"Ding-ling-ling!!"
Silas coasted to a stop on his mountain bike at the outskirts of the stone-gambling market, hopping off in a light trot.
"So lively… looks like everyone's heading into Rusturf Tunnel for adventure."
The entire bazaar was filled with noise-shouts, bargaining, and the constant clatter of mining tools. Trainers and laborers streamed in and out, many with pickaxes or alloy shovels strapped to their backs.
Silas's sharp eyes picked up on the details. Their gear wasn't the usual stuff sold in Poké Marts: thick-soled boots, reinforced alloy shovels, even black-gold tipped picks. Professional equipment.
"No need to rush into the tunnel just yet. Let's check the market square first-maps will be more useful."
Folding his bike back into his space pack, Silas recalled Murkrow, then changed out of his travel-worn gear into a fresh set of expedition clothes. A wet towel wiped the dust from his face, and with his hair roughly tidied, he stepped into the archway.
The stone market stretched far beyond sight. Stalls lined the way, piled with rocks of all shapes and sizes-some large and twisted like strange Pokémon, others small enough to fit in the palm of a hand.
Trainers prowled the stalls, flashlights and magnifying lenses in hand, peering into cracks, before finally gritting their teeth and gambling on a stone.
A roar filled the air as one stone was fed into a cutter.
Vrrrmmm!
"One slice makes you poor, one slice makes you rich."
A stone worth tens of thousands of Pokédollars could shatter into worthless rubble. Yet an inconspicuous pebble could reveal a gleaming Evolution Stone worth millions.
Here was a gambler's paradise. Or their ruin.
Silas felt no temptation. Not because he was disciplined, but because he knew better.
"You really think the Alliance or Devon Corp don't have ways to scan these? Psychic-types can't sense what's inside? Rock-types can't feel the minerals?"
He smirked faintly. It was a show for the masses, nothing more. Let fools ruin themselves-life would teach them faster than any lecture.
He moved on, inquiring after maps.
"Map, brother? Five thousand Pokédollars, no bargaining," said a squat vendor with a massive backpack. He tugged out a freshly printed map.
Silas skimmed it quickly. Hand-drawn, but clearly from a professional chain of surveyors.
"Don't worry," the seller thumped his chest. "Updated only a few days ago! As long as you don't go into the deepest parts of the Rusturf Tunnel, it's accurate."
Silas bought one, then cross-checked several others from different vendors.
"They differ in small details, but the terrain's the same overall. Good enough."
He also purchased new exploration boots and a reinforced alloy shovel. 'I came here for training… but if I stumble across rare ore, I won't pass it up.'
Even if he didn't, the gear could be resold. Little wasted.
....
Following the crowd, he stepped into the rocky path leading to Rusturf Tunnel. Mist already clung faintly to the air.
Groups stood at the entrance, holding up handwritten signs:
[Mining team recruiting: Have Damp Ability Pokémon, explosion-proof.]
[Expedition team, 3+ years of experience—seeking Flying-type Trainers to blow away mist.]
Silas nodded thoughtfully. He'd read about this online. Rusturf Tunnel was infamous for two things:
1. Rare Pokémon like Geodude and Whismur.
2. A constant thin fog, choking visibility to barely five meters without light or wind.
Just as he adjusted his exploration helmet, loud shouts erupted back at the bazaar.
"What happened?!"
"Someone cut open a high-grade Thunder Stone!"
"No way-really?!"
The crowd surged back in a wave. Even the stationed guards abandoned their posts to see.
Silas rested a boot on a rock, gazing back at the archway.
"A high-grade Evolution Stone… purity above ninety percent. Easy millions."
Even if Thunder Stones weren't as in-demand as Fire or Water Stones, they were still precious-especially since Rustboro Gym had publicly sought them last month. Roxanne's Probopass and her apprentices' Nosepass all relied on Thunder Stones to evolve.
Still, Silas turned away. "Not my concern."
He tightened his helmet and stepped forward. Murkrow, perched on his shoulder, beat its wings, scattering the fog. Together, their silhouettes vanished into the dark tunnel.
The archway fell silent, empty.
Until-
Two figures stepped out of the shadows, one in red, the other in blue. They sneered at the crowd that had been lured away.
"The Alliance really is rotting-so easy to trick the guards."
The woman beside him, a dark-skinned beauty draped in Aqua-blue, snapped back sharply.
"Enough talk, Homura. Don't forget why we're here. Our target is inside Rusturf Tunnel!"
Homura's expression twisted in irritation.
"Hmph. Don't get cocky, Izumi. Our 'cooperation' is temporary at best. My team infiltrated Devon Corp for one reason only-to secure their research and Rusturf's maps, nothing more."
Izumi's eyes narrowed, anger flashing. "Don't play games with me! I already shared the data and the maps. Isn't it time you told me what secrets you're hiding in this tunnel?"
Her hand hovered near her belt, fingers brushing against a Poké Ball.
Homura raised both hands, a hint of caution in his eyes.
"Careful. Our organizations are still under secret cooperation. You really want to risk breaking that here?"
For a long moment, tension hung thick between them. Then, slowly, Izumi lowered her hand, though the suspicion in her eyes never faded.
Together, they turned toward the mist-shrouded tunnel. Vigilance and greed glimmered in their gazes, each clearly waiting for the other to slip.
Moments later, waves of operatives in red and blue filtered into Rusturf Tunnel, their footsteps echoing in the dark.
Two factions, enemies at heart-yet bound, for now, by the thinnest thread of false cooperation.
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(End of chapter)