Shrugging off the mystery of the female mind, which was not worth looking too deep into, as only madness lay there. He glanced down at Rider, who was still sitting beside him, chewing on the last bits of pancake. "Rider," Ezra said, "Go fetch the others. We'll be leaving soon."

The Alolan Marowak nodded solemnly, hopping off the chair and making his way to the door. Ezra stood up, stretching his arms above his head as he mentally reviewed the day ahead.

He had to move quickly - before Karen had time to second-guess herself and before Agatha caught wind of what he was doing if she decided to share what she knew this early. The sooner he could slip away, the smoother everything would go. The Milotic project wasn't going to wait, and Steven had made it clear that his presence was necessary for the next steps.

The other evolutions, the knowledge needed to set his business up for instant success, get the money rolling in for him, and his figure endeavors.

Cecile should be arriving soon too… He'd have to drop a note for his lawyer on the way out, to ensure he took proper care of his golden egg laying duckling.

As he cleaned up the breakfast dishes and Rider trotted off to gather the rest of the team, Ezra couldn't help but think about the strange balancing act he'd been walking with Karen. She was sharp, loyal to Agatha, and surprisingly perceptive. But she was also fun to mess with, and if Ezra was being honest with himself, she was starting to get under his skin far more than he'd planned.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he set the plates into the sink, turning on the water to rinse them. No matter what happened, he knew one thing for certain - Karen kept things interesting.

And that was something Ezra didn't mind at all.

…

Upstairs, Karen splashed cold water on her face, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Ezra had been open with her about his business, which wasn't something he'd usually do. He kept his cards close to his chest, always two steps ahead, always with some scheme in mind. And yet, today, he had told her his plans straight out.

She sighed, gripping the edge of the sink and staring at her reflection in the mirror. The truth was, Ezra was getting under her skin in a way she hadn't expected.

He was infuriating, arrogant, and constantly teasing her. But then there were moments - like this morning - where he appeared to let his guard down, where he seemed almost… Genuine. It was confusing, and Karen hated feeling confused. She was Agatha's apprentice, trained to be sharp and decisive, to not get caught up in emotional games.

But Ezra… Ezra had a way of twisting her thoughts, making her feel like she was constantly playing catch-up.

"Ugh, why do you have to be so difficult?" She muttered under her breath, wiping her face with a towel.

Dressed and feeling a little more composed, she made her way back downstairs, bracing herself for more of Ezra's teasing remarks. She found him standing at the door, his back to her, as he called out instructions to his Pokemon, who had gathered near the stable's entrance.

He turned as she approached, a knowing smirk already in place. "Ready to see me off?" He asked casually.

Karen rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, then immediately uncrossing them when she remembered earlier. "Don't flatter yourself, I'm only making sure you actually leave, and aren't planning to prank me or something."

Ezra chuckled, pushing open the door and stepping outside. "I'll be back in a few days," He reminded her. "Try not to miss me too much, I know you'd go crazy without me poking at you."

"Right," Karen replied, watching him as he stepped into the early morning light. "Don't get yourself killed by running into someone who can't stand your bullshit."

Ezra shot her one last mischievous grin before heading off with Rider back at his side, the rest of his team already out front, waiting for him.

Karen watched him go, standing in the doorway with an odd mixture of relief and apprehension.

"Don't get yourself killed," She muttered under her breath again, softer this time, before turning back into the stable, the door clicking shut behind her.

Whatever Ezra had planned, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much bigger.

He never seemed to do anything by halves.

…

Ezra, walking along the dirt path leading away from the stable, allowed himself a rare moment of introspection. Everything was coming together - the breeding project with Steven with the Pokemon evolutions, his training, the social media project with Cecile - and now, his plans were starting to take shape and really head towards realization instead of just planning them.

But there was one thing he hadn't fully accounted for.

Karen.

She was a wrinkle in the ointment, someone who had entered his life at the insistence of Agatha, but who had become far more than just a watchful little spy. He could see it in her eyes - the hesitation, the doubt. She was caught between her loyalty to Agatha and the strange connection that had formed between them.

Ezra smirked to himself, shaking his head. Women were always a complication. But he had to admit that some complications made life more interesting, and in the end, he wouldn't change a thing.

If Karen thought he was difficult now, she hadn't seen anything yet.

…

Back at the stable, Karen paced the kitchen, her mind racing. Ezra's departure had left her feeling unsettled, and she didn't know why. She had been trained to deal with difficult situations, to assess risks and make the right calls. But with Ezra… It was just too different.

Nothing Agatha had trained her in had prepared her for how complicated he made everything. His stupid smirk shouldn't be so cute!

"Stop overthinking," She muttered to herself, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts.

But even as she told herself to let it go, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

"Damn him," She muttered, sinking back into her chair at the table.

No matter how hard she tried, Ezra had a way of just worming his way in, forcing himself into her thoughts, making her think about him, making her care what happened with him

With his stupid smirk, his stupid face, his stupid teasing, his annoying competence and secrecy…

The way he… Listened to her. Took her words seriously… Noticed her.

And the worst part was, she wasn't sure if she wanted him to stop.

Lavender Town, Kanto.

The sun hung low in the sky as Ezra Kassian landed just outside the dense woods that bordered Lavender Town. The town itself was hidden in the distance, a faint silhouette framed against the horizon. He had chosen this spot deliberately, ensuring he was far enough away from any prying eyes. Lavender was the last place he wanted to be seen openly. Too many chances of discovery. Too many eyes that would recognize him.

It's not like it would be a real issue, him skirting their little banishment. At worst he'd get a slap on the wrist and told to get out. But he wanted his return to be grand, to really rub it into their faces, and this occasion was not that. So he could not be seen.

As he dismounted from his Pidgeot that had flown him in, Ezra scanned the area, his crimson eyes narrowing in concentration. He wrapped his aura around himself, using his own shadow like a shroud, blending into the darkness cast by the trees. His form became nearly invisible as he moved, a faint ripple in the darkness the only sign of his presence as he skirted the edges of the forest.

His many training sessions at night while Karen was knocked out, was not only improving his Pokemon, but his own abilities as well.

After several minutes of silent travel, he reached a hill overlooking his destination. Nestled among the rolling hills and bordered by a slow-moving river was the farm that had been constructed for him. It was impressive - far more elaborate than he'd expected.

The property was enclosed by high stone walls, sturdy and imposing, built to prevent anyone from catching a glimpse of what lay inside. From his vantage point, Ezra could see a shimmering river cutting through the land, winding toward a small lake that took up a significant portion of the acreage. A small forest hugged the western edge of the property, and beyond it, rolling green hills stretched out, the land a patchwork of natural beauty and careful planning. In the center of it all stood a large compound of buildings - offices, training grounds, and quarters for staff, all built with practicality and privacy in mind.

Ezra's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. Steven had really outdone himself. The place was perfect for what it was meant to be - an isolated, secure facility for breeding and raising rare Pokemon without too many chances of prying into its secrets.

Pulling his shadows away, Ezra stepped out of the trees and made his way toward the entrance. The main gate, a heavy iron structure, was flanked by two guards, both trainers. Each had three Pokemon stationed beside them, all alert and watching the perimeter with sharp eyes. Even from a distance, Ezra could feel the scrutiny of the guards and the professional attitude they held. These guards were no joke - Steven had clearly invested in top-tier security.

