Pokémon: I’m Really Not a Team Rocket Spy

The next morning, after a quick wash, Maki prepared to knock on Sabrina's door.

Before his knuckles could touch the wood, the door opened on its own—a gesture of "thoughtfulness" that would've been downright eerie in any other setting.

"You didn't stay up all night, did you?" Maki asked, glancing at Sabrina, who was still levitating above her bed.

"No, I got up not long ago," Sabrina replied, shaking her head. She wasn't one to lie and rarely saw a reason to.

"Teleport me to the Pokémon Center room I used last night," Maki requested.

Though she knew he had business to attend to, Sabrina frowned slightly, visibly displeased. "Let me know when you're coming back."

Her psychic abilities couldn't track Maki's movements indefinitely, and she wouldn't even try.

Maki nodded in agreement, and Sabrina promptly teleported him to his room at the Pokémon Center.

Maki stepped out of his room and into the bustling city of Saffron. While the department store offered a wide range of items, it wasn't the place to sell Pokéblocks. He needed to find a specialist.

He headed to a well-known old shop specializing in Pokéblocks. It had a reputation in Saffron City as a reliable source, though Maki wasn't sure if they'd buy blocks from outsiders. If not, he'd have to venture into the black market—where the "customer is king" philosophy didn't apply.

The shop had a distinctly old-fashioned charm—or, more accurately, it was just old.

Beside him, Maki's Charmander sniffed the air, its gaze fixed on the Pokéblocks displayed inside. Despite the enticing aroma, the little Pokémon wrinkled its nose. None of these blocks seemed as appealing as the ones Maki made.

Approaching the counter, Maki began, "I'm here to sell—"

Before he could finish, another voice interrupted from nearby.

"I'm looking to buy some Dragon-Type Pokéblocks."

Turning to the speaker, Maki saw a young man around his age, dressed in a black shirt with orange-red stripes. His striking red hair seemed familiar, but Maki couldn't immediately place him.

The shopkeeper, an elderly man named Carsten, stood between them, looking slightly awkward. "Why don't you two discuss it? For policy reasons, our shop doesn't buy Pokéblocks from external sources."

Carsten, the owner of the shop, was a renowned Pokéblock craftsman in Kanto and one of the few capable of producing top-tier Pokéblocks. He ran the store purely as a hobby, much like Kurt in Johto with his handcrafted Poké Balls.

Hearing that Maki was selling Pokéblocks, Carsten's curiosity was piqued. He wondered what quality this young man could produce.

The red-haired trainer scratched his head with a sheepish grin. "If the old man here doesn't mind, and the Pokéblocks are good quality, I'm fine with it."

As his gaze landed on Maki's Charmander, his eyes lit up. "Hey, is that your Charmander? Its size and the sheen of its scales are impressive!"

"Yes, it's my starter Pokémon," Maki replied.

Charmander had been raised under Professor Oak's care before joining Maki, enjoying excellent meals and meticulous attention. Recently, it had been consuming Maki's high-quality Pokéblocks. If it wasn't thriving now, it never would.

"Nice! My starter was a Charmander, too!" the red-haired trainer exclaimed.

Maki relaxed slightly but was still trying to recall where he'd seen this person before. A red-haired trainer with a Charmander... why did that sound so familiar?

Opening his bag, Maki took out a box of Pokéblocks. These were made the night before using surplus berries, and he'd deliberately crafted them as Dragon-Type Pokéblocks since they fetched the highest prices.

The moment the box was opened, a rich aroma wafted through the air.

The red-haired trainer reached out to examine the box, only for Carsten to snatch it away.

"These Pokéblocks..." Carsten adjusted his glasses, studying the contents closely. His serious expression made the red-haired trainer hesitate, unsure whether to speak.

"Is there something wrong with them?" the trainer asked. Though not an expert, as a Dragon-Type specialist, he could tell the blocks were of exceptional quality.

"No, nothing wrong at all," Carsten said, shaking his head. "In fact, if I were to grade them... even with just mid-tier ingredients, I doubt I could make blocks much better than these."

"What?" The red-haired trainer was stunned.

He had chosen Carsten's shop specifically because of the owner's reputation as a master craftsman and one of the League's top breeders. For someone of Carsten's caliber to praise these blocks so highly was beyond surprising.

Meanwhile, Maki stood in silent shock, his mind finally piecing together the identity of the red-haired trainer.

A Dragon-Type specialist. Starter Pokémon: Charmander. Red hair.

This was Lance—the future Champion of Johto's Dragon-Type trainers.

Why hadn't he recognized him immediately? Oh, right. Lance wasn't wearing his iconic cape.

Without the cape, he's just... some red-haired kid.

Still, Maki thought to himself, it made perfect sense that someone like Lance would have started with a Charmander.

As the realization dawned, Maki couldn't help but wonder: Was Lance in Saffron City for the same reason as him? And more importantly, was Agatha already here?

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