I Sting (Pokemon Poison Type Specialist)

Chapter 103

Virah closed her notes with a sigh, working as a field researcher for Eggtech had been harsh, and she couldn't believe that she spent her last two days doing nothing but observe the differences in the blood Mareeps to constantly inspect their health.

It was a lot of work, though she's also thankful that most of it was spent with her doing nothing but staring at her test subjects to gather more data.

'And it's not like I didn't get anything out of it,' Virah silently considered the silver lining.

After two days' worth of work and calculation, she had gotten the exact amount of volts she needed her thunder dust to produce in order to properly induce Paralysis without causing some sort of severe side effect like putting the target in a coma.

She also didn't sit idle during the last two days and with her free time between inspecting the Mareep's health, she practiced her throwing and martial arts.

Practicing her throws with rocks had been interesting, and it kept her occupied during the slowest times of her research.

The slow learning curve of throwing was tedious, especially since she doesn't know how to do it properly yet, but she's getting there, and lately, her throws have been getting more accurate.

Grene also trained with her from time to time but the martial artist ultimately went on to train all by herself after practicing with Virah and Whitney for a little over 30 minutes.

She was obsessed with getting stronger, and Virah thought that Grene may have wanted to put on a good show tomorrow, which was why she was going hard at it every single day.

Virah stood up from her chair and made her way out of her room, the martial artist clearly had her reasons for doing what she did.

Virah theorized that it was because she didn't want to look and sound like a fool when people watch her on TV or listen to her battles on radio.

To someone who wanted to spread the name of her family's dojo, looking like she didn't know how to control her Pokemon would only discourage people from checking out the thing she was supposed to advertise.

Virah wanted to say she could sympathize but in all honesty, she didn't know how Grene felt, let alone relate to the fact that she's dedicating herself to her family's name.

To Virah, something like that felt alien to her, sure, wanting success is one thing, she's known that feeling all her life, clinging to it in spite of failures was relatable to her even, but what she didn't get is working hard for something as arbitrary as spreading the name of a building.

She knew what advertisements did, obviously, but Grene seemed to be hell-bent on wanting to make her family's dojo well known.

And that's just something she would never get.

'Her succeeding would mean her father would probably have to hire other trainers given that an influx of people would start to come, so it's clearly not about a personal vendetta,'

Or maybe it was? Virah wasn't sure, for all she knew, Grene was doing this to prove something.

In the end though, none of that is Virah's business and it's better if she focused on her own happiness and satisfaction.

And how would she go about on doing that?..

Well, first, she should probably arm herself and add proper weapons to her arsenal.

Virah donned her ninja outfit and walked out of the alleyway, it was now night, her friends were either resting to prepare for their gym battle tomorrow or they were still training.

She scaled the walls of a building and made her way to the roof, silently, she stalked the skylines of Cianwood City, her steps light and inaudible to even those who strained their ears.

She was like a Ghastly searching for prey, unseen and unnoticed.

Virah dumbed down her Aura as she landed in front of a shop, there were no windows on the storefront and the only way in was a single door.

She stepped forward with confidence in her steps and calmness in her demeanour.

Virah knocked on the door once, twice, thrice before taking a step back and waiting for it to open.

No sounds, not even a creak, could be heard as the door slid sideways, revealing an old man with wrinkled skin, he wore nothing more than a kimono and a pair of wooden sandals.

According to the rumors, the man in front of her was supposedly a retired ninja, she wasn't sure if he worked with Koga in the past or if his clan was specifically housed in Johto but even if he was an independent, Virah wouldn't care.

She was only here to buy items, nothing more.

The old man looked at Virah in interest, "oh? And what brings you to my shop this late young lass?"

"I want to buy weapons," Virah answered bluntly.

"Why? Aren't you a bit too young for that?" The old man replied with a smirk.

"I am," Virah said, "but I want to do something, and if it means I'll have to start as a young kid on the first year of her journey then I'll do it,"

"Hmmm…" the old man's eyes narrowed, "you think honesty would get you anywhere?" The old man chuckled heartily, a contrast to the nervous tick that sent ice through Virah's veins, "tell me, why do you want to do… this?"

Virah thought about an answer as the old man gestured at her, "I don't know,"

"You don't know?" Her answer actually made the old man pause, "why are you doing this then?"

"Because I have an optimistic friend who wanted to fight evil, I went along with her and things kind of escalated as I started to know more and more about this side of the world," she sighs, "I never knew that Pokemon fighting rings existed, nor did I know that ninjas sold drugs to war veterans,"

"Care to elaborate on that last part?" The old man asked.

"Yeah?" Virah tilted her head, "I saw a ninja sell drugs to the veterans of the war here in Cianwood,"

"Really now?.." the old man's tone turned into a deep growl, "well kid, you're in luck," he laughs, "it just so happens to be that my shop is open until midnight, so come, come,"

Virah walked into the shop, she looked around as she tailed the old man, curious about the various swords present on the walls, they were mostly katanas, though a few had odd shapes.

"Are these for sale?" She asked.

"No," the old man replied seriously, "if you want one you're going to have to talk to Kurt,"

"Who?" Virah asks.

"A blacksmith," the old man answered vaguely, "but enough about those, come on, I want you to see my selection of weapons and see if one of them fits you,"

Virah was led inside a spacious room full of shelves housing wooden boxes on top of them, her eyes went from left to right, scanning the various bobs and trinkets.

"What do you prefer to do when you fight?" The old man asked as he walked around the room, he picked up a box, one as long as his forearm, "do you like to fight in close combat?"

He looked at Virah, expectations clear in his eyes.

"No, not… close combat, but I think I'd want to uhm, just start throwing things while letting my Pokemon act as the front line," she answered.

"Girl, you're going to fight hand to hand sooner or later" he tossed Virah the box, "that costs 2,500 Pokedollars, it's a hand held dagger, take it,"

Virah opened the lid with a frown, inside was a curved blade with a leather handle resting on top of silken fabric, she picked it up and tested its size, "it's heavy,"

"Because it's an actual weapon, not a kitchen knife, get used to the weight," the old man replied as he picked up another box, he tossed it Virah's way, who she caught with dexterity.

The old man nodded, "three Kunais rest within that box, all 400 Pokedollars each, take all of them and use them to throw at Steel Types such as a Scizor's joints,"

Virah's eyes gleamed a toxic purple and she kept the box close to her chest, "I will, thanks,"

Out of all the things she remembered vividly from Ratata's corpse, the most horrific was the dent on his chest, and the dent kept coming back at her during nightmares or whenever she meditated.

It came back so much that she practically memorized the mark a Scizor left to its victims from every Bullet Punch.

A knowing look flashed in the old man's eyes and he nodded, "good, keep that," he says before grabbing two boxes from a bottom shelf, "shurikens, they're free, they come with the Kunais and the Dagger,"

Virah held them, grateful, "thank you,"

"And before you leave,"

Virah stopped walking to the exit, "yes?"

"Your ninja outfit is the worse thing I have seen in my life," the old man sighs, "come on, I'll take you to my dressing room,"

Virah looked at the black ninja outfit with crimson linings, it was professionally made, that much became clear when Virah felt the attire's weight as she lifted it from the box.

"It's padded and armored so you're partially protected while wearing it," the old man says, "though it doesn't have a mask so you'll have to work on that yourself,"

"Yeah, that's fine," Virah replied, she did her best to hold her excitement back but it clearly seeped into her voice, seeing as it had a higher pitch than normal.