Thanks for all the support on my Patreo-n so far! 3 advanced chapters at /xlucqs.

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  Please join! Let's make it active and easier to speak with other members of the community! The community is growing and is quite active at the moment! If you wanna discuss about Pokemon, send artwork and memes, or just speak to other people, then go ahead and join! There is also information about the story which is useful to have on hand such as William's Pokemon.

  Also, sorry for being radio silent for so long, if you are apart of the discord you would know I broke my elbow which is why there have been no chapters for this long. I should be back to weekly updates from now on. Thanks for your support.

  They continued drinking into the night. The fog outside thickened, curling to the current of the wind, night darkening, yet the lamps and lights that kept the room illuminated stayed on. For the first time in a while, William began to relax.

  He was so accustomed to being tense and alert that his body had forgotten what it was like to be momentarily free of all that. He kept his drinking constant, but in longer and longer intervals, and in between those intervals were intervals where he would drink water in order to stay sober. He wanted to relax, but he still wanted to be able to think clearly and formulate his words and be in control of his actions.

  Matt and Shelly were the same. Shelly kept her drinking to a minimum, while Matt, although drinking more, managed to stay sober due to how massive his frame was. If something sudden were to happen, they wouldn't be helpless and woozy.

  It was already past 3 am when William began to feel his eyes flicker. His body felt relaxed, and he struggled to stay upright in his chair. The effects of the night were beginning to take a toll on his body. It was time to get some rest. But before he rested, there was one last order of business.

  William went through one of his desk drawers. He brought out a card. Shelly's eyes, dancing with drunkenness, lit up in recognition, all hints of alcohol now gone. She leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

  "That's…"

  William nodded. "Another invitation." It was structured the same as the last one. A white card, carrying the official stamp of the champion—with ink words written like calligraphy stamped and stuck to the page. The card even carried a light fragrance of lavender and cinnamon.

  Matt tilted his head in confusion.

  "It's a party for rich people," William clarified. "Last time it was at the Crestwell Manor—Wallace's family home. This time it's at the Grand Central Stadium. It's no Crestwell Manor, but it is close."

  The Grand Central Stadium was located in the heart of Sootopolis City. Even from the neighbouring routes, it was a sight you couldn't miss. They had gone all out, and befitting its name, it turned out to be a gigantic stadium. There were food courts and pokecenters and pokemarts—everything in the region was practically available in this stadium.

  Outside of events, it functioned as its own shopping mall—but there was rarely a time when there wasn't one. Conference League matches, exhibition matches, challenges made to the Elite Four, Pokémon contests, graduation ceremonies, sports matches—they had designed the stadium to be a place where it could host practically anything and bring in as much money as possible.

  And it did.

  "The conference league!" Matt and Shelly said at the same time, eyes lighting up. No matter how villainous they were, the conference league turned them into children again.

  "Yep. They are hosting all the way from the knockout rounds to the final. It's one of the most anticipated days every year. Tickets can go for thousands. Millions of people pay for licenses to watch it," he looked towards Matt. "Others watch it illegally."

  "That was your idea, you know," Matt defended. He turned to Shelly: "Was always complaining about the costs and finances of paying for a licence. Said we should just watch it illegally. He said, 'I mean, what are they going to do? Arrest us?' " Matt boomed with laughter.

  William cleared his throat. "Anyway, the point is the conference league is awfully popular. Especially this year—Devon Corp's golden boy is participating. He's the favourite to win this whole thing. Everyone wants to watch the future of the region battle in person."

  "I've heard of him. Steven Stone," Shelly said. "Who hasn't? He's been on the front page of every magazine for the past couple of months. He's strong—I've seen some of his gym battles, which were posted to the web. Do you think he will be…a problem for us?"

  William certainly hoped not. Right now, his biggest problem was Maxie. First, he would deal with that, and then he could deal with Steven and Wallace and anyone else who got in his way.

  William shook his head, body relaxed and calm. "Not for now. Still," William waved the ticket in the air, "These are not just normal tickets for some seats at a stadium. This…is a much more expensive ticket. This is an invite from the Champion himself, same as last time. The most powerful influential people in the region will be watching themselves—in person. They'll have their own little box at the top of the stadium where they can see everything," He raised his eyebrow at Shelly. "Are you coming?"

  "Of course!"

  "Even after what happened last time?" William responded.

  Shelly had the decency to flush. "I'm not the same person I was back then," She said, voice gaining a hard edge, " I know how to play the game now."

  "Taught by the best," William said, nodding. "This year's conference league is shaping up to be one of the most popular ones yet. The last one with as much traction as this is when Wallace participated," William still remembered that day.

  Dressed in torn rags, stomach growling, blue eyes sunken, he watched the TV through the glass of a store as Wallace appeared, blowing kisses towards the crowd. He was dressed in the finest of clothing, full of energy and life, eyes shining as cameras flashed all around him. The camera then panned to Wallace's father, usually stern-faced, wearing a slight smile on his face. The smile returned when he won as well. It was quite a convincing win. The shopkeeper hadn't even noticed him; the fight was that fast.

