DPA: Rivals

Chapter 23: Bad Breath Of A Salesman

Mewtwo closed its eyes, taking in the silence. With the exception of the gentle flow of water from one of the few streams that twisted their way around the Cerulean Cave, not a sound could be heard. Even the Pokémon that inhabited the cave, residents of the area far longer than Mewtwo was, were silent, in a dazed state produced by the psychic energy that emanated off of Mewtwo's body.

The very heart of Cerulean Cave was cool, dark, and dry, perfect for slowing the decay that plagued Mewtwo for the past several weeks. Even with the delay, the Genetic Pokémon knew that it was running out of time. Definitely less than a year.

Feelings of bitterness and anger surged throughout as Mewtwo struggled with its very existence. To be given life, only for that life to be taken away in such a short space of time, was a cruelty no words could describe. It felt like...a painful numbness.

"You were annihilated back there!" Cameron laughed as he opened the door to the Route 3 Pokémon Center. "That other trainer, I think his name was Austin, took Pikachu, Spearow and Bulbasaur out in less time than it takes to blink!"

"That's not fair," Daryon scowled. "We totally would've won if Pikachu wasn't so tired from all the walking."

"But Pikachu rides on your shoulder," Max said.

"That's right, Max," Skye said. "Daryon is just making excuses for why he lost to a Jigglypuff."

"It was a strong Jigglypuff!" Daryon argued. "Let's see you try and take Austin's Jigglypuff on."

"Whatever," Skye shrugged, approaching this Pokémon Center's Doctor. "We're here to patch up and rest."

"Of course," replied the Doctor. "My name is Dr. Joy."

"What a coincidence," Daryon noted. "The Doctor in Pewter City was named Dr. Joy."

"Not a coincidence at all," Dr. Joy said, collecting Pokéballs from the various group members. "My great aunt Eve Joy ran the first licensed Pokémon Center over at the Indigo Plateau. She has complete control over every Indigo League certified Pokémon Center, and places various relatives of her in charge of them. The Joy you met in Pewter City is Alana Joy. My name is Beatrice Joy."

"So every Pokémon Center in Kanto is run by a member of the Joy family?" Cameron asked, his interest piqued.

"With the exception of Viridian City and the Sevii Islands, that would be correct."

"Fascinating," Cameron muttered as he jotted this new tidbit of information in his notes.

"I would say so." Dr. Joy turned around, placing everyone's Pokéballs into the PHM behind her. "Your Pokémon should be finished healing in roughly twenty minutes, so feel free to take a break, rest, and even get a snack from the vending machine against the wall.

The four people (and one floating, sentient Pokédex) walked over to the waiting area to take a seat. It had been a week since they had left Pewter City, and already the events that occurred there seemed little more than a distant memory. All anyone could think about was what lay ahead. They were halfway to Cerulean City, halfway to another Gym battle, halfway to another place to explore, halfway to new experiences.

These thoughts floating around in his mind, Daryon got up and walked over to the nearby vending machine. As he inserted some yen into the machine, he noticed an older man leaning against the wall, looking at him. This man, dressed in a wrinkled suit, hairline receding, lip adorned with a pencil thin mustache, smiled, exposing a row of surprisingly bright white teeth.

"Hi," Daryon said as the vending machine dispensed a can of lemonade, his favorite drink.

"Hello, young gentleman," the man replied, strutting closer to Daryon. Daryon could smell the man's breath, and it smelled foul, like garbage rotting under a Muk for weeks. He grit his teeth, trying to not to show how grossed out he was, and hurt the man's feelings.

"I have a proposition for you, young man," the man with the stinky breath said, pulling a Pokéball out from his breast pocket. "I'm in the business of collecting powerful Pokémon for trainers. Normally this particularly rare Pokémon I have here is worth half a million in yen. However, I need to get rid of all of my stock for...tax reasons, so I'll sell you this incredibly powerful Pokémon for only 500 yen."

Daryon looked at the Pokéball, then at the salesman. This whole offer felt a little shady, but the asking price really wasn't a lot of money, and the idea of leaving an innocent Pokémon in the care of this probable sleazebag didn't feel right. Sighing, Daryon handed over the money, taking the Pokéball.

Shrugging off the strange encounter, Daryon rejoined his friends in the waiting area, showing them the Pokéball he had bought moments ago. When Cameron asked who he bought the Pokéball from, Daryon turned around to point to the salesman, but the man had already left. Weird.