Early in the morning, Jack stood on the ship's deck, a salty sea breeze brushing across his face as he began another uneventful day.
Though Jack was now quite wealthy, he remained committed to never flaunting his riches. So instead of booking a luxury cruise, he opted for a standard passenger ship.
It had everything a traveler might need, but the space was limited—there was no room for training battles, and very little for Pokémon to roam freely.
Of course, Water-type Pokémon were an exception.
For them, the endless ocean wasn't a limitation—it was the ultimate battlefield.
But for Jack, the days at sea were painfully dull.
If it weren't for the self-discipline he'd built up over years of covert operations, he might've put on some serious weight by the time they reached the Hoenn region.
After another slow morning of basic exercise, Jack had lunch, then returned to his room for a nap.
Around 4 p.m., he stepped back onto the deck, rented a fishing rod from the crew, and began casual fishing over the rail.
Even though the ship was in motion, the bait trailing behind in the ocean could still attract large fish—or even wild Water-type Pokémon.
The ship's policy was simple: if you caught a fish, you could either release it or pay a small fee to have it cooked by the ship's kitchen.
At first, Jack enjoyed this novelty. He even treated himself to a few freshly cooked fish meals.
But after several days at sea, even the finest seafood became tiresome.
Fish, fish, and more fish—every single meal.
Even for someone who loved seafood, it was enough to kill his appetite.
Still, Jack stuck with it.
Partly because there wasn't much else to do…
But mostly because catching a Water-type Pokémon this way meant he could claim it for himself, adding to his team without spending money or fighting in the wild.
And maybe Jack's luck was finally turning.
Within the span of an hour, he reeled in three sizable catches, stunning the surrounding passengers.
His hot streak seemed to be contagious—soon, even travelers who'd had no luck before began catching fish.
But Jack wasn't celebrating.
He knew this kind of mass activity meant only one thing—something was wrong beneath the waves.
Without hesitation, he packed up his rod and moved away from the rail. In the shadows, he whispered for Haunter and the others to get ready.
He also discreetly took out a tamed Water-type Pokémon he had purchased before the voyage, just in case.
There were two types of Pokémon sold on the black market.
One type was untamed—often traumatized, distrustful, and difficult to bond with. But if you succeeded, their growth potential remained intact.
The second type was fully tamed—their wild instincts were stripped away through forceful conditioning, turning them into little more than obedient machines.
They followed commands without question, but at a steep cost: permanent stunted growth, fragile health, and short lifespans.
It was exactly why unauthorized wild captures were outlawed.
Still, Jack had bought one such tamed Pokémon purely as a safety measure for the open sea. He hoped he'd never have to actually use it.
Not long after Jack left the fishing deck, the disturbance reached the ship's crew.
The boatswain, a veteran of the seas, immediately ordered all tourists back to their cabins.
The crew began to secure the ship and man their stations.
He then notified both the captain and first officer.
Based on years of experience, the boatswain suspected a high-level Water-type Pokémon was hunting nearby.
The sudden congregation of fish near the ship likely meant they were fleeing from a predator—and the predator might not stop at just fish.
Ships like this, even on "safe" routes, were never truly risk-free.
In open waters, you could never predict if a powerful territorial Pokémon would emerge from the deep.
For this reason, most sailors on these vessels were licensed Pokémon trainers.
But the three pillars of any ship's defense were always the captain, first officer, and boatswain( a ship's officer in charge of equipment and the crew. ).
The chain of command was vital—especially during emergencies or in the face of pirates.
As the captain and first officer joined the deck, they immediately deployed their Pokémon.
"Blastoise, dive! Scan for threats underwater and report back. If something's approaching, force it to the surface!"
The captain's trusted partner, a Blastoise, dove into the sea.
Jack, watching from a concealed vantage point, activated his system scanner but couldn't get a read.
This Blastoise… was gym-level in strength.
Normally, someone with a gym-tier Pokémon would captain a high-end, elite vessel.
But this man stayed aboard a standard ship.
The reason?
Loyalty.
The captain had once been a young sailor, taken under the wing of a mentor who'd built this very ship by hand—helping him catch his first Pokémon and teaching him everything about life at sea.
That mentor's dream was for the ship to sail until its final days.
The man was long gone, but the ship remained.
So, in memory of his master, the captain chose to stay—guarding the vessel with pride.
Beneath the waves, Blastoise swiftly picked up the approaching Pokémon using its aura-sensing abilities.
It didn't hesitate.
Drawing on its combat instincts, it masked its presence and began to charge up.
Moments later, the predator appeared—a Gyarados, charging forward in a hunting frenzy.
Blastoise attacked first.
Hydro Cannon!
Caught completely off guard, the Gyarados was blasted skyward by the devastating surge of water.
From the deck, the passengers and crew saw only a towering geyser erupt—and then a massive Gyarados went flying through the air.
But this Gyarados didn't look majestic or terrifying.
It looked like a limp, soaked eel—crashing into the waves like a ragdoll.