As Ezra approached, one of the guards stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he raised a hand to stop him.

"Halt. Identify yourself," The guard ordered, his voice firm. The Pokemon at his side - an imposing Rapidash - growled low in its throat, its eyes locking onto Ezra. "This is a restricted area."

Ezra's smirk widened. Steven didn't play around. He liked that. It said good things about how successful this venture would be. And how seriously Steven took it.

"Ezra Kassian," He said smoothly, his tone dripping with confidence. "Part-owner of this wonderful place."

The guard didn't relax. Instead, he pulled out a clipboard and checked it, before looking back up. "Apologies, but for identification purposes, we'll need to see some ID - and your Pokemon. … Rhyno, is it?"

Ezra raised an eyebrow, amused. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out his Trainer ID and handing it over. "You need my ID? I thought my charming appearance was enough." He was kind of easy to identify compared to the average person, "And it's Rider, not Rhyno." He added.

The guard took the ID, barely glancing up at Ezra's comment. His expression remained serious as he examined the card. "Looks can be faked," He said flatly, still not lowering his guard completely.

Ezra suppressed a chuckle. These guys were good. The other guard stood back, his Pokemon alert but unmoving, ready to jump into action if needed. To think they even named his Pokemon wrong to try and trip him up.

With a flick of his wrist, a Pokeball was tossed out as Ezra summoned Rider, his Alolan Marowak. The ghostly Pokemon materialized beside him, his bone club ablaze, his expression curious as ever.

The guards visibly relaxed at the sight of Rider, though they still maintained their professionalism. The Rapidash stepped back, its growl fading as it returned to its post. Ezra supposed the likelihood of someone else figuring out how to evolve a cubone into a Ghost type Marowak yet was low enough just this was enough for identification.

"You're clear," The guard said, handing back Ezra's ID. "You may enter. Mister Stone is expecting you. My partner here will escort you to him."

The second trainer - a tall, lean man with an almost delicate, effeminate appearance and a permanent scowl etched on his face - stepped forward. He had three Pokemon flanking him; a sleek Persian, a muscular Machamp, and a floating Solrock. Despite his grumpy demeanor, there was an unmistakable air of competence about him.

Ezra gave a small nod, motioning for Rider to stay at his side as they followed the trainer through the gates. He idly noticed that the two trainers by themselves were not enough to open them, and that they had to contact the compound and have a third trainer press something from their side.

At least he could feel comfortable in this not being an easy location for Team Rocket to strike at.

As they walked along the path leading toward the compound, Ezra glanced around, taking in the finer details of the operation. The land had been expertly divided, with different areas designated for different types of Pokemon. He could see water Pokemon gliding through the river, while flying types circled the skies above the small forest.

"Security's tight," Ezra commented approvingly, his eyes scanning the landscape as they passed a few more patrolling guards, no one seemed to be by themselves, always accompanied by at minimum a second guard.

"Sure is, sir," The trainer replied, his tone professional. "We've got multiple layers of security. There's a Pokemon stationed underground at the gate even, so even if the guards were taken out immediately, we'd still have a report sent back in time for a response. We've got a trio of Alakazam maintaining a barrier to prevent any unauthorized flying over the walls. And we've got Dark type specialists and their Pokemon ensuring teleportation will not happen without our permission.

Ezra nodded, impressed. Maybe a bit overly cautious, but then again, you could never be too careful in this line of work, it would be insanely profitable after all. The secrecy of this project was everything. If word got out about the particulars about how the breeding programs worked, they'd lose their competitive advantage. And Ezra wasn't about to let that happen.

"Your competency makes me hard." He murmured, eying all the security measures.

"... As you say, sir…" The trainer replied, looking uncomfortable.

The trainer led him to the main building, a sleek, modern structure overlooking the lake. The large windows offered a view of the entire property, and Ezra could already tell this was where the operation was being overseen. A prim secretary type, dressed in sharp business attire, greeted him at the entrance.

"Welcome, Mister Kassian," She said with a polite smile. "Mister Stone is expecting you."

She led him through the building, her heels clicking on the polished floors as they passed various offices and labs. As they approached a large set of double doors, the secretary knocked once before pushing them open, revealing a spacious office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the farm.

And there, standing by the window with his back to the door, was Steven Stone. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, complete with a sweeping cape that fluttered slightly as he turned, Steven cut an imposing yet refined figure. His steel blue hair caught the light, gleaming like the stones he was so famously obsessed with.

"Welcome to the Ranch," Steven said, a knowing smirk on his face as he stepped forward to greet Ezra. He extended a hand, his eyes gleaming with something undecipherable. "I hope it's everything you dreamed of?"

Ezra clasped Steven's hand, his own smirk widening into a wild grin. "Oh, it'll do perfectly."

Steven chuckled, releasing Ezra's hand as he gestured to the window. "Take a look. We've got everything set up exactly as you wanted. The lake is stocked with Feebas. Once we finalize the details on how many we want at a time for sale and for keeping around to harvest scales from, the Milotic farm will be up and running within the week."

Ezra stepped closer to the window, gazing out at the sprawling property. It was all there - everything he needed to ensure the success of their venture. The river flowed steadily, feeding into the lake, where he could just make out the faint ripples of movement beneath the water's surface. The forest provided shelter for the flying types, and the hills were dotted with small enclosures for the other Pokemon they planned to breed and evolve.

The operation was bigger than he had imagined. And the potential for profit… It was staggering. Considering the obsession in this world over Pokemon, let alone rare or beautiful ones… This alone had the potential to make him one of the richest men alive.

"You've outdone yourself, Steven," Ezra said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "This place… It's going to make us more money than we'll know what to do with."

Steven's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "And it's only the beginning. Once we get the first batch of Milotic on the market, we'll have a monopoly on one of the most beautiful and rare Pokemon in the world. Every rich collector and trainer in every region will be lining up to buy from us." He made a sweeping gesture, "And we can artificially create more of a market by holding them back and selling a few at a time, ensuring our sales of scales remain robust."

Ezra nodded, his mind already racing with ideas. "And that's just Milotic. We've got other Pokemon in the works like I told you. Dragon types, rare evolutions… We're going to control the market on some of the most powerful species out there." He couldn't wait to see his bank account explode.

Steven walked over to a desk in the center of the room, picking up a folder and handing it to Ezra. "These are the final plans for what we have available for the breeding programs and evolutions possible based on the information you've given me. You'll need to look them over and make sure everything's in place. We've also got a few of your requested Pokemon in transit. They'll be here by the end of the week."

Ezra flipped through the folder, his eyes scanning the details. Everything was laid out perfectly - timelines, security measures, known evolution techniques that's the norm for the world as is, before he was about to shock it completely. Steven had thought of everything.

Professor Oak was going to have a stroke once they put out their first auction, and showed off what they had. Ezra idly reminded himself he would have to send the man an invitation, a smug one.

"This is good," Ezra said, closing the folder and tucking it under his arm. "Once I've had a look around, I'll finalize the training procedures for your people. Some of the evolution methods we're using that I have developed are… Unconventional."

Steven smirked, his eyes glinting with interest. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Ezra after our first talk and subsequent discussions. I'm looking forward to seeing your methods in action."

Ezra gave a curt nod, his mind already moving on to the next steps. The pieces were all in place.

It was time to make it rain money.

