Okay, this fic'll be like an intro for my new pokemon rp char, Tyson Ridgecrest. Enjoy! ~~~ Prologue The old man picked up his papers, closed his laptop and picked up his briefcase. He stood up and took on his black hat, leaning it slightly to cover his eyes. his Murkrow stood on the table watching his master. The two were very alike. The man looked around the small, cold room he'd been working from today. There were big holes in the wall, the whole house was going to be wrecked in a few days. The faint blue glow gave the impression that the house was cold, even though it was late summer. "Krrooooww!" the Murkrow exclaimed, jumping around on the table in the room's center. "Yes, I know," the old man said. "We should get going. We've been around here long enough." The Murkrow nodded, then flew ahead in a long corridor that lead out of the room. The man followed his pokemon. He sighed. His job wasn't an easy one. Moving around from day to day to avoid being caught by the police wasn't good for your health, especially at this age. Only a few more days, the man thought to himself, and this job will be done. Then you can buy that mansion in Fuchsia you've dreamed about. The Murkrow was waiting for his partner in the end of the corridor. They went down a spiral staircase and out through a door, to enter one of Celadon's back streets. Steam was erupting from a vent, the alley smelled like rotten meat. The man nodded to his Murkrow, who flew upwards, toward the cloudless sky. The black pokemon swooped down to pass the street in front of the entrance to the alley, then returned to his master with a confirmative nod; the coast is clear. The man stepped out on the streets of Celadon, the sun gazing above. The old man took off his jacket and carried it over his shoulder. After a while he placed it over his suitcase to grab his Pokegear with his free hand. A few clicks, and he placed it by his ear. The Murkrow landed on his shoulder. After three beeps, a low male voice answered. Yes? "I sent the files," the old man said. "There were no complications. I'm moving on to the next spot on the agenda." Was system security tough? the voice asked. "Not at all." the man replied. "It was very easy, in fact. Devon should be ashemed of themselves." A low chuckle in the other end of the line. Then: Of course you didn't leave any traces, did you? "What are you taking me for?" the old man exclaimed in a offended voice. "I'm a professional hacker. I never leave any traces." Of course. Just checking. No offense. "None taken." It was silent in both ends. After a while the voice said: You realise how close we are to making the deal of our lives? The old man nodded. "Team Rocket has promised us a great deal for those files. I'm going to retire after this deal. It should be enough to keep me happy for the rest of my life." Don't be too confident. the voice said in the other end. I said that we're close, but we don't have the money yet. The Rockets have proved to be unreliable in the past. We have no assurance that they will keep their promise. "Oh well." the man replied. "We can just wait and see." Yes. the voice said. Wait and see. The line broke. The old man put his Pokegear back into his pocket. He looked up towards the blue sky. Oh, they'll give us the money. I have my ways of making sure about that. ~~~ It'll be explained later on.