33. Going To Pewter City
Ya guys know, the 200 power stone thing was going to be started from next week, but one of the reader up there, probably misread it as its already on.
Being the good author I am, I decided to not disappoint him. So here ya go!
--
The city buzzed around us, sunshine warming my skin.
The hustle and bustle of the crowd was a welcome change from the quiet forest I had woken up in just a few days ago.
My stomach, however, couldn't have cared less about the sunshine. It growled, a demanding rumble that said - Feed me, now!
I jabbed a finger at a sashimi stand. "Hey Misty, food!"
Misty eyed the stand with a grimace. "You eat that stuff?"
I shrugged, trying to maintain my cool. "Never tried it. What's not to like?"
"It's Magikarp, you know."
My eyes widened as I watched another girl happily chowing down on a plate. "That thing is a magi-freaking-carp?" I thought, my insides twisting.
Flashbacks to my first moments in this world – face-to-face with that dopey fish, the first thing I ever mimicked – made me gag.
"Don't they have, like, normal fish sashimi here?" I asked, hoping I sounded casual.
"Cerulean City does. They don't eat Water Pokémon there," Misty said, a touch of pride in her voice.
My heart leaped. "Yeah, normal fish sashimi sounds way better," I said, struggling to keep the excitement out of my voice.
Misty nodded, her face still pinched. "Definitely."
"Wait, you've been to Cerulean City?" I asked, feigning surprise.
She hesitated, then mumbled, "I'm from there."
"No way! I've heard it's amazing. You gotta give me the grand tour when we get there, okay?" I nudged her playfully.
Misty's face fell. "Why do we have to go there? There are other cities with normal sashimi, you know."
"Come on, I bet you've got awesome memories there."
She stared off into the distance. "I do have memories, but not all of them are good," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
I backed off, figuring now wasn't the time to push. "Right, well, let's ditch this place and find some edible food, yeah?"
I didn't press the issue. Instead, I changed the subject. "Hey, let's explore this city and find some other food," I said, my tone cheerful.
As we wandered deeper into the city, a commotion ahead drew us in. A crowd had gathered around a street performer, and even from a distance, the air crackled with energy.
"Whoa, check it out!" Misty exclaimed, dragging me closer.
The performer, a wiry man with a manic grin, was juggling three Voltorbs. Not Poké Balls – the actual, spherical, electric Pokémon. Each toss and catch was accompanied by sparks and the occasional mini-explosion, drawing gasps and cheers from the audience.
Misty's eyes widened, a flicker of morbid fascination crossing her features. She took a step closer, but before she could get a front-row seat to the potential electrical apocalypse, I grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"Uh, maybe we should admire from a safe distance, yeah?" I said, my voice a little higher than usual. One errant throw and we'd be picking shrapnel out of our clothes for weeks.
Misty shot me a look that was half-exasperated, half-amused. "Spoilsport," she muttered, but she let me steer her away from the volatile performance.
A short distance away, the delicious aroma of grilled meat stopped me in my tracks. I spotted a street vendor with a sizzling grill piled high with skewers of what looked like chicken. My stomach chose that moment to growl again, loud enough for Misty to hear.
"Kebab?" I suggested, already heading toward the fragrant stand.
Misty shrugged. "Sure, why not."
We ordered a couple of skewers, and I bit into mine with gusto. My eyes widened. "Holy Arceus, Misty, this is amazing!" I moaned, savoring the smoky, savory flavors.
Misty took a delicate bite of her own kebab, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it's pretty good."
I devoured another chunk, barely stopping to breathe. "What kind of meat is this? Some rare Pokémon I've never heard of?"
She snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. It's probably just some lab-grown stuff. They make all sorts of meat substitutes these days."
I paused, mid-chew. Lab-grown? Not gonna lie, that was a little disappointing. Still, it tasted incredible. I shrugged and went back to demolishing my skewer, figuring ignorance was bliss in this case.
---
We stepped out of the Pokémon Center, the bright sun blinding me for a moment. I squinted, adjusting to the light. Misty came running out, her backpack slung over her shoulder.
"You got your things?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah, yeah, done," Misty replied, a little out of breath.
We started walking, the bustling city of Viridian around us.
"So where should we head to?" I asked, trying to sound like I didn't already know the answer.
Misty put her finger on her chin, pretending to think. "We can head over to Pewter City," she said. "There's a gym there. Rock type, if I remember correctly."
