"This was discovered inside the wreckage of a long-lost ship—an ancient treasure map. Upon it is drawn a mysterious route, leading toward an unknown destination."
"Perhaps it will guide you to a hidden island filled with treasure, or even to rare Pokémon. If you'd like to test your luck, you may purchase this map and try for yourself."
"The ancient nautical chart—starting bid, five thousand Pokédollars!"
With the auctioneer's closing words, the first lot of the auction was revealed. Yet the crowd showed little enthusiasm.
Clearly, this ancient map wasn't what they had come for, nor did anyone seem interested in gambling their fate on luck.
"Are you going to buy it?" The old sailor at Hayato's side noticed the gleam in the boy's eyes and asked.
Hayato nodded, his calm gaze fixed on the weathered parchment.
That map's markings matched what, in the game, was called Faraway Island—a solitary isle absent from Hoenn's official maps.
But that wasn't what truly mattered.
What mattered was that, in the game, that very island was home to the mythical Pokémon—Mew.
The origin of all, the mysterious Pokémon said to contain the genes of every other species.
Because the first lot was nothing more than a worn scrap of parchment, intimidating in appearance but dubious in value, no one made the first move.
Seeing this, Hayato calmly said: "Five thousand two hundred."
The auctioneer turned toward him."Five thousand two hundred, once!"
"Five thousand two hundred, twice!"
"Five thousand two hundred, thrice! Congratulations, sir! From now on, this ancient nautical chart belongs to you!" The auctioneer smiled. "Please collect it from the back after the auction ends!"
The first lot concluded. Soon, the second was carried onto the stage in a cage.
Inside rested an astonishingly beautiful Pokémon.
Its body was cream-colored, curled like that of a maiden. Scarlet fins, like flowing hair, framed its head. A long tail covered in blue and pink scales draped listlessly to the side. Its eyelids, adorned with delicate lashes, were closed, as if it were peacefully asleep.
The auctioneer smiled broadly."Lot number two: dwelling in the depths of great lakes, known as the most beautiful existence in the world—Milotic."
"Starting price, ten thousand Pokédollars!"
The moment his words fell, the auction hall erupted.
"Twenty thousand!"
"Twenty-five!"
"Thirty thousand!"
"Fifty!"
"Eighty!"
The atmosphere blazed alive, the entire hall bursting with fevered excitement.
Amid the commotion, however, three men sat calmly unmoved—Archie of Team Aqua, Maxie of Team Magma, and from the distant Johto region, a Rocket executive named Vicious. Their gazes lingered briefly on Milotic, but their expressions betrayed no change.
Clearly, this was not what they had come for.
Hayato watched the sleeping Milotic, his heart heavy.
Once, he had spent time as a teacher, studying history.
For countless centuries, the relationship between humans and Pokémon had been shifting.
In the beginning, for weaponless humans, Pokémon were terrifying beings.
Through endless conflict and collision, only after millennia had both sides reached the harmony of today.
And yet, in this modern era, for those with advanced technology and ill intent, Pokémon had become nothing more than commodities for auction.
That Milotic was finally sold for one hundred and sixty thousand Pokédollars to a wealthy buyer.
But what happened to this Milotic would never end here.
It was not the first, nor would it be the last.
One after another, more Pokémon were brought out for bidding.
After an hour, the auction neared its climax.
Having sold off that rare, slumbering Pokémon, the auctioneer swept his gaze across the hall, a smile curling on his lips.
"I'm sure you've all been waiting long enough, haven't you? No need for suspense—now, I present to you the crowning treasure of tonight's auction!"
In the audience, Archie, Maxie, and Vicious' eyes lit with anticipation.
The auctioneer clapped his hands. At once, attendants carried forth a massive "stone," nearly the size of a watermelon.
Bathed in a single spotlight, the final item of the night was unveiled.
"In the far north of Hoenn, in the distant region of Forina, there is a legend."
With a smile under the beam of light, the auctioneer began:
"It is said that once every thousand years, when a comet streaks across the sky, a Pokémon known as the Wish Pokémon awakens from its slumber. In that moment, if one makes a wish, it shall be granted."
At that instant, information surfaced in Hayato's mind:
[Sleeping Cocoon: Within it slumbers the Mythical Pokémon Jirachi.]
The auctioneer scanned the crowd's faces and continued smiling."Starting bid, ten million Pokédollars!"
The hall exploded in shock.
Even Maxie and Archie's expressions turned sour.
The price was outrageous.
No one spoke. The hall fell into a tense silence.
Then the auctioneer dropped another bombshell:"According to records, this Wish Pokémon's next awakening is less than five years away!"
Hearing this, Archie clenched his fists. Thoughts of Team Aqua's grand plan surged through his mind.
"Eleven million!" he called out through gritted teeth.
The auctioneer echoed, "Eleven million, once!"
A rotund, wealthy-looking man smirked."Fifteen million."
