At 58,888 Pokédollars per night, the undersea luxury suite was worth every cent.
It wasn't just the 360-degree underwater panoramic room spanning over 200 square meters—the VIP section of the Sky Restaurant at the very top of the Ocean Grand Hotel was also fully open to Kael, free of charge.
In addition, the hotel provided access to a private beach.
Of course, in a tourist hotspot like Porta Vista, private beaches were never particularly large.
Though the six-star Ocean Grand Hotel possessed astonishing financial power and had secured a vast stretch of coastline, much of it still had to be reserved as public beach space for ordinary guests. The portion allocated exclusively to VIP guests was, in truth, not extensive.
If not for the sinking of the S.S. Anne—and the fact that dozens of billionaires had been kidnapped by Team Rocket and remained missing—many wealthy travelers would not have hesitated to vacation here. Fearing abduction midway through their journey, they had stayed away for now. Otherwise, these private beaches would have long since been fully booked.
From the attendant, Kael received a gold-plated hard card engraved with the number 016, along with a key. The card granted him exclusive use of Private Beach No. 16 for the next ten days.
...
He began by indulging in a lavish feast at the VIP section of the Sky Restaurant.
Even the ordinary dining area in a six-star establishment served exquisite cuisine. The VIP-exclusive offerings were on an entirely different level.
Arctic ice shrimp from the Northern Seas—nearly transparent, each no larger than an adult's index finger. After a simple rinse, they were dipped lightly in green plum vinegar and eaten raw. The moment they touched the tongue, an icy, refreshing burst exploded across the taste buds, tinged with delicate sweetness. The shells were crisp enough to be eaten whole with the meat.
Caviar harvested from deep-sea silverfish—among the most premium and expensive varieties in the world. One hundred grams cost over 3,000 Pokédollars. Even in the VIP dining area, supply was limited daily. Arrive late, and it would be gone.
Black truffle puffs—made using an exceptionally rare black fungus mushroom. In the wild, this mushroom was scarce. Not only was it a culinary delicacy, but it also carried considerable medicinal value.
Long-term consumption significantly boosted immunity.
More importantly, it was rumored to enhance vitality—making it a highly prized ingredient among wealthy male elites.
A bite of ice shrimp awakened the appetite. A gentle bite into a black truffle puff released a fragrant, mellow crispness that flowed smoothly down the throat. Then a spoonful of deep-sea silverfish caviar—melting instantly upon entry, leaving behind a faint briny sweetness that lingered on the tongue, compelling one to close their eyes and savor the aftertaste.
The VIP section did not permit Pokémon inside.
Each dish was expensive, many served in limited quantities. Prepared by specially certified A-grade chefs, the meals were not only delicious but packed with energy-rich ingredients. Even someone with a large appetite would feel full after a single serving.
Kael, with his strong physique and carnivorous tendencies—especially at fifteen, a crucial stage of physical growth—normally ate far more than the average person.
Yet three black truffle puffs, a small bowl of caviar, and half a kilogram of Arctic ice shrimp left his stomach noticeably heavier.
If Pokémon were allowed in, it would be a different story. Smaller ones might be manageable, but human-sized or large Pokémon could probably eat the hotel into bankruptcy.
He finished with a small glass of sparkling berry juice to aid digestion.
Thus concluded a splendid breakfast.
...
Back in his room, Kael changed into a bright floral shirt, white knee-length shorts, a straw hat, flip-flops, and dark sunglasses. Leisurely, he strolled out of the Ocean Grand Hotel.
A rare visit to such a renowned resort city—now with money in his pocket—meant he had to explore properly. Five days stranded on that deserted island had nearly suffocated him with boredom.
His first stop was Porta Vista's Berry Trading Market.
Berries were among the most critical resources in this world—their importance comparable to oil, coal, and natural gas in his previous life.
Every city had an officially designated trading venue regulated by the League. Buying berries here meant no worries about quality. Oversight was strict.
Each berry's shelf life had to be carefully monitored. Labels clearly indicated whether they were wild-harvested or cultivated. Wild berries were generally cheaper, while premium varieties bred by renowned research institutes commanded higher prices.
"Do you have any Salac Berries?"
Kael approached a stall bearing a logo of three trees—the brand known as Three Trees. Its operating institution was the famous Black Forest Research Institute. A well-known mainstream brand in Kanto—reliable quality, affordable pricing, though somewhat lacking in rarer varieties.
"Salac Berries, right?"
The owner, an enthusiastic middle-aged man, hurried to the back storage area and soon returned with a wooden crate stamped with the Three Trees emblem.
With practiced ease, he pried open the lid. Inside lay a full crate of yellow-sand-colored berries patterned with scale-like markings.
Picking one up, he said cheerfully, "I've been in the berry business for over 10 years. You can rest easy about the quality. This batch was delivered from the research institute just last night. Look at these scales, look at the color—definitely premium Salac Berries cultivated by the Black Forest Research Institute. You know the Black Forest Research Institute represents—"
"Hold on."
Kael raised a hand, cutting off the torrent of salesmanship. He picked up a Salac Berry and turned it carefully in his palm.
He had studied berry cultivation and medicinal plant identification since childhood at the welfare academy. He even held a Level Three certification in berry cultivation. Evaluating berry quality was something he knew quite well.
"May I cut one open and taste it?" Kael asked.
"Of course."
The middle-aged vendor handed him a small knife with a smile. Anyone who requested to cut and taste was usually an experienced evaluator. You couldn't judge a berry's quality by smell alone.
First, you examined it in hand.
Second, you tasted it.