Ezra and Steven walked through the wide, open stable area, their boots crunching softly on the gravel path that wound between the enclosures. The stables themselves were designed with care to accommodate the multitude of rare and diverse Pokemon already housed there. Various Pokemon species were busy inside their enclosures - some darted around in groups, others were perched on ledges, or dozing in the shade provided by carefully placed canopies.

As they walked, the caregivers and handlers who managed the day-to-day work of caring for the Pokemon watched Ezra with attentive eyes. They all knew who he was - he was the one responsible for much of the evolutionary 'research' behind this entire program. Steven of course had assured him that the people hired to work here were all vetted professionals from his corporation, and there was no hiding the spark of curiosity and excitement that flickered in their gazes whenever Ezra walked past.

They'd also been buried in NDA's and punitive contracts to ensure their life would be effectively over if they shared the methods used here with anyone else.

The two men continued their stroll, with Steven mostly silent, watching Ezra's reactions as they passed the various enclosures. Finally, they approached a pen where several Mankeys were running about, playfully wrestling one another, and making their usual loud, chattering noises. Ezra stopped, a smirk tugging at his lips. The addition of Mankeys? That was going to make him a fortune.

Maybe.

It wouldn't be the easiest one to handle, but it would definitely be one unlikely to be able to be cracked by anyone else anytime soon.

If he could get a few of these creatures to evolve into Annihilape, they would be priceless - especially considering how rare the evolved form likely was, he doubted anyone else had one. He could already picture collectors and competitive trainers throwing money at the chance to own one.

Noticing Ezra's interest, one of the handlers, a tall man with a notepad and pen at the ready, eagerly stepped forward. "I noticed you were focusing on our Mankeys, sir. Could you give us the details on how to evolve them?" He asked, his voice a little breathless with anticipation. The rest of the crowd of people following them all perked up as well.

Ezra flicked a glance at Steven, who simply gave him a small nod, his lips curling into a faint smile. "Go on," Steven urged. "This is what you're here for, after all. I admit, I'm curious myself."

Ezra turned back to the group of handlers, now standing much closer, their eyes fixed on him with a mix of awe and expectation. It was amusing, really, how everyone seemed to hang on his every word. He was glad they'd all signed the necessary NDA's - no one would dare cross Steven Stone, and that alone was enough security for Ezra.

If he'd done this by himself… Even with the ten million, it would have been impossible, and he couldn't have guaranteed silence half as well as someone like Steven, who few would dare cross in such a way.

"Alright," Ezra began, clasping his hands behind his back. "For this particular evolution… It's not the safest or easiest to handle." He paused for a moment, watching the crowd of handlers lean in slightly, eager to hear the details. "First, they have to evolve into Primeape, which I assume you all know how to do."

Several of the handlers nodded in response. They were experienced enough to handle that much, at least. It had probably been much easier to gather a gaggle of Mankeys than Primeapes, which is why they had the unevolved forms here.

"Now," Ezra continued, his voice dropping slightly, "The secret to getting an Annihilape from a Primeape…" He paused dramatically, enjoying the way the crowd seemed to hold its collective breath, hanging on his next words. "…is to piss it off until it dies from rage."

The silence that followed his statement was almost comical. The gathered men and women stared at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Even Steven's normally composed expression faltered for a moment, his eyebrows raising in surprise, with a mutter of, "What?" Falling from his lips.

Ezra's smirk widened as he saw their reactions. "I know, it sounds crazy," He said, holding his hands up in a mock surrender. "But it works. That's why it's not exactly the safest process. You'll need to take precautions, but yes, you have to enrage a Primeape to the point where its fury literally consumes it. Instead of dying, it becomes an Annihilape."

One of the handlers, a young woman with a notebook clutched tightly to her large chest, blinked and raised her hand hesitantly. "You mean… We have to kill them with anger?" She asked, clearly trying to process the information.

"Not exactly," Ezra clarified, waving a hand. "It's more about pushing them to their limits - enough to trigger the evolution before they can succumb. Teaching them Rage Fist, for example, and having them use that move repeatedly can help build up that energy. The more they use it, the closer they get to reaching the necessary state. That said, you need to actually make them angry, constantly, and consistently until the rage boils over."

He chuckled, "Calling them weak or disparaging their fighting skills seem to work."

There was a murmur of agreement among the handlers, though many still looked a bit skeptical. One of the men - an older, grizzled handler who seemed unfazed by the process - chuckled darkly. "Well, that's one way to handle it," He said, shaking his head, while rubbing his hands together almost gleefully, "Pissing people off is my specialty."

The man who had initially asked the question for Ezra to share his knowledge, Sebastian, as Ezra would later learn - nodded thoughtfully. "Too right Blake," Before he got a sly look, "Jordan, you're on Primeape duty with Blake," He said without hesitation.

The rest of the group snickered as a man named Jordan groaned, casting an exasperated look skyward. "What did I ever do to you, Sebastian?" Jordan grumbled, clearly not thrilled at the idea of handling enraged Primeapes.

"You slept with my wife," Sebastian replied dryly, not missing a beat.

Jordan rolled his eyes. "You hate your wife, I was doing you a favor."

"It's the thought of how sick you are to climb that hill that counts in my book," Sebastian sniffed, before turning back to Ezra with a respectful nod. "Thanks for the details, sir. We've already been told how to evolve Feebas into Milotic, and honestly, I can't believe no one else figured that out earlier." He shook his head, amazed at the oversight. "Could we get the details for the next set?"

Ezra chuckled at the banter between the handlers but nodded in response to Sebastian's request. "Of course," He said, gesturing for the group to follow him.

For the next hour, Ezra led the team through the various stables and enclosures, stopping at each pen to explain the unique evolutionary processes for the Pokemon in question. He took his time, walking the handlers through each step, making sure to give detailed notes where necessary.

At one enclosure, they stopped to admire a group of Scyther, the young bug types clashing with each other for entertainment as they watched. "Scyther, as some of you might know, is a fairly popular Pokemon without an evolution." Ezra explained. "That's not true, train with one wearing a metal coat, and it will evolve into what I call Scizor, a bug/steel type," He smirked as the handlers all gasped in excitement, "Expose the Scyther to Black Augurite… And you'll get what I call Kleavor, a bug/rock type Pokemon."

"This is pure gold." Sebastian almost moaned out, as he scribbled down notes with a mad grin on his face.

Ezra only chuckled, before he had a thought, "The first Kleavor… I want it sent to Brock, Flint's son in Pewter." He ordered.

The guy was such a bro, he deserved a reward above what he was being paid.

Sebastian nodded, making a note of it.

They moved on, Ezra giving detailed instructions for the rarer Pokemon, including strategies for helping them evolve all based on his memories, and he was fairly certain some of the information would be slightly off, but the evolution part should be right at least. The handlers listened intently, scribbling notes on their clipboards or tapping on their devices as they absorbed the information. The air was filled with the soft murmur of Pokemon and the scribbling of pens as they followed Ezra through the facilities, each of them eager to apply his techniques.

Ezra felt a deep sense of satisfaction as he shared his knowledge and saw them swallow it whole, eager to try it, and to expand on what they'd learned. This was his domain, even if shared with Steven. And soon enough, the world would come knocking at their door, ready to pay whatever price they demanded.

He was essentially rich already. His bank account just didn't know yet.

