The deeper Silas ventured into Rusturf Tunnel, the more cautious he became.
The farther one went, the more common Poison-types became and of all the status conditions in the wild, poison was the one every trainer dreaded most.
Burns, freezes, paralysis, sleep -those were obvious. You saw them, you treated them, and you moved on. But poison… poison lingered.
Some toxins struck immediately. Others lay dormant in the body, hidden, waiting to erupt hours later.
Unseen. Unpredictable. Deadly.
It was no wonder Poison-type Pokémon had a reputation as one of the most dangerous encounters in the wilderness.
Silas passed by an old campsite in one fork of the tunnel. A fire pit, cold and filled with ash, marked where someone had camped not long ago. His eyes narrowed.
At another fork, something else caught his eye. A rough wooden sign jutted from the stone, scrawled with charcoal:
Temporary camp. Enter at your own risk. Intruders will be attacked.
Silas frowned. Trainers often claimed shallow words, already-cleared sub-tunnels as temporary bases. Nothing unusual there. He turned to leave-
-but stopped.
Hurried footsteps echoed from inside.
Silas gripped the alloy shovel strapped to his side. Murkrow's wingbeats softened, the crow's sharp eyes fixed on the passage, ready to strike. Even Eevee, ears flat, crouched closer to Silas's leg.
A figure appeared.
A middle-aged man, backpack slung across his shoulders, stepped out. His eyes widened when he saw Silas, and his hands tightened on the shovel he carried. Behind him padded a Marill, its round ears twitching, ready to react.
For a heartbeat the two sides tensed, staring each other down.
Then the man forced a smile.
"Easy there, kid," he said, raising a hand in mock reassurance. He moved deliberately, placing himself between Silas and the tunnel. "No need to go this way. The passage collapsed. Landslide blocked it."
He gestured back with his thumb. "Better take another route."
Silas took two steps back, putting safe distance between them. Outwardly, his expression softened, almost innocent. But his mind had already caught the details.
The man's clothes were drenched. Droplets dripped steadily from his cuffs. And beneath the damp stench of stone and mold… another smell lingered.
Iron. Blood.
Subtle, almost gone but Silas knew that scent. The sea had taught him well: the metallic tang of blood carried even when mixed with water. He flicked his headlamp downward. For just an instant the beam caught the man's boots.
A smear of red. A faint trail at the sole.
Not Pokémon blood but Human blood.
Silas quickly angled the light away, pretending not to notice. His heart slowed, cold as steel.
"I see," he said lightly. "Thanks for the warning, uncle. I'll head another way. Sorry to trouble you."
He turned, leading Eevee and Murkrow down a different passage. But as he moved, he tried to glance sideways, toward the forbidden tunnel.
The man noticed. Subtly, he shifted his stance, body blocking the view. The casual but deliberate motion said everything: he was hiding something.
....
Silas crouched in another tunnel, leaning against the rock wall. His dark eyes gleamed in the lamplight.
'That man… he's no ordinary traveler.
There's something in that side passage he doesn't want anyone to be seen. Something he killed for.'
After waiting long enough to be sure the man had moved on, Silas doubled back. The fork was empty now. The tunnel unguarded.
Silas smiled faintly, lips curved in a predator's grin. Without a sound, he slipped inside.
There was no landslide.
The tunnel extended only a short way before opening into a pit about the size of a small room. The walls were scarred by pickaxes, littered with rubbish and traces of habitation.
"Eevee, sniff around," Silas whispered.
"Vee…"
Eevee's nose twitched. She padded forward hesitantly, then stopped at a patch of earth where the ground bulged unnaturally. She pawed it once, then looked back at him with a whimper.
Silas's eyes narrowed. He unslung his alloy shovel. The blade bit into the dirt.
One strike. Two.
By the third, something pale was unearthed.
A bone. Human.
Silas dug faster. Eevee whined, tail low, but stayed close. Murkrow watched silently, his head cocked, eyes gleaming.
Piece by piece, the earth gave up its secret.
A charred, mutilated corpse, hacked into sections. Arms, legs, a shattered skull. Together, they formed the remains of a single man.
Silas stared at the bones, unflinching. His lips thinned.
"Not a landslide," he murmured. "A burial."
Whether it had been greed over rare ore, betrayal between partners, or a feud carried into the depths - he didn't know. And really didn't care.
The truth was simple: the "uncle" had blood on his hands.
Silas unclipped two Poké Balls from his belt. With a flash, the Grimer he'd captured earlier slithered out.
"Grimer-consume it."
"Griiimeer…"
The sludge Pokémon quivered with glee, then engulfed the remains, flesh and bone dissolving into foul ooze. Eevee yelped in horror, retreating behind Silas's leg. Murkrow cawed once, sharp and cold, approving.
When the last trace was gone, Silas used the shovel to cover the disturbed soil. The grave sealed, he turned away.
...
As he stepped out of the tunnel, the same man was waiting.
He stood in the center of the fork, shovel in hand, Marill at his side. His kindly smile was gone.
"You lied," Silas said evenly. "There was no landslide."
The man scratched his head, feigning confusion. "Is that so? Maybe you took the wrong path. Lots of forks down here."
The air thickened. Both of them stared at each other, hands drifting toward their belts. Slowly, they widened the gap, until each stood on opposite sides of the fork.
The man's mask dropped. His face twisted, with crazy smile curdling into something cruel.
"Kid," he said, voice low and cold. "You didn't… see anything, did you?"
Silas's lips curved. He tapped his shovel against the ground, eyes glinting.
"I saw enough," he said softly. "A good show."
The man's eyes bulged. He bared his teeth, rage slipping through. "What did you see?! What do you know?!"
Silas didn't answer. He only glanced at the man's heavy backpack, at the faint stains at his boots. His thoughts were darker still.
'So this is what trainers will do… for treasure.'
And in the depths of Rusturf Tunnel, under the weight of stone and silence, two predators faced each other, both knowing only one could walk away.
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(End of chapter)