What Scorpion?

After evading everyone tailing him, Aoki made his way to a rundown shop that stood out starkly from the more polished establishments surrounding it.

Inside, the shop was cluttered with tattered shelves holding moldy food, and cobwebs stretched across nearly every corner. Venturing deeper into the store, an unpleasant stench of rot hit Aoki's nose.

Despite the foul odor, Aoki didn't retreat. This shop was a familiar haunt from past experiences.

It was a mask shop.

Though shabby in appearance, the shop had a reputation in the black market, thanks to the skill of its peculiar owner. The man possessed exceptional craftsmanship but seemed uninterested in fame or fortune. Instead, he operated the shop with a bizarre, detached attitude, relying only on a small number of loyal customers. His reputation spread only by word of mouth among frequent buyers, keeping his business afloat.

Aoki brushed away a dangling cobweb as Murkrow, perched on his shoulder, flapped its wings to clear the air with Tailwind, avoiding the sticky webs.

At the back of the shop, an older man with glasses sat behind a counter, completely engrossed in crafting a mask. He didn't even look up as Aoki approached.

The man worked with intense focus, as if the mask he was making was a priceless treasure. Strangely, once a mask was completed, he would toss it aside as if it were garbage and immediately begin crafting the next one.

"Boss, I need five masks," Aoki said, covering his mouth to block the sour stench that clung to the room.

Without lifting his head, the man replied, "Masks are on the floor. Pick what you want. Swipe your card at the table. Each one's 20,000 Pokédollars. Swipe it, or get out. I'm not here to cater to anyone."

Aoki, familiar with the man's quirks, didn't argue. He quickly picked five masks from the scattered pile on the ground. Each one had a distinct design, no two alike. After swiping a total of 100,000 Pokédollars, Aoki left the shop without wasting time.

The shop owner's masks were renowned for their uniqueness, a major reason Aoki always purchased from him. Unlike others, this shop guaranteed no duplicates. Each mask had a one-of-a-kind appearance and style, making them invaluable for those who needed to avoid recognition.

Once outside, Murkrow inhaled deeply, as if cleansing its lungs from the overwhelming odor.

Aoki chuckled, lightly tapping Murkrow's head. "Alright, that's enough. You'll need to get used to these situations. Some opponents might smell even worse than that shop."

"Caw! Caw!" Murkrow squawked in disbelief, its eyes wide with exaggerated shock.

"Trust me," Aoki said with a laugh. "One day, you might face foes like Gloom or Muk. Compared to them, that shop would smell like a flower field."

Still chuckling, Aoki made his way into a secluded alley. Before entering the black market again, he needed to change his appearance.

Taking out one of the newly purchased masks, Aoki examined its craftsmanship. Despite the shop's filth, the masks were immaculately clean. Thin and translucent, they fit seamlessly onto the skin. He placed one on his face, adjusting it carefully. The mask adhered naturally, leaving no trace that it was fake.

Just as Aoki finished applying the mask, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the quiet alley.

Startled, Aoki quickly ducked into a narrow gap, his hand instinctively resting on the Pokéball at his waist. If necessary, he was ready to release Slowpoke to fight or escape with Teleport.

The footsteps stopped nearby. Before Aoki could act, he heard one of the two intruders speak, their voice sharp and nervous.

"Bro, why aren't we heading straight out of the black market? What are we doing here?"

A loud smack followed, accompanied by a rough voice. "Idiot! We can't leave yet. Everyone's still on high alert. We'll hide here until the heat dies down. Once it's clear, we can sneak out unnoticed. We might even sell the goods today."

"Is it really worth all this trouble?" the sharper voice asked hesitantly.

"Of course it is!" the rough voice snapped. "You think I'd go through all this for something worthless? I overheard them talking. This is no ordinary Pokémon egg. It's a rare one, straight from Sinnoh."

Listening from his hiding spot, Aoki's interest piqued. "A Sinnoh Pokémon egg, stolen? Could they have targeted a Trainer or a hunter? Either way, it must be valuable."

"How much is it worth?" the sharp voice asked again, excitement creeping in.

"Easily hundreds of thousands," the rough voice replied. "From what I overheard, it's supposed to hatch into a high-quality scorpion Pokémon. That's why they brought it all the way to Saffron City—to sell it on the black market."

"Hundreds of thousands?! We're rich!"

"Keep your voice down, you idiot!"

The conversation continued, but Aoki remained still, calculating his next move.