A few hours later,

Ezra and Steven stood in front of the vault door, a massive, reinforced barrier that seemed more appropriate for a high-security government facility than for a breeding farm. The keypad on the door blinked, awaiting input, and above it, a scanner glowed faintly, ready to check for their retinal patterns. Ezra couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, impressed despite himself.

"I have to say," Ezra muttered, stepping forward to enter the code Steven had given him earlier, "I didn't expect this level of security for what's essentially a farm."

Steven simply smiled as the door emitted a mechanical click and swung open with a smooth, soundless motion after it had scanned his eye. "If it's worth doing," He said with a smug edge in his voice, "It's worth doing well. Never forget that."

Ezra chuckled as they walked into the vault. The lights flickered on, revealing a room lined from floor to ceiling with shelves filled with evolution stones. It was as if they'd walked into a treasure trove. The walls were stacked with Leaf Stones, Thunder Stones, Fire Stones, Sun Stones, and every other variety known to man. Some of them glimmered in the artificial light, their inherent energy almost tangible.

He also noted to his pleasure - a small collection of Black Augurite, which meant Brock would get his gift sooner then he'd expected.

"I have to admit," Ezra said as he looked around, taking in the sheer quantity of stones, "You certainly don't waste time." He reached out, picking up a Sun Stone from one of the lower shelves, weighing it in his hand. "It's impressive."

Steven hummed in satisfaction, his eyes scanning the vault with pride. "I've always found that patience is overrated in business. You seize the moment or you lose it. The Eeveelutions you mentioned aren't exactly unknown to the entire world, but they're rare enough to be seen as almost mythical in Kanto and Johto at least, and in some aspects Hoenn and Sinnoh as well. And with access to stones like these…" He gestured broadly at the room. "We'll control the market."

Ezra nodded. He had noticed during his research that even common knowledge about certain Eeveelutions was hard to come by. Leafeon, for instance, wasn't even listed in some of the more thorough databases, and finding references to specific evolutions of Pokemon like Arcanine had been surprisingly difficult. Where it should have really been fairly easy for someone to test how the evolution worked.

He suspected clan shenanigans working at suppressing information that gave them an advantage.

"It's not that people don't know then, I suppose," Ezra commented, placing the Sun Stone back carefully on the shelf, "It's that they don't have the resources. These stones are expensive, and unless you're loaded or get lucky, most trainers can't justify the cost of an evolution stone on a whim, especially if they're not sure."

Steven turned to face him, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "And that's where we come in. While the knowledge of stone-triggered evolutions isn't exactly hidden amongst researchers and the like. Most trainers are not so aware of the possible evolutions or their means. Our job is to control how many of them are available and for how much, ensuring even those who know can't match us in the quantity of evolutions."

Ezra smirked at the thought. It was the perfect plan. Supply and demand would be heavily skewed in their favor. "So, the fact that some of these evolutions are already known… Won't be an issue?" Ezra asked, though he already knew the answer.

Steven's eyes glinted with predatory satisfaction. "Not at all. You see, while these evolutions are mostly known to a select few researchers and specialists, they've never been available on a commercial scale. A Flareon here, a Vaporeon there, perhaps one or two Leafeons in obscure studies. But the general public? They have no idea how to access these evolutions and in many cases don't even know they exist yet, and the trainers who have managed it aren't exactly sharing the details." He paused, a smirk forming on his lips. "And once the information does leak out, we'll have an almost total monopoly on the stones themselves due to my efforts. No one else will be able to scale this as fast or as effectively as we can."

Ezra let out a low chuckle, fully appreciating the genius of the plan. "You bought up every stone you could find, didn't you?"

It wouldn't stop people from finding a stone. But to match their industrial level? No one would be capable. If you wanted a Jolteon, a Glaceon, and so on, you'd have to come here.

Steven's smug smile widened. "I did. I spent the time since you informed me of this plan of yours, quietly purchasing evolution stones from every corner of the globe that I had access to. No matter where they've been found, traded, or stored, I've ensured they're now in our possession. And yes, we may not be the sole keeper of the evolutionary secrets, but by the time that information becomes common knowledge, we'll already have a stranglehold on the supply."

Ezra's grin matched Steven's as he glanced around the vault, marveling at the sheer number of stones they had gathered. He could already imagine the demand that would skyrocket once word got out. Collectors, trainers, researchers - everyone would come crawling to them, desperate for one of these evolutions.

"We'll be able to pick our price," Ezra murmured, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "And the rarer Eeveelutions… They'll sell themselves."

Steven's eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and pride. "Exactly. Even moving away from Eevees, Arcanine alone will bring in a fortune. I've already begun discussing potential supply deals with the police force. With their Growlithes, they'll be very interested in the Arcanine evolution. And as for the rest of the Eeveelutions - Vaporeon, Jolteon, Leafeon, and beyond - trainers will pay whatever we ask to get their hands on them."

The two of them shared a look of understanding. This wasn't just a breeding farm; it was a business empire in the making, and Steven had clearly gone all in. Ezra had to admit, seeking him out as a business partner had been one of his smarter moves.

Just then, behind them, Sebastian, the overly eager handler from earlier, entered the vault, able to as they'd left the vault door open. His eyes immediately lit up as he saw the walls lined with evolution stones. He approached them quickly, his notepad already open, and Ezra could see the excitement practically buzzing off him.

"Sir," Sebastian said, glancing between Steven and Ezra, "I've been told you have three Eeveelutions that don't require stones for their transformation. Would you care to share the method with us?" He looked almost reproachful for a moment, "You must have forgotten earlier…"

Ezra crossed his arms and glanced at Steven, who offered him an amused shrug. "Go ahead, Ezra. This is what they're here for, after all. And I admit, I'm always interested in what you have to say on the topic of evolutions."

Ezra sighed, turning back to Sebastian. The handler looked at him like he was a starving man about to receive his first meal in days. His enthusiasm was almost unnerving. "Alright," Ezra said, deciding to start with Umbreon, "For Umbreon, it's relatively straightforward. You'll want to allow the Eevee out at night only. Play with them, bond with them - and battle with them, if possible. It's all about happiness and trust. Once they're happy enough with their trainer, and the conditions are right, they'll evolve into Umbreon."

Sebastian scribbled furiously in his notebook, his eyes wide with interest. "Friendship, you say?" He muttered to himself, shaking his head as if the concept was ludicrous. "That's not exactly something the science community would have guessed…"

Ezra smirked. "Trust me, it works. And it's not like it's a difficult process. The Eevee will become quite attached, though, so doing it in revolving groups should help mitigate that somewhat while still giving the Eevee enough attention."

His thoughts went to his own, wondering how much longer until he had an Umbreon.

That particular Pokemon was known about, but as with so many other things, the method to get that evolution was not public knowledge.

Sebastian nodded eagerly. "We'll make it work."

Ezra continued, moving on to the next evolution. "For Espeon it's the same process but for days instead of nights. For Sylveon, it's essentially the same process, with needing to interact with the Eevee during the day as well, and the key is to teach it a Fairy-type move. Baby-Doll Eyes, Charm - anything in that category will do the trick."

For a moment, the vault was deathly silent. Sebastian had frozen, his pen hovering over his notepad. His eyes locked on Ezra, his mouth slightly agape.

"What?" Ezra asked, genuinely confused.

"Fairy?" Sebastian repeated slowly, his voice hushed as if he could hardly believe what he was hearing.

