A Pokémon already grown into its strength, unless it happens to be a special species, never fetches a good price.
A low-ranking Trainer who buys one cannot tame it. A strong, high-ranking Trainer can, but it takes time for the two of them to settle together, and there is always the danger of the Pokémon turning on him.
Which is why the price of a fully grown Pokémon is never very high and never very low.
Trainers who need fighting strength in a hurry are fond of this kind of Pokémon, and so are Trainers with confidence in themselves.
Lot followed lot on the platform, and before long they came to the Rhydon Vance had supplied.
"A Rhydon. Elite-class strength, assessed as lightly injured, with no permanent disability — you may all set your minds at rest. Limited potential, but Elite-class strength all the same. Opening bid six hundred thousand."
This time it was the male auctioneer who spoke, running through the Rhydon at some length.
"Roar—"
The Rhydon bellowed, unhappy at being handled this way. Then some mysterious force came down on it, and the Rhydon went calm again and stood quietly in its cage.
"Some temper on it. I like that. I happen to need an Elite-class Pokémon, so I'll take this Rhydon. Eight hundred thousand."
A powerfully built man stood and said it loudly, apparently well satisfied with the Rhydon.
"Is that so? I rather like it myself. A million."
"Hmph. One million two hundred thousand."
The big man raised again.
In the end the Rhydon went to him at one and a half million.
Vance's face said he could not have cared less. The Rhydon had never been his anyway, and at the time it had been trying to kill him; whatever price it went for cost him nothing.
One and a half million was a decent result.
A dozen or more treasures came up after that, and every one of them sold above market price.
The Quillon family had shown something of their reach with this auction, and it left an impression on everyone there.
If a party auction ran to this, what would one of their proper large-scale auctions be like?
Vance and the others had learned something, and had a taste of how the people above other people lived.
"Heh heh. Well? Worth coming, wasn't it?"
Seeing the two of them wearing the look of men who had just seen something new, Ambrose said it smugly.
"Not bad."
Vance said, with a slight nod.
"I thought it was all right too."
Emery added.
At that Ambrose sidled over grinning and laid a hand on Emery's shoulder.
"All right? I saw you back there having a fine old time with those young ladies. Your face was bright red, as I recall. What were you talking about, to turn a face that colour? Something unmentionable?" He waggled his eyebrows as he said it.
"What nonsense. My face was not red."
Emery shot back.
"Heh heh. We're all men here. I understand."
Ambrose said it in his most insufferable manner, and gave him a look that said everything.
"What rubbish is this. I was gathering intelligence. Which beats hovering round those old women the way you were."
"Pfft. Yes, yes, intelligence, I was gathering intelligence too. As for the 'old women' — don't you think they beat those girls? All green and unripe, that lot. A grown woman is the sweeter thing. She talks well and she knows a great deal."
Then Ambrose assumed the manner of a senior man and said to Emery in a weighty tone, "You're young yet, you don't understand the subtleties of it. When you get to my age and have seen what I've seen, you'll understand."
"Don't put on that act with me. Young girls are the real truth of it."
"No, no, no. A young married woman is where a man comes to rest. Oh — I have it. You're a virgin, aren't you. Ha ha ha."
Emery went red at that, wanting to argue back and not knowing how.
"Boss, you say something. Girls or young wives?" Ambrose dragged Vance, who had been watching from the side, into it, and put the question to him.
"Ahem. I'd say there's good and bad in both." Vance coughed and answered.
"And if you had to choose?"
Ambrose pressed.
"Choose? Why would I choose? Choosing is for schoolchildren. I'll take all of it!"
"Oh. I have it. You're a virgin as well, boss."
Ambrose said it as though everything had become clear, and laughed at him.
"You've guessed right. Sadly there's no prize."
"Ha ha ha. No hurry, brothers. When the chance comes I'll take you both out and show you. Let you find out for yourselves."
"All right, all right. It's nearly over. Go and collect the auction money."
"Right."
Ambrose got up and went backstage to collect what the auction had brought in. The Quillon family had run it to make a name for themselves and had charged no commission, so it all came through in full.
"Let's go."
Vance stood, collected Emery, and left without a word to Ambrose.
Outside the estate they got into the car they had driven there, started the engine and waited.
Ambrose, with the auction money in hand, turned round to find the two of them gone, and left as well.
"Here he comes."
"Then let's be off."
Vance put his foot down, the engine roared, and the car pulled away fast.
"I'm not in the car. Hey — hey! I'm not in the car yet!"
Ambrose charged after it, and all he got for it was a faceful of exhaust.
"Pah, pah, pah. All I did was call him a virgin. Is that worth this? Petty, the pair of them." Ambrose spat a few times and said it bitterly, thinking privately that the two little wretches could not take a joke.
"Wait. I nearly forgot." Ambrose remembered something from the party. "I have an appointment with a lady."
With that he went back to the reception hall — and stood there staring. Almost everyone had gone. What was left was a few slips of girls, and he had no interest in those.
"Wasted, the whole thing wasted. I let it go to my head just now. What was I doing chasing those two little wretches?" Ambrose reckoned it a dead loss, and could only walk out of the hall and set off along the road alone.
There were no taxis to be had anywhere near that grand estate, so Ambrose went on foot.
"Damn it. Turning down a lift from someone as handsome as me. No wonder you'll never be rich." Ambrose grumbled and swore as he went. He had thought about cadging a ride earlier, and been refused.
"And those two little wretches, they really are..."
Just as he was about to say it, light fell on him from behind and a horn sounded.
"Beep, beep—"
Two heads came out of the car: Vance and Emery, come back.
"Really are what, fatty? I thought I heard you cursing us just now."
"Not at all. I said you really are handsome." And with that he had the door open and was in the car at remarkable speed.
"Heh—"
Vance started the car, chuckling, and drove on.
They had not gone far when they left; it had only been to tease the fat man. Then they had seen him walking on his own and come back for him.
"Where are those ladies of yours? Why are you walking by yourself? You were getting on so well with them back there."
Vance brought it up in the car.
"Ah. Something came up. I missed them."
Ambrose said gloomily.
"Ha ha ha."
The other two laughed quietly, and they went back to their lodgings in Celadon City.