Lieutenant Colonel (That was his name, not his rank) Surge did actually keep abreast of the comings and goings of his city. As much as one man could, at any rate.
It was a -City-, not some dinky little one-Mudsdale town in the heart of Unova. There were more ships coming in than he could name, more cargo passing through his port than any other part of Kanto and more wealth trading hands in any one week than the rest of the League saw in a year.
He couldn't keep track of everything. The Jennies couldn't keep track of everything. Not even the Rockets really knew what all was happening. More than most, sure, but the thing about the Black Market was that nobody trusted anybody, especially if they did business with 'em.
Today was a slow day for the massive Unovan. No gym challengers meant he could focus on other pursuits. Sometimes that meant special training with his PokeMon, today that meant following up on something one of his own informants had tipped him off about.
A kid was coming in to his informant's shop, a little hole-in-the wall pawnshop off the main road, and was dropping off some high-dollar stuff. Not a lot, not all at once, never more than he could carry by hand...
But it was like clockwork. Kid shows up, drops off something in pristine condition-
Factory new, according to the squealer.
-gets ripped off and then goes on their way.
Once or twice wouldn't be too noticeable. If the kid was dropping off the same thing, it'd be questionable albeit in a different direction. Wouldn't be the first time someone found a 'Lost' shipment and didn't understand how to move stuff quietly.
It was unusual enough that Surge decided to take the time to get a personal look at things. He was in the pawn shop 'Jack & Hoff's Pawn and Trade', waiting. Not obviously, he wasn't an infiltration expert but he knew how to not stand out like an Unovan in Kanto...
No, he really didn't.
Surge was in the middle of examining a good looking television, sitting on the floor of the cramped store with its remote taped to the top of it. The price wasn't great but the unit itself looked brand new.
Probably one of the ones the potential thief had dropped off.
Surge heard the doorbell jingling and had to restrain himself from turning around, choosing instead to look at the reflection off of some of the other devices to see who'd come in.
A kid, a bit on the bulky side. Weird features, though. Fuzzy brown hair and bright yellow eyes. Not what Surge would normally expect from the locals. The kid had a couple of VCR players stacked on top of each other.
"Yo, Jack!" The kid yelled, his head tilted to the side to see around his haul. "Got somethin' for ya!"
"What?!" Jack Hofferson shouted from the back, squeezing his rotund figure out through a narrow door situated behind the counter. "Aww, come on, kid! I ain't got room for more junk!"
"Alright." The kid turned right back around. "Later."
"Wait!" Jack shouted as the kid tried to balance his electronics between one hand and knee so he could open the door, making him pause. "Fine, geeze. You got no patience brat, you know that?"
"Patients are for doctors, you fat prick." The kid mocked, turning right around and gently placing his stack on the counter. A few seconds later and he'd fished the remotes to them out of his pockets. "Just got done fixing these up. How much you gonna offer for 'em?"
"What are you doing when you fix 'em up?" Surge raised a blonde eyebrow at the pawnbroker's question. Jack didn't usually bother being overt. "Pullin' these right out the boxes?"
"We both know they'd be worth more in the boxes, asshole. Not my fault your regulars think spit and wishes will fix somethin' enough to be worth somethin'." Looking around the kid, Surge had to admit that the units looked like they were brand spankin' new. Heck, one looked like the unit he'd thrown away the year before, looked the same as the day he'd unboxed it! "Think I'm alright on cash at the moment. How about trying some of that trade you promised?"
"Finally decide I've got somethin' you want?" Jack grinned, an ugly look considering he was missing several teeth.
Surge had been there when the man, drunk, had decided to try picking a fight with a Machop. It hadn't gone at all as Jack intended.
Jack was plastered, Jack was thick. Jack fell down when he got low-kicked.
"Finally decided everything nearby is trash." The kid disagreed, an unimpressed look on his face. "Jerkoffs at the docks are trying to upsell some dull trash because it's foreign. More respectable places ain't willing to sell to me at all. So here's what I'm thinkin'. You get both of these and I get that hunk of rust on the back wall."