Ezra blinked, realizing his mistake. "Oh… Right. I forgot. You people don't really have Fairy type confirmed yet, do you?"

Steven, who had been watching with interest, stepped forward, his expression sharp. "Fairy?" His voice was a mix of curiosity and frustration. "I know there have been some researchers theorizing a Fairy type, but they haven't managed to present any concrete evidence."

Sebastian's hand shot to his notepad, and he began furiously scribbling once more. "Of course… That would make sense. The interactions, the affinities…Clefable is fairy, not normal, of course!"

Ezra sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was what happened when he let things slip too easily. "Look, all you need to know is that Fairy type moves are a trigger for Sylveon's evolution. Teach Eevee a Fairy type move, bond with them, and you'll get your Sylveon."

"Fascinating…" Sebastian muttered, his hand never slowing as he wrote down every word. "This changes so much…"

Steven, meanwhile, folded his arms, his gaze narrowing in thought. "How do you know this?" He asked, his voice quiet but probing. "The theory of Fairy types is still in its infancy, and no one has definitively proven their existence."

Ezra scratched his chin, regretting his loose tongue for the hundredth time. But he needed to share enough to make the project work - Sylveons would be top sellers, after all. "I'm… Burdened with terrible knowledge," He said, his tone almost joking.

Steven paused, his expression thoughtful. "Another Legendary working through you, perhaps? Or was it Darkrai? No… You knew this before that, didn't you?"

Ezra's eyes narrowed as he glared at Steven. "How do you know about that?" Ezra's voice was sharp, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He had expected Steven to be resourceful, but knowledge about the 'Darkrai' incident? That should have been classified beyond anyone's reach.

How useless was Lance?

Steven chuckled lightly, his gaze almost amused. "Ezra, Lance is from Johto, as was Pryce before him. It has never been difficult to… Persuade certain members of Kanto's League staff to share secrets. At least, for those who have the means." His smile was calm, calculated. "Secrets don't stay hidden for long when Kanto and Johto are as divided as they are. Especially not when people in power can use them to undermine their rivals."

Ezra's expression darkened. "You're saying this classified information was just… Up for sale?"

Steven gave a casual shrug, not bothered in the slightest by the tension now hanging in the air. "Top-secret or classified doesn't mean much when it's in the hands of people who hate each other. If there's even a hint that something might hurt Lance's position - or Pryce's before him - people are more than willing to talk. I hate to break it to you, but your League is a mess. Everyone has an agenda, and there are few who are truly loyal to the concept of a unified Kanto and Johto."

"Fantastic," Ezra muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose again. So, Giovanni didn't need a word from that base to know what went down, he thought angrily… He could just ask around and someone would happily spill everything."

Steven nodded, his face now serious. "Exactly. That's why Lance, and Pryce before him, rarely flexed their full power. If they did, half the gym leaders in Kanto would openly rebel. They don't make big moves because any sign of heavy-handed rule from Johto would lead to open revolt. It's all a delicate balance, which is why most of what the League does is compromises that leaves everyone equally unhappy."

The Hoenn prick was taking way too much amusement out of explaining this, Ezra thought, feeling like he'd put too much trust in the likes of Agatha and Lance to not be incompetent.

"Great," Ezra muttered again. It was starting to become clear that the aftermath of the Kanto-Johto war still hung like a storm cloud over everything. Even though the fighting had officially ended, the war had left deep scars, and that tension was still playing out in the shadows. He was beginning to understand just how fractured the world really was. The League wasn't a unified body, but a patchwork of old grudges and shaky alliances.

Now he definitely did not want to become Agatha's apprentice. Last thing he needed was to become a simple pawn on that chessboard.

Not that being instead a knight - a gym leader - would necessarily save him from headaches.

Steven's tone softened slightly, sensing Ezra's frustration. "It's a mess, but it also means opportunities. People who can navigate the chaos - people like us - can come out on top. That's why I made sure this venture is protected from prying eyes. We can make a fortune, and no one's going to interfere because they're too busy fighting each other." He gained a look of amusement, "Or in Lance's case, too busy ensuring I don't hang around, to care about another money making venture… As long as we pay our taxes."

Before Ezra could reply, Sebastian, who had been silently scribbling in his notebook during the entire exchange, suddenly interrupted. His eyes were gleaming with hunger for more information. "This is all fascinating, but the politics are irrelevant to me. What I care about is this Fairy typing you mentioned." His intense gaze locked onto Ezra, practically pinning him in place. "Tell me more. We need to understand this better if we're going to fully exploit it."

Ezra shot Steven a pleading look, but Steven merely smiled, clearly enjoying the situation. "Go on," Steven said casually. "You've opened Pandora's box now, Ezra. Might as well see it through."

Ezra groaned internally, before telling Sebastian, "Oh, look at the time, Steven and I have that thing, right? Remember the thing?" He told Steven, in no mood to be caught with a nerd in infoorgasm mode.

Steven smirked at him, checking his watch, "Oh, I can handle that on my own, no need to worry, Ezra, you have all the time in the world."

As Steven walked away, chuckling, Ezra gave him a death glare, promising himself he'd get the man back for that. Even as Sebastian crowded in way too close for comfort, eyes wide, pleading with him to share everything he knew.

Ezra gave him an uncomfortable look, he looked almost like he wanted to crack Ezra's skull open and suck up all the juicy information.

It was creepy.

Damn you, Steven!

Pewter city, Kanto.

The sun was shining brightly over the rolling fields around Ezra's stable, with the air thick with the smells of grass, fresh earth, and the subtle musk of various Pokemon that roamed freely. Karen and Brock moved through the area, their footsteps light as they wandered from one place to the next, feeding Ezra's Pokemon.

Karen seemed especially at home, her hands lingering a little longer over the Dark types, their forms responding to her with affection. A sneaky Sableye clambered up onto her shoulder, its mischievous grin widening as it nuzzled against her neck.

"Dark Pokemon really do seem to like you," Brock commented, tossing a handful of berries into the forest, where a Murkrow was watching them from the shadows of a tree.

Karen smiled, gently scratching the Sableye's head. "I guess, it's really only gotten to this point since I met Ezra... That said, I've always loved them, there's something about their intensity... Their raw, unpredictable nature. It's like they're always one step away from chaos, yet still keeping on the right side, and I appreciate that." She cast a glance at the Murkrow, her eyes gleaming with pride in her chosen craft. "Besides, they keep me on my toes more than boring rock types."

Brock laughed lightly. "Yeah, I guess we're easy." He responded to the tease easily, "You certainly seem to handle them better than most trainers. Dark types can be tough to bond with from what I read up on." He looked around the stable thoughtfully, admiring how well-kept and organized all the Pokemon kept. "It's weird to see it all go down so well, even with me, these Pokemon haven't behaved anything like they're supposed to. Dark or Ghost, they're just so… Calm."

"True, it's definitely strange." Karen mused, her gaze following a Poochyena and Houndor as they scampered across the field. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised he created something like this either… It lets him run his businesses, train his Pokemon, and... Well, probably scheme." She snickered at the thought, imagining Ezra constantly thinking up new ways to make money and irritate people in equal measure.

For once it wouldn't be her, which she was thankful for. Even if she was curious what exactly he was getting up to. She was still awaiting word from Agatha, expecting a blistering for accepting that she had no business getting into… His business.

