Enzo leaned against the cold brick wall behind the warehouse, far from the ears of his subordinates. The phone weighed in his hand like a block of lead. On the screen, Executive Nero's number glowed ominously.
He took a deep breath, prayed to Arceus that Nero was in a good mood, and pressed the call button.
It rang once. It rang twice.
"Enzo," Executive Nero's voice answered, cold and calm, without any preamble. "This 'distraction plan' of yours better not involve robbing my favorite bakery in Cerulean. Because if it does, I will have to kill you personally."
Enzo swallowed hard, keeping his posture rigid, even though no one could see him.
"Executive Nero," Enzo began, his voice steady. "I called to apologize for my behavior. And for the behavior of my team. One thing led to another... we lost control. It won't happen again."
There was a silence on the other end of the line. Enzo braced himself for the screaming.
"Fine," Nero sighed, his tone shifting to something more practical. "As long as there are no problems for the organization and the police don't link anything to us, I'll let it slide. But don't forget that we still need the real distraction plan. You have one week."
"I am working on it with the team. We will request the resources soon," Enzo assured him.
"Good," Nero said. And then, to Enzo's surprise, the executive's voice took on an almost... amused tone. "You know, Enzo, I'm not angry. The Boss is actually very happy with you."
Enzo frowned, confused. "Happy? Why?"
"Win or lose this tournament, you've already made a name for yourself, and the Boss has made a lot of money recently thanks to you."
"How?"
"The Boss predicted that with your explosive popularity and the #JusticeForDarkTypes hashtag, the demand for Dark Type Pokémon would skyrocket," Nero explained. "He bought massive stock before the tournament started. The prices of Dark Types have increased by 120% in the last 48 hours. You are a marketing machine, Vance."
Enzo slapped his hand against his forehead hard. I am an idiot, he thought. Of course. Giovanni is a genius. While I was playing around, he monetized my image. He made millions while I was drunk eating cake...
He took a deep breath, and a cold, calculating smile spread across his face.
Actually, this was perfect.
Let Giovanni make his millions. The richer the Boss became, the more resources he would have to fund Enzo's inevitable expansion into Hoenn. He needed Team Rocket to be a financial fortress. He needed a base strong enough to withstand the wars that were coming.
Because Enzo knew, with absolute certainty, that he was no longer flying under the radar. If he was making this much noise, monsters like Cynthia had surely already noticed him.
"Executive Nero," Enzo said, the plan solidifying in his mind. "As a final apology from me... I offer a piece of information. Something worth more than a 120% increase. Something for your ears and the Boss's ears only."
"I'm listening," Nero said, his curiosity piqued. "Let's see what you have."
Enzo typed quickly on his device while he spoke. "I just sent you a list."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
"Vance," Nero said slowly, sounding unimpressed. "Except for Ralts, these are common Normal types. Some are useless. Why would the Boss want to buy a warehouse full of Jigglypuffs?"
"Because they aren't Normal types," Enzo dropped the bomb. "Professor Leni and I found something huge. We discovered an anomaly. A biological mutation hidden in these species."
"A mutation?"
"A new type, sir," Enzo lied smoothly, attributing his knowledge to research. "We call it the Fairy Type."
"Fairy?" Nero scoffed. "Sounds like a bedtime story."
"It won't be a story when they realize what it does," Enzo said, his voice deadly serious. "This new type... it is immune to Dragons."
Nero went silent. The scoffing stopped. In the world of Pokémon, anything that countered Dragon-types was the Holy Grail, it was the reason why Ice-types were so expensive.
"You are lying," Nero said.
"I am not," Enzo said, smiling calculatedly. "I'm telling you that if the Boss buys these 'useless' Pokémon now for pennies," he said, lowering his voice to seal the deal, "when I reveal this new type during the tournament... their value won't go up 120%. It will go up 1000%."
Enzo gripped the phone tighter. "I am so confident in this, sir, that I have been buying them myself. For the last week, I've been using my winnings to buy every Clefairy and Jigglypuff I can find in Kanto. I'm all in. Please tell the Boss that the next goldmine is the 'Dragon Slayer' market. And right now, nobody knows it exists but us."
There was a pause. Then Nero laughed, with a greedy, impressed laugh. "Fine."
"I'll pass the information along immediately," Nero said, his tone shifting entirely to business. "Good luck in the semi-finals, Vance. And put down the bottle."
