"It looks like the Kusaka family is preparing to enter the second stage," Jack muttered, eyes scanning the latest intel he'd just received. "Perfect timing. I need to make a trip to the black market anyway."
Inside his rented room at a Sevenleaf Town hotel, Jack (better known in the underground as the Ghost Fox) calmly analyzed the Kusaka family's strategy. He could tell in an instant: they were shifting tactics. If he went looking for a new agent now, he'd likely end up walking straight into a trap—one of the Kusakas' puppets pretending to offer work.
Fortunately, Jack wasn't desperate. His wallet was full enough to lay low for a while.
Meanwhile, his newly acquired Honedge had already reached level 5—the fastest growth spurt after hatching. Once this period passed, its progress would naturally slow down. Jack had learned to recognize growth plateaus over his years as a mercenary.
He was no stranger to the hidden corners of the world. There were several large black markets he could access, each nestled deep in the criminal underbelly of society. And despite their covert nature, Jack knew the truth: their existence served a purpose—even for the Alliance.
Officially, the Pokémon Hunter Guild was the only legal channel for trading Pokémon. But in reality, it was constantly suppressed by the Alliance's regulations. The rules were supposed to ensure that Pokémon populations weren't over-captured or exploited, in the name of "sustainable development."
But the profits? Astronomical.
No noble family with any ambition was willing to completely abandon such a lucrative trade. And the Four Heavenly Kings? They didn't mind letting black markets thrive either—especially when it gave them leverage over those same families. When the time was right, they'd sweep in with overwhelming force, wiping out entire houses in a single night using evidence they'd quietly gathered over years.
So black markets weren't some chaotic free-for-all. They were designed to exist—each one a powder keg managed by silent consensus between the Alliance's elites, Team Rocket, and the Hunter Guild. None of those three ever showed their faces directly, of course.
That's why the power dynamic in the black market relied on constant checks and balances.
From a mercenary's standpoint, black markets were safer than peer-to-peer trades. Rarer Pokémon, high-grade items, and secret resources were easier to find. But even so, discretion was vital.
Jack had already put on his disguise—a high-grade human-skin mask purchased from a prior visit to this same market—and wrapped himself in a black cloak. His entire appearance was hidden, face and form. Cautious? Maybe. But in places like this, even paranoia was a survival tool.
He wasn't the only one. Many visitors dressed the same way. Because while it was safe inside the black market, the outside world was another matter.
Jack entered the sprawling underground bazaar with practiced ease. He didn't head straight for the auction. Instead, he took a detour into the Pokémon trading district.
The term "black market" was misleading. This place functioned more like a hidden city—each area segmented by trade type.
First came the Pokémon sales zone—the most profitable sector. To open a stall here, vendors had to pay high monthly fees and a "management fee," which was really a protection fee in disguise. Once paid, the market's enforcers would guard your stall from theft or sabotage. If a vendor couldn't control their Pokémon, the black market staff would even help recapture it. Naturally, even the weakest shopkeeper knew better than to skip payment.
Of course, if you were backed by a powerful clan or represented an elite organization, the rules bent in your favor.
Because of the money involved, black market management wasn't just about thuggery—it was strategic corruption. Efficient, orderly, and often smoother than legal markets.
Beyond Pokémon, there were zones dedicated to items and specialized gear. Most vendors focused on certain niches. One shop might sell elemental enhancers—boosters for Fire, Water, or Electric types. Another could deal in rare evolution stones, offering better quality and selection than anything sold aboveboard.
One famous apothecary specialized in custom healing potions, some infused with Sevenleaf flowers, known for their regenerative potency.
Further down was the knowledge sector—offering skill discs, breeding manuals, and elite training guides. In the Pokémon world, it wasn't enough to feed and train your partner. You had to understand how they grew, how much stress they could handle, and how to optimize their evolution path.
True trainers needed deep knowledge—and that came at a steep price. Especially for Ghost-types. Even basic information cost a fortune. And even then, most books only covered specific species. Jack knew he'd go broke trying to build a complete collection.
Luckily, he had his system.
The system could analyze and direct Haunter's growth, bypassing most of the trial-and-error trainers had to suffer through. Without it, he'd be flat broke just trying to raise one decent ghost.
Finally, there was the auction sector.
The auction house rotated sizes and offerings based on schedule and stock. Soon, one of the larger halls would be hosting a mid-tier auction. Jack didn't have the funds to buy up everything, but if a rare Ghost-type or compatible skill disc appeared, he was confident he could outbid the rest.
Still, before that, he decided to browse the Pokémon sales floor. If he got lucky and spotted something suitable, he might snag it for cheaper than auction price.
The auction was drawing people from all over the region. More and more cloaked figures were gathering in the market's main streets.
Some came with full purses and eyes on rare prizes.
Others came with daggers behind their smiles—ready to target winners, rob them blind, and vanish before the dust settled.
And those were the ones Jack had to watch out for.