They walked a little further, stopping to feed a few more of Ezra's Pokemon with a few of Karen's intermixed, when Brock glanced at Karen out of the corner of his eye, clearly trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. "So... I know my dad apologized, how did you take that?"

Karen's mood soured instantly, her hand pausing mid-pet as she looked at Brock with narrowed eyes. "You really want to talk about that guy?" Her voice dripped with irritation, though it wasn't directed at Brock. "He's... something else. I still can't believe the way he treated you back at the festival, let alone how he reacted to me at first. If I had to live under his roof, I'd go nuts."

Brock sighed, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah, Dad's... complicated. He's not always that bad, though. Victory Day just brings out the worst in him." He winced, as if the memory of his father's antics still weighed heavily on his mind. "But it's not all bad. He means well -"

Karen cut him off with a scoff. "Means well? Brock, he humiliated you in front of a crowd, talked down on you, called you his fool son amongst other things. If that's his way of showing love, he needs a serious reality check." She picked up a handful of berries and tossed them absently into another enclosure, her gaze hard. "I don't know how you put up with it, but you shouldn't keep making excuses for him."

She knew she was really butting in where she wasn't wanted. And with her experience… Family wasn't something she should really give advice on - but then again, he'd brought it up himself, so she felt it was fair to speak her mind on the issue.

Brock shifted uncomfortably, clearly not wanting to dive too deep into that topic. "It's just... How he is. He can be overbearing, sure, but... At the end of the day, he's my dad. I try to see past the rough edges." He quickly tried to change the subject, glancing at a particularly large group of Dark Pokemon near the far end of the stable, most of them Karen's "Anyway, what's your favorite Dark type here? I noticed you spent a lot of time with the Sneasel earlier, and Ezra told me you have a Weavile as well."

Karen gave him a sidelong look, knowing exactly what he was doing, but she let it go. "Sneasel's alright," She said, her voice more casual now. "But I have a soft spot for Houndour and Houndoom. There's something about their loyalty and fiery attitude that resonates with me. Plus, they're strong as hell if you work them right."

Brock nodded, looking relieved at the continued shift in topic, which made Karen want to roll her eyes, since he had brought it up in the first place. "Yeah, I can see where you're coming from. I've always been more into Rock types since it's kind of the family business, it's what I know, but I can see the appeal. Dark types are... Unique."

Their conversation continued as they made their rounds, Brock asking more about the Dark types to avoid going back to family matters. Karen was in the middle of describing the differences in temperament between some of the Pokemon when a loud thump echoed from the far side of the stable. Both trainers froze, their eyes snapping to the source of the sound.

Three figures vaulted over the high fence surrounding the property, landing with surprising agility in the open field just a few meters away from them. Two men and one woman stood there, each dressed in the unmistakable black uniforms of Team Rocket, though their appearances were a bit... Off.

Before either Karen or Brock could react, one of the men stepped forward, grinning wickedly. "Alright, brats! Hand over your Pokemon and all your cash, and no one gets hurt!" He released a Raticate from a Pokeball, its sharp teeth gleaming in the sunlight. The other two grunts quickly followed suit, releasing a Zubat and a Koffing.

Brock squinted at the trio, unimpressed. "Seriously? Is this a joke?" His arms crossed over his chest, showing no fear whatsoever.

The two of them weren't exactly rookie trainers to begin with, and they were also standing in a stable full of Pokemon. Even now, many of the Ghosts and Dark types around were paying close attention to the three grunts and their freshly called Pokemon.

"Hey, are you deaf? Cough up your Pokemon already!" One of the grunts said, pointing dramatically at them.

Karen's lips curled into a dark smile as she glanced around the stable. One by one, Dark types and Ghost Pokemon began emerging from the shadows, their eyes glowing eerily as they surrounded the intruders. "Oh, you mean these Pokemon?" She purred, clearly relishing the opportunity for a fight.

The Rocket grunts exchanged nervous glances but stood their ground, barking orders at their Pokemon. "Raticate, Hyper Fang! Zubat, Supersonic! Koffing, Smog!"

The Pokemon rushed forward, but they didn't get far.

"Rhyhorn, let's show them how it's done!" Brock called out, throwing a Pokeball into the air. His massive Rhyhorn hit the ground with a thunderous stomp, its eyes locking onto the approaching Pokemon. Without hesitation, it stomped the ground before rushing forward, the Raticate losing it footing as the ground shook, never finishing its Hyper Fang as the Ryhorn barreled into the Raticate with devastating force, sending the Normal type flying across the field.

Karen didn't even need to give a command as the Dark types and Ghosts surged toward the intruders' Pokemon. She was somewhat disappointed to not get to play, even as she stood there enjoying the view of the multitude of Pokemon rushing in on the three idiots.

Even still, her eyes narrowed as she studied them as they flailed pathetically, something is definitely off…

The grunts' Pokemon didn't stand a chance as the stable Pokemon descended. Within seconds, they were overwhelmed by the sheer number of Dark types and Ghosts swarming them. Koffing's Smog was snuffed out by the dark energy of the attacking Dark types, and Zubat was quickly grounded by a coalition of Ghosts whose attacks laid it out with extreme prejudice. Raticate, already battered by Rhyhorn's charge, barely managed to get to its feet before being buried again as the Ryhorn casually stepped on it.

The grunts, seeing their Pokemon completely overrun, began to panic. "This isn't going as planned!" One of them shouted, eyes wide with terror.

Karen and Brock shared a look of incredulity.

"No kidding!" The female grunt screeched, backing up against the fence as she tried to recall her unconscious Zubat. "We need to get out of here!"

Brock shook his head, unimpressed. "It's a little late for that." He watched calmly as the Dark types corralled the defeated Pokemon, nipping at them while giving them threatening smiles, ensuring none of them would be getting up anytime soon as they quivered."You're not going anywhere."

Karen's eyes gleamed as she approached the woman, her grin widening. "Looks like you picked the wrong place to rob." She waved a hand, and the nearby Ghost Pokemon floated in closer, their eyes glowing ominously. "Consider yourselves lucky we're feeling merciful today, surrender, or I let them have you, they're not exactly ~mine, they might not ~listen if you wait too long." Her grin kept widening as she walked forward, almost singing in glee as she got closer to the grunts, "What's it going to be, hmm?" She purred, "Total devastation?"

The grunts, now visibly trembling, held their hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright! We give up! Just... Don't let them eat us!" The lead grunt cried, his voice shaking as he glanced at the snarling Pokemon circling them.

Karen snorted in amusement as she and Brock quickly tied up the grunts, using some leftover rope from the nearby tool shed. Once the three were securely bound, Brock sent a quick message to his father, requesting backup.

If Team Rocket was making a move in Pewter, he needed to know.

Personally, Karen thought something stunk about this whole thing, and she wasn't sure she wanted Flint around. But Brock was the local so she'd deferred.

As they stood over the defeated grunts, Karen frowned, her brow furrowing in thought. As she put to words what she'd been feeling the entire time since these idiots arrived. "Something's... Really off about these guys."

Brock glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" He glanced at them again, snorting, "Except for their stupidity I'm assuming?"

One of the grunts called out, "Hey, we already surrendered, you don't need to pick on us!" Brock gave him a disbelieving look.

