Caitlin was anxious, her heart racing as she anxiously scanned the surroundings.
"Thita~?"
On the other hand, her Gothita seemed intrigued by Absol. The little Psychic-type tiptoed closer, her large eyes sparkling with curiosity as she gazed up at the intimidating figure of Absol.
"Gothita...!" Caitlin gasped, shocked by her Pokémon's boldness.
She quickly called out to Gothita in a hushed voice, hoping to stop her from getting too close. Before Caitlin could intervene, though, Absol, who had been resting calmly, suddenly stiffened.
It seemed to notice something in the air. With a single, graceful movement, Absol turned to face Caitlin and Gothita.
It paused for a moment, looking at them both with its piercing eyes, and then, as if acknowledging them, it bowed slightly. Then, in a swift, fluid motion, Absol leaped into the air, disappearing into the woods with such speed that Caitlin could barely process what had happened.
"Eh?" she murmured, still processing it.
Before she could collect her thoughts, the hum of an electric motor cut through the silence of the forest. She turned toward the sound, and her eyes immediately lit up with recognition.
"Caitlin! What are you doing here?!" her father's voice rang out, laced with both concern and frustration.
Thankfully, there was a tracking application on her phone, which allowed him to track her down. Previously, he had asked her to go to a friend's house to wait for him, thinking it was probably Cynthia's. However, when he arrived at her house, he was shocked to find that Caitlin wasn't there.
He quickly tracked her down and found her here. Now, standing in front of her, he looked both relieved and angry. "Where have you been?" he scolded her.
Caitlin hurried toward him, her eyes wide, her breath quickening with the weight of what had just happened. She pointed in the direction where Absol had vanished, her voice urgent. "Papa, Allen was kidnapped by Absol!!!"
"..."
Although he was pleased with the 'Papa,' a person's life still comes first.
Back to the Valley of the End—I mean, the cave.
Allen wasn't sure what to call it—illegal excavation, unlawful digging, cultural property theft, or archaeological vandalism? Whatever.
But these people wore typical lab coats and were directing others to dig in a secluded area deep inside the cave. They could have been scientists, researchers, or archaeologists—whatever they were, they didn't belong here.
'How the hell did they find this place? Even the people in Celestic Town don't know about it,' Allen thought.
Not only that, there were men with rough appearances wearing black uniforms—like some kind of secret organization. They looked like the kind of people you wouldn't want following you into a dark alley. If Allen had to guess, they were probably security guards or contracted mercenary?
'Team Rocket? No. Galactic? Also no.'
Two of the rough men soon passed the spot where he was hiding. Both men had Pokéballs attached to their belts, but neither had released a Pokémon.
He and Absol quickly retreated deeper into the rocks, their eyes locked ahead.
"Hey, wait a moment, I need to take a piss," one of the men muttered.
"Hurry up," the other responded.
At first, Allen thought they were just having casual small talk, but the next part of their conversation caught his attention and this made him fully engaged.
"Say, how much do you think the egg is worth?"
'Eggs? Pokémon eggs?'
"Dumbass!" the other snapped and loud SLAP that Allen could almost visualize the scene in his mind.
"Do you have any idea what you're saying? I'm not risking my life over your stupidity!" the other continued.
Allen pressed himself flat against the rough wall, straining to hear more.
Soon there was silence before the conversation continued.
"It's a hot potato," the man continued. "After the egg was excavated, it'll be sold directly. I heard there's already a buyer, a collector. We're lucky this time—the conservation area just got renovated, and security was weak."
Allen absorbed every word, piecing together the details: a conservation area, weak security, and Pokémon eggs. It seemed they had gotten their hands on something valuable—and dangerous.
Soon, two men moved closer to his hiding spot. Absol, sensing the danger of staying too close, slowly began to retreat. With a swift jump, the Pokémon vanished into the shadows while Allen remained perfectly still, pressing himself tighter against the wall, careful not to make any suspicious noises.
"Do you know what Pokémon it is?" one man asked.
"What Pokémon?" the other snorted. "They say it's an antique. You know what that means? Probably a hundred or a hundred of thousand years old, and it's still in egg form. Probably dead anyway. That's why it's totally a waste of time to smuggle the eggs."
Allen frowned, processing the new information. The conversation fell silent for a moment before a low groan broke the stillness, followed by another groan.
"What the fuck?!" Allen almost spat, before hastily covering his mouth with his hand.
He was disgusted and wanted to leave slowly, but he dismissed the idea as the conversation resumed.
"That guy must be losing it right now. I'd say seeing the Elite Four completely snap like that... it was worth the risk of death," one man suddenly said, and Allen's eyes widened at the mention of the Elite Four.
SCRAPE, SCRAPE.
Soon, the conversation fell silent, replaced by another sound—subtle, yet distinct enough to catch Allen's attention.
His curiosity piqued, he craned his neck to get a better look at what the men were doing and his eyes widened in realization. It seemed they were digging for something.
'Crates?' So the whole "pissing" excuse... Ah, but the smell though, 'Whatever', he thought.
Were they actually here to bury crates?
His curiosity got the better of him, and he cautiously shifted his position to get closer. Sure enough, they were tossing something that made a clinking sound.