The call ended.
Enzo put his phone away and walked back into the warehouse. The team was gathered around a table covered in city maps.
Proton stood with his arms crossed, staring at the map with cold, professional intensity. Ronnie was leaning back in his chair, tapping a pencil on the table, looking restless. Professor Leni was adjusting his thick glasses, staring at the whiteboard.
"Well?" Proton asked, his voice crisp. "Do we still have jobs?"
Enzo smiled, a calm mask over his internal stress. "It went better than expected. The Boss is rich. And we are alive."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the room.
"But," Enzo continued, walking to the head of the table, "Nero wants a giant distraction. Something that diverts police attention from the entire region. We need ideas."
Ronnie slammed his hand on the table. "I know! Let's rob the Cerulean Gym. Strip it bare. I hate that Daisy... She thinks she's so special just because she gives out badges."
Enzo looked at him flatly. "That's too small, Ronnie. That's petty revenge, not a distraction."
"Okay, okay," Ronnie tried again. "What if we release, like, 50 Rattatas in the Celadon Department Store? Chaos everywhere!"
Enzo shook his head. "Still too small. We need something giant." He turned to the scientist. "Leni? Give me something big."
Professor Leni pushed his glasses up his nose and pointed to a diagram he had drawn. "I could synthesize a massive atmospheric pressure system. It would create a super-dense fog that would cover the entire Kanto region. No visibility for miles."
Enzo raised an eyebrow. "That sounds good. How long to make it?"
"Given the chemical reactions required..." Leni calculated on his fingers. "About one year."
Enzo sighed. "We don't have a year, Leni. We have a week."
"Oh," Leni slumped shoulders. "Then... sorry. It won't work."
Suddenly, a sharp, high-pitched voice drilled directly into Enzo's skull via telepathy. Ask him! Ask him! It's perfect! We were born for this!
Enzo froze. Then, a second voice followed—deep, slow, and incredibly stupid. Master... maybe we can just... boom?
Enzo slowly turned his head toward the corner where Weezing was floating. He didn't say a word. He just fixed the gas ball with a stare so cold it could freeze water.
Weezing's heads shrank back. "Ok..." the slow head burbled aloud. "Sad."
Enzo turned back to the team. "Keep thinking. I'll think too. This is important. If we fail to complete this mission, Team Rocket itself could be in danger."
Proton frowned, looking at a rejected file on the table. "But why is the Beedrill Swarm idea so bad? It's effective."
Enzo's expression darkened. "First," Enzo said sharply, "I don't trust the guy who came up with that plan. I think he has bad intentions for us. Second... sending angry Beedrills all over Kanto is too cruel. Innocent lives will be lost. And when Kanto finds out it was Team Rocket, the entire region will unite to destroy us. That is not good for business."
Enzo pointed at the map. "We need something giant, but localized. Something that demands the attention of the whole region without starting a war against the public."
Proton thought for a second. "Then... what if your Porygon2 hacks into the Kanto Gym systems? We could overload their generators and blow up several League facilities at once."
Enzo looked at him, shrugged, and shook his head. "Do you think they don't have Porygons on their side too? Their cyber-security would shut us down in seconds."
The room fell silent. They were stuck.
"Okay," Enzo said, checking his watch. "Let's think about this together later. Keep brainstorming."
He grabbed his jacket. "I have a dinner to attend."
He pulled out his phone to call Steven Stone.
The line rang three times before a polite, but guarded voice answered. "This is a private line. Who is calling?"
"Steven, it's Enzo," he said, leaning against a crate. "Look, I sorted things out. I can make it to dinner after all."
"Enzo! That's great news," Steven's voice instantly warmed up, losing the wariness. "Since you are the local, you pick the place. Where should we meet?"
Enzo thought for a second. He remembered the place he took Lilian, a place in the city that felt truly high-class.
"The Cerulean Summit," Enzo said. "It's a bit fancy, but the food is good."
"The Summit it is," Steven agreed effortlessly. "See you at 8:00 PM."
Enzo arrived. As he walked toward the glass doors, he felt it. The change in the air.
People on the street stopped to look. He heard whispers trailing behind him like a wake. "It's him.""That's Enzo.""The Dark Type guy."
Some pointed with excitement, others crossed the street to avoid him. For the first time, Enzo realized he wasn't just a participant anymore, he was famous. It was a strange, heavy sensation, one he wasn't sure he liked.