Karen poked one of the grunts with her boot, her frown deepening. "I've run into Team Rocket before, and they weren't nearly this sloppy. These guys feel... Wrong." More pathetic, then anything, she thought.

The female grunt, still cowering on the ground, yelped in protest. "Hey, quit poking me! That's harassment!" She whined.

Karen ignored her, crouching down and tugging at the woman's sleeve. She frowned as she felt the material, then tugged harder, examining the fabric. "Their uniforms aren't right. The fit, the feel, even the color's a little off now that I'm looking closer."

Brock blinked, surprised. "Wait... Are you saying these guys are copycats?" He sounded flabbergasted, "Who would be stupid enough to copy terrorists?"

Then he looked them over again, crossing his arms, nodding firmly, "Actually, I could believe it of these ones."

A trio of "Hey!" Sounded out, but they both ignored them.

Karen straightened up, tapping her lips as she mulled it over. "It's possible. I can't see the real Team Rocket sending these losers after us. It doesn't make sense, not after..." She trailed off, glancing at Brock and then the grunts, clearly holding something back. "Nevermind."

She really didn't need to talk to him about that attack, and what the base had looked like after, or Whitney's sister… Karen gave the trio a dark look, if they were really Team Rocket… She'd be willing to have a long… Hard… Talk about their proclivities, before handing them over to the authorities.

Before Brock could press her for more details, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the yard. Flint arrived, his massive frame easily visible as he approached. His Onix slithered behind him, its rocky segments scraping the ground. Flint's face was a mixture of concern and annoyance as he took in the scene - Team Rocket grunts tied up, their Pokemon beaten and cowed, and Brock and Karen standing over them.

"Right, what've we got here?" Flint rumbled, eyeing the grunts with disdain. He bent down and, with one hand, lifted all three effortlessly by their collars, ignoring their protests. "You three idiots must've hit your heads to think you could pull a stunt like this in my town." He rumbled.

Karen crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "Something's off about them. Their uniforms aren't right. I think they're copycats, or a false flag of some sort."

Flint grunted, his expression hardening as he glanced at the fake Team Rocket uniforms. "Huh. Figures. Real Rocket grunts would've put up more of a fight I suspect, my son isn't used to fighting anyone worth a damn, so the fact these guys were taken down says a lot." He shook the grunts slightly, making them squirm. "I'll get them over to the police. We'll get answers, even if I have to let Onix roll over 'em a few times."

Without waiting for a response, Flint marched off, still holding the grunts like they weighed nothing, while Onix slithered behind him with an eerie hiss.

Karen eyed him suspiciously, that had been off too. He hadn't really seemed that surprised about any of it. More annoyed than anything. She had also noted with distaste that he'd gotten another dig in on Brock again.

As Flint disappeared into the distance, Karen and Brock exchanged a look, confusion hanging in the air for one of them, the other more suspicious.

"What the hell was that?" Karen muttered at Brock, shaking her head. "Did it strike you as at all odd?"

Brock let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "No idea, but something tells me this isn't over." He paused, then added with a frown, "Copycats or not, it's weird they'd come here. Makes you wonder what they were really after."

Karen glanced back at the Pokemon still roaming the yard, her mind spinning. "Yeah. Too bad Flint didn't seem all that concerned." She shrugged. "Guess we'll find out soon enough." She added darkly.

Maybe she was too paranoid, but she definitely didn't like how fake this whole situation had seemed.

They stood in silence for a moment before Brock finally spoke. "Well, we should finish feeding the Pokemon. Ezra will want to know about this when he gets back."

Karen groaned, "Ugh, of course he's gone for the actual work, and I bet he'll complain about it all too, the jerk."

"That doesn't sound like him." Brock said loyally.

"Both of you having a dick doesn't mean you automatically have to take his side, you know." Karen snarked.

"I'm going to tell Ezra you mentioned his dick." Brock said, with an angelic smile, as Karen gaped at him in shock.

"Brock, I was only kidding… Come on…"

"Brock!"

"You're joking, right!?"

Later that day, a few hours from Pewter.

Ezra had decided to take the scenic route back to Pewter, deliberately walking along the winding forest paths to encounter a few trainers. His usual mode of travel was faster, and while convenient, it lacked the opportunity for the one thing he desperately needed right now - training for his newer, lower 'leveled' Pokemon. Morrigan, Alduin, Dusclops, and Mimikyu needed experience amongst others, and the best way to get that was through battles. Idiot trainers lined the roads around here, which would provide the perfect opportunity.

It didn't take long before he found his first victim. Or should he say the victim found him first?

A loud, shrill voice broke through the quiet forest. "Hey, you!" A kid in the most ridiculous bug-catching uniform Ezra had ever seen - complete with oversized net and a hat far too big for his head - ran toward him. "You can't pass here without facing the mighty Bug Pokemon!" He screeched, waving his net dramatically.

Ezra stared at the boy, unamused but curious about what this 'mighty' team could consist of. Bug trainers were usually pushovers unless they had something worth a challenge, like a Scyther at the very minimum. But this kid… The net, the overenthusiasm, the weirdness... It was a bad sign. Still, he had to battle, get some experience in for his less blooded 'mon.

He couldn't just go from gym challenge to gym challenge. Not all his Pokemon could handle that level right now, especially as he was going for star challenges instead of a regular gym bout.

"Alright, I'll accept your challenge." Ezra said coolly, reaching for one of his Pokeballs. He called out Alduin, his Deino, who emerged with a bark of excitement. The dark/dragon type wriggled happily, clearly ready for some action.

"Emperor god-king Metapod, I choose you!" The kid yelled triumphantly.

Ezra stared. A Metapod materialized on the battlefield - a green cocoon-like creature that just... Sat there. Alduin's excitement visibly deflated as he gazed at the immobile bug.

"Kid…" Ezra began, his voice laced with pity. "Do you have anything better?"

At this level, his Pokemon couldn't even get anything close to a challenge, even his weakest Pokemon would chew this thing up like a chew toy. Did it even know anything except Harden?

"Nothing is better than Bug Pokemon!" The boy roared, thrusting his net into the air with passion. "Emperor god-king supreme overlord Metapod, goooooo!"

Did he just add another title? I almost want to just walk away in embarrassment, Ezra thought.

Eventually, he just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I mean… Do you have a Scyther or something? Or at least a bug that can, you know… Move?"

The kid glared at him, insulted. "Metapod, Harden!" He then gave Ezra a smug look, like he'd actually accomplished something of a victory.

Ezra raised an eyebrow as the Metapod's body shimmered briefly, hardening its shell. "You're kidding me." He looked at Alduin, who whined in disappointment, eyes narrowing at the still cocoon.

"Alright, Alduin," Ezra said with a half-hearted sigh. "Dragon Rage. Let's get this over with."

Alduin barked happily, energy building in his mouth before he launched it toward the Metapod in a cascade of dragon flames. The cocoon Pokemon didn't stand a chance. The blast sent it skidding across the dirt, hitting a tree trunk with a dull thud, fainted on impact.

The kid grit his teeth, returning the fallen Metapod with a frustrated huff. "You think that's all I've got? Metapod, go!"

Another Metapod emerged from his Pokeball.

Ezra groaned. "Seriously?" Alduin let out an annoyed growl, eyeing the new Metapod with growing irritation.

"Harden, Metapod!" The kid ordered with the same enthusiasm.

