Perspective Shift: Blade

‘I hope that I haven’t just made a grave mistake.’ You think to yourself as you leave the small clearing, and Silver, behind. You do believe that she has the right to choose her own path forward, but you can’t help but worry about what will come from following that path. Ariana is a heartless witch; she only cares about herself and things that benefit her. She’s the kind of woman to trample all over anyone who stands in her way or in the way of her methods of personal gain. She’s absolutely the type of person who would place her own daughter in the care of someone cruel and refer to her as a burden. You aren’t sure why the Admin actually kept tabs on Silver, but you doubt it was out of some secret love she held for the girl.

Still, Silver has every right to try and find her, even if it’s extremely dangerous. She proved herself capable enough in your eyes, and she should be fine as long as she doesn’t run into many of your fellow Agents during her quest. Though even if she does manage to locate Ariana, you know that it will not end well for her. The red-haired Admin is not the kind of woman to let a familial bond stop her from crushing someone. You can only hope that Silver manages to make it through whatever happens if she does meet her mother. The taciturn girl is strong, but how strong can one be in the face of a reality like that vile woman being their mother? As well as… Well, in all likelihood there is only one man who could have possibly managed to impregnate Ariana. Only one man who would ever be in a position to… Poor Silver. You’ll have to pray to Arceus that she manages to pull through the painful experiences that no doubt lie in her future. You are the one who has helped her along on this path, so you owe that much to her. And you should probably inform Admin Lianne about Silver’s existence, she’ll want to know…

You’re pulled out of your introspection when you notice the sudden lack of trees surrounding you. Having wandered back through the short section of woods you walked through with Silver, you’ve arrived back in the outskirts of Saffron City. You hadn’t really been paying attention to where you were walking, as it was a straight shot back, and it’s not like you could’ve gotten lost or anything. Looking around at the busiest city in Kanto, you can see that its nightlife is in full swing. The sun has just about set, and the raucous sounds of people enjoying themselves with food, drink, dancing, sex, and all other forms of merriment can be heard throughout the streets of the outer part of town. The residential and business areas the city are likely less lively, but the area you’re in is full of bars, restaurants, nightclubs, and who knows what else.

The noises made everyone having fun wash over you, yet they make little impact on you. They feel alien, in a way. Ever since you joined Team Rocket three years ago, you’ve made little to no time for personal enjoyment. You’ve been entirely focused on performing your duties to the letter, making sure that you earned your keep. That is the only thing that you can do in order to help bring your goal to fruition. Thoughts of your duties bring your attention back to the small metal briefcase in your right hand, and you sigh internally. You’re definitely going to be late handing this off, you just hope that the buyer is still waiting. Disappointing your superiors is the last thing that you want to do, for multiple reasons.

Pushing through the crowd, you begin hastily moving through the outer streets of Saffron City towards the location you’re supposed to meet the buyer at. That you should have met them at nearly an hour ago, before Silver distracted you. Thankfully the meeting spot is nearby to where you exited the city to take her out into the woods, which had been intentional. You should make it there in short order now, as long as you can squeeze through this mass of people all around. You duck around a middle-aged couple, shimmy past a massive man covered in tattoos, and brush past a topless woman who already looks full-on drunk. You weave through the throng expertly, used to moving in a manner that doesn’t attract attention and helps you remain unseen. There was a time you would have joined in on nights like this, at least to some extent, but that time is long behind you, and you may never return to it. A small twinge of sadness forms in your chest as you take in the revelry around you, but it is immediately pushed aside and ignored.

It takes about ten minutes for you to finally arrive at your intended destination; The Shit-Faced Snorlax. A seedy, rundown bar on the edge of town with a poorly drawn picture of a drunken Snorlax holding a stein hanging over the entryway. The exterior is made up of poorly done brickwork, cracked windows, and flickering or broken lights. You open the door and slip inside quickly, being welcomed by the just as unpresentable interior of the place. The smells of **** and tobacco fill your nostrils, and the sounds of off-key music fill your ears. A small stage sits on the far left wall, with a live band performing some of the worst music you’ve ever heard. Round tables full of various individuals fill the center of the room, and a few private booths sit against the right wall. Not that anyone here cares about privacy, as you can clearly see a young woman being bent over a table in the middle of the room, a heavyset man plowing into from behind and chugging beer as the girl moans. Several other people are gathered around, watching and commenting on the show being put on. Maybe waiting their turn, who knows. Plates of greasy food and glasses of cheap booze are dotted around everywhere, and there are nearly three dozen people in the small establishment at the moment.

None of that concerns you however. You make a beeline for the bar counter, sitting against the back wall. Shelves of a variety of different alcohols line the wall behind it, and the bartender is just standing there and watching the action unfold. The stools in front of it are currently empty, as most people are gathered in the center of the room around what has just rapidly started turning into a gangbang. Apparently the people waiting got impatient, and now the woman is being spit-roasted and jerking off a guy with each hand. Her loud moans are muffled by the cock in her throat, and the table she’s spread across is shaking violently, probably not all that sturdy.

You take a seat at the bar, doing your best to avoid touching the stained counter. Those are hopefully just booze stains, but who knows with this place? “Good evening, Rebecca.”

The bartender, Rebecca, is a woman in her late twenties who you’re fairly familiar with, as you’ve been here on business before. She’s wearing tight black pants and a red cut-off tee that shows off the deeply tanned skin of her midriff. Her long black hair is tied back in a messy ponytail, strands of it falling loosely over her face. A tattoo of a Snorlax - much better drawn than the one out front of her establishment - sits on her right arm, also holding a stein.

The woman’s brown eyes flick over to you, a vague look of surprise on her face. “Oh, didn’t even see you there. Hey Hotboi.”

