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"What on earth happened to make him so anxious all of a sudden? From the voice, it really was the old captain."
Sato stared at the comm screen, which now showed that the call had been cut off. His expression grew heavy as confusion filled his heart.
"Boo!!!"
Suddenly, just as Sato was deep in thought, a small Misdreavus appeared before him, shouting loudly. It stuck out its long red tongue, trying its hardest to pull off a terrifying face.
Unfortunately, Sato didn't react at all to Misdreavus's prank scare. His eyelids didn't even twitch — he looked perfectly calm and composed.
Even Pikachu and Kecleon, perched on his shoulder, were completely unfazed.
Misdreavus realized its scare prank had failed once again on Sato and immediately wore a dejected look. A moment later, Dusknoir — the more composed one — appeared behind it, pulling the sulking Misdreavus into the corner of the room.
Then, both Ghost-types vanished into thin air using their natural ability to turn invisible.
"Pika-pi~"
Seeing Misdreavus arrive in high spirits only to leave dejected again, Pikachu crossed its little arms, shook its head, and gave a mock-sigh like an old man.
After living in the human world for a month or two and often watching horror movies, Misdreavus's scare-prank skills had improved rapidly. Unfortunately, Sato and the others — who were constantly dragged into watching those horror movies with it — had grown just as rapidly in psychological endurance.
It was worth mentioning that Misdreavus never dared to watch horror movies alone.
Because of that, these sudden scare attempts had become nothing more than daily pranks. Sato, Pikachu, and the others were completely used to them and felt no fear.
A minute later, Sato decided to head to the harbor. Captain Reggie was a decent man who had shown him plenty of goodwill. Now that the captain seemed to be in trouble, it was only right to help if he could.
Using his psychic teleportation ability, Sato left the inn with all his Pokémon and made his way quickly toward the port.
Meanwhile, at the harbor in Slateport, Captain Reggie leaned against the railing of his cruise ship, pipe in hand, staring up at the brilliant night sky. His back carried a quiet loneliness.
Through the network of connections he had built up over decades within the League, Reggie had finally learned the exact whereabouts of his old friend Todd. But he also realized that, with his current strength, rescuing Todd was impossible. Worse, he would likely end up losing his own life in the attempt.
He was already seventy-two years old. If he had been twenty years younger, he would have gone to challenge Team Aqua himself, fully confident he could rescue Todd alone.
But time had worn him and his once-powerful Elite-Four tier Pokémon down. Their prime had long since passed. Even moderate battles strained their bodies now.
The Ghost Ship incident had already made it clear to him: he could no longer deny the toll of age.
Among his peers, only two still barely retained Champion-tier strength: Drake, the Dragon-type master, and Agatha, the Ghost-type master from Kanto.
As for himself — a former Elite-Four level Trainer — he was already part of the past. Truth be told, he regretted not having raised a Dragon-type or a Ghost-type Pokémon during his peak years. Otherwise, his situation today wouldn't be this pitiful.
Reggie knew he was unreliable now. The only hope lay in finding someone else to rescue Todd. But Todd was heavily guarded by Team Aqua, and even the League itself had never dared to claim it could ensure his safe extraction.
If others were sent, the chance of success would be even lower. A direct frontal assault was suicide. What he needed was a way to extract Todd without a fight.
In the end, he saw only one viable plan: send a reliable, quick-witted person to infiltrate the Team Aqua base, and then, during the League's assault, use the chaos to rescue Todd.
The question was: where to find such a reliable and clever person?
He had many subordinates, plenty reliable — but none particularly sharp-minded. His son was a hopeless wastrel, and though his granddaughter was quick-witted, she was only thirteen. He could never bear to risk her in such a dangerous mission.
After much thought, only one candidate came to mind: Tyler — the young Trainer who had played a decisive role in the Ghost Ship incident.
He had even asked some contacts within the League to investigate "Tyler's" identity, and learned that Sato was a top student at Goldenrod Academy, the best Pokémon academy in Johto. His wits were assured.
Reggie also knew Tyler wanted to establish himself firmly within the League. His request for a letter of recommendation, and his willingness to risk himself in the suppression of the recent Pokémon riot, were the clearest proof of that.
Most importantly, Tyler was alone, with no attachments holding him back. Ever since his so-called miraculous awakening, he had been driven by a fierce desire to grow stronger. As long as someone offered him a path to strength, convincing him to take risks wouldn't be hard.
"This time, I'll really have to bleed for it… That kid Tyler isn't easy to fool. I'll need to offer him something truly valuable if I expect him to take such a dangerous mission."
Reggie took a deep draw from his pipe, then exhaled two thin streams of white smoke through his nose. As he thought about the way Sato had looked at the silver feather in his vault, his old face tightened with pain. His heart ached.
But then he thought of his brother-in-arms, currently in mortal danger. He forced that reluctance aside.
About ten minutes later, Sato finally arrived at Slateport Harbor in a rare midnight taxi. With the aid of his psychic senses, he quickly located Reggie, who was leaning against the ship's railing, letting the sea breeze wash over him.
"Captain, you called me here so late. Is something urgent? If there's any way I can help, please don't hesitate. As long as it's within my power, I'll do everything I can."
Climbing the rope ladder Reggie had prepared, Sato boarded the cruise ship, strode to the old captain's side, and asked respectfully. His face showed not a trace of impatience or displeasure.