Capítulo 18: Chapter 18: Bargains and The Market
The bustling sounds of the Trainer Market hit me like a wall the moment I stepped inside. The air crackled with an intensity I hadn't felt since transmigrating here—part excitement, part desperation. Trainers bartered like their lives depended on it, trading Pokémon, gear, and food with an edge that told me they weren't just here to play. Every shout, every clink of coins, every brag about stats and wins reminded me that I was a long way from being a regular ten-year-old.
I pushed through the crowd, my eyes sharp, taking it all in. The smell of Pokéfood and leather gear mixed with the heat of bodies jostling past me. I wasn't just here for supplies. I was here to size them up—the competition. Everyone in this market thought they were on the rise. Most of them were just fodder, though. They didn't have what I had.
Power.
𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘴, I reminded myself, feeling the weight of my black sling bag. It was compact, barely noticeable to anyone else, but I knew better. Inside it was everything I needed—Pokéballs, Pokedollars, and the limitless storage cheat that set me apart from the rest of them. No one here had any idea who I really was.
My Bulbasaur and Pidgey were in their pokeballs. They were strong, but not enough. Not yet. That's why I was here—to make them stronger. To make 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 stronger. I wasn't going to waste this second chance at life.
I spotted a vendor's stand with shelves packed full of Pokéfood. Basic stuff, nothing special, but it'd do for now. I approached, my red jacket flaring behind me as I walked. The vendor—a gruff, balding man with a scar down his cheek—barely glanced up as I neared.
"You got food for a Bulbasaur and a Pidgey?" I asked, keeping my voice low, authoritative. I knew how to command attention when I needed to.
The vendor grunted, not bothering to lift his head. "Normal feed, kid. Nothing special."
I narrowed my eyes. He had no idea who he was dealing with. "Uncle, premium food for a three days worth. Three Pokémon."
He flinched slightly at the word "uncle," but recovered with a smirk, finally looking at me. "Premium, huh? You sure you can handle the cost?" His voice was gravelly, like he'd been smoking too much. He leaned forward on the counter, eyes sizing me up.
I shrugged, unfazed. "You tell me."
His lip curled. "Premium it is. High-end goes for 1500 Pokédollars a kilo. These Pokémon need about 900 grams a day, give or take."
I did the math in my head, my past life's instincts kicking in. It wasn't even close to touching my reserves, but I couldn't let on too much. I needed to keep a low profile. "How much do they eat in a day?" the vendor asked, clearly trying to trip me up.
I hesitated, just for a second. A tiny gap in my knowledge I hadn't accounted for. "Mostly... they eat at the Pokémon Center," I admitted, voice dropping slightly. Damn. That was careless.
The vendor's smirk widened, sensing the weakness. "First-time trainer, huh?"
I clenched my fist inside my jacket pocket, hating the way he was underestimating me. He had no idea how far off he was. I kept my face neutral, though. I couldn't afford to tip him off. "Tell you what," he said, tapping his fingers against the counter. "High-end, 9 kilos for 13,500 Pokédollars. Sound good, kid?"
I slipped my hand into my bag, pulling out the exact amount without a flinch. The vendor's eyes widened slightly as I handed over the bills, neat and exact. He wasn't expecting that. "Where's a kid like you get that kinda cash?" he muttered, more to himself than to me.
"Let's just say I've got resources," I replied, keeping my tone light but sharp, enjoying the way his brow furrowed. He packed the food quickly, shoving it across the counter.
"How're you gonna fit all that?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.
I glanced down at my bag, then back at him with a casual shrug. "It's new tech. You'll see it soon enough."
The vendor squinted, still not convinced, but I could see he wasn't going to press further. He didn't need to know that my bag had limitless storage, thanks to my cheat. I slid the food in effortlessly, feeling the thrill of outsmarting him buzz through me.
Before I could leave, I turned back, something gnawing at me. "Where can I find more specialized food?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral but sharp.
The vendor, clearly still intrigued by me, pointed down the street. "Trainer Market Association, two blocks down. They've got the high-end stuff, but it'll cost you. Bet a kid like you won't need to worry about that, huh?"
I flashed him a quick grin, my eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Good to know."
As I walked away, the market seemed to close in around me—the noise, the heat, the energy of a thousand trainers all jockeying for position.
My mind raced as I replayed the encounter with the vendor. How had I overlooked something as basic as what my Pokémon ate? That kind of slip-up could be deadly in this world. I couldn't afford to let that happen again. I clenched my fists inside my jacket, reminding myself of my goals. Power wasn't just about the battles. It was about knowledge, control, and preparation.
Bulbasaur and Pidgey depended on me. They weren't just tools to be used—they were my partners. And if I wanted to take over this world, I needed to treat them like it. Bulbasaur, with his cautious nature, and Pidgey, loyal and brave—these weren't Pokémon I could just throw into battle without thought. They required real care. Genuine strategy. And I had to figure out how to give it to them.
The crowd pressed in tighter as I approached the Trainer Market Association, its sleek sign catching the sunlight. This was where the real deals went down. This wasn't for the casual trainers or the wannabes. I straightened my jacket, feeling the weight of my destiny settle on my shoulders.
I stepped inside, my eyes narrowing as the doors closed behind me.
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