After breakfast and chores - both made harder by his bruised wrist - Ebgin went off in search of Tairn and Faust. He figured it was a long-shot, but he checked Billows Field first. As he expected, it was empty, so he turned around and made the trek to the town square.

It was a nice surprise to find Mr. Alexander at Kahl's sweets stand. They were chatting loudly and energetically when Ebgin approached.

"Hey, Mr. Alexander! I didn't expect to see you here."

"Expect to see a lot more of me, son," he replied, giving Ebgin a hearty handshake. He seemed much happier than he'd been the day before. "I've set up shop. Oh, and before I forget." Mr. Alexander reached into his pocket and pulled out a gemstone of some kind. "I wanted to thank you for your assistance in our rollicking adventure. Here you are."

Ebgin took it from Alexander's outstretched hand and turned it end-over-end, examining the dark red shade. There seemed to be some lighter, orangeish glow within the cylindrical shape, and the sun reflected against its eight faces.

"That is a genuine firestone," Mr. Alexander said proudly, thumbs hooked in his slacks' pockets. "It'd cost you upward of eight-thousand."

Ebgin was about to protest being given something so expensive: he had his mouth open, but Mr. Alexander put up both hands and shook them dramatically.

"Now, none of that. It's my money and my stone, and now it's yours. Now, run along and show off to your friends." He gave Ebgin a sly grin, his gray mustache tilting to make the expression that much more mischievous.

Ebgin waved to Kahl before going, and then proceeded into the square which was just now beginning to bustle with the noon crowd.

Ebgin admired the firestone. He could have used this on Spark, if he wanted to. Nancy would murder him if he did that, though. Still. . . . Ebgin rubbed the smooth edges, held it to the sun to admire the way light seemed to ignite the inside of it. As he brought it down he noticed a familiar face. One that he had been searching for.

"Faust! I've been looking for you." Ebgin called as he approached, but received no answer. It became apparent a few moments later that Faust was distracted by a pretty girl with long blonde hair. She was looking into a window and stealing glances toward him while he pretended be interested in some books that were on sale in a bin outside the bookshop.

Ebgin looked between the two for a moment, uncertain if they knew each other and were playing some game - which he doubted, but it was possible - or if they were both too scared to talk.

Ebgin tried waiting, but it began to seem as if they were going to be there all day if he didn't say something. "Faust?"

Faust turned about in a meandering sort of way that was typical of him, at least according to what Ebgin had seen of him so far. "Huh? Oh, hey kid. Well, that's odd."

"What's odd?"

"Uh, nothing." Faust turned back to look at the girl, seemed to agonize for a bit about what to do, then he looked at Ebgin and said, "What do you need?"

"Well, I - who's that girl? You keep looking over there."

Faust's response started, then quieted, then tapered out completely. "She's a, just, someone I - forget it."

"What'd you say?" Ebgin stepped closer so he could hear.

"Don't worry about it," Faust said, waving his hand dismissively. "What did you need?"

"Oh, yeah! I need to talk to you and Tairn about something. Where is Tairn, anyway?"

"He's probably at the hotel working on something. What did you need to tell us?" His tone was insistent.

Ebgin was a bit put off by how pushy Faust was being about this. He wanted to tell both of them together, but if that's what Faust wanted, then he might as well tell him. "I have a tip about a gang."

Faust shook his head as if in disbelief. "You've gotta be &#& me!"

Ebgin cringed inwardly and had to prevent one of his legs from taking a fearful step back.

"I can't believe that chick wasn't bull*&#ing us." Faust just stood there musing in shock for a bit while Ebgin tried to process the language he was hearing.

Faust glanced at Ebgin, froze an instant as if realizing something awful, and said,"Sorry about the, uh, cursing."

Ebgin nodded, dumbstruck.

"Well," Faust continued awkwardly, looking embarrassed, "Alright, let's go see Tairn. I know he's gonna wanna gloat about this, that son of a, a-" he let the sentence die unfinished.

Ebgin glanced at the girl he'd been eyeing. "What about her?"

Faust looked at her longingly, drew in a breath, held it as he, it seemed like, must have been strongly considering what to do, and then released the breath in a long sigh, saying, "Forget it."

They left and went to the hotel, a large building near the entrance road.

Ebgin put the firestone in his pocket and forgot all about it as he made his way across the carpeted floor and up the stairs. He needed to convince both Tairn and Faust to join him. He was hopeful, but what if they said no? Then what would he do?

Faust stopped at a wooden door and rapped on it. Ebgin noticed the golden numbers on the door's face, 25.

"Yeah!" Tairn's voice came from inside. Faust opened the door and they went in to find Tairn in the midst of drawing something on a canvas. It couldn't be seen from the doorway though because the easel was facing toward the back of the room.

Tairn peaked around the canvas and his bushy eyebrows went shooting up. "Ah hah! What'd I tell you, Faust?" He grinned slyly and said with a humorously conspiratorial voice, "Ze boy, haz uh-rah-eev-duh!" Then he returned to his drawing.

