Moonlight spilled across the open sea, casting a faint silver shimmer over the water. A salt-laden breeze moved in off the ocean, carrying away the last of the day's warmth from the shore.
On a deserted island, deep within the cover of a thick jungle, a Raticate darted through the tall grass, vanishing between the roots.
Three figures in black robes stepped onto the island. Beneath the moonlight, they looked out toward a distant shape—another island, barely visible against the dark horizon.
All three wore masks.
The one leading them was tall and powerfully built. Even the plain black mask covering his face could not fully hide the thick sideburns along his jaw. His frame spoke of someone who had spent years training both body and Pokémon.
The other two wore Yamask masks. Both masks bore the number "6," though one was gold and the other silver—marking one as a Priest-6 official member and the other as a Reserve Preist-6.
The tall, middle-aged man in the lead turned to the Priest-6 member beside him. "Ocean, the location Giovanni mentioned is just ahead. I'll go on first." His voice was low and measured. "If anything happens, I'll contact you right away. The two of you come in fast when I do."
Ocean was the codename of the Priest-6 official member. A Foreigner of mysterious origins and considerable strength, he kept a notably low profile within the God's Coffin Organization. His partner Pokémon was Manaphy—the Prince of the Sea—and he specialized in Water-types. The ocean was his natural ground.
"Understood," Ocean said with a nod. He then glanced toward the Reserve Preist-6 wearing the silver Yamask mask beside him. "Owen and I will move in and do what we can to hold Giovanni down. But Meyer—I've already been clear about this. We can't promise we'll be able to keep him contained. We'll give everything we have, but if the situation turns dangerous beyond what we can handle, we pull out. Immediately."
Owen was the Reserve member at Ocean's side. Despite holding only a Reserve rank, his strength was genuinely formidable—enough to surpass some of God's Coffin's full official members. The sole reason he had not been promoted was that he had yet to obtain a Legendary Pokémon.
"Understood." Meyer's expression was composed, his voice even. "If it comes to that, the two of you retreat without hesitation. The agreed reward will be paid in full once I return."
"Champion Meyer always makes things straightforward," Ocean said, the faintest smile in his voice. "And I won't pretend I'm not curious—I want to see the legendary Lapras for myself. We'll give this everything we've got."
"Agreed." Meyer's tone remained grave. "If even God's Coffin can't pin down Giovanni's Lapras in open water, it's hard to imagine who could. That said—" he paused briefly, "—we may not come to blows at all. Not tonight."
With that, Meyer called out his Metagross and took off across the sea, heading for the location Jacob had arranged for the exchange. Wind whipped past as Metagross skimmed low over the water, leaving ripples across the surface in its wake.
Gradually, the distant island came into focus. Dense palm trees lined the shore. A few Wingull glided lazily near the waterline, each one clutching a small catch in its beak.
"Easy now. Bring us down on the beach."
Metagross slowed and descended, coming to a stop on the sand with a low thud.
Meyer dropped off its back, his leather shoes pressing into the sand. His eyes swept the area in a single, practiced scan.
Beep.
His Pokégear rang the moment he landed.
"Hello?" Meyer glanced at the screen and lowered his voice. "I've arrived."
"I can see you." Jacob's calm, unhurried voice carried a quiet pressure all its own. "Let me inspect the goods first. Move to the open space on the beach and lay out what you've brought."
His tone was steady and deliberate—every word placed to keep Meyer following his lead, not the other way around.
Meyer's expression, hidden behind his mask, did not shift. His pulse stayed even, his voice controlled. Whatever he felt, none of it surfaced. "Alright."
He extended his hand. Several cases materialized from a held item pocket. He set them down on the sand, one by one, and opened them.
"One S-rank Celebration Armor. One S-rank Curse Armor. One complete A-rank item set. And one King-level qualification Duraludon Pokémon Egg. All present and accounted for."
As he spoke, Meyer was quietly scanning his surroundings—the tree line, the water, the sky above. Jacob could see him clearly, which meant he was close. Somewhere on the island, perhaps. Or on the water. Or above it.
"You've had a look. Now it's my turn." Meyer closed the cases and returned them, his voice calm and firm. "I need to see Andrew. I need to know he's still alive."
"Fair enough," Jacob said after a moment. "I'll give you the new location now. Andrew will be there—you'll see him yourself. But from here on, you follow my instructions. That's the condition."
The repeated demands drew a faint furrow to Meyer's brow—the first crack in his composure.
He was quiet for a moment. Then, steadily: "Alright. I agree. Tell me what you need."
"Cross to the other side of the island and board a designated Pokémon. There's a Wailmer waiting there. It'll take you to where the trade will take place."
"Before you move—discard every electronic device you're carrying. That includes the Pokégear in your hand right now. Do you see the large rock to your left?"
Meyer looked. He saw them—a cluster of Magnemite resting near the base of the rock, their single eyes blinking slowly.
"Those Magnemite will detect any device you're still carrying. If you're holding something, they'll react. Once you're clear, walk past them. After their check, make your way to the other side and board the Wailmer. Andrew will be there."
A brief pause. Then Jacob's voice shifted slightly. "Andrew. Say something."
A strained, exhausted voice came through. "Father… please… come."
Meyer's jaw tightened beneath his mask.
"You can start moving now."
Meyer stood still for a moment, taking stock.
Giovanni's plan was thorough. More thorough than he had expected—and that, in itself, was the problem. Giovanni's raw strength was already exceptional. The fact that he was also this methodical, this careful, meant that he had prepared for every angle. And throughout all of this, Giovanni had yet to show himself even once. Meyer had been responding, not acting.
"Giovanni." Meyer exhaled slowly, his voice dropping to something low and cold. "This is beginning to feel excessive. I'm starting to wonder whether you trust me at all—or whether you're genuinely serious about this trade."
"Champion Meyer, I think you've misread the situation," Jacob replied, and there was a trace of something almost like dry amusement in his tone. "It's because I'm serious about this trade that I've taken every precaution. Your reputation is well-known, and your strength demands that I not leave a single gap uncovered. I can't afford to be careless with someone like you."
Meyer's expression didn't change. The flattery passed through him without landing. His mind was already working on the same question: how to get word to Ocean about what was happening here.
He was confident in his own abilities. But this was not the British Empire. He was far from home ground—and even someone of his standing had to be measured about that.
When Meyer remained silent, Jacob spoke again, his tone unhurried but clear. "Champion Meyer. This is the foundation of our arrangement. If we can't establish even this level of trust between us, then there's no point going further."
Meyer drew a slow breath. "Alright," he said at last. "I accept your terms."
He had crossed half the world to reach this meeting. He wasn't going to turn back now.
Even if things went badly—even if Andrew didn't make it through—he still wanted to lay eyes on "Giovanni" in person.
Methodically, Meyer removed every electronic device from his person. He passed through the Magnemite's silent inspection without a signal. Then he walked to the far side of the island, where the Wailord waited at the edge of the water—and stepped aboard.