Bingo. These two were officially the worst of the worst.
Not only criminals, but traitors—smuggling goods from their own criminal group. What did the mafia say? "The ones who deserve a slow, dramatic death..."
The conversation resumed, punctuated by quiet laughter and the rhythmic sound of shovels hitting the earth. After a brief flurry of digging and tossing, the men paused. With deliberate movements, they covered the hole with dirt once again.
Soon, after the two men left, Allen finally felt it was safe to move. He turned toward the direction where Absol had vanished, knowing the Pokémon was likely watching from a distance. He didn't make a fuss about it.
Allen quickly scanned his surroundings—glancing left, right, above, and below—determined to commit every detail to memory. He mentally took note of everything, making sure he wouldn't forget this place.
After making sure there was no one around and the area was clear, he tiptoed to the spot they had dug before kneeling beside it. He began to sift through the loose soil with his hands. As he dug, his fingers brushed against something solid.
"Oh, this is it."
He cleared away more soil, revealing a wooden crate. Judging by its condition, it was clear they had been at this for a while.
The wood of the crate was mossy and worn, soft enough for him to pry it open. He carefully peeled away a bit of the worn wood from each crate, just large enough to peek inside.
"Oh, a Pokéball!"
Through the gap, he could barely make out what was inside—dozens of empty Pokéballs, along with items that resembled potions and elixir bottles like those in the game, and a few unfamiliar objects.
At that moment, he truly felt grateful to be just six years old. It was the only reason his small hand could fit into the hole.
He briefly considered checking the other crates but decided against it, opting to take the Pokéball.
"Hehehe," Allen licked his lips, thinking he'd finally get his first Pokéball.
As for the advice? He couldn't care less.
Everyone knows about selective breeding, which is why, from the very beginning, kids are taught about Pokémon and are warned, "Don't catch wild Pokémon as your starter."
The reason is simple: You can't check the potential of that Pokémon.
Typically, people choose Pokémon from breeding farms. These facilities offer a wide variety of options and often provide higher-quality baby Pokémon due to their selective breeding processes.
The quality of Pokémon achieved through selective breeding is typically categorized as follows:
Bottom Tier → Low Tier → Mid Tier → High Tier → Top Tier → Select Tier.
Starter Pokémon are important because, from there, you can decide whether to focus on one type or train multiple types of Pokémon.
The type of starter you choose will also influence the kind of training and approach you take with your Pokémon. This choice can affect how you build your team and approach battles. That's why you should not catch your starter as a wild Pokémon.
Especially for those aspiring to go pro, now is the time to lay the groundwork for a strong Pokémon team. This requires thorough planning, strategic thinking, and, of course, the money to support and sustain a well-rounded team of six.
Trainers are mostly limited to carrying only six Pokémon at most times. Originally, there was no restriction, and people could carry as many Pokémon as they could handle. However, the Pokémon League later introduced a rule capping the number of Pokémon allowed in official battles and tournaments to six.
As a result, this limitation has influenced everyone, especially professional Trainers who focus on developing and refining their primary six. For example, Pokebelts sold at Poke Marts are limited to six slots, which is why it's common to see Trainers and aspiring pros carrying only six Pokémon on their belts.
Of course, carrying a belt with six slots doesn't mean Trainers are restricted to owning only six Pokémon. Some elite Trainers take it a step further by managing two separate squads of six, allowing them to switch teams based on their opponent or the situation. Only those loaded with money have the resources and flexibility to manage more than six Pokémon effectively.
"Hah, there are no weak Pokémon, only weak trainers!" Allen snorted.
Once he was sure the coast was clear, Allen exhaled in relief, thankful that no one had spotted him. He then returned the dirt to its original state, covering the hole just like before.
Quietly, he followed the trail, moving as silently as possible. After a short while, he finally found what he had been looking for.
They had set up a large tent, more like a typical festival tent—the kind artists use to wait before performing. The tent was positioned precisely near the river, adding an eerie touch, almost like a small villain's lair.
He began to regret not bringing his phone everywhere like Caitlin usually did. He thought, 'Celestic Town has terrible signal anyway—what's the point? And seriously, what kind of kindergartner carries a phone around?'
"How much longer do we have to wait?!"
A loud shout echoed, and Allen froze, quickly ducking down and pressing himself against the nearby boulder. It seemed like things were about to get dramatic.
A man stepped out of the tent and started pacing in front of it, looking clearly agitated. "We can't stay here much longer! The dam will collapse soon, and if that happens, we're not making it out alive!"
Allen's eyes widened. 'It was because of them!'
Another man stepped out from the tent, casually eating what appeared to be a sandwich. This one seemed far more relaxed, completely different from the first. However, when Allen saw him, his eyes nearly popped out.
Military!
The guy was wearing a military uniform, and even his Pokébelt resembled a holster. A small star insignia was emblazoned on his chest. The star insignia signified a high rank, one that should come with prestige and significant compensation.
That might explain how they managed to track this place down. Allen squinted, focusing all his attention, before reading the words "Ranger Corps" stitched on it.
"This... Motherfucker... is a Pokémon Ranger?" Allen whispered in shock.