Archie's brow twitched."Sixteen million!"
" Nineteen," the man replied smoothly.
"You—!"
Archie's rage flared. But the price had far exceeded his budget. Any higher, and Team Aqua itself might collapse.
Grinding his teeth, he gave up, glaring hatefully at the man before storming out of the hall.
Hayato's fingers twitched. He stayed seated.
Magma and Aqua had never targeted Relicanth or Zapdos. His only true enemies here were the Pokémon hunters and collectors.
These people… would not leave alive.
The man remained unfazed by Archie's exit.
After a pause, Maxie finally spoke."Twenty million."
The man smirked."Thirty."
Maxie's gaze sharpened."Thirty-two."
The man casually raised five fingers."Fifty million."
Maxie fell silent.
He and Archie were not from wealthy families. Building Team Magma to its current state had been arduous. Wasting all their funds on a stone of uncertain power was madness.
Recognizing the man's identity, Maxie adjusted his glasses and gave a thin smile."Congratulations."
He too rose and left.
Vicious, silent all this while, merely stood without a word and departed as well. Perhaps, without news of Celebi, he had no interest in Jirachi.
Hayato chose not to stop him.
Pokémon 4Ever: Celebi—A Timeless Encounter was Ash's story. There, he would meet Professor Oak as a child.
Hayato had no wish to disturb that timeline.
He glanced toward Gengar hovering nearby.
Invisible, Gengar grinned wickedly. From its body, unseen tendrils of power spread across the hall.
With the three leaders gone, no one dared bid further.
The wealthy man claimed the Sleeping Cocoon—Jirachi—for fifty million Pokédollars.
The auction ended. People rose, preparing to leave.
Only Hayato and the old sailor remained seated.
The old sailor looked around nervously."Should we go?"
"No." Hayato opened his eyes, his gaze cold as it swept across the hall now cloaked by Gengar's power.
It was his first time doing something like this.
But if he didn't act, these people would think him easy prey. They would never stop.
He had never sought power, never wished to dominate the world. He only wanted to live peacefully alongside his Pokémon.
But in life, there are always moments where choice is forced upon you.
For the sake of his beloved Pokémon—he had made his decision.
"Whatever you see next," Hayato said calmly to the old sailor, "do not be afraid."
The sailor hesitated, swallowed, and nodded tensely."O-okay."
Meanwhile, the first group heading for the elevators realized something was wrong.
"What's going on?" their leader frowned.
They had been walking for over ten minutes, yet the elevator never appeared. By the hall's layout, it should've taken five minutes at most.
Suddenly, one of them gasped."Everyone else—gone!"
The leader spun around. The once-crowded corridor was now eerily empty, shrouded in shadow.
From the corridor's end, darkness loomed, thick and suffocating.
"Ghost-type Pokémon?" he muttered, tense.
A cold wind brushed past. The air grew frigid, as if someone were breathing icy air on the back of his neck.
He whipped around—no one was there.
"Why would Ghost-types appear here?" another stammered.
The leader scowled."Someone is behind this. Find them!"
But before he could move—
Clack… clack…
Footsteps echoed from the corner.
"What was that?" he demanded.
No reply.
Turning sharply, he froze.
The corridor was empty. His companions—gone. He was alone.
One by one, the overhead lights fizzled out with a harsh snap.
Darkness swallowed the corridor whole.
Heart pounding, he steadied himself. Whoever it was didn't want them leaving.
So be it. He would confront them directly.
…
Back in the hall, Hayato checked the ticking seconds on his phone.
Beside him, Gengar floated silently, awaiting the return of the frightened prey.
Moments later, the first man burst through the doors, pale and panting.
Then the second. The third.
Hunters, collectors, even wealthy patrons—all stumbled back inside, gasping in relief to see others alive.
"What the hell was that?"
"So scary!"
Gradually, realization dawned. Those powers—they belonged to a Ghost-type.
Anger flared.
"Damn it! Who's behind this? If I find them, I'll throw them into the sea for Sharpedo bait!"
Up above, Hayato sat calmly, gaze fixed.
At last, eyes turned to him—and the Gengar floating at his side.
"It's you!"
"Little brat, you'll pay! Hitmontop, attack!"
With a flash of light, Hitmontop spun into battle, launching a Rolling Kick straight at Hayato.
But Gengar's Psychic instantly halted the strike. With a single blow, Hitmontop collapsed, defeated.
Then Gengar's form melted into the shadows, reappearing an instant later, wreathed in dreadful Nightmarish aura.
A wave of dark energy crashed forward, striking the reckless hunter.
Without even a scream, the man crumpled to the ground—never to rise again.
Hayato's gaze swept the hall.
The wealthy patrons recoiled, paling.
"You can't touch us!" one stammered, trying to sound brave.
Hayato gave him a faint, chilling smile.
"Sorry. But in this world—there is no one I cannot touch."
"As long as I choose to."