Chapter 177: Staged Scarcity
"Alright," Xiu said, breaking the silence in the dusty warehouse as dawn began to filter through cracks in the boarded windows. "Let's get some breakfast. We can talk afterwards."
There were no tables or chairs. Xiu simply sat cross-legged on the floor, unpacking simple provisions – milk, bread, some leftover fruit – and placing them on a clean cloth between them.
Number Seven turned towards the food. Her eyes, previously clouded with pain and exhaustion, sharpened slightly. Despite her injuries, the basic need for sustenance was powerful. She moved stiffly but deliberately, reaching for the bread and milk without ceremony, and began eating quickly.
Like a feral cat guarding its food, Xiu observed silently, noting the ingrained survival instincts. He ate his own portion slowly, methodically, observing her.
After they finished the meager breakfast, Xiu spoke again. "Your wounds need time to heal properly. And with the situation outside..." He gestured vaguely towards the city beyond the warehouse walls. "...it's not safe for you to be wandering around. Stay here, rest, and recuperate."
Number Seven met his gaze and gave a single, slight nod. She understood her vulnerability.
"Good." Xiu continued, "Now, about your identity. 'Number Seven' is obviously cannot do. We need a name for you, something for your new life." He paused. "Do you... have any preference? Any name you remember, perhaps?"
She simply shook her head silently.
Figured as much. Xiu sighed internally. She probably doesn't care either way and choosing names was never his strength. He rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a thick, slightly worn diary— containing every story he had consumed from his past life.[1]
Heh, I'm a genius. He handed it to her. "Here. Find one yourself."
Number Seven took the heavy book, seemingly intrigued by the object itself rather than the task. She opened it randomly, her small finger tracing down a page before stopping on a single character.
Xiu leaned over to look. "淳 (Chún)," he read aloud, recognizing the character. Simple, meaning 'pure' or 'genuine'. He considered it for a moment. "Alright. From now on, you'll be Xiaochun." He repeated the name slowly, clearly enunciating the sounds. "Xiao-chun. That's you."
Xiaochun looked up at him, her lips moving silently, trying to form the unfamiliar sound. After a moment, she gave another small, accepting nod.
With the name settled, Xiu retrieved the bundle of clothes he'd acquired the previous night. "These should fit, more or less. What you're wearing now is too conspicuous."
He handed them over. "Change into these. And," he added, trying to sound clinical rather than personal, "you should probably unbind your chest. Restricting movement like that constantly isn't healthy, especially..." He hesitated, searching for the right word. "...at your developmental stage."
Xiaochun took the clothes without any visible reaction, then simply stood up and began pulling her torn, dark tunic over her head, completely unconcerned by his presence.
Xiu averted his gaze quickly, turning away, a faint flush rising on his neck despite himself. Gods, zero sense of privacy or boundaries.
"Fine, fine, just... let me know when you're done," he muttered, staring pointedly at the opposite wall, listening to the rustle of fabric behind him. He wasn't interested in seeing her scarred, underdeveloped frame.
After a few moments, the rustling stopped. A light tap on his shoulder made him instinctively tense before he turned slowly.
Xiaochun stood there, dressed in the simple, loose-fitting shirt and trousers he'd provided. The clothes hung slightly on her thin frame but looked far more normal than her previous operative gear. She tilted her head, looking at him questioningly.
"Right," Xiu cleared his throat, forcing a casual tone. "Looks better. Less likely to attract attention." He quickly assessed her appearance. Short, practical haircut, delicate features (when not contorted by pain or fear), and slight build...
Dressed normally, she looks just like any unassuming teenager. No one would guess her lethal capabilities or her past as a master thief.
Xiaochun made a few quick, silent gestures, pointing first at herself, then the clothes, then back at Xiu with a questioning look.
"The clothes?" Xiu guessed her unspoken question. "I uh... bought them last night after... our encounter. They should fit well enough." He preemptively explained their origin, "Found a shop and paid for them, of course," he added quickly, recalling his less-than-legal acquisition method. I just left the money at the counter, so it's okay.
He checked the time. "Alright, Xiaochun. You stay here and rest. Don't leave this warehouse for any reason. Keep the door secured from the inside. I'll be back later." He gave her a few more brief instructions about staying hidden, then turned to leave.