Ebgin looked at Faust and then Tairn, trying to puzzle together what was going on. He had arrived? What was that supposed to mean? Was he expected? Why would he be?

"Yeah, yeah," Tairn said as he lumbered over to a couch against the left well and threw himself down. "It isn't like you're the one who made the prediction."

"Be that as it may," Tairn replied, becoming more captivated by whatever he was drawing, "Ebgin is here, just like it was foretold."

"Like what was foretold?" Ebgin cut in, frustrated. "Are you two hiding something from me?"

Tairn was not perturbed. He continued his drawing with even more enthusiasm, in fact. "The prophecy!" He exclaimed, now punctuating every word with a flourishing strike of the pencil against his yet hidden picture. "We told her no, but we were fools! Now we'll achieve our goals!"

Ebgin couldn't manage to think of a response, but even if he could have it wasn't likely he would have been able to voice it, because Tairn was now swinging his pencil wildly, smashing the quickly diminishing tip again and again against the helpless canvas. All the while his voice was rising louder and louder.

"Can you imagine my surprise, seeing you enter just now? Prophecies? Rubbish! I doubt the power of even some Pokemon, but here you are. And justice! What justice we shall mete unto our enemies!" His voice peaked to a shrill finale. "And our names shall be known all across this great land, to Kanto and beyond for our heroic deeds!"

So saying, he flung the pencil across the room, where it broke in two against the wall, and fell heavily backward into a chair where he remained motionless except for some heavy breathing.

Ebgin couldn't think of anything to say or do in the aftermath of such an animated display. Should he clap? Leave? Get right to the point?

Before he could manage to put together anything resembling a rational thought, Tairn called from the couch in his typical low, tired-sounding voice, "So tell him about the gang."

"Oh, O.K., right." It took a moment to remember why he was here, and another to remember how to string together words to make sentences. "Well, uh, I know that there is an organization nearby who steal Pokemon, torture them. . . ." Ebgin remembered something Nancy had said. "They probably steal other stuff too. I know someone-" No reason to mention names. "-who was told that if she didn't give something valuable to the organization, then, uh. . . ." Ebgin realized that Nancy had never said specifically what the consequences would be.

"Then what?" Faust pressed.

He was always being pushy! Ebgin didn't know "then what," he wasn't told everything! "Then, well, there might be, you know, a problem."

Tairn stood suddenly after being seemingly comatose for the last minute or two. "Ebgin," He came around his easel and approached. "This is good and all, but, do you have evidence?"

"I saw it myself."

"That doesn't help us, though. We need something concrete to prove that this is happening."

Ebgin felt like he was about to fail to convince them. Evidence? He just figured they believe him. He hadn't prepared anything. Now he started feeling foolish.

"But, wait. Weren't you just talking about, I don't know, justice and fame? What was that about?"

Tairn put a hand on Ebgin's shoulder, looked him in the eye and said with a cocky grin, "Don't worry about it."

Faust snorted loudly from the couch.

"Listen, point is, we need proof. Is there any way you can get it? Here's my PokeGear number."

Ebgin thought about it as he inputted the number into his own PokeGear. "What would be proof?"

"For example," Tairn said, and Ebgin got the sense that he was being deliberately led, the way Tairn elongated his words and looked right at Ebgin as if trying to illustrate something with his eye gestures, "a document? Papers, maybe? Or a computer file?"

Ebgin sharply drew a breath. "Oh! Yes! I think I can get that. Not personally but I think I can get it."

"Great! Then you get that data for us and we'll be happy to take 'em down. We want anything dealing with money, stolen goods, that kind of thing. Especially PC transfers of physical goods. It can all trace us back to the actual point of origin of the crime."

Ebgin nodded, distractedly considering how he could convince Tolby to get this information for him. He barely noticed when he was being ushered out.

Suddenly, drawn from his thoughts by silence, Ebgin realized he was standing alone in the hallway. Those two were odd characters. Ebgin stepped forward and leaned on the railing, overlooking the lobby below, with its red carpets, bright lights and a quiet, polite atmosphere. Ebgin considered.

Tairn and Faust had appeared just a few weeks ago, doing street shows for money. Then he discovers that they're fighters. They must be good fighters, too; not just anyone owned a dragonite. Not only that, but they were gang hunters? A job title that Ebgin secretly believed they had made up, but he was too polite to say so. Anyway, it was convenient enough, but they were acting really weird today.

Tairn and Faust had both acted surprised when he showed up, but not in any kind of normal way. It was like they were waiting for him but didn't believe he'd show up. Put it all together and what did it mean? Ebgin didn't know, but he had the distinct feeling that he was being manipulated. Somehow.

Now, if he could just get Tolby to steal some papers from Wisperal, he'd be all set. That wouldn't necessarily be easy, though. It's not like Tolby was just going to say something completely accommodating, like. . . .