After finalizing their deal and working out a plan, Rhea and Marcy headed for his shop, with Alex and Marcy's three escorts following behind. It turned out the women were his store's clerks, employees he intended to treat for the evening.
They made their way to a nondescript storefront near the outskirts of the city, the kind of place that blended so seamlessly into its surroundings that it might be overlooked entirely. From the outside, it looked no different from the less popular local clothing shops. Inside, the space was subtle and high end, more a private atelier than a conventional retail outlet, with no loud displays, garish signage, or attempts to lure passersby, everything about it suggesting discretion.
What it lacked in spectacle, it more than compensated for in craftsmanship. The suits on display were immaculately tailored, each piece structured with razor sharp lines and balanced proportions. The shoulders were sculpted without stiffness and the waists subtly tapered to create a clean silhouette. Fabrics ranged from deep charcoal and midnight navy spider silk to lighter, breathable blends suitable for warmer climates. The stitching was tight and precise, the lapels elegantly rolled, and the cuffs finished with functional buttons, a detail that signaled true bespoke work rather than mass production. Even the drape of the trousers suggested careful measurement and experienced hands.
Alex ran his fingers along one sleeve, appreciating the weight and texture. The cuts were modern but restrained, power without ostentation. Every suit looked as though it had been designed for someone accustomed to command attention without asking for it.
He had to admit, he wanted to buy out the whole store, which the clerks were more than happy to endorse, at least until Marcy shooed them away, stating that the custom suits he would be making would be all Alex would ever need to wear.
Instead, he led Alex and Rhea to the back of the shop and opened a concealed door hidden inside one of the changing rooms. It revealed an elevator that descended for a few seconds before opening into what Alex could only describe as an evil lair, except it was filled with suits, raw materials, and an assortment of gadgets.
"Arceus! Is that an exploding pen?" Rhea exclaimed, rushing to a display case along the wall. "Razor wire ring, Thunder Wave cuff links, gasp, hidden knife in the shoes!"
"Toxic blade in the shoes. The more times you stab someone, the faster they die," Marcy corrected. "Ignore those. They were from my younger years, when I fancied myself a capable inventor."
"You're the same as me!" Rhea exclaimed.
"Hardly. I found my passion in suits once that phase passed. Now I simply dabble out of nostalgia rather than passion."
He led them into a separate room where they were met with a high tech loom constructed from Champion ranked materials. Along the ceiling and walls were clustered nests of thick webbing that housed a dozen Elite ranked Ariados, each one peering down curiously at the visitors below.
"These are my babies," Marcy said with unmistakable pride. "They produce the finest silk for my regular suits, the ones you saw out in the shop. I feed their dyed threads into this loom to produce the fabric I need before cutting and tailoring it."
"However, for our little project, we will not be using their services. They simply aren't strong enough to produce the grade of material we require. At minimum, they would need to be Master rank to generate silk suitable for Champion ranked applications."
"I love it here!" Rhea exclaimed. "Can I stay over? There's so much to go over, and I can't wait."
"Knock yourself out, princess," Marcy said. "There are a few sleeping quarters you can use while you're here."
Rhea turned to Alex as if asking for permission and received a nod in return. She was more than strong enough to defend herself, so he wasn't particularly worried. Besides, he trusted Marcy. The man's passion would give way to professionalism rather than short sighted gains.
"You two enjoy yourselves," Alex said. "I'll take care of our last mission here starting tomorrow. It shouldn't take more than a few days to sort out."
"Yay!" Rhea cheered.
"Sexy," Marcy commented before asking, "Who are you gunning for?"
"The Veins," Alex answered.
"Those wannabe drug lords? Good riddance. They've been stifling the creative scene with their drugs. It'll be a nice change of pace for the city to have more creatives sober up."
"Do you have any tips?"
"No. I'm unfamiliar with the lowlife scene. You'll have to handle it yourself."
"No problem."
Alex looked around once more, ensuring Rhea was comfortable before deciding to leave for the night. He booked a room at an Umbraline run luxury hotel in the city, intending to start fresh early the next morning.
As for his plan, it was relatively simple with Gardevoir's help. All he needed was to take out the right string of underlings until he reached the top of the food chain. Once he dismantled the drug lords and their production operation, the lowlifes below them would naturally scatter, at least until another set of drug lords inevitably took their place in the future. Such was the inevitability of human nature.
