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Chap. 58: Wetworks Training

"What?" Robin asked, genuinely confused. "What do you mean, 'is the Gym Water-type? Of course it is, this is Cerulean City, the City of Lakes and Waterfalls."

"That's what we thought about Pewter, too," Elle grumbled, "We found out from some Team Rocket guy, of all people, that its Gyms were Steel and Flying."

Robin, completely nonplussed, was silent for several seconds before she burst out into laughter that did amazing things for her still-bare chest. "Oh, oh, that's great... Hah, hah! I forgot you'd run into that guy with the giant Golurk. He's the one that broke the news?"

"Yes," Alex muttered darkly, rubbing his shoulder, though any pain there was a phantom at best by now. After the not-too-awkward goodbye of kicking Robin out of their room (where she promptly walked across the hall in the PMC, blew both of them a still-naked kiss with the hand not holding her own backpack, before shutting the door), they had talked for a good hour about the mysterious young woman who had seemed to happy to meet them, and share her life story...

And who, no doubt, still had a great many more secrets she was holding back behind what Alex's suspicious nature told him was definitely a bubbly, perky facade.

But no matter how much they talked while slowly caressing each other, neither could come up with much in the way of answers, or even really get into 'the mood'. In the end, both had agreed that the situation was frustrating for a dozen reasons. Robin just seemed to know too much about them, while all they had on her was her own word that even her life story was real. By her own admission, in fact, most of it wasn't, but a carefully-crafted fabrication, almost like some old twentieth-century pseudo-horror film about sentient AI forcing people to live in dream-worlds.

How could they trust her? What she'd said was so far-fetched, so fantastical.

The game wasn't even a game, but an alternate universe? That she was sent here primarily to just... breed? With everything and everyone she could, of either gender? Finding out that even part of what she'd said was true, that she could change her body (albeit slowly), over a half-hour or more) enough to grow a fairly impressive erection had given Alex a bit of the willies, but intrigued Elle to no end.

Either she had super-powers, or, as Occam's Razor would suggest, she was telling the truth. If Robin was part Ditto, it would explain an awful lot, including how she knew so much about them thanks to her connection with Game Freak. Maline Greengrass had been taking a bit of an unhealthy obsession with them both from the start, they now knew. She'd bribed both of them, tried to seduce both of them (sort of had, in Elle's case), and done everything she could to make them seem special to her in particular and Game Freak. in general... and for what?

They didn't know. Robin didn't, either, or at least she claimed not to. But what could they do about it?

Nothing. Not yet, anyway, except hope the shapeshifting rosette gave up more information, either willingly or by slipping up. Somehow.

Which led them to today. Breakfast, at the Southern Cerulean PMC. Specifically, the cafe built on the roof of the twelve-story-tall structure. The view was near perfect, for everywhere they looked were the rainbow-painted roofs of gorgeous residential neighborhoods with tree-lined streets, wide parks, and further to the north, the taller skyscrapers of the central city itself. Beyond that, morning sunlight glistened off the water of the two lakes, were dozens, maybe over a hundred, boats and ships plied the waters for business or pleasure. Then the towering cliffs and mountainsides, from which the waterfalls that gave the city half its name high overhead, and the azure field capped with a few wispy clouds far overhead.

That, and a question, of course. "Well, yeah, it's Water-type," Robin nodded around her greasy hash-browns. "Well, one Gym. The Waterflowers have been running it for generations, and they'll never not be Water if they have anything to say about it. Which they do. The other Gym's Ice, though."

"Water and Ice together? I suppose that makes more sense than Steel and Flying," Alex muttered, "but still. Are they like... enemies?"

"No," Robin snorted, "At least, not publicly. Now, you didn't hear this from me. I don't know anything officially, and like I said, this isn't as much of a game as you've all been told. But I gather that... well, the current Gym Leader is a bit on the outs with her youngest daughter, who shares her name. The older sisters are poised to take over, and she'd rather they did for their politics, but the younger has, ah... more talent. A lot more, they say. I've heard rumors she can take on all three of her sisters and win ninety-percent of the time. That's how good she's supposed to be. Her Mom, of course, would rather the next Leader is really good... but like I said, they've been on the outs for a while."

"What, is she dating the Ice Leader, or something?"

Robin snorted at Elle's question, "No, her mom is. At least, off and on. Again, it's all rumor, we- well, GF- haven't been able to confirm that much. See, Rocket controls most of Cerulean. Like... badly. They've got a major base here, and they've got fingers in everything. Everything, except what the League controls directly. Even Rocket wouldn't dare take on the Indigo League directly. Dear old Mom isn't exactly on the level, but siding with Rocket is a bit far for her. Her daughters, maybe. 'Cept the youngest, of course. That's what they most recently fought about, I think."