  William returned to the present. "I think this one will trump anything we have ever sold out in seconds—100,000 of them. Commercials cost an arm and a leg, considering how many people will be watching. It's all everyone has been talking about for the past month. Steven Stone. Everyone is going to see him. And if everyone is going, then that means everyone. The Champion, the Elite Four, Gym Leaders, businessmen—not just from Hoenn, but from all around the world."

  Shelly remained stone-faced.

  "Not intimidated?" William asked.

  Shelly shook her head. "Not in the slightest,"

  "Good, that's the kind of thinking I need. This will be much different from the last one. It won't just be people from Hoenn trying to curry favour with the champion. There will be people from other regions, each with their own goals and personalities." William leaned back in his chair, yawning. "Let's go get some sleep."

  Shelly and Matt replicated his yawn. "Agreed."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  —

  They arrived in Sootopolis a couple of days later. No longer Poseidon and Ashe, now they were William, the strong-headed owner of Neptune shipping, and Shelly, the benevolent owner of a charity which had recently been gaining traction. It made sense why they would know each other—both of their goals centred around the sea.

  William had been making the sea safer, while Shelly had been improving the quality of it. William decided to dress in a blue suit, matching his hair, while Shelly went for a blue dress, similar to the one she had last time, only now decorated with bright blue sapphires in the centre of her chest, creating a heart-like shape which dazzled and gleamed in the Hoenn sun.

  The instructions on the letter were clear. Enter through the back, show the card, and the stadium's security would do the rest. They arrived in a black limo with tinted glass, their own security trailing them vigilantly. Their big bodies protected them from the view of any onlookers.

  They were led inside the stadium and then through a couple of hallways, with security cards scanning, doors beeping open. They stopped at an elevator.

  "Right this way, the elevator will lead you straight there." The man who looked to be the head of security said. The doors opened wide, inviting them in.

  "Whew," William whistled. The elevator was huge, floors made of metal and patterned like marble, and walls decorated with blue and red flowers, and music playing quietly from a nearby speaker William couldn't spot. It was nice and relaxing— a very sharp contrast to the place we were about to go to. These events were always disguised as a way to relax and rest, and socialise—but up there, everyone had their own hidden agendas.

  It was very much the case last time—when those three businessmen plotted to kill him.

  The elevator continued rising further and further upwards, smoothly and efficiently. With each second that passed, the anticipation in his stomach slowly multiplied.

  "I won't babysit you. You'll be on your own," William said.

  "I don't expect you to babysit me. I can more than handle myself," Shelly said.

  William nodded. "Good. Make some connections—they could help us out in the future."

  "Got it,"

  And the elevator stopped. The doors opened.

  Bright lights from overhead almost made William cover his eyes. The private box reserved for the champion was truly a sight to see. It was a large open-plan space, skipping decoration for simple colours and simple designs of black and white—which could maybe be considered an artistic choice itself. The walls were white, while the frames surrounding the windows were coloured black. The dining chairs were also black, while the table was technically white, considering it was covered in a white linen cloth.

  Simple, easy colours. Here, there was no need to show off with any fancy or shiny colours. A place here, on the top floor, meant you were already influential enough to have seen the gold and the silver a million times before, or that you could easily afford it yourself.

  William nodded in silent agreement. He looked left and then right. The room was massive— in fact, it covered the entire length of one side of the stadium. It was located at the furthest point upwards, so if you were to walk to the edge of the room, large glass windows would stop you, but give a bird's eye view of the whole pitch.

  William and Shelly were scarcely noticed as they made their way in. They split off in opposite directions. William was hit with a sore sight almost immediately. They were hard to make out at first—given that they were surrounded by dozens of people—but as the people moved and shuffled around, William slowly pieced together who they were.

  Red hair, spiky. Stern face. Sharp features. A cape.

  Lance, William thought with hatred, blood boiling.

  The man, usually serious, seemed the opposite. He was all smiles and laughs. He seemed slightly drunk, both on the drink and the attention.

  William resisted the urge to glare at the man who had almost killed him. He remembered that day—out in the ocean, where all hope seemed lost. Whenever William was alone and had time to think, it was hard not to go back to that day. Meteors and hurricanes, lightning and tsunamis. Heart pumping, throat dry, muscles weak. It was a feeling he couldn't forget.

  The day came with a great victory— but also a reminder of how quickly he could lose his life. All of his plans, goals, dreams—ended right there. And it nearly happened because of the man standing across him.

  It was the closest to death he had ever come. To grab the man by his flamboyant, fluttering cape and throw him through the glass so he could plummet to his death was something he wished he could do. He took a deep breath and controlled himself. If Maxie were here, he'd need to do the same.