He took the elevator. When the doors slid open, the atmosphere shifted again.
The restaurant was filled with the city's elite. As Enzo walked through the dining hall, the chatter died down. Heads turned. Some patrons looked at him with undisguised fear, having seen the brutality of his matches on TV. Others looked at him with curious, analyzing eyes, assessing the "wild animal" that had been let into their sanctuary. A few simply ignored him with the practiced arrogance of old money.
Enzo ignored them all. He kept his head high, adjusting the collar of his best clean shirt, and walked straight to the reserved table on the balcony.
Steven Stone was already there. The young heir to the Devon Corporation was wearing a casual suit that probably cost more than the entire warehouse Enzo lived in.
"Enzo," Steven smiled, standing up to shake his hand, oblivious to the tension in the room. "I'm glad you came. Excellent choice of venue."
"Hi, Steven." Enzo sat down.
Steven looked out at the panoramic view of the illuminated city below, genuinely impressed. "I have to say, this place is magnificent. It's my first time up here. The view is breathtaking."
"It is," Enzo agreed, pouring sparkling water for both of them.
Steven turned to him, curious. "You picked a hidden gem. Since you've lived in this city for seventeen years, I assume this is a regular spot for you?"
Enzo shook his head, laughing humorlessly. He took a sip of the water. "Actually, no. This is only my second time here. I came recently with a friend. Before that... never."
Steven looked surprised. "Never? You lived here for seventeen years right?"
Enzo looked down at the city lights.
"Before I had my first Pokémon... life was very different…" Enzo said, his voice low. "My only concern back then was finding something to eat."
Enzo met Steven's eyes, not ashamed, but brutally honest. "Being an orphan in this city can be very harsh. You don't tend to look at views, when you're busy looking at the ground, trying to survive."
Steven paused, the glass halfway to his lips. He lowered it slowly, a look of genuine respect replacing his casual demeanor. "Wow," Steven said softly. "You really have quite a story, Enzo."
"We all have stories," Enzo shrugged, pushing the heavy atmosphere away. "But tonight, let's talk about other things"
The dinner arrived—elaborate dishes Enzo could barely pronounce, but which tasted divine. When the plates were cleared, the conversation drifted to Steven's favorite topic: minerals.
Enzo saw his opening. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper. "Speaking of stones... Steven, you understand this stuff. Have you ever seen a stone of this type?"
He slid the drawing across the table. It was a crude sketch of a colorful sphere with a DNA-like symbol inside. A Mega Stone.
Steven picked up the paper. His smile vanished instantly. He choked slightly on his water. The young heir's grey eyes darted around the restaurant, scanning the nearby tables.
"Enzo..." Steven whispered, leaning over the table. "Where did you see this?"
"I know what they are," Enzo said, testing the waters. "But I wanted to know what you know."
Steven leaned in closer. "They are legendary stones. There are ancient legends, coming from the Draconid Clan in Hoenn, that say these stones allow a Pokémon to evolve beyond its final form."
Steven paused, his eyes shining. "The legend says the first Pokémon to use this power was Rayquaza."
The moment the name "Rayquaza" was spoken, Enzo felt a sharp stab of pain in the back of his head. He winced, massaging his temple, but ignored the sensation.
Interesting, Enzo thought. If Steven doesn't know how to use them, it means the secret is still restricted to the Tower of Mastery in Kalos and Zinnia's grandmother. No one knows about the Key Stone.
"Steven," Enzo said, lowering his voice. "What if I told you I know how they work?"
Steven's eyes widened. "You know?"
"I know a bit," Enzo said with a calculated smile. "But if I tell you, you can't tell anyone it was me. And if you find any of these stones... let me know so we can study them together."
"You have my word," Steven guaranteed, his voice dropping to a serious whisper. "And I pay for any information. If one of these stones works for my Metagross... you can name your price."
Enzo studied Steven's face for a moment, weighing the risk. He saw not just a rich boy, but a trainer desperate to push limits. He leaned in closer, bridging the gap between them.
"I know their name," Enzo admitted, the words heavy with secrets. "They are called Mega Stones."
Steven repeated the name, tasting the weight of it. "Mega Stones..."
"And I know the most important part," Enzo continued, lowering his voice to a whisper. "The mistake everyone makes is thinking the stone does all the work. It doesn't. On its own, that stone is just a pretty paperweight."