"So the youngest doesn't like Rocket, and the mother's a bit of a crook, but isn't a Rocket?"

"Something like that," Robin agreed, then glanced around. The three or four dozen other patrons of the PMC eating breakfast at the cafe didn't seem to arouse suspicion however, for she kept talking at the same volume, "Johann Snøgrav leads the Ice Gym. Bit of a hard-ass, kind of like Nadine Minier I guess, but you can tell he's from NorEurope if anything. Got that old Scandinavian look to him. Hulking, hairy, muscular, bearded, beads, and all. Even walks around with a big-ass axe for 'cutting ice and fools'. I don't really see the appeal myself, but Waterflower Senior likes him just fine, and I can see why... aside from their fights. My guess is he's one of, if not the, highest-placed Rocket spy within the Indigo League in Kanto. Not the highest rank in Rocket of course, but he's pretty up there. Maybe about… where your rival is."

"Okay," Elle muttered, "So then, what? Is he that tough?"

"He probably is," Robin nodded, "You have to realize, no Gym Leader ever really uses their full team at full strength. Not in official League matches, anyway. If and when they do, it's… apocalyptic. At least, that's my understanding. This guy's got to at least be able to hold his own against all comers, no matter how strong they are. So he's pretty good. Same with Mrs. Waterflower."

"We beat Stirling and Rowe," Alex reminded her.

"Yes, but they were literally handicapped by League Rules," Robin pointed out. "You both had no badges, they had to use no more than three of some of their weakest Pokémon. Don't get me wrong, I've seen your Battles. You both did pretty damned good. But now you do have a Badge. You're in the top twenty-five, even top ten percent of everyone taking the League Challenge this year just for getting that far. But every single Badge weeds out the next seventy-five to ninety percent… so that by the time the actual League Conference rolls around, only those who have the twelve minimum Badges need apply, and the League isn't completely swamped by scrubs who can't even Battle."

Alex had to admit, that made some sense. He shrugged, "Alright, so… what? We just give up?"

"Hell no," Robin laughed, waving a hand through the air, "I'm not saying that at all. I'm saying don't think you're all that just 'cause you've won a single Badge. There are still much bigger fish in the sea, so to speak."

"You don't even have one Badge yet," Elle shot, sounding annoyed.

"True… yet. I will. I'm just waiting to take one of the Gyms with you two, that's all. And I don't honestly care. I'm not here to win the League. I'm here to have fun, and get some action, pop out some kids, make a lot of others pop out kids, you know the drill by now. I'll get a few Badges, but just for fun, so my own 'mons don't think I'm nothing to worry about. Not that I have to worry about that, they're very loyal. But still, people would talk. Anyway…

"The thing about Snøgrav is, he's-"

"Wait… Snow-grave? Is that his name?"

Robin's head cocked at Alex's question, "It's a little shorter, more cut-off. Like I said, Scandinavian. Norwegian, maybe? It's where the English word 'snow' comes from, and… grave or tomb? I don't know. One of those. It's not his real name of course, unless he changed it legally. Rocket's got means, after all, and plenty of reason to."

Something about that caught Elle's attention, and she narrowed her eyes, "You know, you keep dropping that name like it means nothing at all… in a city you say is just chock-full of their eyes and ears."

That actually made Robin snort, then laugh again, "Oh, oh… that's a good catch, Elle, really. But I don't give a fuck if they know I know about them. See, here's the thing: they literally can't kill me. They could sell this body off… but I know it's a body. My brain is back there with yours, on our world. Yggdrassil has enough influence these guys all just think we're talking about the weather, anyway, or something equally banal. Sure, It's my 'real' body… but it's just a body. GF would grow me another one. I bet you money they've got three or four already in the works, if they can get the DNA sequencing down to copy me directly. Hell, I might've fathered my own clone, for all I know. I know they took plenty of samples. So for me, it's just temporary at worst. And these guys? They don't know shit. Even if Rocket was here, which I doubt because this is a PMC, the scrubs here wouldn't know what to do with anything I've said. It's the higher-ups you have to worry about. Grunts are just that: Grunts. Muscle. Thugs."

"Still," Alex said as he leaned in, "Best keep it quiet anyway. No reason not to be cautious."

