The sun hung high over Pallet Town, bathing the quaint settlement in a warm, golden glow.
Gladion had arrived with a teleport at the town's edge. He knew the town had security to prevent unauthorised teleports inside the town.
He scanned the serene scenery—a fruit stand where an elderly woman haggled over Pecha Berries, a jogger trailed by a bounding Growlithe, kids chasing a Jigglypuff down a cobblestone path.
To the untrained eye, Pallet Town was a sleepy haven, but Gladion's keen senses caught the undercurrents.
'This place is a fortress disguised as a postcard,' he thought. Most residents were families of military officials, researchers, or retired League elites, strategically placed here for protection. Criminals like Team Rocket or Team Aqua would think twice before targeting hostages in a town crawling with rangers and soldiers.
His psychic aura brushed against the patrols—rangers with Arcanines prowling the outskirts, soldiers blending into the crowd, their Poké Balls ready.
'Security's tighter than a Snorlax in a Poké Mart aisle.' Pallet Town's unassuming charm was no accident; it was a safe haven for the Indigo League's most valuable assets, including its first Champion, Professor Samuel Oak, whose lab was Gladion's destination.
He walked towards Oak's lab. The lab itself loomed at the town's edge, a sprawling complex of white stone and glass.
Professor Oak stood at the entrance, his white lab coat pristine, a wide, excited smile creasing his weathered face. "Ah, young Gladion!" he called, waving enthusiastically, his voice warm as a Sunny Day move.
"It's nice to see you again. You always bring good surprises!" Gladion's smirk widened, 'He's fishing already for information. Well, he was a politician back in the day.'
"Good to see you in good health, Professor," Gladion replied, shaking Oak's hand. "Thanks for the invitation." Oak chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.
"I should be thanking you for accepting! A busy Gym Leader like you, making time for an old man? Come, let's get inside." He led Gladion through the lab's sliding doors, past humming machines and assistants scurrying with clipboards.
An assistant, a nervous girl with glasses, served tea and a tray of breakfast—Oran Berry scones and Moomoo Milk—before scurrying off. Gladion sat across from Oak in a cozy office. 'Time to play the game and let's hope I come on the winning side today.'
Oak sipped his tea, his eyes twinkling. "I'd love to go straight to seeing that Magmortar of yours—Arsenal, right? Bet he's a fiery beast! But I know you, young Gladion, didn't come just to show off Pokémon."
He leaned forward, his smile sly. "You've got a motive for accepting my invite, don't you?" Gladion's mind flickered with amusement. 'Sharp as ever.'
"How can you tell?" he asked, feigning innocence. Oak laughed, setting his scone down. "Please, young Gladion, I'm from the same generation as your grandfather, Maren. I've lived long enough to read ambition in a trainer's eyes. So young, earning so much, with such passion—I'm impressed!"
His flattery was smooth, calculated, designed to stroke Gladion's ego. 'Clever old coot,' Gladion thought, his smirk hidden behind a sip of tea. 'He's probing my desires to negotiate later. Thinks I'm a kid who'll fall for praise. Oh, old man, I'm gonna rob you blind, and you'll thank me for it.'
"Very well, Professor," Gladion said, leaning back, his voice cool. "I'm here for the manufacturing and selling rights to the Pokédex you're planning to launch."
Oak's eyebrows shot up, his tea pausing mid-sip, surprise flickering across his face before he masked it with a smile. "Aren't you a bold one?" he said, chuckling.
"The Pokédex is my legacy—billions of PokéDollars in the making. Why would I hand over those rights for, what, some Pokémon evolutions unseen in Indigo? You're selling the item required to evolve magmar into Magmortar, I presume—nice, but I'll have my own Magmortar to study soon enough." His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp, testing Gladion's resolve.
Gladion's smirk deepened, 'He thinks he's got the upper hand.'
"Of course, Professor, I'm offering something else." Oak's smile didn't waver, but Gladion sensed skepticism.
'He doesn't think I've got anything worth the Pokédex.' Gladion leaned forward, his voice low, deliberate. "What if I told you there's an undiscovered Pokémon type? And I have the knowledge—its strengths, weaknesses, everything." Oak's cup clattered onto its saucer, his eyes widening like a kid spotting a shiny Charizard.
"WHAT?!" he blurted, nearly knocking over the scones. He took a few deep breaths, composing himself, his hands gripping the desk. "Do you have proof? Evidence for such a claim?"
Gladion nodded, his smirk predatory. "Some known Pokémon have this typing. I know their type advantages, disadvantages, the works." Oak's eyes narrowed, his scientific mind kicking in. "That's not enough proof," he said, folding his arms.
Gladion smirk did not drop, "Then how about this? I've got a new Eevee evolution for that type."
Oak's jaw dropped, his composure shattering. He leaned forward, looking like a crazed child on a sugar rush. "Show me, show me!" he demanded, his voice a mix of excitement and desperation, hands waving wildly. Gladion leaned back, his smirk pure mischief. "Of course, Professor, but let's make a deal first."
--Author Notes------
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