Ezra had to fight the urge to facepalm. "Dragon Rage again, Alduin. Finish this." Did he happen to run into the only trainer with a mental deficiency around here?

Another blast of dragon energy. Another Metapod fainted. At least Alduin got to practice his move in a live battle… He supposed.

The boy continued sending out Metapod after Metapod, each one ordered to use Harden, and each one being obliterated by Alduin's increasingly aggressive Dragon Rage. By the time the sixth Metapod hit the ground, Ezra was just done with the whole affair.

Alduin stood proudly, though Ezra noticed the gleam of dissatisfaction in his dragon's eyes. Six Metapods hadn't exactly made for thrilling combat. But still, Alduin was proud to have won so clearly.

"Good… Fight." Ezra forced a smile as the bug catcher begrudgingly handed over his prize money, muttering about how his strategy always worked before. How did it ever work? Ezra couldn't help but wonder as he pocketed the money.

His mind flashed to two trainers just shouting Harden as their Metapods stood there, until one grew bored and left. To be fair… That strategy did have a chance to work - Ezra had almost walked away midway through.

Before Ezra could walk away, a voice piped up from the sidelines.

"Hey! You! I want a battle too!" A girl, who had been watching the entire fight, stormed over to Ezra with her fists clenched, her face flushed with determination.

Ezra sighed again, but nodded. "Fine. Let's do this." It couldn't be worse, at least.

He released Mimikyu this time, the little ghost-fairy Pokemon appearing with its familiar Pikachu disguise. The girl's eyes widened in shock and then horror.

"What's wrong with that Pikachu!?" She shrieked, flailing her hands. "Are you starving it, you monster!?"

Ezra's face twitched in annoyance. "It's not a Pikachu… Just send out your Pokemon."

The girl glared at him, holding her Pokeball close to her chest like she was about to unleash something incredible. "Show that poor Pikachu who's boss!" She whispered dramatically to the ball before tossing it forward.

The light faded, and another Metapod appeared.

Ezra groaned, rubbing his temples. "Oh, come on…" This had to be a joke, Karen actually followed him and put these people up to this. It had to be!

"Don't look down on me!" The girl shot back angrily. "The power of Bug Pokemon can beat anything!"

Ezra's expression deadened. "You better not have any more Metapods after this one," He muttered darkly. "Mimikyu, take it out."

Mimikyu, who had been hopping up and down curiously, looked at the Metapod in confusion. With a quick, disinterested Wood Hammer, it knocked the Metapod out cold.

The girl returned her fallen Pokemon, glaring at Ezra as she pulled out another Pokeball. "Metapod, go!"

Ezra couldn't take it anymore. He called Mimikyu back and released Annihilape, whose ghostly form appeared with a growl, fists clenched and ready to smash something.

Ezra smirked darkly, looking at his Annihilape. "Scare them so badly no one with a Metapod will go near me for the next few miles," He ordered.

Annihilape let out a blood-curdling roar, slamming his fists into the ground, cracking the earth beneath him. The girl and her Metapod both froze, eyes wide with terror. The next few moments were a blur of chaos - Metapod fainting instantly, the girl stumbling backward in fear, and the rest of her team (more Metapods) running for their lives.

Ezra watched the girl flee in tears, shaking his head in disbelief. "Idiots."

Later, as he strolled down the path, Ezra was stopped by a Pokemon Ranger who handed him a fine for "Unnecessary intimidation of inexperienced trainers."

Ezra glanced at the ticket, smirked, and shrugged. "Worth it."

He slaughtered the trainers down the route for the next few hours. Figuratively of course. His Pokemon getting some great practice.

Strangely, no bug trainers approached him again for some reason.

Cinnabar island, Kanto.

Cecile peered at the weathered wooden sign in front of him, its faded letters clearly reading 'Cinnabar Island.' His brow furrowed in confusion, his fingers pushing up his crooked glasses as he scratched his head.

"This... Isn't Pewter." He muttered to himself, staring hard at the sign as if he could somehow will it to change.

His mind spun as he retraced his steps. He'd done everything right, hadn't he? First, he'd taken the train to the coast, which had been a miserable experience. He'd spent most of the journey pressed against the window, turning green with motion sickness while clutching his bag like it was the only thing tethering him to sanity. After that, he'd gotten on the boat to Kanto, where - surprise, surprise - he'd gotten sick the entire way again.

But once the boat docked, he'd made what he thought was a sound decision. He wasn't about to subject himself to any more motion sickness, so he'd decided to walk the rest of the way to Pewter City. It couldn't be that far, right? He'd stick to the roads, avoid any wild Pokemon, and get there in no time.

And yet… Here he was, staring at a sign telling him that he was on Cinnabar Island.

He tapped his chin, deep in thought. "Pewter is supposed to be up north. Did the city move? No, that can't be right." He turned slowly, eyes scanning the surroundings. The soft roar of the ocean waves reached his ears, and the salty breeze ruffled his messy brown hair. The island seemed quiet, peaceful even, with fishermen dotting the docks and a few tourists milling about in the distance.

Cecile groaned softly, his memory finally jogging. "Wait... I did take a nap in that vegetable cart. That's probably how I ended up here!" His eyes narrowed at the thought. "That dastardly vegetable wagon must've brought me all the way to Cinnabar! Pewter was so close, and now -" He glanced at the endless water surrounding the island. "I need to find another vegetable cart to get back."

He spun around in place, trying to figure out which way was north. "Pewter's to the north, right? North is… That way!" He pointed confidently in a random direction toward the water. "And then east is over there… And west is next to that, and south is… The opposite of north." His voice trailed off, his eyes filled with a mix of confidence and confusion.

A nearby fisherman, who had been watching Cecile's entire monologue with growing bewilderment, finally stepped forward. He couldn't just stand by and let this kid keep spinning in circles.

"Sonny," The old man said, his voice rough like gravel, "That's not how directions work."

Cecile blinked and turned to the fisherman, studying him curiously. "Are you sure? I'm a programmer. I'm very good at math," He said with absolute certainty, as if that cleared everything up.

The fisherman stared at him, utterly baffled. "Directions ain't math, lad." He scratched his grizzled chin, eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to figure out if this kid was messing with him.

Cecile, undeterred, nodded to himself. "North it is." And with that, he confidently began walking toward the south end of the island, where the shimmering ocean stretched endlessly into the horizon.

The fisherman watched in stunned silence as the young man headed straight for the sea. Shaking his head, the old man muttered under his breath, "Well, it's an island. He'll figure it out eventually, I guess." He shrugged and returned to his fishing, deciding it wasn't worth the effort to explain things further.

Cecile continued down the path, humming softly to himself as he walked. His mind, as always, was already moving on to the next topic - perhaps how he could optimize a certain algorithm or finally finish that puzzle game he'd been working on. As long as he kept walking, he figured, he'd reach Pewter City eventually. Whether it was north, south, east, or west didn't really matter, did it?

The cool breeze off the ocean swept across his face, and despite his confusion, Cecile couldn't help but smile. The sun was warm, the day was calm, and, in his own meandering way, he was getting where he needed to go.

At least… That's what he told himself.

Really, as long as he kept going north it would all be alright, surely?

…

The next day, late at night.

Cecile stared at the sign declaring him to have arrived in Fuchsia city. "This isn't Pewter either, but I went north, I'm sure of it, there's only one north… Right?"