Early the next morning, Alex started strong by targeting a drug den he had scoped out the day before. He walked in confidently, ignoring the fear, bravado, and threats around him, and had Gardevoir quickly scan the memories of a random addict. That's when they ran into an unexpected problem.
"What do you mean you can't understand their mind?" Alex asked after Gardevoir explained.
It turned out that the minds of drug addicts were wired differently from others. Their dependence on drugs seemed to fundamentally reshape their thoughts, making it difficult for Gardevoir to navigate.
Normally, Gardevoir explained, a human mind is like a healthy tree. The roots hold core memories, the trunk represents consciousness, and the branches and leaves carry desires and personality traits. A drug addict's mind, however, was like a rotten tree. Its roots were weak and fragmented, the trunk decayed from within, and the branches and leaves leaned heavily to one side, bending overwhelmingly toward the pursuit of the next high.
As a result, Gardevoir struggled to read their memories. Instead of clear facts, she mostly encountered hallucinations and distorted perceptions, which made understanding them far more difficult than anticipated.
In the end, Alex had to leave the drug den empty-handed. He could have interrogated the addicts the old-fashioned way or staked out the place, but he found both approaches to be too much work. Instead, he returned to the same blind search as before, with Gardevoir reading surface thoughts until they randomly tracked down a dealer going about their business.
He found many throughout the day but none of them belonged to The Veins. Instead, he encountered plenty of their rivals, who mostly dealt with the less harmful drugs, such as Cannabis sativa, MDMA, or amphetamine salts.
Fortunately, he managed to land a hit by evening near a nightclub that was just about to open. He ran into a group of gangsters, for lack of a better word. They were muscular, intimidating by human standards, and moved with a confidence that suggested they were used to getting what they wanted without question. Their eyes scanned the street with a mix of suspicion and boredom, hands never straying far from the weapons tucked into their pants. Alex noted the tension in their stances, the way they subtly leaned toward any sudden sounds, clearly accustomed to confrontation.
From a distance, he had Gardevoir read their surface thoughts as they passed by. She revealed that they were focused on scoring inside the nightclub, selling their products to the patrons while keeping watch for any competition encroaching on their territory.
He didn't confront them after that. There was no need, as one of them was particularly upset with their contact over where the drugs had come from. A name and an address were noted, and their contact would be home in the evening, easy pickings for Alex to target next.
He quickly made his way to the address and found what appeared to be an ordinary home, a loving wife, two children, a few cute Pokémon running around in the back yard, and the man in question, clean, steady, and looking every bit like an unassuming father with his life together. From an outsider's perspective, there was no hint that he was the ringleader controlling the entire southwest side of Nacrene City.
Deciding not to traumatize such a happy family, Alex stood on the walkway in front of the house and briefly flashed his aura as a warning. As expected, the man ran out and met him, unwilling to endanger his family.
"Hello, sir. What can I do for you?" he asked nervously.
"Your time is up," Alex said simply, gesturing for the man to approach like a grim reaper collecting his soul.
The man didn't resist. He recognized a Champion ranked aura when he felt it. There was no escaping this threat, unlike the others he had killed in his rise through the drug trade.
"Can you please… just spare my family?"
"So long as I get what I want."
He nodded and stepped forward without complaint, allowing Gardevoir to read all his memories. From them, she uncovered another ring leader in the city, one layer higher in the hierarchy. It seemed the operation was far more widespread than Alex had initially realized.
Once the memory reading was complete, Alex patted the man on the shoulder and offered some advice.
"I suggest you take your family out of the city and start fresh with a better life. Otherwise, the next person who comes might not be so merciful."
He left shortly after, moving on to his next target.
The man slumped to the ground, breathing deeply, seriously considering Alex's words. He may have been an Expert ranked trainer, able to navigate the city's drug trade with ease, but men of this grim reaper's caliber were far beyond his reach. These were the types of people their bosses feared, not someone a middleman for middlemen like him was ever expected to meet.
In the end, he returned home, ate dinner with his family, and resolved to move on with life. As for his bosses, they could go fuck themselves. He highly doubted they would be alive to come after him once the grim reaper was done with them.
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