The moment he hung up the phone, the short, mustached manager couldn't hide the excitement on his face.
His joy was written all over him—he was practically trembling with excitement.
After all, offspring from a pseudo-Elite-level Pokémon were one thing… but offspring from a true Elite-level Pokémon? That was an entirely different concept.
If the young of a pseudo-Elite could maybe start bidding at ten million…
Then for the offspring of an actual Elite Pokémon, ten million would be dirt cheap. Thirty or forty million, even fifty million—none of that would be out of the question.
Because a child of an Elite Pokémon would very likely grow into an Elite as well—almost guaranteed, unless the Trainer was completely incompetent.
Rich buyers were willing to spend tens of millions for that guarantee—that assurance that they could raise an Elite-class Pokémon.
Of course, how well that would work depended on how the breeding center marketed it, managed it, and conned—er, guided—those wealthy clients into taking the bait.
But the Electabuzz wasn't in hand yet, so he had to stay calm.
If that mysterious pseudo-Elite Trainer noticed anything off, he might use the opportunity to jack up the price.
Fifteen million was the hard ceiling. Whatever he could negotiate below that would be his commission—and of course, he wanted as much as possible.
He needed to get back to the private room quickly. Hopefully, the guy was still there—if so, the deal might still close at seven million, and the rest would be pure profit. Delicious, delicious profit.
And if the guy was gone? No problem—he could still track him down and close the deal at fifteen million. It was an easy task either way.
By the time the mustached manager returned, he had already wiped the excitement from his face and put on his usual emotionless professional expression. Then he remembered that this mysterious Trainer didn't like smiling, so he switched to a more serious look.
When he re-entered the private room, the green tea had already gone cold. The soundproof door was still open. Reiji hadn't left—he was still seated on the sofa, unmoved.
The manager prepared to speak. If the guy agreed to sell—great. If not—also fine. As long as he didn't leave.
"Sir, have you thought it over? Are you planning to sell the Electabuzz?"
"Hmm?" Reiji had been staring blankly at his tea. He only snapped out of it when the manager spoke, waving him off as he stood up to leave.
"The price is too low. I'm not selling. I'll go ask somewhere else..."
Reiji had no idea what the manager had just been talking about over the phone. Saying he'd check other shops was just a bluff—to see if the manager really didn't care about the Electabuzz. He had nothing to lose, after all.
But he wasn't going to let this Electabuzz go for cheap. He still had Gyarados and Golbat—he'd ask the other two breeding centers about them. If the price was right, he'd sell.
Even the masked vendor hadn't sold his Electabuzz. Reiji wasn't in a rush either. He could afford to wait and see.
He didn't believe the fat guy would resort to violence. He was a pseudo-Elite Trainer now—was the manager really prepared to provoke someone like him?
Unless the manager was a lone wolf—but unfortunately for him, he wasn't. If he angered a pseudo-Elite, he could easily be thrown under the bus by his own company to appease that anger.
When Reiji got up to leave, the manager started to panic. But he couldn't reveal that he desperately wanted the Electabuzz—that would expose his true intentions and weaken his bargaining position.
Still, he couldn't afford to care anymore. He had to keep Reiji there. As long as the guy stayed, everything could be negotiated. But once he walked out… there'd be no chance for further bargaining.
He had a mission to complete, and failure meant losing everything. He did not want to end up working as a caretaker in the pens.
"Sir, wait! The price is still negotiable! There's no need to decide right now," the manager quickly stood and tried to stop Reiji, gently guiding him back to the sofa and closing the soundproof door—no more thoughts of leaving allowed.
"Huh. That's strange…" Reiji let himself be pulled back without resisting, but he felt the manager's behavior was a little off.
Just a moment ago, the guy had acted all regretful, saying he'd done his best and couldn't go higher than seven million. And now he was backpedaling?
What made him change his mind? Could it be… that phone call?
But what kind of phone call would make someone add more money on top of a seven-million deal? And for this Electabuzz?
Could it be…?
Reiji had a guess—but he wasn't sure. He needed to probe the guy to confirm it.
"Didn't you say the highest you could go was seven million?" Reiji asked suspiciously, staring at the manager.
"Sir, the price is always negotiable! Fifteen million is just a bit too high. If you could come down just a little..."
"Fourteen million?" Reiji probed.
