Chapter no.371 Mercenary Trainers

Read advance chapters (+ 70 ) of all my works or want to support me.

https://www.p.a.t.r.e.on.com/Adamo_Amet

....

Join us on discord

https://discord.gg/h3kDw7ma

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Austin sat comfortably in a worn wooden booth, surrounded by the rustic charm of an old family-run restaurant. The walls were lined with antique portraits and vintage posters of long-forgotten events, while the aroma of savory dishes wafted through the air, making his stomach rumble with anticipation.

Austin looked across the table and smiled at the elderly lady he was conversing with. As they chatted, Austin's beloved Pokemon frolicked around the restaurant, enjoying their version of a night out.

Charmeleon was perched on a nearby window sill, basking in the warmth of the restaurant's flickering candlelight. The flames danced and flickered, casting a warm glow over the entire room.

Wartortle was swimming in a large fish tank that was built into the wall behind the bar. The water was crystal clear, and Magikarp darted around playfully as Wartortle chased after it.

Rhydon had found an old jukebox and was dancing wildly to the music that played from its speakers. His large, heavy feet caused the floorboards to shake, but no one seemed to mind as they watched him bust a move.

Ivysaur was munching on a basket of bread, his long vines curling around the crusty edges as he devoured each slice with relish while keeping an eye on Rhydon and his dance moves. He paused occasionally to take a sip of water from a glass that was perched on the edge of the table.

Lucario was playing a game of cards with the old man and his Magneton.

Kingler was snapping its pincers to the music.

Shedninja was perched atop the salt shaker, its translucent wings fluttering as it watched the scene below.

Ninjask was perched on the chandeliers, darting back with the old couple's Zubat and forth in a game of tag. Their movements were so quick that they appeared as mere blurs to the human eye.

Dragonair had found a large potted plant and was coiled around it like a serpent. Her scales shimmered in the candlelight as she basked in the plant's warmth while looking on at Lucario's winning with a loving smile.

Clefable was singing softly to herself, her melodious voice a soothing sound amid the restaurant's bustle. She had a small crowd of wild Pokemon that the couple usually feed gathered around her, all listening intently to her sweet songs.

Musharna had found a cozy corner near the fireplace and had curled up into a fluffy ball. She was dozing off, lulled to sleep by the warmth and the sound of the fire's crackling.

Scizor was perched on a wooden beam near the ceiling, surveying the scene below with a watchful eye. He was always on alert, ever the vigilant protector of his trainer and the rest of the group while Fearow tried to move the bug type into playing a game of darts with him while Pidgeot waited for Fearow to convince Scizor to join.

Butterfree was fluttering around the restaurant's various floral arrangements, his delicate wings spreading a fine dusting of pollen wherever he went. The flowers seemed to bloom more brightly in his presence.

Chansey was making her rounds, checking in on each and every Pokémon in the restaurant. She carried a basket filled with fresh towels and other amenities, always ready to lend a helping hand but the demonic look on her face caused many to not approach her.

Haunter had found an old barrel filled with water and was splashing Abra around in it.

They sprayed water everywhere and caused a few nearby Pokemon to laugh along with them.

Well, there you have it, folks. Just another day in the life of a Pokemon. Dunked in a barrel by a Haunter. Truly riveting stuff."

Abra commented before getting dunked again.

Austin glanced over at his Pokemon, a sense of contentment washing over him. He was happy to see them all having such a good time, each one indulging in their little pleasures.

As he turned back to the elderly couple, he couldn't help but feel grateful for their company. They had been sharing stories and reminiscing about their own Pokemon journeys, and Austin was fascinated by their tales of adventure and friendship.

At that moment, surrounded by the warm glow of the restaurant and the joyous laughter of his Pokemon, Austin felt happy.

The warm and inviting ambiance of the restaurant was shattered by the sound of shattering glass. In a heartbeat, the jovial atmosphere was replaced with one of tense silence as everyone turned their attention to the entrance. Two men, dressed in dark clothing and with their faces twisted into sneers, had barged in.

Their footsteps echoed heavily in the restaurant as they made their way toward the center, their menacing voices filling the room with a threatening edge.

As the two men swaggered towards the table where Austin sat among his companions and Pokemon, their voices rang out, laced with audacious insults and menacing threats.

"Look at this! A room full of overgrown pets," the first man, a hulking brute with a serpent tattoo curling around his neck, sneered, a smug grin splitting his face.

"Yeah," the other man, thin and wiry with cold, calculating eyes, chimed in, "a bunch of weak, pathetic creatures."

Their words echoed through the room, drawing the attention of everyone present. They scoffed, their laughter grating and dismissive. "Look at that one," the burly man pointed at a Pikachu, "thinks it's a warrior, just because it can spark a bit!"

Pikachu in response just licked his Ketchup.

"And that one!" the thin man cackled, nodding towards an Ivysaur, "Believes it's some kind of a tank, hiding behind a plant!"

Ivysaur narrowed his eyes before hearing some snickers as he glanced at see Ninjask and Wartortle laughing at him.

Their harsh words and mocking laughter filled the room, igniting an air of hostility. Unfazed, they continued their tirade, "Oh, and let's not forget the fire lizard," the burly man said, gesturing towards a Charmeleon, "Barely has a tail flame and it thinks it can breathe fire like a dragon!"

"Yep, seeing how this one looks, it's either sick or was born a freak."

Charmeleon growled but stopped himself from mauling the two idiots.

With that, the burly man reached out, his hand closing around Austin's shoulder in an attempt to assert dominance. Their arrogance was palpable, the room charged with a tense standoff between the two men and the room full of Pokemon.

But Austin was not one to be easily intimidated. In a lightning-fast move, he grabbed the man's hand and twisted it behind his back, causing him to yelp in pain. "Get your hands off me!" Austin growled, his eyes locked on the two thugs.

