Eric stood perfectly still in the shadows, observing the two Arbok grunts smoking by the rusted metal doors of the warehouse.
Haunter's eyes gleamed in the darkness at Eric's feet. The ghost-type's aura flickered with lethal intent, ready to drain the life out of the thugs just as he had done to the gang members in the Viridian Forest.
"Wait," Eric whispered softly.
Haunter paused, looking up at him in confusion. "Haunt?"
"We aren't killing them today," Eric said, his eyes calm behind the featureless black mask.
Haunter tilted his head, clearly disappointed.
Eric let out a quiet sigh. A month ago, he wouldn't have hesitated. In his mind, taking out scum was just a necessary part of surviving in a ruthless world. But the events of the past few weeks had subtly, but fundamentally, shifted his perspective.
He was trying to escape the darkness, to build a life where he and his Pokémon could live freely and proudly under the sun. Walking the path of a ruthless murderer, no matter how much they deseved it, would only drag him back into the very mud he was trying to climb out of.
Of course, in a life-or-death situation, Eric won't hesitate to kill. He doubted he would ever lose that edge, but in a situation like this, he chose to stay away from the darkness.
"But," Eric continued, a cold, pragmatic light flashing in his eyes. "That doesn't mean we can't make their lives worse than death."
In this world, a trainer's life, their status, and their safety were entirely dependent on two things: their Pokémon and their resources. Without them, a thug was just a powerless, ordinary criminal, completely at the mercy of the world they had exploited.
And Eric planned to do just that. He would take away everything from the gang, leaving them helpless. Fotr thugs like these, that was not much different than death.
Haunter let go of his disappointment when he heard Eric's reasoning. Instead, he grinned wider and more mischievous than before. That sounded like an incredibly fun game.
"Kekeke."
Haunter sank into the shadows. A split second later, he materialized directly behind the two smoking guards. Before they could even turn their heads, Haunter's eyes flashed, causing the guards to grunt in pain.
The two grunts immediately dropped their cigarettes, their eyes rolling back as they slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Eric stepped out of the darkness and walked over to them. He unbuckled the belts containing their Poké Balls and swiped everything valuable on them.
"Two down," Eric muttered, stepping over the snoring thugs and slipping through the side door of the warehouse.
The interior of the base was massive, dimly lit by flickering industrial lights and reeking of Poison-type Pokémon. Heavy shipping crates created a labyrinth of narrow corridors.
Eric moved like a ghost. He didn't need to engage in flashy battles. With Haunter acting as his silent enforcer, the infiltration was almost laughably easy.
Whenever they encountered a patrolling grunt, Haunter would slip through the floorboards, appearing from their blind spots and swiftly take them down. He would cause them severe pain whenever he did so. Killing or not, he still wanted to make them suffer.
Eric followed right behind, methodically looting every single unconscious body.
He systematically neutralized over fifteen gang members in the span of twenty minutes. Not a single alarm was raised.
As he navigated a deeper section of the warehouse, Eric paused in front of a heavy, reinforced steel door. Haunter phased his head through the metal to check the interior, then popped back out, nodding to Eric.
Eric quietly unlocked the latch and pushed the door open.
His breath hitched slightly.
The room was vast, lined with dozens of reinforced, electrified cages and racks of Poké Balls. Inside the cages, terrified, malnourished Pokémon huddled in the corners. Pidgeys, Rattatas, Sandshrews, and several other common species looked up at Eric with wide, fearful eyes.
A sharp, phantom pain flared in Eric's chest as he looked at the cages.
Memories of the original owner of his body surfaced in his mind. Memories of being treated as nothing more than disposable inventory, locked in a dark room and waiting to be used as a living training dummy.
A cold fury stirred in his gut. His hands curled into tight fists.
But Eric forced himself to breathe. He pushed the anger down, maintaining his absolute tactical clarity.
"It's okay," Eric whispered softly into the room, though he didn't step inside. "I'm going to get you all out of here. Just wait a little longer. Let me finish cleaning the trash outside first."
He slowly pulled the heavy steel door shut, locking it to ensure no stray attacks would damage the room.
He turned back to the corridor, his eyes devoid of any warmth.
"Haunter. Pick up the pace."
"Haunt."
They moved to the central sorting hall of the warehouse. But as Eric rounded the corner, a sudden, blaring siren shattered the silence of the base.
Harsh red emergency lights began to spin overhead, bathing the dingy warehouse in a bloody glow.
"Intruder!" a rough voice shouted from the catwalk above. "They're in the east wing! Look at Jimmy and the others, they've been completely stripped bare! What the hell is going on?!"
Heavy, panicked footsteps echoed from every direction. The doors at the far end of the hall burst open, and over two dozen Arbok Gang members poured into the central room.
"Who the hell is that?!"
"Grab him! Don't let him get away!"
Flash! Flash! Flash!
The room filled with white light as the thugs frantically threw their Poké Balls. A small army of Zubats, Koffings, Ekans, and Grimers materialized, hissing and shrieking as they locked their aggressive gazes onto the lone intruder.
Eric stood dead center in the massive hall.
He was completely surrounded by nearly thirty gang members and their Pokémon. The exit was blocked. The catwalks were lined with enemies. The situation, to any normal trainer, would have been absolutely terrifying.
But Eric didn't flinch. He didn't take a defensive stance.
He simply stood there, his hands resting casually in the pockets of his black jacket. The featureless black mask hid his face, but his posture showed how he didn't consider them a threat, just a mild nuisance.
He sighed, looking at the army of beginner and low-intermediate level thugs as if he were looking at a pile of tedious paperwork.
"Well," Eric sighed, his voice echoing calmly across the tense hall. "So much for doing things quietly."
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