Chapter 184: Work
Xiu watched Xiaochun process his explanation about mutual aid, a thoughtful expression replacing her earlier confusion. "So," she summarized slowly, her mental voice relayed by Abra, "...it's okay to refuse help if you can manage alone, or if accepting help puts the other person at unnecessary risk?"
"Exactly," Xiu confirmed, nodding slightly and offering a faint smile.
A flicker of something – perhaps pride, perhaps uncertainty – crossed Xiaochun's face. "So... I can say no? If I don't want to?"
"Of course," Xiu affirmed gently but firmly. "Number Seven is gone. You chose a new path, a new name. You are Xiaochun now. There's no Organization here dictating your choices, no missions you're forced to undertake." He reached out and lightly pinched the unconscious thug lying nearby, eliciting a pained groan.
"See? No one forcing him to do anything right now either." He let the implication hang.
Xiaochun watched him, then looked down at her own hands, a complex, unreadable expression in her eyes.
Having dealt with the immediate aftermath of the warehouse intrusion – ensuring Xiaochun was stable and disposing of the two thugs discreetly – Xiu spent the next day observing the unfolding situation in Viridian City.
His counter-strategy seemed to be working, at least partially. The broadcasts featuring Professor Oak, combined with the visible presence of Pokémon Center staff distributing affordable food staples from their temporary storefront, had effectively dampened the widespread panic buying.
Prices for essential goods and services, while still inflated in many regular shops, weren't skyrocketing further. The merchants and whoever backed them, seemingly caught off guard by the swift, coordinated response, had adopted a wait-and-see approach, hoarding their stockpiled goods, perhaps assuming the Pokémon Center's intervention was unsustainable.
They're waiting for our supply line to falter, Xiu surmised. He allowed himself a small, internal smirk. They don't know about the continuous stream of supplies arriving from Pewter, thanks to Fushun's drivers and Xiaoyuan's management. The initial injection of Professor Oak's capital was already being put to work, securing supply lines that bypassed the local market entirely.
His intervention had effectively decapitated the economic aspect of Team Rocket's destabilization plan, at least for now. Reputation-wise, the swift action had also bolstered the image of the Pokémon Center network, positioning them as reliable protectors in a time of crisis, further cementing Head Nurse Joy's standing among the populace.
A free city-wide advertising campaign, Xiu mused. Worth far more than the minimal profit margin we sacrificed by selling at cost.
However, the other aspect of the chaos – direct action by Team Rocket and affiliated gangs – continued unabated. Clashes between criminals and the combined forces of Pokémon Center security, volunteer trainers, and the sparse but active International Police occurred sporadically throughout the city.
Xiu heard reports of ambushes, sabotage attempts on communication lines, and even running battles involving teams of ten or more Pokémon. The authorities seemed to be holding the line, just barely, but the city remained tense, scarred by the conflict. Ordinary citizens mostly stayed indoors, venturing out only when necessary.
Head Nurse Joy's people are competent, Xiu acknowledged, observing a patrol of Center security personnel moving briskly down a street. But they're stretched thin. The lack of support from the Viridian City police force or the Gym Leaders remained glaringly obvious. They're fighting with one hand tied behind their back.
He continued his observations like a ghost, drifting through the tense city.
As evening fell again, Xiu found himself on a bench near the edge of the city center, finishing a simple meal of bread and water. He crumpled the wrapper, scanned his surroundings – the subdued streetlights, the near-empty pavements – and stood up. Time to move.
He headed towards a district of Viridian known for its poverty, its dilapidated buildings, and its less-than-savory reputation. Unlike the tense but relatively orderly atmosphere in the main district, this place felt different – quieter, perhaps, but with a simmering undercurrent.
This was the turf of gangs, petty criminals, and those who lived outside the official system. Team Rocket's natural recruiting ground, Xiu recognized. Their headquarters, or at least a major hub, must be around here. Official patrols rarely ventured deep into these tangled streets; it was practically autonomous territory.
He wasn't here for charity tonight. He had a specific target, gleaned from the fragmented memories he extracted from the warehouse intruder: the location of the gang leader who had sent them.
He navigated the dimly lit, narrow streets, easily avoiding the few who were on the pavement overdosed with drugs. He located the landmark mentioned in the thug's memory – a rundown bar on a corner, its sign mostly broken, the remaining neon lights flickering erratically, casting distorted, sickly glows. Two rough-looking individuals slouched by the front door, ostensibly acting as bouncers, their posture lazy, their attention focused on their own low conversation.
Xiu circled around the block. Bars like this always had back entrances, usually. He found an overflowing dumpster in the alley behind, used it to scale a low wall into an adjacent neglected yard, and slipped through an unlocked service door into the back hallway of the bar, bypassing the front entirely.
The interior contrasted sharply with the dilapidated exterior. It was dimly lit but clean, styled like an old-fashioned dance hall, complete with a worn wooden bar, booths lining the walls, and a small, empty dance floor in the center.[1]
Despite the effective curfew gripping the rest of the city, this place was moderately busy. Music pulsed at a low volume,[2] and patrons – mostly rough-looking men and a few women – drank, gambled quietly at tables, or spoke in low tones in the booths.
Business as usual for the underworld.
Xiu scanned the room, his gaze neutral, attracting little attention in the dim light. He wasn't interested in the ground floor patrons. His target was upstairs. He located the staircase and ascended quietly...
In a private room on the second floor, the atmosphere was anything but quiet. Empty bottles and plates of half-eaten snacks littered a large central table. Several young men sprawled on plush sofas, drinking heavily, shouting, and laughing boisterously.
"...and you shoulda seen the old fool's face!" one youth slurred, slamming his beer bottle down, gesturing wildly. "Just wanted his stupid berry back! Gave 'im a kick, sent 'im rolling!" He roared with laughter.
"Yeah! Teach 'em respect!" another chimed in. "These civvies gotta learn who's boss now! We got Pokémon, they got nothin'!"
"Shoulda finished 'im," a third grumbled, rubbing a torn sleeve. "Old bastard ripped my jacket!"
"Don't worry," the first youth swaggered, "city's fallin' apart! Won't be long now. Then we take whatever we want!"
"Yeah! Chaos! Gonna make a fortune!"
"Gonna have some fun," another added, leering towards the apparent leader of the group – a young man lounging silently in the center of the main sofa. "Hey, boss," the leering youth began, "once things really break down, lemme have a taste of those fancy girls from uptown..."
Before he could finish his crude suggestion, the door to the private room swung open abruptly— a figure stood silhouetted in the doorway.
The drunken laughter died instantly. Everyone stared, stunned into silence. This was their territory, their private room. Someone should have been guarding the door downstairs. How had a stranger just walked in?
As they gaped, a second, larger shadow loomed up behind the first figure in the doorway. Dark, metallic pincers dragged the two thugs Xiu saw guarding the entrance, dropping them unceremoniously onto the carpet.
The leader of the group recognized his bouncers instantly. His eyes widened in alarm.
The figure in the doorway stepped fully into the room, letting the light fall on his masked face. "Well, well," Xiu remarked pleasantly, his voice calm despite the tension. "Quite the gathering. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down individually." He reached back and quietly clicked the door shut behind him.
[1] just imagine the bar where Ekko and alternate universe Jinx were in
[2] and of course, it has to be Ma Meilleure Ennemie