Chương 37: Honest Work

The Kanto Hunter Guild did not accept Rine's signature. The contract terminal flashed red when he pressed his thumb to the reader. Applicant restriction: provisional Trainer. Applicant restriction: protected witness. Applicant restriction: unresolved criminal review. Independent contract authority denied.

"Efficient," Rine said. Orson Vale leaned against the board.

"It usually takes a committee to insult someone that thoroughly." The Cerulean Guild office occupied the second floor of a converted ferry station. Trophy heads were forbidden, but old capture devices, broken poacher traps, and photographs of recovered Pokémon covered the walls. Hunters drank coffee beneath a board listing missing people, escaped criminals, dangerous wild territories, and warrants issued by League courts. Not every bounty requested a body. Most did not. That surprised Rine.

Captain Jo Lark emerged from an office with Noctowl gliding silently behind her.

"You cannot hold the Clefairy contract," she said.

"The terminal mentioned it."

"You may join Vale as a licensed civilian specialist. Your authority extends to tracking, Pokémon care, evidence preservation, and defense of life."

"Arrest?"

"Vale's authority."

"Lethal force?"

"Only against an immediate threat of death, judged afterward by people who were not there and will believe the situation should have been tidier." Rine appreciated the honesty. Lark placed a paper contract before him. Paper could not be remotely altered, wiped, or used to lock a Poké Ball. He read all six pages. Payment was one thousand Poké Dollars upon recovery of the missing Clefairy, plus documented expenses. Captured traffickers carried separate League warrants.

Any Moon Stones remained protected resources and could not be removed. Injured wild Pokémon belonged to themselves, not the person providing treatment. The final clause prohibited participants from claiming rescued Pokémon during the operation.

"That rule exists because hunters used rescue as a capture strategy," Vale said.

"People needed a rule?"

"People usually need a rule after someone proves they do." Rine signed as civilian specialist. For the first time, someone paid him to help without asking him to hurt an innocent person. The distinction should not have felt momentous. It did. They spent the afternoon preparing. Vale carried two Poké Balls, a field restraint kit, medical supplies, climbing equipment, and a compact flare launcher. Kecleon rode invisibly across his pack, betrayed only by the occasional distortion around one eye.

Rine packed Veyra's grounding mat, rhythm regulator, Gastly's spectral salts, water, food, and three times the gauze he expected to need.

"You always carry that much medical gear?" Vale asked.

"No."

"Learning?"

"Trying." Veyra remained medically barred from formal battle for three more days. The contract permitted tracking before then, but Rine would withdraw if the traffickers were located early. Vale accepted the condition. Team Rocket would have called it announcing weakness. Professional allies called it operational planning. They left Cerulean through the western gate at dawn. Route Four followed the foot of the mountains before disappearing into Mt. Moon.

The modern road carried tourist buses, mining transports, and Trainers heading between Pewter and Cerulean. Rangers maintained avalanche barriers above the busiest sections. Wild Pokémon lived around all of it. Spearow nested on telephone structures despite deterrent spikes. Rattata used drainage culverts as tunnels. Sandshrew burrowed where construction loosened the soil, forcing road crews to scan before driving support posts. Veyra smelled each trail.

Her pack instincts gave scent a structure Rine could not perceive. She distinguished old from new, fear from hunting, domestic Pokémon from wild. When Vale offered cloth carrying Clefairy fur recovered from a cut fence, she inhaled once and turned west.

"That clear?" he asked. Rine watched her posture.

"She has something." Veyra moved along the road shoulder, stopping where a shallow stream passed beneath a stone bridge. She barked twice. Gastly entered the culvert. He returned carrying a rusted wire loop. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. The snare had been disguised beneath water plants. Pink-gray fur clung to one twist. Rine identified the residue.

Clefairy fur Trace compound: soporific resin; powdered Chesto Berry inhibitor Time since contact: approximately thirty-six hours"Chesto inhibitor keeps them from waking," he said. Vale bagged the snare.

"Expensive."

"Professional traffickers."

"Or well-funded amateurs." The distinction mattered. Professionals protected routes and buyers. Amateurs made unpredictable mistakes. They found the next sign two kilometers west. A patch of grass had been burned in a perfect circle. No wildfire spread. No lightning scar marked the center. Veyra sniffed and sneezed.

"Fire move," Rine said.

"Low heat, broad edge." Vale released a second Pokémon. A Fletchinder emerged, shook copper-red wings, and examined the burn. Its flame sac pulsed as it tasted the air. Fletchinder — Female Level: 22 Potential: Green — Uncommon Ability: Flame Body Condition: healthy Disposition: focused; protective of Vale"Cinder says Incinerate," Vale said. Rine looked at him.

"Patterns, not language." Apparently every specialist used the same disclaimer. The fire had destroyed scent in the clearing, but not beyond it. Veyra circled until she found a trail climbing away from the road. The traffickers had left the protected route. Vale notified the Guild and marked their turn.

"From here, no tourist patrols," he said.

"Wild encounters become more likely."

"Veyra is not cleared for battle."

"Cinder and Kecleon take first response." Rine disliked depending on someone else. That was not a reason to refuse. The trail rose through scrub and exposed stone. Mt. Moon dominated the sky ahead, pale cliffs catching sunlight above dark cave mouths. Radio towers stood on two lower ridges, but terrain already weakened the signal. At noon, they found a Paras caught beneath a collapsed cage. The small orange Pokémon lay on its side. One mushroom had split. Its legs scraped weakly against stone.

Veyra approached, then stopped at Rine's warning. Paras spores could cause sleep or paralysis depending on maturity. The fungal growth on its back was not decoration; it shaped much of the Pokémon's behavior and health. Identify opened.

