High Society: The tales from Victory

Agent Leviathan [Part II] (Chapter 18)

The time had come and the banners were held up high with all the pomp and circumstance the city could muster. The series of shouts and cheers were the acclimation of pleasure and joy, an indulgence of the celebration. The stench of street filth was subdued by the enriched and savory atmosphere put off by the many vendors of the area.

The walls were coated with posters promoting a show of the “Champion's Legacy” at the theater. Afterwards a race for any competitors willing. Followed by a word from the region's top scientist, Professor Pine, Minister of Justice, Marick Ire, and lastly,  but most importantly, the President of Adivinar, Melissa Pine. Ezekiel stared at the poster noting its boistering authority, all the while people behind him stumble around drunkenly; it wasn't even noon.

He took a stroll through the crowded city, cars were scarce, probably due to many workers calling in sick or even having their work places closed for the festivities. Ezekiel glanced over to a full and bustling “Season's Cafe” and then walked away. Not every place was privileged to enjoy the day, it seemed.

He stumbled through the seas of people and found himself peppered by the beaming sunlight, away from the bleak towers of steel and glass, and onto the pier. The air was damp and salty, but he didn't mind it any. He looked around to see tourists buying from, what could've been, hundreds of stands. Unique foods and trinkets sold under ludicrous prices. He passed by a woman in deep purple robes and lavender hair. He made eye contact and she gave a warm smile. She motioned him over with a finger, he reluctantly obliged.

He approached her and she looked at him and nodded, “Look at you!” Ezekiel recoiled from her sudden exclamation. She reached out and grabbed his hand, stared at it, then proceeded, “You have bags under your eyes. You're certainly a tired, but hardworking man, no?” all the while pressed her index finger into his palm.

Ezekiel retracted his hand. “Are you going to offer me a palm reading? Sorry, I don't care for parlor tricks.”

She put a hand on her chest. “Now who said anything about that? I was going to offer you some herbs that help fight insomnia or even act as a de-stressor. Although it seems like you're too stubborn. Hopefully your science will help you.”

Ezekiel sighed, “My apologies. I'm new around here.”

“Well worry not. Did you need anything? My sister is a channeler, she can speak to your pokemon if you two have a strenuous relationship.” The dusk clad witch pushed the curtain of her stall open to reveal a man and a Goldeen, in a large fish tank, in, what seemed to be, counseling.

The kimono clad woman reached her hand out and placed it on the Goldeen's head. She nodded a few times. “Goldeen is feeling underappreciated. You seem to spend far too much time with your Gyarados.”

The Goldeen spat out bubbles.

“You've not really used Goldeen to do much, but sit in the side line. Pokemon taken from their homes want to be useful.”

The man teared up looking at the Goldeen and whispered, “It's just that Gyarados is so strong! I'm sorry I didn't think you'd be hurt!” The man began to sob and clutched the fishtank. After a few moments he got to his feet.

“Thank you! I understand now.”

“Your welcome. That will be ¥500.”

“What?! I'm not paying for anything! You didn't do anything special. You were just like some half-assed therapist.”

“Sir, I provided you with a service, you must pay.”

“No, a service is something learned that anybody can do. You just used your born gift. It's something you should do for free.”