Surge and Jack both followed where the kid was pointing to. A short sword, the blade pitted and tassel torn which sat in front of a scabbard that clearly suffered from dry-rot. There was an orb in the center of the cross guard but it looked like it was made of glass instead of anything valuable.
"That was my grandfather's sword." Jack lied immediately. "I can't let it go for that!"
"Alright." The kid instantly agreed. "Cash it is, then."
"...Trio feathers, kid." Jack sighed, running one hand down his face. "You're bad at this, you know that? You tell me what you want, I give you some grief, we bicker back and forth over the price- Hagglin' is an artform, kiddo. What do you even need that antique hunk a junk for?"
"I know what haggling is." The kid rolled his eyes, the little shit. "And I'm bad at it. I've made an offer, you didn't make a counter offer. And for the sword, I'm planning on hitting the road soon. I'll need something to stab people with if they decide to get a little too handsy."
"Geeze..." Jack shook his head and turned around, stretching pretty hard to reach the old thing. "We got newer stuff, kid. This thing has got to be about thirty percent rust, at the least."
"Newer, yeah, but it's all junk. The survival knives here are those hollow-handled pieces of crap. I don't trust myself with a switch blade or butterfly knife, so those are out." The kid accepted the sword carefully when Jack held it over the counter. "What? No cleaning kit?"
"What do you think this is, kid?" Jack laughed, his belly jiggling. "You want to get your rust all sharpened up, go talk to the blacksmith on the main road. I sell goods, not cleaning kits."
"Fine, fine." The kid held the scabbard of the sword in his off-hand with more surety than Surge was expecting. Shimmying the blade into it was a slow, awkward affair but again, the kid actually looked like he knew what he was doing. "I'll see if I can find anything decent tomorrow. How quickly do computers move for you?"
"They don't." Jack immediately replied. "At least this crap I can move to some other sellers. Nobody knows what to do with a computer if it ain't one of the video-conference units at a PokeMon Center."
"Gotcha, gotcha." The kid turned around and headed for the door, hunk of rust held under one arm. "Alright, I'll catch you tomorrow."
The bell over the door jingled merrily as the kid stepped out. Surge moved towards the window at the front of the shop as the boy got on to a scooter and pushed off.
It was a bright red scooter, no engine on the back. It had a wide platform to stand on and had large, inflatable tires that would have fit right in on a heavy-duty wagon.
Not long after the kid got moving, Surge saw a Houndour reveal itself from behind a post office box, sniff at the air and then take off after him.
Surge shook his head and turned around, leaning over the counter.
"Weird kid, right?" Jack asked him, picking up one of the VCR units as he did so. The man started off by checking the plug, then opening the flap and peering into the unit itself. "No idea where he's gettin' this stuff. Some of it, had to look it up, ain't been made in years."
"That is pretty odd." Surge agreed as he picked up the unit that looked just like his old one. "I remember buying one of these almost a decade ago. Real Mudsdale of a unit, just kept chuggin' along. Real quality Unovan manufacturing. Not like the crap we're gettin' these days."
"Might be a Psychic?" Jack asked as he began to inspect the other unit. "Heard some of those fellas can levitate stuff. Rumor is, that girl up north? Sabrina? Some folks are saying the nutjob can Teleport."
Surge winced and very cautiously began to look around, his eyes on the shop window as he saw a flash of purple hair outside. The soldier held his breath but there was no sign the lunatic or her crazy little doll had heard them.
Sure, she was kilometers away... But psychics like Sabrina were scary for a reason.
"Don't even joke about that." Surge whispered angrily. "You know there's a Drowzee colony nearby! They might be listening!"
"...You know that's just a hoax, right?" Jack asked, obviously concerned. "It's not like every psychic PokeMon nearby is answering to her just because she's really gifted."
"I know that!" Surge agreed, still whispering angrily. "It's not every psychic! Just..."
Surge sent another panicked glance at the window but saw nothing.
"Just... Most of them."