Steven frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It's a lock without a key, Steven," Enzo explained. "To make it work, you need a second stone. A trigger for the trainer. It's called a Key Stone."
Steven's eyes widened. "A second stone... logical. A circuit."
"Exactly," Enzo nodded. "And I know who is hiding the truth about them. There is an old man in Shalour City, in the Kalos region. His name is Gurkinn. He guards the secrets. He knows where the Key Stones are, and he hides it all from the world."
Enzo leaned back, sipping his water. "If I were you, Steven, I wouldn't wait for him to talk. I'd take the Devon jet to Kalos tomorrow."
"To talk to him?"
"No. To Buy them all…" Enzo corrected him with a shark-like grin. "Right now, those stones are just antiques in shops all over Kalos. Nobody knows their value except Gurkinn and the Draconids. Buy them all, Steven. Buy every strange stone you find in that region for pennies."
Steven absorbed every word. "Incredible..."
Steven smiled and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a black card with no identification and slid it across the table to Enzo.
"I had prepared this for the business proposal I was going to make next, but given this... consider this payment for the Mega Evolution information."
Enzo picked up the black card. "How much is on here?"
Steven replied calmly. "It has 2,000,000 Pokédollars."
Enzo nearly spat out his water. He coughed, wiping his lips. "Two... million? Just like that?"
Steven laughed. "Knowledge is power, Enzo. And you just gave me a lot of power."
Enzo slid the black card into his pocket, his fingers lingering on the cold plastic. He met Steven's gaze with unwavering intensity.
"I accept," Enzo said, his voice low. "But remember one thing, Steven. When you corner the market, when you finally get your hands on those Mega Stones... don't forget your promise"
Steven laughed again, a sharp, confident sound. He raised his glass in a mock toast.
"Rest assured, Enzo," Steven said, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "By the time I'm done in Kalos, no one in Hoenn will use a Mega Stone without we knowing."
Enzo grinned, a sharp, predatory expression that matched Steven's ambition perfectly. He raised his glass of sparkling water.
"Great," Enzo said, clinking his glass against Steven's. "I toast to that."
They drank, sealing an informal pact that would likely shape the future economy of the Pokémon world.
Steven set his glass down. The conspiratorial atmosphere evaporated instantly, replaced by a shift in his posture. He sat straighter, his expression turning business-like.
"Now," Steven said, smoothing his lapel. "That was for the information. But the business deal I actually invited you here for... is worth far more than two million."
"The deal is worth more?" Enzo asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. I wanted to discuss a cooperation with Devon Corporation's clothing line."
"Clothing?" Enzo asked, confused. "I'm not exactly a fashion icon, Steven."
"Exactly. That's the point. For a long time, Devon has been seen as an 'old' brand. Reliable, but boring. We are the last choice for young consumers," Steven explained. "I want to revolutionize the game. And I thought of someone like you."
Steven pointed a finger at Enzo. "When this tournament ends, you will be famous across Kanto. Your fame will spread to other regions. Your message of 'strength through struggle' is so strong it's inevitable. I want to create a clothing line inspired by you—rugged, urban, dark—and sell it to the public."
Enzo pondered. Devon knew how to capitalize on everything. "But do I have to be a model?" Enzo asked, wrinkling his nose. "Do I have to pose in a studio with makeup?"
Steven laughed heartily. "No, of course not. The marketing process is all artificial these days. You just need to wear the official brand clothing during the rest of the tournament and sign the contract. We handle the rest."
Steven signaled the bodyguard in the shadows. The large man stepped forward and placed another black card and a sleek leather folder on the table.
Enzo looked at the second card. "Does your family have a tree that grows these cards?"
Steven chuckled. "Let's just say Devon is doing very well."
Enzo picked up the contract. His eyes scanned the paper with surgical precision. In his past life as a Logistics and Material Grunt, his job was reading transport manifests and supplier contracts full of tricks and fine print. He knew exactly where to look for traps.
He read the exclusivity clauses. He read the image rights. There were no traps. No shady fine print.
It was a clean and incredibly generous contract. He would receive the 2,000,000 on the second card as an advance, plus 1% of the net profit from all sales.
It was enough money to fund his plan for Hoenn domination. Enough to build an army.
Enzo looked up from the paper, a slow grin forming on his face. He looked at the heir of Devon.
"Steven," Enzo said, his voice calm but his eyes shining with greed. "Do you happen to have a pen?"
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