Xiu emerged back onto the streets of Viridian City. The sun was higher now, the day progressing, but the atmosphere felt subdued. More people were out, heading to work or school, but the festive energy was gone, replaced by a low hum of anxiety. He headed directly back towards the Pokémon Center, his pace quickening.
He entered the lobby. The heightened security presence he'd noticed earlier was still evident – uniformed personnel, either police or League security, stood near the entrances, their expressions grim.
The usual cheerful bustle of the Center was muted. This confirms it, Xiu thought. Things definitely escalated further last night. He recalled hearing distant sirens and commotion while returning with the injured Xiaochun, sounds he had deliberately avoided at the time.
Must have been clashes between Team Rocket and the authorities.
He wanted details, but the staff looked stressed and preoccupied. He decided against bothering them for now and headed upstairs. A quick knock on Professor Oak's door yielded no response. Still out. He proceeded to his own room.
"Xiaoyuan?" he called softly before knocking.
The door opened almost instantly. Xiaoyuan stood there, looking tense, eyes scanning the corridor before focusing on him with relief.
"What's wrong?" Xiu asked, noting her heightened vigilance. "Something happen here?"
"There was fighting nearby last night," she explained quickly, pulling him inside and closing the door. "Explosions, sounds of Pokémon battling... right in the street, apparently. Kept me awake half the night."
Xiu processed this. "Fighting... involving officials?"
"Sounded like it," she confirmed.
So, it was this close huh. Xiu filed the information away. "Alright," he said, shifting gears. "Forget about opening the stall for now. We need to do some market research first. Come with me."
"Research? But the supplies arrived! Fushun's drivers made the first run from Pewter just before dawn. We should be setting up!" Xiaoyuan protested, clearly eager to put their plan, and the borrowed capital, into action.
"Patience," Xiu advised calmly. "Selling is the easy part. Understanding the real market situation is crucial right now. Our advantage isn't just having supply; it's knowing how to deploy it effectively."
He led a reluctant Xiaoyuan back out, heading towards the city's main commercial district, specifically towards the largest supermarket chain store. Even from a block away, they could see the commotion. A long queue snaked out the entrance and down the street. A large sign posted prominently on the door declared strict purchase limits on basic goods – rice, flour, oil, canned foods.
Inside, the scene was one of chaos. Many shelves, particularly those holding staple goods, were conspicuously empty or sparsely stocked. Staff members looked overwhelmed, trying to manage the queue and restock minor items. People in the line muttered anxiously, clutching shopping baskets.
"This is crazy!" Xiaoyuan exclaimed, looking at the near-empty shelves and the long queue. "The panic buying is real!"
Xiu, however, observed the scene with a cold, analytical detachment. He scanned the 'empty' shelves, the 'limited' stock being brought out, the 'harried' staff. He noted the type of goods restricted, the specific shelves left bare. A faint, cynical smile touched his lips. "You really believe this is genuine panic buying?" he asked Xiaoyuan quietly.
"What else could it be?" she asked, confused. "Look at the empty shelves, the purchase limits!"
"Look closer," Xiu instructed. "Notice which shelves are empty. Mostly staples with long shelf lives. Notice the 'limits' – strict, but just high enough to encourage multiple purchases per person if they queue again. Notice the staff aren't restocking the key items, only less essential ones." He shook his head. "Most of the 'missing' stock? It's likely still sitting in their own warehouse, deliberately withheld. The purchase limits? Designed to create the appearance of scarcity and fuel anxiety."
He gestured towards the long queue. "This entire scene... it's theater. Manufactured panic. All designed to justify the inflated prices they're already charging, and pave the way for even higher prices later. They're frightening people like you, manipulating scarcity to herd consumers exactly where they want them."
He scoffed softly. "It's crude, but effective. A classic fraud."
[1] if you were transmigrated, the best first thing to do aside from ensuring your basic needs is to write down everything what you've learnt from your previous life.
from everything in school, the reels you've watched, and even the novels you've read.
so if ever a reader of mine finds themselves in this scenario, may this note cross your mind xd.