Chapter 5 | The Game Corner

Brenton stepped out of the bathtub, his body still dripping with the remains of his scalding hot shower. The warm mist from the man's hot water filled the air, settling on the cool mirror and coating it in an opaque layer. He extended a hand, wiping the mist off.

The mirror showed a different man than the one it had eleven years ago. He'd aged, becoming stronger and more experienced over the years. His physique had become adorned with lean muscle, ready to explode into action at any time. A variety of scars adorned his muscles, giving his skin a number of imperfections.

His worst scar covered the whole of his left arm, a sobering reminder to keep his emotions under control while on missions. He had failed to do it when he had stolen Nidoran eggs, which incited a Nidoking to rip his left arm off in its outrage.

He was dismayed just by how different it felt after being reattached compared to how it had felt for his entire life. It was torture having to simply wait for his arm to heal before reconditioning his body. Even so, he'd gotten over it. Actually, he'd displayed outstanding results even with the injury.

After drying himself, Brenton opened a bathroom drawer, pulling out a bottle of white pills. The doctor had said something about having nerve damage as well, which was evident thanks to the flashes of pain he'd get from time to time. Thankfully, she'd given him medication to suppress it and help it heal faster.

He gulped down a pill before putting the bottle back. He glanced at his watch - the same one he'd been using since the end of Kanto Secondary School - before widening his eyes. With a flurry of motion, he clothed himself in his typical black gear. He contentedly nodded as he slid his belt on, mounting each of his Pokéballs on it.

He brushed his brown hair and gave his short beard a quick shape-up before barreling out the bathroom door, cursing himself for indulging in such a nice shower. Thankfully, his wife wasn't home to tease him to hell and back about it.

With his stomach already filled from a hearty breakfast, Brenton walked through his cozy living room towards the door, where he threw his shoes and coat on. Quickly, he slid three more Pokéballs into his coat pocket before grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

'The view's beautiful as always,' Brenton thought as he looked at the sea, its waves sparkling in the light of the sunrise. The sunrise filled his life with warm color as if it were silently saying good morning. It certainly had helped him when he grieved Miyamoto's death. With him having received a prompt to report to the base for a new mission, it was time for him to return to work.

Team Rocket had provided him with a small, but cozy house in the suburbs of Vermilion City. It had a green door that complemented its clean beige walls. A few bricks could be seen along these walls, though they looked quite rustic. Sitting on top of it was an orange shingled roof.

Unfortunately, Brenton didn't have time to stand around and enjoy the sunrise. Brenton's legs tensed, and in the next instant, he bolted forward, like an arrow. The posts and rope that bordered the sea from the pier blurred, wind whistling through his ears as he ran towards the train station.

Brenton excelled at running, and his neighbors were keenly aware of this. The man sped by an elderly couple's home while they were watering their garden. He waved at them briefly causing smiles to spread across their wrinkled faces.

The view surrounding him shifted as he continued to pump his legs, the ocean becoming less visible as taller buildings became more frequent. He flew by several rather vibrant shops that were opening for the day. Ice cream parlors, pancake restaurants, and PokéPuff shops started popping up around him.

After several more minutes, he'd reached the train station near the city center, his breath still at an even pace. With the sheer amount of training he and his Pokémon had gone through, a ten-mile run was nothing at a moderate pace.

He strolled toward the ticket agent, adopting an expression of neutrality.

"Hello, Brenton. It's nice to see you again," she nodded professionally, "You're commuting to work again in Celadon City?"

"Yes."

"Your card, please."

Brenton his ID across the ticket agent's desk, watching her intently as she handled it. She frowned at this.

"I'm not going to steal it."

Brenton's silence radiated a silent disagreement with her statement, prompting her to sigh and shake her head. She handed it back along with a ticket after running the ID through a card reader next to her computer.

"See? Safe and sound. I'll see you around."

Brenton shook his head and walked away, his mood darkening. The whole reason the League required ID when allowing people to travel on trains was so that they could know who goes where at all times.

They usually told the kids that they're used to verify that they're old enough to travel around the region. The adults, on the other hand, simply adjusted to the system over time.

Brenton despised the scanner, which came next on his boarding process for the train. The scanner was just like it sounded like - a machine for "security purposes" that examines individuals and their belongings. His extra three Pokéballs would have been discovered if he hadn't clothed himself with a smuggler coat he'd purchased on the black market. An ugly fine awaits those who do stuff like that and are obvious about it.

After walking down several flights of stairs, he queued up into the line of people walking through the scanner. It made a high-pitched beeping sound as each person passed through, prompting Brenton's hands to curl up into fists inside his coat pockets. He swiftly pulled them out as soon as it was his turn.

The machine parsed through his possessions for a few seconds before emitting another high-pitched beep, prompting him to continue on. He moved away from the scanner at a steady speed, but somehow it felt like he couldn't get away quickly enough.

The train was a slender beauty of aerodynamics and engineering. Since it was an underground route, they'd gotten rid of the windows and added more insulation on the walls instead. The tube the train traveled through surrounded the entire circuit, protecting it from troubles caused by Onix, Diglett, and other Pokémon. It did so thanks to the fact that it was a vacuum chamber, allowing them to keep the gel enclosed in it at around -300 degrees Fahrenheit - something ground types would find repulsive in every sense.

