There's Something Off About My Pokémon. [69]
"Coming here so early in the morning—looking to mooch off my tea again?" Grandpa grumbled through the pipe in his mouth, giving the man in front of him a disgruntled look.
"Now, come on..." The man smiled, though the long scar across his face made him look rather intimidating. Despite his high-ranking position, he still had immense respect for this former mentor. "Can't I just visit and check in on you?"
"Don't give me that crap," Grandpa huffed. "I'm out of Longjing tea. If you want more, bring me another Vulpix egg!" He smacked his lips, muttering under his breath, "Wait a minute... actually, Chengcheng doesn't seem to be short on Pokémon right now."
The man chuckled softly and said, "I heard your grandson made it to the finals of the U20 Tournament."
Hearing this, Grandpa immediately became alert, setting his pipe aside as he fixed the man with a suspicious stare. "You're not here to—"
"I want to recruit him into the system," the man admitted.
"Don't even think about it!" Grandpa slammed the table in anger, startling the Chatot nearby, which quickly fluttered back into its cage. "You and I both know what kind of place that is! He's still just a kid, and you want to send him into battle?"
The man, clearly anticipating this reaction, smiled bitterly and explained, "I don't intend to bring him in right away. He'll need to at least finish college first."
"Even after he graduates, there's no way!" Grandpa's face turned red as he puffed out his beard in frustration. "Being a Trainer is a lot better than going through the hell you guys put people through!"
"Comrade Lu Wanqian!" The man suddenly stood, his expression turning serious. "You and I both know how valuable an exceptional Trainer is to the association. We can't just sit back and watch a rising star emerge without taking any action!"
Grandpa was taken aback for a moment before slowly sitting down again, muttering, "At the very least, you should ask what he wants..."
"Of course," the man nodded. "Rest assured, this wouldn't be a bad thing for Lu Cheng. At the very least, we can guarantee he'll receive the best resources until he graduates."
Grandpa sighed deeply. He knew better than most what the Armed Forces Division entailed. Renowned for its high casualty rate, they were tasked with everything from combating Pokémon smuggling to quelling border uprisings. Others might not fully grasp what that meant, but Grandpa did. This wasn't a path to riches or glory—it was a path filled with hardship and sacrifice.
"Is that why you held the tournament?" Grandpa asked coldly.
The man didn't shy away, nodding in acknowledgment. "It's part of the reason. We fully respect the players' choices, though. Even Wang Yingjie—I've already sent someone to contact him."
"That kid with the street fighting style?" Grandpa raised an eyebrow. "He reminds me of you when you were younger!"
The man coughed awkwardly, embarrassed. He had to admit, reaching out to Wang Yingjie after the quarterfinals was, in part, because he saw a bit of himself in the boy.
"Just not sure if that kid will take the offer," he muttered, cracking his neck with a series of popping sounds. "By the way, there's one more thing."
He paused, his tone growing colder despite the smile on his face. "The eighth day of the lunar month, at Qiantang River—make sure you're there to watch the tide."
Seeing the confusion in Grandpa's eyes, the man continued, "There's a good chance something big will go down."
---
"Hey, kid," Wu Ye, wearing oversized sunglasses, leaned against the hospital corridor wall, calling out to the hurried Wang Yingjie. "I've been waiting for you."
"Who are you?" Wang Yingjie looked puzzled but, upon seeing the Pokéballs at Wu Ye's waist, quickened his pace and tried to walk away.
"Why the rush?" Wu Ye reached out, trying to grab Wang Yingjie, but the latter sidestepped swiftly, releasing his Wartortle in the process.
Facing Wang Yingjie and his Wartortle, both of whom were looking at him with hostility, Wu Ye removed his sunglasses, smiling. "Young man, no need to be so aggressive," he said. "I just want to have a little chat with you."
"I have nothing to talk about," Wang Yingjie replied coldly, his gaze fixed on Wu Ye. The man in front of him gave off an overwhelming sense of pressure, making every cell in Wang Yingjie's body scream in alarm. He wanted nothing to do with this man. Retracting his Wartortle, Wang Yingjie turned and walked away quickly. But Wu Ye, unhurried, leaned back against the wall and toyed with his sunglasses. "If you don't want to talk, I'm sure your grandmother will persuade you otherwise."
Wang Yingjie spun around at once, only to see Wu Ye smiling harmlessly. "I suggest you keep your Pokéball put away—nobody here wants any trouble." Wu Ye slipped his sunglasses back on, giving Wang Yingjie a pat on the shoulder as they passed each other. "I'll be waiting for you downstairs at the café."
Wang Yingjie's hand clenched tightly, and after glancing at the hospital room's doorplate, a strong sense of unease washed over him.
Inside the café, Wu Ye slid a contract across the table toward Wang Yingjie, smiling. "Here's a contract for a full-time position. Sign this, and you'll be earning 50,000 yuan a month."
Looking at the bold offer, Wang Yingjie's breathing quickened slightly. He asked, confused, "What kind of job is this?"
"You could think of it as... a job to help more people gain the right to own Pokémon," Wu Ye explained, twirling his finger. Though he smiled, his eyes grew sharp. "Team Galactic—surely you've heard of us?"
"An underground organization," Wang Yingjie scoffed. "I didn't think you'd still be around after all these years. I assumed you were wiped out during the cleansing operation three years ago."
"You actually know about the cleansing operation?" Wu Ye looked surprised, then smiled again.
"Well, that makes things easier. I won't need to pretend to be all friendly and soft anymore," Wu Ye said casually. "Let me put it this way: our boss has high hopes for you." He lounged comfortably in his chair, flashing a smile at the waitress who brought over a dish of ice cream, causing her to blush furiously. "This contract? It's just a formality, a way to keep appearances. Whether you want to sign it or not, you really don't have a choice."
"What happens if I don't sign?" Wang Yingjie asked coldly.
"Don't sign?" Wu Ye scooped up a spoonful of vanilla ice cream, then scratched his head in mock confusion. "If I remember correctly, this hospital next door... it's owned by Team Galactic, isn't it?"
The realization hit Wang Yingjie like a lightning bolt. He suddenly understood that from the moment he rushed home after the quarterfinals to bring his grandmother to the hospital, this so-called Team Galactic had already set their sights on him. Even the decision to place her in an expensive private hospital for better treatment was part of their calculation. The whole thing had been planned by this man from the start.
Wang Yingjie let out a long sigh, silently picking up the pen lying on the table. As he signed his name, Wu Ye's smile broadened, and his tone lightened considerably. "Now, when Team Galactic eventually falls, and the authorities go through their list of names... what do you think they'll say when they see yours?"
"I didn't have another choice," Wang Yingjie said coldly.
"Smart kid!" Wu Ye snapped his fingers, clearly pleased. "That's what I like about you—knowing when to adapt to the situation."
"We'll introduce you to a few familiar faces later, then you're free to move about as you wish." He stood up, sliding his sunglasses back onto his face, a smile stretching across his lips to reveal his white teeth. "Though, yes, this is a criminal organization," Wu Ye added with a smirk, "but trust me, for now, the benefits aren't half bad."
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