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When David finally arrived at the infamous black market, he didn't immediately dive into his shady cube-dealing operation like a criminal mastermind. No, first he went shopping.
Because priorities.
The place was absolutely buzzing, like a Pokémon Center the day after a tournament. Even though it was pushing lunchtime and the sun was doing its best to roast everyone alive, the black market was packed tighter than a Snorlax in skinny jeans. The air was thick with a bizarre mix of burnt sausages, unwashed socks, and what David could only assume was illegal incense.
Stalls lined the alleyways like some kind of shady outdoor mall—if malls sold bootleg Poké Balls and "definitely real" badges.
And the shouting.
Oh, the shouting.
"Don't miss out, don't be shy! One million Alliance coins! That's right, ONE MILLION! You can't buy heartbreak for less! You can't buy disappointment for cheaper! But you can buy a GYM-LEVEL QUASI-LEGENDARY EGG!"
That last bit practically slapped David in the face.
He turned, suspicious yet intrigued, like a man who knew full well he was walking into a scam but still wanted to see the fireworks.
"Quasi-legendary egg?" David muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Here? In this alley that smells like expired ketchup and criminal charges?"
Naturally, he walked toward the source of the yelling. He couldn't resist. He had a nose for trouble, and right now it smelled like gold-plated poultry.
At the heart of the crowd was an overly enthusiastic stall vendor—an uncle-type figure with the energy of a caffeinated Loudred. The man stood behind a foldable table that was definitely stolen from someone's backyard, holding a shiny golden Pokémon egg like it was the crown jewels.
The crowd gasped and leaned in.
"Only ONE MILLION, ladies and gents! Raise it yourself and you'll have a powerhouse that eats Gym Leaders for breakfast!"
The egg sparkled under the cheap LED lamp duct-taped to the ceiling. To the untrained eye, it looked like something a Champion might hatch.
But David didn't rely on untrained eyes.
He casually activated his system panel, and the truth popped up faster than a Magikarp in shallow water:
[Zigzagoon (Normal Type)]
Gender: Male
Level: LV. 0 (Egg Stage)
Ability: Pickup (Has a chance to pick up random trash—uh, "items")
Nature: Timid (Speed +, Attack -)
IVs: HP (0), Attack (17), Sp. Atk (0), Defense (3), Sp. Def (21), Speed (25)
Moves: None
Held Item: None
Potential: Common Trash Tier
David stared at the glowing info screen for a full two seconds, then looked up at the man still screaming about Gym-level potential.
The egg was a Zigzagoon.
Not a Galarian Zigzagoon. Not a shiny Zigzagoon. Just a standard, garden-variety, will-eat-leftovers Zigzagoon. Its combat potential was only slightly above that of a plastic spoon.
David stared at the man like he'd just announced the moon was made of spaghetti.
"This man is a menace," David whispered, equal parts impressed and horrified.
He turned and walked away, resisting the urge to yell, "Hey, anyone want a Magikarp egg that'll evolve into a Dragonite?" just to test the waters.
Still, he had to admit, the hustle was real.
If nothing else, David had gained a valuable lesson: never underestimate the sheer audacity of a black market egg salesman with a megaphone and a dream.
"Hey, brother!" the stall owner suddenly called out, spotting David still staring at the glimmering gold-plated Pokémon egg with a very convincing 'I'm thinking real hard' expression. "Why don't you want this quasi-legendary egg, huh? You've been eyeing it like it owes you money!"
David looked up with a dead-serious face, then crouched down dramatically as if he were a Pokémon professor at a press conference. He peered at the egg like it held the secrets of the universe, rubbing his chin like he hadn't just spent last night Googling 'how to fake being an expert.'
"I've studied Pokémon egg patterns," David said, loudly enough for the growing crowd to hear. "The gilded gloss… the faint pattern that resembles a crown… It's all there. There's no doubt."
He paused for effect.
"This… is the egg of a Larvitar."
Gasps all around.
Someone dropped their soda. A Murkrow cawed dramatically overhead.
David straightened up and threw his arms out like a prophet revealing the truth to the masses. "Yes, folks. A Larvitar egg. This is the child of the Desert Tyrant himself—Tyranitar! The destroyer of cities! The nightmare of Pidgeys!"
The crowd immediately exploded into excited chatter.
"Larvitar?! That's a powerhouse in the Sandstorm meta!"
"Tyranitar is the anchor of every serious team—this is a steal at a million coins!"
"Oh my Arceus, if this is real, I'm gonna mortgage my house!"
The uncle behind the stall blinked, visibly confused. He hadn't expected this kind of crowd control. "Wait a second," he muttered. "Did… did I hire this guy and forget?"
Somewhere in the crowd, another stall vendor stared at David suspiciously. "Hold up. Is he one of ours?"
The confusion didn't matter. The hype was already snowballing out of control.
From somewhere behind the mob, a man in a trench coat and sunglasses suddenly shouted, "I'll buy it! Right now! One million coins!"
Another voice cut through, "No! I saw it first! I'm taking the egg!"
"The egg is mine! I'll fight anyone who gets in my way!"
David, never one to back down from chaos, immediately jumped back in, his voice louder than a Gym Leader's intro theme. "I saw it first, and I'll be the one raising Tyranitar, thank you very much! Anyone who wants this egg will have to go through me!"
With the grace of a street magician and the drama of a theater kid, David dramatically lifted his hoodie to reveal…
A plastic kitchen knife.