Brenton passed through the train's doors, before sitting on a seat next to the central walkway. Not even five minutes later, the train's doors closed as it slowly started to move forward.

The train gradually picked up speed, eventually reaching its limit for safe traveling. Though the exact speed is unknown (though people speculate if it could go at Mach One), it's fast enough to get to Celadon City in just ten minutes.

As soon as the train came to a stop, Brenton walked at a steady pace out of the train station, where he was interrupted once again to have his ID checked once again. In this examination, however, it wasn't anywhere as invasive as it was in Vermilion City. In fact, it was practically a joke.

Now, here's the fun part - at least to Brenton. Team Rocket essentially owns Celadon City. They'd collected some 'dirt' on Erika, the grass-type Gym Leader years ago. Information that would easily destroy her life and family if it were to ever get out. Nowadays, she turns a blind eye to Team Rocket activity within her city, even (regretfully) following orders from himself and the other Executives.

Since Lt. Surge is also an admin, Team Rocket also essentially owns Vermilion City. The problem is that they need to tread carefully since it's also one of the League's most industrious port towns. Other than a few more less-than-abandoned warehouses and ships and trains with undocumented cargo, not much goes on there at the moment.

Brenton made his way to the Game Corner, not even sparing a glance at anyone or anything. His footsteps blended into a steady pattern – one that he'd developed over the years to prevent him from ever sticking out in a crowd. Although it wasn't entirely successful, it was still more efficient than running over there.

When Brenton entered the Game Corner, he was met with rather comfortable surroundings. The white and red tile floor complemented the spotless white walls, which appeared to have never seen a drop of blood or alcohol on them. The customer service and prize booths were lined with marble counters that matched the cleanliness of the walls. The place felt more cozy thanks to the numerous posters that lined the walls and displayed different games and prizes. The décor was very much appreciated by the patrons, many of whom simply thought the owner was quirky.

In the worker's lounge, there was a particular poster that depicted one of the first rockets to have ever left the planet. The poster itself was tucked away in a corner, hidden from the eyes of the public and the League's Health and Workforce Inspectors.

Brenton strode directly toward the coin vendor and casually rested an arm on the marble, silently prompting him. The coin vendor, Holmes, was a rather short and stout man with muscular limbs hidden underneath his sweater. He often wore an easygoing, dopey face. Most people would be fooled into thinking that he's rather amicable based on his charisma. In reality, he's one of Team Rocket's Ace Trainers, already strong enough to clear all of the Gyms in Kanto within a month. Even with an executive standing just in front of him, he managed to maintain his charismatic and relaxed vibe while being formal.

"Good morning, sir!" Holmes reverently greeted. Despite having the utmost respect for his superiors, verification would always be imperative to his duties as the 'doorman' of this base. "How many coins would you like? Each coin is ten a piece, seven for five hundred, and five for a thousand."

Instead of answering the question, Brenton strolled toward the neighboring prize counter and plucked a Bulbasaur plushie from a shelf of Pokémon plushies.

"You came to redeem your points? That's fine, but I'll need to check your account to make sure you have enough. Do you have your Game Corner card?"

After pulling out his wallet, Brenton gave Holmes his Rocket ID. He took it and ran it through the desk's computers, which were linked to Team Rocket's highly secure servers. After only a brief delay, the doorman handed the ID back after nodding satisfactorily.

"You have enough credits, but you'll want to renew your card. Please follow me. Lester – please take over for now."

Another man, somehow even shorter than Holmes, walked up and took Holmes' place. Lester, however, is completely in the dark about Team Rocket's operations. His function is more for insurance purposes as his innocence could be put to use when talking to anyone extremely important in the League who may come to inspect the place.

After walking around the counter, Brenton and Holmes make their way to the worker's lounge, their footsteps now silent on the carpeted floor. Holmes opens the door and respectfully lets Brenton through first before filing in himself.

The worker's lounge is what you'd expect from your typical casino/game corner. A massive reserve of alcohol and coffee, matched with a few chairs around a table in relative disarray. Several posters lined the wall, though the rocket one could be found to the right of the door.

With the exception of a few designated hiding areas just above ceiling panels (which were carefully checked), the worker's lounge was arranged so that there was nowhere to hide, allowing the doorman to search the room rigorously for anyone hiding inside.

To save time, Brenton reached for his belt, pulling off a Pokéball. One of his most dangerous, yet reliable Pokémon lay within. With a low-effort toss, the ball popped open and spilled what seemed to be liquid blue light. The light coalesced into the shape of a quadruped before it dimmed.

The quadruped was a pink canine, ribbons trailing from it in different directions. Her blue eyes radiated overwhelming malice until she spotted her trainer, causing them to turn into that of jubilance. Her teeth were unusually sharp, like small daggers that lined her mouth. Her white fur was matted from training, some of it permanently stained a very faint shade of red from her bloodthirsty activities.

"Sylveon. You know the drill."

Sylveon probed through the room in all sorts of unusual angles and manners with her feelers, which extended and returned to her as she pleased. To be sure, she probed for any emotions in the room but only found that the three of them were producing emotions. With a nod, she eventually retracted all of her ribbons and wrapped one of them around Brenton's wrist.

The doorman walked to the rocket poster before peeling it back, revealing a small wedge in the wall that housed a button. In just a second, Holmes pushed the button and started making his way back to the coin counter.

"Have a good day, sir."