Glorious Sparklies

The first few days in Post Town were mostly a learning experience for Tipper as he gathered up the paints and cleaning materials needed to make the shop presentable for its reopening, and he was surprised at how much he learned about the town in the process.

For instance, Gurdurr was a deadbeat who seemed to spend more time drinking and moping to himself in the Swanna House’s Juice Bar than actually working as the carpenter he was supposed to be. He also learned the times of day when Gurdurr was least likely to be around. Which not incidentally, were also the time when visits to the Juice Bar were the most tolerable. The townsfolk also seemed to have that same sort of indifference to strangers that Pokémon in more populated places like Baram Town sometimes had, which meant public arguments and fights would go ignored by them as long as it didn’t involve them personally.

He supposed that it wasn’t all bad. He’d also learned that the various spaces in the Swanna House that had been set aside for posted messages had their fair share of mission requests and advertisements. It was how he found the supplier for the paint for the store, along with the Gold Exchange that would convert Poké into more compact gold bars which could be stored more easily. Always a positive since the Deposit Box meant to be set in front of the shop hadn’t arrived yet, and space in the safe which came with the shop was on the cramped side.

“Fwohoho! This is the gold exchange known as GLORIOUS GOLD!”

Though Tipper wasn’t sure if he’d have come to this Gold Exchange if he’d known it’d be like this. It was hard to judge the Cofagrigus owner for building a shop that took after him; it was a fast way to help the shop stand out for his less literate customers, even if the counter shaped after a stack of gold bars was definitely pushing the bounds of good taste…

“I lose control when I see GLORIOUS sparklies! Yes! GLORIOUS! Sparklies!”

But Tipper definitely could judge the place for having a proprietor that seemed to all but foam at the mouth at the mere thought of gold. Was this Pokémon actually going to manage to exchange any gold bars? Or were they just going to turn into his midnight snacks?

“Cofagrigus, you can spare me the introduction. I know how places like these work,” Tipper sighed. “Look, I just want to convert some money over since my dad and I are a bit tight on space right now. Do you have a going rate at the moment?”

“Of course! It’s just a mere 555 Poké for one of my GLORIOUS! Sparklies!” the Ghost-type exclaimed, before trailing off with a flustered wave of his arms.

“Or at least it will be once I have some to offer and can finish setting my shop up,” he added. “I’ve got plenty of treasures to offer in trade if you already have any, though!”

Tipper pinched his brow and shook his head. Of course an actually useful service in this town wouldn’t actually be functional. Since it wasn’t as if Post Town had much else to motivate Pokémon to come off the highway beyond its spring water.

“Would it really have killed you to put a ‘Coming Soon’ on that advertisement of yours?” the Kecleon scoffed. “Though good luck on getting those Gold Bars together. You’ll need it.”

Cofagrigus didn’t seem particularly thrilled with his tone of voice, though Tipper found it hard to care after wasting precious time from his lunch break on a clod who couldn’t be bothered to put up accurate advertisements. The Kecleon turned and started to head off back for the bridge into the main square, when he saw something move off to the left of the unfinished Gold Exchange. Curious, he decided to investigate.

Tipper rounded the corner and saw a rug with a counter and some crates in the back set out with a Foongus dusting himself off. It was clearly a shop of some sort, even if Tipper couldn’t see any wares set out.

“Wait, what on earth do you sell anyways?” the Kecleon asked. “I didn’t know there were other shops on this side of the stream.”

“That, my scaly friend, is a story and a half,” the Grass-type replied. “But the long and short of it is that I sell ways to get far, far away… for a very particular clientele.”

Tipper raised a brow in reply. There weren’t a lot of merchants in the world who could afford to be picky about their customers, let alone ones in a little town like this where most of the business to be had was from passersby from the highway. Even so, he couldn’t help but wonder…

“Foongus, I’m from Kecleon Market,” he said. “I don’t think you’re going to find a better potential client around here than me or my dad.”

“Sorry, but that isn’t good enough for me,” the Grass-type said. “My services are specifically for humans. I happened to come out here to set up shop since word is that a bunch of them have been popping up around these parts as of late. That, and my suppliers happen to be close by here.”

Tipper blinked. Is this a scam? Since this guy just gives off a vibe that he’d peddle Ekans Oil in his spare time.

“Uh… huh. And just what do you sell again?” Tipper asked.

“As I mentioned, ways to get far, far away. I happened to buy up licensing rights from some local inventors for a means to do that,” the Grass-type said. “A way for any Pokémon to jump straight into a Mystery Dungeon.”