"Certainly! But it's still a bit steep. If we could just shave off a tiny bit more…" The manager rubbed his hands under the table. This was his favorite part of the job—and he had no idea how much he might earn this time.
Every million Reiji dropped was a million straight into his own pocket. He was practically humming with joy.
"How about this one? Think it could sell for ten million?" Reiji suddenly pulled out a Poké Ball containing Magneton and placed it on the table to test the waters.
"Of course not, sir. Could we go back to discussing the Electabuzz?" the manager said immediately. He wasn't interested in Magneton at all.
Right now, he only cared about the Electabuzz.
But his eagerness had already been seen through by Reiji.
Reiji, still twirling two Poké Balls in his hand, smiled and looked straight at the manager. Looks like he guessed right—Electabuzz's third evolution had been discovered.
The manager was still waiting for Reiji to lower the price, but he suddenly noticed Reiji staring at him with that smile—and the smile on his own face froze. It had jumped ship—straight to Reiji's face.
He looked at the two Poké Balls Reiji was playing with and instantly knew—his obsession with Electabuzz had been exposed.
But he didn't believe Reiji had figured out the third-stage evolution. More likely, he just knew the manager desperately wanted it. As for why he wanted it, Reiji couldn't possibly know—or so the manager thought.
That was confidential information straight from HQ. The news hadn't even spread yet. No way this guy could know. Even if he was a pseudo-Elite.
The manager was sure of that.
Still, it didn't matter. He was already at a disadvantage. The power to bargain now rested entirely in Reiji's hands.
Unless...
He glanced over at Magneton and suddenly had an idea.
"Sir, just name your price," the manager said, not wanting to drag this out. Better to wrap up the Electabuzz deal quickly and move on to acquiring the other one HQ wanted.
"You sure your shop can handle all this?" Reiji didn't respond directly. Instead, he laid out six Poké Balls on the table: Electabuzz, Magneton, Golbat, Gyarados, Electrode, and Mankey—plus a Magnet item.
Seeing all six Pokémon made the manager's eyelid twitch.
Were all six pseudo-Elite level?
Had this man taken down an entire pseudo-Elite Trainer at full strength?
This guy wasn't just pseudo-Elite himself. He might've wiped out someone else at the same level. While some sellers came in urgently trying to offload shady Pokémon—often stolen from powerful factions—these people could usually be pressured and lowballed.
But these six pseudo-Elite Pokémon suggested a much bigger story—likely the fall of another pseudo-Elite Trainer.
The kind of person who could easily take down someone like that was now sitting right in front of him, smiling calmly.
And he wanted to lowball this guy?
If he made one wrong move, Reiji might track him down and kill him. It would be effortless.
Forget about "I have the breeding center behind me" or "HQ's backing me"—anyone in the underworld who couldn't recognize danger was already a cold, forgotten corpse in a gutter.
Only the living had value. Only the living could rise.
In this line of work, the dead were worthless—and the second most worthless were the tools barely surviving.
"Sir, I'll need to scan each of these Pokémon to confirm their power levels. Is that okay?" the manager asked cautiously. Since they were being sold anyway, scanning should be fine, right?
"Go ahead. Only three are pseudo-Elite level. Two are veteran-tier. One is elite-tier," Reiji replied, completely confident that he had the upper hand. No need to rush.
Since the manager wanted Electabuzz so badly, Reiji might as well milk it for the best possible price. Whether or not the guy actually knew about its third-stage evolution—Reiji was going to assume he did.
What the manager didn't know was that Reiji already knew what he was after—and he'd never guess that Reiji was a transmigrator who had known about Electivire from the start.
Why hadn't Reiji revealed the evolution sooner?
Because if he really was pseudo-Elite, he'd be treated like royalty. But if not, what awaited him was endless imprisonment.
He wasn't being paranoid—he had seen a colleague fall for a scam and disappear. No one came back from that.
Trust was fragile.
If he didn't want to end up like that, the only safe bet was to rely on strength he held in his own hands.
He refused to swallow lies, refused to offer up advanced knowledge. The world didn't deserve it.
So what if Electivire had been discovered? It was only a matter of time anyway. And if anyone tried to monopolize it, he'd just leak the info anonymously. That'd be fun.
While he was lost in thought, the manager finished scanning the six Pokémon on the table.
(End of Chapter)
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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