I nodded, pretending to be surprised. "Sounds good," I said, trying to hide my internal sigh.
I already knew all that, but I couldn't do anything but nod and pretend I didn't. Man, I really gotta make up some story for all this meta-knowledge I have, otherwise all that info would end up either unused or putting me under suspicion of the people around me.
We walked toward the city gates, talking about things, which frequently involved my poor flirting attempts with Misty.
Oh, and also coming back after travelling for half an hour cuz we forgot to buy the fucking supplies
--
The Poke-mart was, well, underwhelming. It smelled like a mix of burnt electronics and stale protein bars. Not exactly the aroma of home-cooked meals, I'll tell you that. Misty grabbed a shopping basket, her eyes scanning the shelves with a hint of excitement. "Let's stock up, Ditto!" she said, already heading for the food aisle.
I trailed behind her, feeling like I was tagging along on a shopping spree with a friend who was just a bit too enthusiastic.
She grabbed a couple of protein bars, a bag of brightly coloured berries that looked like a healthy snack, and a few Pokéballs. "We also need water," Misty declared, grabbing two large water bottles.
"Can't we just collect rainwater?" I asked, wrinkling my nose.
"Nope," Misty said, "We're not drinking that questionable puddle-stuff." Good call.
She kept adding more items to the basket, including some potions and a book titled "Pokémon Training Tips." I raised an eyebrow at the book, but didn't comment.
As we reached the checkout counter, Misty held up the basket, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. The cashier rang up the total, her voice flat. "That'll be 500 Pokédollars, please."
Misty looks at me with some expectation which I am all too familiar with.
I stared at her, dumbfounded. "Money? You expect *me* to have money? You're the trainer, I'm the Pokémon!" I said with the most indignant tone I could muster.
Misty sighed, "Fine, you big, gooey baby," she grumbled, "but next time, you're buying."
Misty beamed at the pile of supplies. "Wow, we're all set!" she exclaimed, cradling a Poképuff like a baby.
As she rummaged through the bag, a thoughtful look crossed her face. "You know, Ditto," she said, "maybe you should get a bag too. Mine's a bit small for all this stuff."
Looking at the mountain of supplies crammed into her already-bulging bag, I couldn't help but agree. "How exactly did you travel with such a small bag before?" I asked, genuinely bewildered.
Misty, ever the picture of serene grace, huffed and gave me a side-eye. "Duh, my now-fried cycle had space to keep things," she grumbled. "Every time I'm reminded about that blasted wheel, I feel so darn angry at Ash for burning it."
"Easy now, girl," I soothed, "We can buy one later if we need to."
"Okay, okay, get the bag for now," Misty conceded, her temper thankfully deflated.
With a newfound sense of purpose, I marched back into the aisle. I navigated the maze of shelves with the grace of a newborn Tauros, dodging stray Pokéballs and startled trainers.
My eyes finally landed on a blue-red nylon bag that screamed "Dude, this is my bag now" in my head. It was sturdy, spacious, and felt surprisingly comfortable on my shoulder. A real man bag, I thought to myself, smirking.
Feeling like a proud owner of a new backpack, I headed back to the counter, ready to pa- I mean, get my trainer to pay!
--
Route 2. Real original, right? Like they couldn't be bothered to come up with something more creative, something with, you know, flair. I mean, it was understandable to some degree in the games, but doing the same thing here?
Seriously, whoever runs this joint needs a new hobby.
Anyway, I was lumbering along, my new man-bag bouncing happily on my shoulder, Misty trailing behind me. Life was good.
That is, until we came face-to-face with a Caterpie, inching its way across the path. The end. Or at least, it was for Misty. She suddenly went from walking behind me to clinging to my back like a clinging koala with a caffeine addiction.
"Ditto, protect—" she shrieked, squeezing my arms with a force that could crush a soda can.
I looked down to see a bewildered Caterpie, its tiny antennae twitching as it surveyed the scene. Beside me, a vision in orange hair and tight leggings was frozen, her eyes wide as saucers.
She was practically vibrating with terror. I swear I heard a faint whimper.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
The lady-in-orange shot me a look that could curdle milk. "It's a...it's a bug!" she choked out, her voice trembling. "A giant, monstrous bug!"
She was talking about a Caterpie, for crying out loud. It was smaller than a grapefruit! (I mean, its not really that small, but get that emotion!)
I suppressed a groan. This was going to be a long journey.
--
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