Chapter Thirty-Six: What Gengar Desires

With Gengar’s dazzling special move, Zhao Fang could walk much faster, and since the number of steps had already been mentioned, there was no need for him to count them. Watching Gengar behind him, Zhao Fang’s mind was churning with thoughts—about that mysterious room, the group photo outside, Marill in the arms of the young girl, and the enigma surrounding the birth of ghost-type Pokémon.

Even in modern times, no Pokémon professor could confidently claim to understand how ghost-types came into existence. These mysterious creatures were forever shrouded in mist, impossible to grasp fully. Even their breeding was a puzzle: how did they mate, how were their eggs laid, and why, if the eggs were already ghost-type, did they need to hatch and then go through a juvenile phase like ordinary Pokémon?

Such questions, like a hundred thousand whys, plagued countless Pokémon scholars.

But Zhao Fang didn’t dwell on all that; his current curiosity was whether this Gengar was connected to the little girl—or perhaps Gengar was the girl herself? Or maybe Gengar was Marill? In his heart, Zhao Fang had already outlined a million-word tearjerker novel titled “Those Years With Marill.”

Though curiosity gnawed at him, he had no intention of asking. Some things couldn’t be asked, and Zhao Fang worried that if he did, Gengar might respond with a sorrowful tale, only to finish with, “You know too much.” That would truly be trouble born of idle talk.

“Um… Lord Gengar, are you going up?” Zhao Fang reached the secret door; all he had to do was push it open.

“No, I’ll wait for you at the entrance.” With those words, Gengar slipped into the wall and vanished.

Zhao Fang breathed a sigh of relief, then pushed open the hidden door and climbed up.

Back in the dust-laden room, he felt his heartbeat return to normal; when walking with Gengar, it was as if he’d been strolling alongside a Siberian tiger—so intense was the pressure.

“If I put these things back, I should be able to leave. Lord Gengar’s power is so great, he probably won’t go back on his word.” Zhao Fang deliberately spoke aloud, placing the mirror, notebook, and the doll’s body back where he’d first found them.

After taking a few deep breaths, he opened the door and saw Gengar standing outside, gazing at the painting on the wall.

“Lord Gengar.” Zhao Fang greeted politely, and as he stepped out, the door closed behind him. Gastly was blocking the doorway, grinding its teeth—had Gengar not been there, it would have attacked long ago.

“Let’s go. You fulfilled your promise, and I’ll keep mine.” Gengar calmly turned and led Zhao Fang forward.

Neither spoke as they walked, but Zhao Fang felt immense pressure; descending three floors behind Gengar, he was surrounded by a host of ghost-type Pokémon—Gastly, Haunter, Mismagius, even a Chandelure. Dangerous energy radiated from them, their eyes full of greedy hunger.

Were it not for Gengar’s presence, they would have swarmed him already.

“You’re unlucky to have been drawn here by that ring. Don’t come back again unless you have the strength of an Elite Four member; only then can you move freely here.” Gengar escorted Zhao Fang to the main entrance, and upon stepping outside, Zhao Fang realized he was indeed at the mansion.

“Do you mean Elite Four Phoebe?” Zhao Fang was surprised. In the region of Hoenn, if one spoke of the Elite Four, then the ghost-type master Phoebe was the most fitting.

“Oh? You know Phoebe? Actually, even without Elite Four strength, once you have six badges, you can wander the first floor.” Gengar looked at Zhao Fang oddly.

Zhao Fang smiled awkwardly—he hadn’t even earned his first badge yet.

“You’re pitifully weak. If you go alone, you’ll probably get beaten up by a swarm of Beautifly as soon as you step out. I’ll hypnotize one for you… Let’s see…” Gengar glanced around, and without much effort, a Swellow swooped down and stood docilely in front of Zhao Fang.

“Thank you so much, Lord Gengar.” Though he was called weak, Zhao Fang didn’t mind—it was the truth, after all.

“If, in the future, you see a purple-black gemstone shaped like this, bring it back to me. I’ll give you a reward beyond imagination.” Just as Zhao Fang mounted Swellow to depart, Gengar spoke suddenly, shaping a gemstone from ghostly energy.

“Alright!” With Zhao Fang riding Swellow and soaring away, Gengar stood motionless at the mansion’s entrance for a long while before turning and slowly re-entering.

As Gengar returned, the mansion’s doors closed once more, waiting for a trainer strong enough to enter.

Swellow flew swiftly, and perhaps due to Gengar’s lingering aura, Zhao Fang didn’t encounter any other flying Pokémon. Even the few Beautifly he saw took flight in panic before he approached.

Having ridden flying Pokémon twice now, Zhao Fang was getting the hang of directing their descent. Spotting his own camp, he gave the command and Swellow brought him down.

The moment Zhao Fang dismounted, Swellow snapped out of its trance, stared at him in terror, and fluttered away.

“What astonishing power.” Zhao Fang marveled at the Swellow. The hypnosis wore off exactly as he landed—if Gengar hadn’t done it on purpose, Zhao Fang wouldn’t believe it.

Back in his tent, Zhao Fang felt much more at ease. He no longer had to worry about being chased by Gastly whenever he stepped outside; even the Caterpie by the roadside now seemed endearing.

He knew he’d return to that mansion someday—not for any particular reason, but to make up for today’s humiliating experience. And if he ever found the gemstone Gengar sought, he was genuinely curious about the promised reward.

If it meant Gengar joining his team, he would be overjoyed; although he didn’t yet know what a truly powerful Pokémon was like, Gengar’s strength was surely at least Elite Four level.