The restaurant fell into an uneasy silence as the tension in the air mounted. The only sound that could be heard was the labored breathing of the two men and the low growl emanating from Austin's Pokemon.

The men tried to shake off Austin's grip, but he held fast, his muscles tensed with determination. "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

The two men exchanged a glance, unsure of how to proceed. The tension in the room was palpable, and the other patrons of the restaurant watched in fearful anticipation.

Finally, one of the men spoke up. "We don't want any trouble," he said, his voice now devoid of the earlier aggression. "We were just passing through, and we saw this place. We thought we'd stop in and grab a bite to eat."

Austin eyed them skeptically but slowly released his grip on the man's arm. "Fine," he said, his voice still tense.

"But why did you have to insult my buddies ?"

"We are drunk."

"Real coherent for some drunkards."

"No, no, that's just how we talk." The duo slurred their words as Austin snorted before letting them go.

The two men nodded quickly, clearly relieved to have escaped without incident. They turned and made their way back toward the entrance of the restaurant, their footsteps heavy and uncertain.

Austin glanced to see the old lady shaking from fear.

"Miss, are you acquainted with those ruffians?" Austin inquired, addressing the elderly woman, who fidgeted nervously, rearranging the spoons on display.

"N-No," she stammered, her fear evident.

"Alright," Austin said, snapping his fingers to the surprise of the two elderly onlookers. The door to the mochi shop swung open, and the two burly men were dragged back inside, hoisted by their underwear as Hunter held them aloft. They were gagged with BDSM gear and drenched in paint, their eyes wide with shock and humiliation.

"Really?" Austin questioned, raising an eyebrow as Hunter gestured towards Abra.

"Do I even need to ask?"

"Well, you see," Abra replied, smirking, "something is captivating about the raw, unfiltered essence of humanity. Besides, the chaos of inebriation has a certain intrinsic beauty, like a visual representation of a tier list of dubious life choices. It's fascinating."

"And the paint was your first thought?"

"No, actually, my initial impulse was to fist them."

"I'm not even going to ask further," Austin sighed, shaking his head. "Someone ungag them."

Upon noticing that the two men had passed out, Austin frowned and redirected his attention to the elderly couple. "Forget it. Miss, who are these buffoons?"

The elderly couple exchanged weary glances before revealing, "These men belong to a notorious biker gang called the Mischief Magikarp Mafioso, located in the northeast of Celadon. For the past few months, they've been terrorizing small businesses like ours. Young man, we suggest you leave as soon as possible before their gang decides to target you."

Austin nodded, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of indignation at the thought of innocent people being terrorized by these thugs. He decided to press the old woman further, "Don't you have some way to stop them?"

The old woman let out a weary sigh, "If only it were that simple. We don't have the money to hire mercenary trainers and the police refuse to help us as they are too busy dealing with the recent protests going on."

"Mercenary trainers? Protests?" Austin asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Looks like you don't follow the news, sonny," the old woman replied.

"Recently, protests have been launched ever since Gym Leader Erika went missing, and people don't feel safe in the hands of the pokemon league."

Austin nodded solemnly, fully comprehending the serious repercussions of his actions.

"Has the league offered any kind of solution?" he asked, hoping for a positive response.

"Yes, they have," the elderly man replied, "Two former gym leaders, Misty and Brock, I believe, are slated to take over the Celadon Gym."

Austin's eyes widened slightly at the news. "Oh," he murmured, his gaze falling upon his Pokemon, who were all watching him intently. "That's great news, isn't it? Misty and Brock are here," he said, his words directed more at his Pokemon than at the elderly couple.

"What about Mercenary Trainers?" he asked.

"Oh, they are trainers that couldn't qualify for the status of ace trainers in the league so they rent out their services," the old woman explained. "They do everything from getting a starter Pokemon for new trainers to dealing with everyday problems like an infestation of Raticates, unwanted Beedrill nests, and much more."

Austin's curiosity had been piqued by the mention of Mercenary Trainers.

"So, are we going to bust down another gang?" Lucario asked, his voice breaking through Austin's thoughts as Abra exclaimed.

"Yes, I can finally fist someone with the fire in my hand." Abra proclaimed as he raised his fist in the air causing Pikachu to spill his coffee onto his yellow fur.

"Pika, Pi."

"Oh, geez, I am so sorry about that! Clumsiness must be at a record high for me today."

"Pika, Chu."

"Wait, Pikachu, not in the shop !"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

[ Omake Paragraph ]

An Unown's Hidden Power, despite the mystique of millennia and many a theory, is nothing more than language. Alone and Unown is futile, a stray letter drifting in the breeze, but it can join with other Pokemon in a myriad of different ways, giving each a different power. They are most powerful combined with other Unown: a team of one Unown I, one K, and two L's can produce an attack that slays most foes in a single hit. In large circles the size of an alphabet or two, they form word after word, shifting with a fascinating array of tactics requiring the creativity of a Scrabble champion to use effectively. And most importantly, they can communicate over distances not through saying their name or charades, but as easily as humans use neon billboards and the spoken word.

Indeed, it is primarily from Unown that human language developed. The powerful words of Unown's attacks and their combinations with existing Pokemon provide the building blocks of our language. Consider the term "ghastly", developed to describe Unown H combined with Gastly, an eerie mix that makes regular Gastly seem harmless. And although words also came from the need to describe new concepts, and many others originated from the names spoken by other Pokemon, one must only recall the Unown techniques of "THE" for targeting and "AND" for summoning teammates to remember how strongly the Unown grip the roots of our speech. After all, every form of writing known to man has developed from either pictographs or stylized representations of the Unown.

Some have sought to tap into the Unown's power to conquer the world. These people are called writers, and they have already done so a thousand times over.