A bright yellow, child-safe, made-in-Kanto kitchen knife.
The crowd recoiled with mock fear. Someone giggled. A Machop vendor nearby burst out laughing and gave David a thumbs-up.
"I ain't afraid to use this!" David bellowed. "Don't make me roll for initiative!"
Meanwhile, the uncle running the stall was practically glowing. "Brother! You want the egg? I'll give it to you right now—just pay up before they change their minds! Or I'm selling it to the next guy!"
He looked over at his planted 'customers' in the crowd, giving them the classic 'do your job' glance.
They picked up the signal instantly.
"I'm buying it! Right now! I've got the cash and a Poké-nursery at home!"
"Outta my way, you amateur! I've raised three Salamence! This egg belongs to me!"
The scene escalated from casual scam to full-blown bidding war. Somewhere in the chaos, someone tried to pay with expired Poké coupons. Another pulled out a sock full of coins.
David, meanwhile, continued to hold the fake knife aloft like some kind of vigilante chef. His expression was deadly serious, his eyes locked on the glittering egg of a very ordinary Zigzagoon.
Little did they know, the egg wasn't even close to being a Larvitar.
But at that moment?
It might as well have been a Mewtwo.
It had to be said—these guys were really going for it. The performance they were putting on? Oscar-worthy. You'd think they were auditioning for "Fast & Furious: Pokémon Drift." They screamed, shoved, pointed fingers, and shouted their fake bids like their lives depended on it. All of them were in deep character, fully committed to the drama of fighting over this "quasi-legendary" egg.
But… there was just one tiny problem.
Not a single person was actually paying for the damn thing.
David squinted around theatrically, clutching the shiny egg like it was a sacred artifact stolen from the Temple of Arceus.
"This egg!" he roared. "I claim it as the Bloody Dark King of the Pacific!"
The crowd gasped. Well, some of them did. A few others just stared, confused. One lady near the back whispered, "Is that a new title? Should I know who he is?"
Another scammer stepped forward and screamed, "What kind of pathetic title is that?! I'll pay double for the egg! DOUBLE, you hear me?!"
A third guy elbowed his way in. "I'll pay triple! I'll sell my bike and my Gran's dentures if I have to!"
The crowd was hyped. The tension was boiling. The uncle running the stall was shaking with excitement, rubbing his hands together like a greedy Meowth.
But then his face slowly fell.
He leaned forward over the table, his voice cracking with desperation. "Okay, okay—but will someone just pay already?!"
Crickets.
Not even a single coin hit the table. Nothing but theatrical bidding and dramatic declarations of war.
Of course, none of these people actually intended to pay. They all knew the truth—this egg wasn't legendary, mythical, or anything remotely rare. It was a Zigzagoon egg wearing a spray-painted crown like a pageant reject.
Also, everyone's wallet was emptier than a Magikarp's move pool. If they had real money, they wouldn't be hanging around a shady market shouting fake bids—they'd be in a café, sipping overpriced Moomoo Milk lattes.
It didn't take long for the rest of the crowd to connect the dots.
"Wait a minute," someone muttered, "Are all these loud idiots just part of the stall guy's scam?"
Another nodded. "They haven't paid anything. Not even a deposit!"
A third pointed at David. "Wasn't that guy just selling homemade energy cubes in weird baggies an hour ago?"
The crowd thinned out faster than trainers fleeing from a wild Ursaring.
Realizing his moment was over, David slipped smoothly into the scattering crowd, casually turning away from the now-exposed scam. He walked off like a man who'd just won a court case without saying a word.
Back at the empty stall, only the hired scammers and the now-fuming uncle remained.
The silence was awkward.
[+10 negative emotion from Scammer 1…]
[+10 negative emotion from Scammer 2…]
[+50 negative emotion from the Uncle Stall Owner…]
Ding!
The system's cheerful notifications rang in David's ear like a cash register playing jazz. He had to stop himself from bursting into laughter on the spot.
As he strutted away from the train wreck of a scam, David beamed with pride. "I mean, as the shining flower of the Pokémon Alliance," he whispered to himself, "how could I just stand by and let such obvious fraud unfold in front of me?"
He looked smug enough to be mistaken for a Gym Leader who only used one type but still talked like a world champion.
Now free of the fake egg drama, David resumed his stroll through the black market. And man, this place had everything.
Down one aisle, he spotted a stall selling so-called "secret treasures" from mysterious realms. Sure, they looked like they'd been dropped down the stairs and chewed by a Linoone, but they were real secret treasures—maybe. The price tags were suspiciously cheap, like 'fell off the back of a Pokétruck' cheap.
Still, it was hard to argue with a bargain.
He also passed vendors selling raw evolution stones, ancient relics, and what looked suspiciously like a broken Rotom fridge being passed off as "an antique Ghost-type habitat." A sign above it read: "Spooky Vibes—Only 700 coins!"
David narrowed his eyes. "I've seen better scams in children's cartoons."
The deeper he wandered, the weirder it got.
One booth was selling "Genuine Wartortle Shell Helmets," which were very obviously just repainted salad bowls. Another claimed to offer "Real Zapdos Feathers," which looked suspiciously like dyed Pidgey fluff.
And yet, despite the blatant nonsense, David couldn't help but feel impressed.
The black market may have been a lawless pit of scams and overpriced knockoffs… but it was entertaining.
And in its own weird way, kind of magical.