"Suit yourself," Robin shrugged, "Anyway, like I was saying, Snøgrav is a fierce opponent, and he's almost certainly a mid- to high-grade Rocket, but we don't know a whole lot about him. We know he's working closely with the Executive in charge of operations in the city, though. She runs, well, the brothels. The entertainment districts. The red-light. The movies- porn movies of course- all of it. We don't even know her name, though. Old records indicate it starts with an A and ends in an A, but beyond that, we haven't got a clue who she is. Female with red hair, and that's about it. Damned dangerous, though. At least on the equal of a mid-tier Gym Leader, which means if you go up against her directly she'll squash you flat. Maybe take out a city block in the process. She could afford to have it fixed with pocket change, probably."

"Wow," Elle whispered. "That's… a lot of change."

"Money talks, and she's about as rich as they come I think. Anyway, so either he works directly for her, or they're close allies. Not really clear which. Mrs. Waterflower, the mother, does what he says most of the time, because they fuck a lot between fights, even if they aren't actually dating. The daughters, the Sensational Waterflower Sisters, are gorgeous, models, porn stars… you know the drill. Socialites- but the kind who can throw down. They're each capable of running a Gym in their own right, and their rules indicate you have to fight them together if you fight them at all. It's a tough, six-on-six, double-whammy. Three of theirs versus three of yours, at the same time. Guess how often they lose?"

"Not often, I bet," Alex chuckled darkly.

"Right in one. They do, of course. They have to follow general League rules about the team composition, and so on, but the battles themselves are set up so they win most of the time, and it shows. They've got one of the worst records of Badge rewards for three years in a row, ever since their mother started delegating the last fight to them. Of course, she's far more fair… openly. She just distracts people with her body, and so on. Basic stuff, but effective. More your type, Elle, than Alex's, so watch out."

"What do you mean?" the blonde asked, clearly affronted.

"I mean she's got big tits," Robin replied casually, holding out her hands at about twice the distance of her own still perky, full ones. "Bigger than Stirling's, and with a softer bod to go with it. Swimmer, you know? Fucking gorgeous, but… eh, don't get distracted. That's all. Anyway, I'm about done… you guys ready to go warm up the teams? Get some anti-Water practice in?"

"S- Sure," Alex agreed, sending another lost look toward Elle, who could only shrug.

Whoever Robin was, she knew a lot. What choice did they even have, but to trust her? At least for now?


Adisa didn't see the blow coming in time, but she still had her abs tensed to absorb much of the shock as her supposed underling did his best to bury his fist in her gut. She rocked back with the blow, bending her hips to take on more, glad that she'd spent plenty of time in her more-wild youth engaging in muay thai than drugs, sex, or other, more reckless pursuits. She hadn't been in a real sparring match in years, and had never been in a real fight.

This would be the first, then, she thought almost idly as she heard the big man's knuckles crack audibly against her gut.

She just had to make sure it wasn't her last.

"You report to me," Adisa hissed as her hands came up, twisting around the man's still over-extended arm. He'd tried to uppercut her, no doubt trying to take her down in a single good hit. It might've worked, he probably had a hundred pounds on her… if Adisa didn't have at least some experience and training, and reflexes that made him seem like he was moving in slow motion.

Her right arm twisted around his wrist, then straightened, taking his hand with it. Her left hit his elbow from the bottom as he spun, desperate to keep her from breaking his wrist. It snapped cleanly at least, and she felt strangely vindicated in the sharp noise, more still by his sudden roar of pain. "You bitch! I report to Vaan, and to Proton! You're nobody, just some slut Vaan put here to keep busy while he's off doing real work! Let me go!"

"Real work? Fleecing newbies and kids with no Badges- maybe one- to their name out of every penny they have? What're we supposed to be guarding, huh, Clarke? A fucking cave! Who cares if some kids with Pokémon go in there? The creatures will keep them safe! I'm not a fucking idiot, and I'm not a bitch. I'm definitely not your bitch, so don't think you give me orders. What. Are. We. Guarding?"

"Fuck off!" he tried.

"Wrong answer," Adisa growled, mindful of the eyes of a dozen young recruits, most of her team, who had started to gather as the shouting had started ten minutes earlier. Now, with things coming to blows, well… her team could swamp his, that wasn't even a question. She could wipe the floor with all of them. She hadn't expected the physical attack, but… well, she was better than him there, too. It was probably time to prove it, just for the record.

Her foot came up as her weight shifted back, dragging the perverted, creepy man off-balance by his broken arm. Her wrist twisted further, taking his hand with it, and it crunched too, more grotesquely. The sounds of pain washed away as she was overtaken by her senses of smell and touch: fresh urine, and the feel of his knee giving way under her boot. Not broken, but those tendons would hurt, for weeks if she was right.

