"Congratulations, Gastly... or should I say, Haunter!"Jack smiled, holding the newly evolved Pokémon close.
Feeling Jack's warmth and care, Haunter gently wrapped his spectral hands around his trainer in return. In that moment, it was hard to believe this tender creature was feared as a ghost.
Once he'd calmed his excitement, Jack opened his system interface to check Haunter's new stats:
Pokémon: Haunter
Gender: Male
Ability: Levitate
Level: 26 (Excellent
)Base Skills: Confuse Ray (Lv.3), Lick (Lv.3), Hypnosis (Lv.3), Mean Look (Lv.3), Payback (Lv.1), Grudge (Lv.1), Curse (Lv.1), Hex (Lv.1), Shadow Ball (Lv.1)
Taught Skill: Taunt (Lv.2)
Inherited Skills: Disable (Lv.3), Haze (Lv.3), Spite (Lv.3)
Despite evolving, Haunter's level hadn't changed—proof that the system's stat recalibration focused on strengthening the Pokémon's foundations, not inflating numbers. That suited Jack just fine. It meant he could now enhance Haunter's power without worrying about hidden weaknesses.
Skill upgrades still followed the usual system rules: each level-up required exponentially more experience. From 10 XP for the first level, to 100 for the next, then 1,000—meaning Haunter's growth would demand serious investment. Jack, with only 8,000 experience points currently, chose not to waste them hastily. He'd rather save them for more critical enhancements later.
Fortunately, many of the bounty hunters Willy recruited could be traced back to a certain job listing website Jack knew well. That site belonged to none other than the Hunter Guild, a powerful, cross-regional network operating in the shadows.
The Hunter Guild's strength lay in five core advantages:
Anonymity – The identity of every registered Hunter is strictly protected.
Accessibility – Anyone can join. Power doesn't matter—results do.
Independence – The Guild doesn't pry into your past or strong-arm you into service.
Opportunity – For those without League ties or resources, it offers a legitimate path to power.
Secrecy – Without its unmatched discretion, the Guild would never have grown so large.
Because of these perks, even members of the Pokémon League and underground groups like Team Rocket sometimes registered as Hunters. Jack himself had once signed up. Though he rarely hunted wild Pokémon, he used missions to dispose of targets—selling any captured Pokémon for resources without fear of League enforcement.
At his current rate, Jack only needed to complete two more E-rank missions to unlock Haunter's next upgrade. But before returning to town, he wanted to give Haunter some field time. Letting the newly evolved Pokémon test his limits was the best way to ensure he wouldn't falter in real combat.
Meanwhile, Willy sat in his safehouse, absentmindedly flipping a lighter open and shut, watching the flame flicker. He couldn't shake the feeling that Ghost Fox—Jack—was still out there, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
His instincts were screaming, honed from years of life-or-death encounters. But he forced himself to wait. Just one more week, he told himself. If nothing happened by then, he'd fake his own death and disappear for good. Better to let the Ghost Fox believe he'd escaped than to keep playing defense indefinitely.
Even so, Willy remained hyper-vigilant. Every night, he rotated his guards and changed their posts, determined to stay one step ahead of any ambush.
Unfortunately, he didn't realize that the very walls of his safehouse held Jack's hidden surveillance cameras. His every move had already been watched, recorded, and analyzed.
"Go," Jack whispered to Haunter, "You've got a busy night ahead of you."
Melded with the shadows, Haunter glided silently into the town.
Jack had exchanged for twenty high-grade bombs from the system—enough firepower to leave a lasting message. Following Jack's remote instructions, Haunter phased through buildings and planted camouflaged explosives at key locations.
"Take your time," Jack had said. "One mistake and the whole plan falls apart."
By 3 a.m., Haunter had successfully deployed fifteen bombs. But Jack didn't strike right away. He waited patiently. The window between 4 and 5 a.m. was when humans were at their most sluggish. That's when the guards would be groggiest, slowest to react.
Meanwhile, in his bedroom, Willy suddenly jolted awake.
His heart pounded like a war drum—he felt something was wrong.
He immediately radioed his team. But the surveillance operators reported no abnormalities.
Trying to calm himself, Willy reached for a glass of water... and that's when it happened.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion split the early morning silence.
Willy spun toward the window just in time to see a brilliant fireball erupt in the distance—followed by another. And another. The night sky lit up like a battlefield of fireworks.
But this show wasn't meant to entertain.
It was meant to kill.