Paras — Female Level: 9 Type: Bug / Grass Ability: Effect Spore Condition: fractured right foreleg; fungal cap damage; dehydration Current Potential: Gray — degraded Innate Potential: White — Common Recovery window before permanent decline: 16–22 hours The cage bore dried Clefairy fur.

"Discarded bait?" Vale asked.

"Or a witness."

"Pokémon don't testify."

"They remember." Kecleon lifted one side of the cage while Rine slid a tarp beneath Paras. The Pokémon released a weak cloud of spores. Gastly absorbed most before it reached them and immediately looked ill.

"Do not eat unidentified poison," Rine said. Gastly coughed purple rings. Rine stabilized the leg and used water to clean the damaged mushroom without tearing living tissue. Vale contacted a Ranger air team, but wind near the ridge prevented immediate pickup. They constructed shade and left a beacon. Rine placed an Oran paste near Paras's mouth. She did not eat until they moved away.

"One hour lost," Vale said. Rine looked at him.

"I'm recording it as necessary care," the hunter continued.

"Not criticizing."

"I know." He was learning how often he prepared for attacks that did not come. The trail ended at an abandoned service entrance on Mt. Moon's eastern face. League signs warned: PROTECTED HABITAT NO MINING NO UNSUPERVISED CAPTURE CLEFAIRY COLONY — LIGHT AND SOUND RESTRICTIONS The lock had been cut and replaced to appear intact. Vale photographed it. Rine touched the metal. Identify showed abrasion, oil, and a thin violet residue.

Move trace: Acid Probable user: Poison type Age: 29–35 hours Zubat, Ekans, Grimer, or something less common. Rine remembered Team Rocket's preferred species. The mountain entrance breathed cold air. Gastly stared into it with open delight. Veyra's fur rose. Ground and Rock energies saturated the stone, not as attacks but as an environment that made her Electric core contract. Rine fitted the medical vest more securely.

"We can stop," he told her. She placed one paw beyond the threshold. Her self-call echoed into Mt. Moon. Far below, something answered with a song. Vale did not let them enter immediately. They established a camp outside the service door, documented the intact false lock, and waited for the Ranger weather report. Mountain wind prevented aerial support until morning. A ground team could approach from Cerulean in three hours if called before the eastern tunnels blocked communication.

"Knowing rescue time changes which risks are reasonable," Vale said. Rine wrote the estimate on the paper map. The hunter noticed.

"You didn't do that at Silph."

"At Silph, I was committing the crime."

"And the orphanage?"

"The clock changed."

"That isn't what I asked." Rine tightened a strap on Veyra's medical kit.

"No. I did not plan for rescue after the objective. I planned extraction and assumed anyone injured would improvise."

"Including you."

"Especially me." Vale fed Kecleon slices of Pecha Berry.

"Guild work has a reputation for solitary heroes. Most dead hunters believed it."

"You work alone."

"I travel alone. I file routes, carry relays, use dispatch, and wait for specialists when I don't know what I'm touching." Rine looked at the service tunnel.

"What happens when waiting is wrong?"

"You make the best decision available and explain it afterward. Professional rules aren't a substitute for judgment. They make you name the moment you depart from it." Accountability again. Rine wondered whether every road out of Team Rocket led through that word. After sunset, Clefairy song moved faintly through the rock. The notes did not resemble human music. They rose and fell beyond ordinary breath, with harmonics that made Gastly's vapor pulse. Veyra listened beside the entrance.

Her pack call received no answer this time. The earlier reply might not have been intended for her. Sound traveled strangely in the mountain. Rine did not convert coincidence into destiny. He still felt watched by the stone. They trained quietly while waiting. Gastly formed Night Shade no larger than Rine's hand, sustaining shape rather than striking. The first became a Zubat with one wing. The second gained both wings and lost its head.

The third looked accurate enough that a real Zubat swooped from the cave and attempted to join it. Gastly was delighted. Veyra practiced scent discrimination. Vale placed cloth samples from Clefairy, Paras, Rattata, and human clothing beneath stones. She identified each without running, then barked location signals for Rine to interpret. He guessed wrong twice. The third time, he recognized the clipped warning attached to human scent.

"Threat?" Veyra touched the correct stone. Pack communication recognition improved. The advancement belonged to Rine rather than Veyra. Identify did not assign it a percentage. Near midnight, he took first watch. Vale slept with one hand near Kecleon's ball. Veyra lay against Rine's hip. Gastly hovered inside the mouth of the cave, drawing strength from darkness without traveling deeper. Rine counted the money remaining in his account.

Medical costs, food, lodging, and transport had reduced the restitution funds faster than he expected. Honest living was expensive. The Guild payment would cover perhaps two weeks if nothing went wrong. Something always went wrong. He considered easy solutions: using Identify to gamble, extorting criminals, stealing from the Game Corner, selling mutation data through a broker he could later rob. Each plan arrived fully formed. Survival had not stopped being criminal simply because his license changed color.

Rine closed the account. Tomorrow, he would earn what the contract promised. If that was not enough, he would find another honest task. Slow progress irritated him. That was not a flaw in it. Before dawn, Vale woke and took the final watch. Rine lay beside Veyra without sleeping immediately. Her three cores pulsed against his aura in an imperfect rhythm: Dark, Fire, Electric, pause. Gastly's inverted presence hovered at their feet. Pack, Veyra's calls had named them.

A group that noticed when one member failed to return. Rine closed his eyes. For once, someone else watched the entrance. Sleep came without surrendering responsibility. That difference followed him into the cave. It felt almost like trust. Perhaps it was.