  He stopped glaring before the dragon trainer noticed, turning back to sipping his drink. However, given the way someone else was staring at him, it seems Lance had more than a few enemies in this place.

  "If looks could kill, you would have shot lasers out of your eyes and vaporised him," William said. The woman had barely noticed William walk up to her, continuing to stare icy glaciers at Lance.

  The woman snapped out of it, looking him up and down. "Who are you?" She was tall—not as tall as William, but more than the average woman.

  "My name's William, and you are?"

  "Lorelei," The redheaded woman responded. In one hand, she held a drink, while the other hand pushed her glasses up slightly.

  "Lorelei…" William tested the name. "You're one of Indigo's Elite Four, right?"

  "That I am," She responded coolly.

  He pointed in the direction she was glaring. "And that over there is another member of your Elite Four, right? I heard he may be challenging for the Champion position soon—that's probably why he's getting so much attention. Are you trying to kill him with your stare so you can take the opportunity for yourself?"

  "No…" She let out a breathless chuckle. "I'm glaring at him because he is a stupid idiot. It's unbecoming of an Elite Four member to get drunk at a foreign event, much less when you have loose lips when you have been drinking. And that is a problem when you hold national secrets."

  "I see," William nodded. "And what about you? Do you turn into a massive bitch when you start drinking?"

  Lorelei paled. "What?! I haven't been drinking!"

  That's the thing you picked up on?

  "So, you're just a massive bitch in general then?"

  No longer was she glaring at Lance—but at William. The stare was indeed ice cold. Through her glasses, William could see her cold red eyes. He felt a shiver go through his spine.

  "If you are an Elite Four of a region, then you should probably be doing more than standing at the edge of the room, glaring at your future champion. It's not a good look." William explained.

  "And you shouldn't go around calling people bitches!" Lorelei rebutted, face flushing red like her hair.

  "Well," William broke eye contact, looking out at the rest of the room, each absorbed in their own conversations. "You're welcome to go tell any of these people that you were insulted by me. I'm afraid it would destroy my reputation."

  "Maybe I will," Lorelei huffed, and in a rage, strutted off in her heels. She started a chat with someone nearby, glancing back at William, before paling at the realisation. She was socialising at the event. She had been tricked.

  William raised a glass. Lorelei turned back, now—voluntarily or not—absorbed in conversation. He imagined it wouldn't be the last he would hear of her.

  It wasn't long before hours had passed. Slowly, as William spoke with more and more people, so did the stadium fill up. The seats began to fill, anticipation building, even among the people here.

  "I put money on Steven Stone to win this," a businessman told him.

  "I put money on anyone except Steven winning this," another one said the opposite.

  He even spoke to Joseph Stone, who looked the happiest he had been in a while. The confidence he had in his son winning was almost inspiring. William knew from his past life that Steven would end up being one of the strongest trainers in the world—so naturally, he also bet on Steven.

  He also spoke to Joseph about other things:

  "Is Maxie here?" William asked, looking for the red-headed middle-aged man.

  Joseph shook his head. "He said he was too busy working on a company project."

  "Really?" William questioned.

  "Why? What's wrong?"

  "Well…" William paused. "I don't mean to speak ill of him…but I've heard some strange rumours about him."

  "What kind of rumours?" Joseph leaned in.

  "Not positive rumours. But, I think I'm obligated to tell you. I've heard whispers on my ships from customers—that Maxie is stealing funds from the company. The whispers mentioned stealing money from behind your back to fund…a group, I think. They mentioned it was a group of violent environmental activists."

  "Team Magma!" Joseph's eyes widened.

  "I'm not sure," William shrugged. "Now I wouldn't come to you if it were just the words from a drunken passenger. But…I've had multiple reports from my employees of rumours like these. Some of them… carrying backpacks of Devon Corp items. I've heard these reports numerous times—enough so that it is isnt a coincidence. I would…implore you to investigate."

  Joseph, still shaken up by his words, weakly nodded. "Thank you, William. If this information is true…then you may have saved me a great deal of problems in the future."

  William clasped his hand gently. "That's what business partners, but also friends, are for ,right?"

  "Yes, yes. Of course," Joseph replied. "You're a good man, William, for telling me this. After my son wins the conference league, I'll introduce you to him. Now, excuse me, I have to make a few calls." He rushed off to a nearby private room.

  William watched him go off, trying to contain the smirk building on his face. Well, hopefully that's that sorted.

  Going into this war with Team Magma, one of the things William could do was expose Maxie's public identity. This would force Maxie into hiding, and make it so that the funds from Devon Corp wouldn't go to Team Magma. he would cut off what was their main source of funding currently.

  On the other hand, Team Aqua could raid ships for money, and they could also use some—not many— of Neptune Shipping's money in order to fund this war coming up. It would work as long as William kept his public identity safe.

  However, as William spotted a certain man in a black suit walking towards him, staring straight at him, he realised it may be a challenge.

  Time to meet the boss of Team Rocket in person.