Clarke hit the ground with a thud and wince, and she let go just to see his face hit the dirt. But Adisa wasn't in a mood to give the man any reprieve. He'd been perving on the younger women in their group too long already. Assaulting her was just the last of a long string of reasons to bring him down several hundred pegs.

She stomped on the middle of his back and leaned in, forcing him further onto the ground with one hand pinned beneath him. The broken one scrabbled uselessly at the dirt around her foot, but he couldn't get purchase. "Tell me, Clarke, and the pain stops. What are we really doing here? Are we guarding some cave? Or are we getting rich bilking people? I can do math, you know. We get sixty or seventy attempts per day, and it costs five hundred per. Ten attempts pays for one Nugget on the market. We give out two or three a week. This place is a literal goldmine for Rocket, isn't it?"

"We're- agh- fuckin'- fucking guarding the cave!" Clarke insisted.

Adisa ground her heel in further, and he grunted, "Fuck! Fuck, al- alright! Fuck, I'll talk! Just let me breathe!"

She snorted, but did relax, just a little. Not enough he could get out, but she took a third of the weight off his chest, at least. "Start talking. I gave you that first punch, you know. My Pokémon are pretty pissed. Machop wants to castrate you, with his teeth I think. Houndour wants to just eat your throat, maybe well-done, maybe rare. So do the smart thing, Clarke, and start talking. Now."

The last words wasn't yelled, but hissed quietly between clean, white teeth.

And he did. Blubbering, almost, while the scared children and teenagers around them watched and listened, he told them that yes, she was right. Yes, Team Rocket made literal millions monthly off their work… and paid them in the low thousands all together. Yes, Team Rocket was also guarding the cave. Not to keep people out, necessarily, but to ensure that those that went in wouldn't be a waste of time for… whatever was inside. Which, of course, he didn't know.

That, Adisa believed completely.

The problem was, what to do with him now…?
"Miss Chuke?" one of the girls, a thirteen year old named Sandra, asked softly after she had been mulling it over for a few minutes, "Is… is everything gonna be okay?"

She didn't know.

Rocket had seemed… well, not this.

They had stopped Zapdos from rampaging, after all. Morley Vaan himself had done so, with her help! There were so many, they were so organized. Was this, bilking helpless kids, how it was all bankrolled? And guarding the cave's occupant from weaklings? Why not guard it, whatever it was, against something that was a threat, instead? It made no sense.

But some things did.

Clarke was a predator.

And he had to be dealt with.

She wasn't going to murder him though. Not so simply, anyway. Instead, she reached for his belt, and removed his two Pokéballs. "These don't belong to you, they belong to Rocket. Don't they?"

He whimpered, but nodded.

"Then Rocket is keeping them." She stepped off of him, and he tried to roll. But it was too late, her boot connected with the side of his ribs with another crack. She wasn't sure she had broken anything that time, but even her steel-protected toes hurt after the kick, and he rolled three times before he stopped. "Megan, Riku, Callie? He's been watching you shower, probably for weeks. With your, uh, private time, too. Don't kill him… but maybe show him that not even low-level Rocket members are to be trifled with, why don't you? And Clarke?"

He looked up at her, whimpering, and tried to scramble to his feet with his broken arm clutched against his maybe-broken ribs with the other hand.

"The girls won't kill you… but maybe you should run back to Team Rocket anyway, and tell them I quit, effective… oh, when they send someone to replace me. Maybe they should send two, since I'll probably do to the first one what I just did to you. Vaan has my number if he wants to talk."

"You don't know what you're doing," Clarke growled, "These kids… they've got nothin', nowhere else to go. Rocket's all they've got. But that won't mean nothin' after this."

"And I'm not doing anything to them," Adisa snarled, slashing her hand through the air, "But they still have me! Run, you little shit. Run back to your masters like the cowardly bitch you are, and tell them what I said. These kids can stay with Rocket, or they can do something else, but they're done being watched over by a creep like you. This is your last warning, before I turn my team loose. Run."

And he ran, the three oldest girls chasing after him with their own Pokémon in hot pursuit, eager to be let loose- and for a bit of payback of their own against the bastard who'd helped make their lives hell for the last two weeks.

Now she just had to figure out what to do with the rest of them… and herself.

Clearly, Rocket wasn't going to be a viable option for much longer. Whatever protection being Morley's fuck-girl had offered was probably gone the moment he called her an invader. She should've seen the signs then… whatever they were. Only…

How?