- Vagabond - Male Reader x Pokémon

Chapter 37: Oreburgh City Part. 1

[SOME TIME LATER]

[Oreburgh Gate]

The outskirts of Oreburgh Gate had been transformed into a relief zone.

The storm, which had battered the area with unrelenting fury, had finally relented. Though the air still hung thick with the scent of damp earth and ozone, the skies had calmed, leaving only a wet, treacherous terrain prone to landslides. Floodlights cast harsh beams across the cave's gaping entrance, where lines of people and Pokémon, and defeated Hunters alike, were steadily funnelled out.

Miners worked tirelessly alongside local law enforcement, their mud-caked boots squelching against the soaked ground. Byron's booming voice echoed over the clamour, his shovel a conductor's baton as he barked orders. His Bastiodon and Aggron trudged through the sludge, burdened with the unconscious forms of captured Pokémon within their capsules.

"No slacking now! Ain't the first cave-in we've dealt with, and it won't be the last!"

Byron's voice cut through the chaos like a hammer against steel, urging the workers onward.

Toward the back of the operation, the Underground Man strode through the mud with the ease of someone who had spent a lifetime beneath the earth. Slung over one shoulder was an unconscious boy, his limp form barely noticeable against the miner's broad frame. Trailing behind him, trudging through the muck, was the battered and bound Head Hunter Logan, his defiant expression dulled by exhaustion and defeat. Behind them, Jack's Steelix slithered with eerie grace, its metallic coils wrapped tightly around a restrained Feraligatr.

Jack stopped at the clearing, where defeated Hunters huddled in a makeshift holding zone, encircled by vigilant officers and roaring floodlights. Despite their surly grumbles, none dared make a move, not with the dual presence of Byron and Jack, the Canalave and Oreburgh Gym Leaders. The aura of authority they exuded was as heavy as the storm clouds that had plagued them earlier.

At the edge of the field hospital, Solana knelt beside an all-too-familiar figure, Ranger Jack Walker, his body bloodied and covered in grime but miraculously alive. Her hands trembled as she worked to clean his wounds, her damp eyes betraying her relief. For a moment, when she'd found him amidst the wreckage, she'd thought him dead.

But Jack Walker was nothing if not resilient. He wouldn't fall, not yet.

Sycamore hovered nearby, his attention torn between assisting Solana and his growing concern for [Y/N], who still hadn't emerged from the cave. Each passing second twisted his gut tighter.

Could he have...

A sudden movement snapped Sycamore's focus forward.

"Gramps, didn't think you'd make it out yourself." Roark said, stepping toward the Underground Man. His sharp eyes flicked to the unconscious boy slung over his grandfather's shoulder. The small grey Cranidos at his feet scratched at the ground, excitement festering in the air.

"Who's that? Another Hunter?"

Jack adjusted his grip and dropped the boy unceremoniously to the wet ground.

[Y/N]'s hat tilted askew as his body landed with a soft thud, his face partially obscured beneath the brim.

"Dunno. Some runt." Jack replied with a nonchalant shrug, though his sharp eyes lingered on the boy a moment longer than necessary. "But there's somethin' about him. Can't quite put my finger on it." His voice lowered, almost to himself. "Somethin' interestin'."

"What kind of something?" Roark pressed, curiosity gleaming in his gaze.

Before Jack could answer, a piercing cry shattered the air.