"Only one or two Gym-level Pokémon?"
Shiro asked again to confirm.
"Uhh..." Professor Rowan froze for a moment.
What did he mean by "only" one or two Gym-level Pokémon?
Could an ordinary person even afford to raise a single standard Gym-level Pokémon?
"Those are pirates!" Rowan stressed the word "pirates," his voice tinged with worry. "That's lawless combat with no rules. You're a researcher. Don't wade into this mess!"
Shiro explained calmly, "I understand. Before I left, I was still competing at the Wyndon Stadium."
"Th-that's not the same thing!" Rowan felt his words growing tangled. "This isn't some friendly Pokémon battle competition! Pirates don't follow rotation rules!"
His tone was urgent, filled with concern.
Out at sea, pirates were an extremely despicable group. Attacking trainers first during battle was routine for them.
Shiro was a top scholar in Pokémon evolution, a researcher with the potential to become a Pokémon Professor. How could he possibly fight pirates?
According to Shiro himself, he had only managed to escape Galar by riding a small fishing boat, purely by luck, without being discovered by Macro Cosmos or League trainers.
He could not have just left Galar, only to immediately get captured by pirates, right?
Rowan anxiously tugged at his beard, far more nervous than Shiro aboard the S.S. Anne. He raised his voice again and spoke earnestly.
"Corviknight! Orders have already been issued within the main League to rescue the victims. Once the route is changed, it can't be reverted. Just listen to Captain Walt. If you encounter pirates later, don't care whether they're negotiating or not. Hide in the engine room at the bottom of the ship."
"There are no other passengers onboard anyway. Walt will tell the pirates that the passengers have already been evacuated. Even if the pirates board the ship, they'll leave once they can't find anyone."
"Professor Rowan, I understand." Shiro nodded. "I know my own strength. If I can't win, I'll run."
"Oh dear. It's not about winning..." Rowan sighed helplessly.
Shiro quickly reassured him. "Don't worry, Professor. I didn't tell you before, but I'm actually the Galar Champion."
Champion? The Galar Champion?
A Pokémon researcher imagining himself as the Galar Champion?
Absurd.
Rowan's throat went dry. He did not know what to say. Just as he was about to respond, he realized the call had already ended.
Not everyone could be Professor Oak. Even Professor Oak had only changed careers after retiring as a Champion.
Shiro was still so young.
And that was a regional League Champion.
Even without counting the Kanto Main League, just looking at other regions, what kind of strength did their Champions possess?
At the very least, they could field a full team of Elite-level Pokémon and continue training Elite-level Pokémon steadily.
A researcher, at most, would only have a few pampered Advanced-level Pokémon. They probably had barely fought any real battles. How could they risk life-and-death combat?
Moreover, if Shiro truly was the Galar Champion, would a Champion really need to sneak away and escape?
Rowan slumped into his chair and slapped his forehead in regret.
He had used connections to arrange for the S.S. Anne, but a single order from higher authorities had forced the cruise ship to change course and take on a dangerous mission.
If only he had found a familiar trainer to stay on the ship beforehand. Then, in a situation like this, they could have taken Shiro and escaped immediately.
Rowan kept tugging at his beard, feeling increasingly puzzled.
Shiro had not been this reckless before.
It felt like he had just been talking past a Psyduck.
No, no...
It had to be that captain of the S.S. Anne, Walt. To avoid being reprimanded by his superiors, he must have privately downplayed the pirates' strength and misled Shiro into agreeing to head toward the pirate nest.
Having identified the main culprit, Rowan angrily called Professor Oak.
The League trainers had to be urged to move faster and rescue them immediately.
* * *
The S.S. Anne continued to sail steadily across the sea.
The night was silent. The starry sky was brilliant. The sea surface below was dark and heavy.
Several speedboats took advantage of the darkness and rapidly approached, docking beside the S.S. Anne almost without a sound.
Brief flashes of red light flickered on the small boats. One Octillery after another used their tentacles to pull trainers up against the hull, then climbed rapidly toward the deck.
In just a few dozen seconds, the first group of eight had reached the deck.
Seeing the dark and empty deck, the lean middle-aged man at the front gave a simple hand signal. The remaining seven immediately split into two groups. One group of three moved lightly into the ship's interior. The other four circled around to search for on-duty crew members.
The lean leader followed the first group into the ship. The four moved with practiced ease up the stairs and eventually reached the corridor of the second-class cabins.
Discovering that it was pitch-black inside as well, the four felt puzzled, but they still followed the plan. One stepped forward and knocked on the nearest cabin door.
The other three stood alert with their Octillery, watching their surroundings. After a few seconds, nothing happened. There was no response from inside the room.
"What's going on?" one pirate could not help asking. "No one left?"
"Shut up." The lean pirate leader spoke softly, then gestured for the others to come closer. "I'll report the situation to the boss. You keep searching inside. Keep it quiet."
"Yes, boss Arne." The three responded, then continued searching along the wall.
Arne quietly retreated back to the deck. Many pirates had already arrived and were crouching along the edges, waiting patiently.
He then took out his communicator and connected the call.
"Boss Red Devil, the situation has changed. The ship is very quiet. There are few lights. It seems there aren't many passengers."
A deep voice came through the communicator.
"I understand. Move faster and capture the captain first. I'll be there shortly."
"Yes."
After responding, Arne entered the ship again.
* * *
Meanwhile, outside the captain's quarters.
Two pirates stood carefully on either side of the door with their Octillery, ready to launch an attack at any time.
Not far away, another two pirates were dragging over a crew member who was tightly bound by Octillery's tentacles.
The crewman's mouth was blocked by a tentacle. He could not even struggle, only letting out faint nasal sounds.
Octillery's tentacles were flexible, soft, yet tough. They could secrete fluids that were either slippery or highly sticky. Its mouth could also spray ink containing toxins, which had a paralyzing effect.
Though Octillery looked unpleasant, using it for murder and plunder on a dark night made it an excellent choice.
Arne followed in from the corridor. Seeing this, he directly took out a Poké Ball and released a Slowpoke.
The Slowpoke skillfully used psychic power to hypnotize the crewman who was bound tightly by Octillery.
In just a short moment, the crewman's hurried nasal sounds stopped. His eyes became vacant.
He stood up and walked stiffly to the captain's door, calling out rigidly.
"Captain Walt! I have an urgent matter!"
Knock, knock, knock…
A pirate knocked on the captain's door.
**
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