Chapter 2: Payment
The lone trainer waited in the reception area. He sat down on one of the well-worn chairs. Although it'd seen better days, the chair didn't break as the young man sat down. He wondered how someone could obtain furniture in such good condition. Most of the stuff he usually came across had been broken and abused over many years.
After making the getaway from the abandoned Pokémon Centre, the lone trainer found an old bus shelter, where he carefully the healing balm on his Sandshrew – a Pokémon he'd had since he was little. The two had weathered the wasteland together for many years. The Sandshrew was unusual since it had a rare mutation that gave the Pokémon poisonous glands at the tip of its claws. Throughout his time in the wasteland, the young man had never come across a Sandshrew with the same mutation.
"Mr Dante is ready to meet you," a henchman said, entering the reception area. "I hope you have the payload."
"You wouldn't believe what I'd to go through to get this."
"Don't flatter me with your ordeals," the henchman responded. "We pay you to find the goods; not to complain."
"Sorry," the lone trainer apologised. "It just… never mind."
The lone trainer followed the henchman into another room. Before the bombs, the building was originally some rich man's mansion, who collected numerous paintings of Pokémon. Mr Dante was inspecting one such painting. He turned around to face them. The man wore a fancy suit and tie, although the fabric's colouring had long faded.
"Here's what you asked me to get," the lone trainer said, placing the Pokéball on the table.
"Ah… a Ditto. From the Kanto region," the older gentlemen said. "Back in the day, these were highly valued. You know why?"
"I'm not here to ask questions," the lone trainer answered.
The man laughed. "Such the mercenary type," he remarked. "I presume you want payment?"
The lone trainer nodded.
"Jimmy," Mr Dante instructed one of his henchmen, "give our friend here the package."
The henchman walked over to collect a duffel bag. He placed it next to the lone trainer. The young man quickly unzipped the bag. He looked quickly and glanced inside, making sure he'd been given the right stuff.
"No need to worry," Mr Dante reassured. "Five thousand caps as promised. And the medication. May I ask who it's for?"
"No," the lone trainer said simply.
"Fine… fine…" the older gentlemen continued. "While you're here, you should place a bet or so on today's brawl. Might win a few more caps. You never know, you might need it."
"I might as well," the lone trainer said. He wasn't in a rush or anything.
The lone trainer followed Jimmy downstairs, and then outside. The henchman gave the young man instruction. He'd been here before, a year ago. But the next built structures that had risen around the settlement made it difficult for the lone trainer to get his bearings. Working out where exactly to go, the young man his way to the battle arena – built in an old subway station.
The young man placed a bet, before taking a seat to look down at the arena.
"Coming in on the left is Scyther the Rocky Knight!" the announcer's voice boomed. "The undefeated champion; he's won twenty battles this year!"
The crowd cheered as the Scyther entered the arena. As a form of intimidation, the Pokémon sharpened its rock-covered scythes.
"And on the right, it's Lycanroc!" the announcer continued to boom. "A newcomer to the ring, she's already taken out three opponents! But after last week's humiliating defeat can she bounce back?"
"So, who did you bet on?" the man beside the lone trainer asked. The henchman probably knew ins and outs of what was going on behind the scenes. But the lone trainer could sense an upset.
"My money's on Lycanroc."
"No way," the man laughed. "The Rocky Knight's been undefeated. You've wasted your caps."
We'll see, the lone trainer thought to himself. He was usually spot on when it came to type-effectiveness. For the rest of the battle, the lone trainer remained silent, making not even a peep of noise. He remained wholly transfixed on the scuffle occurring before him.
The Scyther prepared itself for an offensive strike, pulling its large rock-covered scythes in a crosswise stance. Lycanroc growled intensely, as the prickle of its ice-like fur shot up like spikes. The wolf-like Pokémon took the first strike, charging headfirst at the Scyther, hoping its sudden movement would throw its opponent off guard. The Scyther slid left with ease, before taking one forceful swipe at the Lycanroc. Although a weaker Pokémon would've been slammed against the concrete wall of the arena, the Lycanroc was able to withstand most of the attack. The Lycanroc barely moved, nor made a flinch. The Scyther took another strike this time an uppercut. This time the Pokémon was able hit its opponent, causing the Lycanroc to fall back. The Pokemon was thrown across the arena; its body slamming against the concrete wall.
As the Lycanroc got back on its hind legs, a visible crater could be seen where the Pokémon had impacted the wall. The Lycanroc growled again, this time with far more aggression. The Scyther returned to a defensive stance, waiting patiently for the next attack. The Lycanroc didn't wait long to counter, throwing itself at the Scyther. This reckless move gave the Scyther the chance to slam its opponent against the wall. This time the Lycanroc didn't get back up. The Scyther moved forward to perform the killer blow. It lifted its right scythes, readying itself to slam down onto the Lycanroc's head. Just as he was about to attack, the Lycanroc open its eyes. The Pokémon began to feel a tingling sensation in its claws. Its rare mutation came to life. With pin strike precision, the Lycanroc gouged its sharp ice claws into the Scyther's body. Shrieking in pain, the bug-ground Pokémon backed away. Stunned; it didn't move. The Lycanroc now had the chance to do the killer blow, taking another swipe this time at the Scyther's neck. The Scyther began to chock as it fell to the ground.
"Scyther the Rocky Knight's reign of terror has ended spectacularly!" the announcer yelled with excitement. "Who would've thought he'd fall to an unknown Lycanroc! What should we dub our new champion? Perhaps the Ice Golem!"
The audience screamed with approval.
"Seems like I'm in for a profit," the lone trainer said, smiling somewhat. "One to 25 odds. Not bad for a few caps."
"Brag all you like," the henchman remarked. "We can't all be lucky all the time."
"Not the waste," the lone trainer responded. "You can't rely on luck in the wasteland."
The henchman didn't reply.
"I guess I'll be off then," the lone trainer announced.
Before the henchman could respond, the lone trainer had left. Barely anyone had noticed the young man leave the settlement. It was always best that way. The fewer people knew his whereabouts the better. The lone trainer allowed his Sandshrew out of its Pokéball. Not only was the Pokémon there to keep him company, but it also served as protection against any attackers. With one deep breath, the young man wandered into the wasteland.