Yeah, this was totally a scam. Tipper could already tell.

“Can’t a Pokémon capable of using Teleport already do that?” he asked, folding his arms. “What do you really sell, Foongus? Teleport Gems?”

“Please, those are so passé, and they still require a Pokémon with Teleport to use them,” the dubious merchant scoffed. “The solution I sell cuts out the middleman entirely. It just requires these.”

The Foongus hopped aside from his place and revealed a set of red and gold metallic tiles. He stooped and spread them across the counter, as Tipper turned his head down to inspect them, as a sharp frown spread over his face.

“Seriously? A bunch of cards?”

“Correction, Entercards. You arrange them and they interact with ley lines to form what we call a ‘Magnagate’ to get you around,” the Foongus insisted. “The sets my suppliers have made for me so far currently link to a dozen locations, including one ‘Kecleon Bazaar’ that you might be interested in.”

Tipper jolted up and his mouth flopped open in shock. H-How on earth does this ‘mon know about Kecleon Bazaar?! It was a training ground where those in Kecleon Market who wished to follow in the footsteps of the company’s legendary founders for going about Mystery Dungeons to scrounge wares and sell directly to Pokémon inside toughened up! And it was a prime source for a swath of the goods they had on offer that couldn’t be reliably sourced from local Mystery Dungeons.

Could… this Foongus really have a way of getting to Kecleon Bazaar? Its location was a trade secret for the company but it certainly wasn’t on the Mist Continent of all places!

He didn’t know whether or not the Grass-type was being serious, but this needed to be nipped in the bud and fast.

“Look, if you really have a way of getting into Kecleon Bazaar, let’s strike a deal to get that off the market,” the Kecleon insisted. “Since that’s really not someplace anyone from Kecleon Market wants to become common knowledge.”

“Sorry, no can do,” Foongus insisted. “Though you don’t need to worry, these Entercards are meant specifically for human customers. Since they have what I and my associates want.”

“Which would be…?”

“Magic numbers.”

Tipper screwed his eyes shut and sighed. He couldn’t believe he actually let himself almost get taken in by this nonsense. There was definitely no way that Foongus was running a shop that only served humans. It wasn’t as if they just casually rained from the sky! Why, this had probably all been some sort of confidence trick to get him to waste a fortune on a bunch of worthless cards!

“… ‘Magic numbers’,” he scoffed. “You seriously expect me to believe that you’re successfully running a shop just collecting those?”

“Well, this is a start-up venture, but the profits to be had if it pans out will be nothing short of phenomenal,” The Grass-type explained. “A sequence of sixteen numbers, a sequence of three, and two pairs of two. My associates tell me they’re the keys to unimaginable treasures from the human world, and I’ve even managed to snag a few sets already from humans who managed to hold onto at least part of their memories.”

Tipper furrowed his brow into an exasperated scowl. He couldn’t tell who was the more gullible one here: Foongus, or whatever unfortunate soul he passed these ‘Entercards’ onto. It reminded him of a back alley shop he’d once run across in Baram Town. Some hole-in-the-wall that sold maps and treasures that were allegedly from a “Phantom Island” that laid between the Air and Grass Continents which sometimes popped up in folktales.

It was all a bunch of rubbish, but clearly, the proprietor had lost a few marbles and came to genuinely believe the nonsense his shop was built around. Something like that must have happened with Foongus, too.

“You know what? You’re crazy,” Tipper said, shaking his head. “And I need to get back to work before-”

“Oh! There you are, Foongus!”

“We’ve got those Entercards you asked for!”

Tipper turned as an Espeon and Umbreon came bounding up with a small sack that they threw onto the counter. It landed with an audible clack as a few of those metallic cards spilled from its mouth. The Kecleon stared in disbelief at the pair as they chatted with the Foongus, who shot a smug look back at him.

The lingering worry came bubbling back to his mind. What if those ‘Entercards’ weren’t all just an elaborate confidence trick? It sounded a bit stupid, but maybe he should try and buy up those cards that supposedly went to Kecleon Bazaar… just in case.

Tipper looked on for a moment, before he shook his head and turned away.

“Pah, what on earth are the odds?” he harrumphed. “Magic numbers, teleporting cards? What a bunch of nonsense.”

As if anyone would actually waste money on such preposterous-sounding trinkets in the first place. Let alone actual humans. With any luck, Foongus’ shop would fold in a couple weeks, and the Grass-type would go and pester some gullible kids in a guild town or something like that.