Sighing and shaking your head, you reply. “Why do you insist upon calling me that? You do remember my name, don’t you?”

Her lips curl up in a friendly smile. “‘Course I do Leon. Just…” The woman slowly looks you up and down, an appreciative look on her face. “I mean, do I really need to explain why I call you Hotboi? Seems pretty obvious to me.”

Another sigh escapes your lips. You really don’t understand why people seem to obsess over your looks, you don’t think you’re all that impressive. “Well, anyway, hello. How are you doing?”

The bartender chuckles at your question. “Always so freakin’ polite. I’m doing just fine Hotboi. How’re you?”

You give her a small smile and a shrug. “As well as I can be. Work keeps me busy. Speaking of…”

“Ohhh, right. Yeah, we’ve got a guy in the back room waiting on ya. He’s been here a while though… You running late?” The tan woman cocks an eyebrow at you.

“I am, I got held up along the way. So I hope you’ll excuse me if I cut our conversation short and go meet with my buyer, Rebecca.” You stand up off of the stool you’ve been sitting on, and pull a hefty envelope out of your pocket, which you offer to her.

Taking it and turning back to watch the woman getting fucked in the middle of her bar, Rebecca says “Sure, sure. Go for it. I know the drill by now. Try and stay for a drink next time you’re in town though. It’d be nice to… spend some time with you.”

“We’ll see. Thank you, Rebecca.” Ignoring her suggestive tone, you nod at the bartender, who isn’t even paying attention to you anymore, and walk around to join her behind the counter. A single wooden door that leads to the backroom is your objective, sitting directly behind the black-haired woman. As she said, she knows the drill by now; her place of business has been a place for other kinds of business to occur for quite some time now, and this isn’t her first time dealing with Team Rocket, or even you specifically. She gets paid, you and your buyer get a safe, out of the way place to do business. A simple deal.

Opening the door and slipping inside, you come into an extremely small room with no decoration and little light. A simple wooden table with two chairs, lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, is all that’s really in this room. Aside from the man waiting for you, of course. A middle-aged man, wearing a proper business suit and sweating profusely. He looks extremely out of place in this establishment, in this part of town, and he seems incredibly nervous.

The man practically jumps out of his chair when you walk in. “Who’s there!?” A look of panic flashes through his eyes, and his hands tremble.

“Do you happen to have any Revives on hand?” You ask evenly, not letting his jitters affect you.

The buyer relaxes slightly at the code-phrase, and responds in kind. “I just might, if you have some water.” He plops back down in his seat, then takes out a handkerchief and dabs at his forehead. “I-I thought you weren’t going to show! Or that I had been set up! Or-“

“My apologies for being late. Something unexpected came up, though it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.” You walk across the dimly-lit room, then sit down across from the man. “I have what you’re interested in right here. Do you have the money?” You lift up the briefcase you’ve been carrying and set it on the table between you two. No need to drag this out, you want to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Of course, yes. Right here.” The nervous man says, lifting up a briefcase of his own. “May I see the items I’m purchasing first?”

You’re really not sure how seeing them will do anything, but you’re willing to comply. This is a better reaction than him whining about your tardiness, at any rate. “Certainly. The combination is 7-1-2, by the way.” You swiftly unlock the case, opening it for the man to view under the faint light of the dusty room. Within are six glass vials, sealed tightly and containing bright pink liquid inside. Six doses of RD:A v.078, one of the most popular of Team Rocket’s products, a potent aphrodisiac.

The businessman licks his dry lips, and a gross-looking grin slits his face. “Excellent. All looks to be in order.” He seems to have totally forgotten about you being late, which is good. The last thing you need is for anything negative to be reported to your superiors. “Here, the money. All there, I promise.” He slides his own briefcase across the table, and you shut the one you brought before doing the same. You don’t feel any need to check the money; people don’t cheat Team Rocket. The fates of those who have in the past serve as an excellent deterrent.

There are several possibilities as to what this man intends to do with his purchase; use them for personal pleasure, a partner’s pleasure, on an enemy or rival for various reasons, on someone random to have his way with them, the list goes on. That’s none of your concern though, and frankly just thinking about it makes your skin crawl. “I believe we are done here. I hope you find your purchase worth your while.”

“Oh, I’ll make the most of these, don’t you worry.” The man laughs in a mildly creepy manner, then takes the briefcase and rises. “I’ll make my way out first. Best to go alone, draw less attention. A pleasure doing business with you, have a good evening.” You give him a silent nod of acknowledgment, and he quickly shuffles out of the back room, leaving you alone in the small, dark space.

Sighing, you grab the man’s payment in one hand, then pull out your teleportation remote. Thankfully that went smoothly and ended quickly. Every kind of job you do for Team Rocket tends to make your stomach churn in some way, but at least this felt slightly less immoral than performing one of the Demise’s ‘experiments’. Just hand a man ****, take his money, and go home. Simple. Well, not quite ‘home’. The closest thing you have to a home is your room in your organization’s main headquarters, though that’s not where you need to go now. You need to report this mission to Chief Admin Artemis, the second in command of Team Rocket, so it’s the biggest base in Johto that you’re off to.

The Chief Admin… You shudder as you think about the cruel and unusual woman who heads up Team Rocket’s Johto operations. A sadistic woman who has an unhealthy obsession with the Boss, twisted beyond almost anyone you’ve ever met. And that’s saying something, since you’ve met plenty of twisted people in the crime syndicate you’re a part of. Alberich, Ariana, the Boss, Abyss, and so many more… Artemis is right up there with all of them in terms of heartlessness. You never look forward to talking to her, and yet that is what you must do.

Steeling yourself as you have many times before, you push a button on the silver device in your hand and vanish from the back room in a flash of white light, off to complete your mission.