Chapter 11


It took until tomorrow morning for the limping trio of Bill, Gill and Gus to return to the guild, with no immediate fanfare for their return. Once inside is when chaos erupted as many immediately saw the sorry state all of them were at. Deprived of oran berries during their brutal encounter with the Phantom, none of their bodies had healed correctly. Gill's front leg had dislocated, alongside a broken rib. Bill's back had an ugly scar for a lump alongside his dislocated jaw. Painful popping aside, the two were ordered bedrest for about a week inside the infirmary. Gill already was no stranger to this kind of pain, having suffered similar injuries in the past. To Bill, this was his first true humbling in the real world.

As for Gus...

"He will be fine," the audino in charge relayed. "Had you taken longer than a day, it would be a different story. Since you're, uh... 'humans', I'll have you know pokemon organs have a much more potent healing factor than what I gather your kind usually have. Orans would've taken care of these penetration wounds immediately, but as he is right now, I reckon he'll be up and about in a few days.

However, I... certainly wouldn't appreciate having been in his position. Whoever did this to his belly was beyond cruel. It looks sadistic. As you've seen, Gus is understandably shaken."

A tired and battered Bill had keenly listened to all of this with a heavy heart.

Lliam took the news of their failure with the usual calm composure he's shown to have. Ever optimistic, he relayed to KFC that this was perhaps the most valuable information they could've garnered on the Basil Phantom. Though the recounting of the threats done to the guild had made Lliam turn his head. Bill could only interpret the less optimistic tone as nothing but bad news. There was also no denying that the loss of the Perfect Seed would carry severe consequences.

"You... you WHAT!?" a haughty, exasperated parrot-like bird squawks outside of the guild's building. He is followed by an assortment of monsters—both the Capim delegation and the peacekeeper Magnezone's force. "Mister Lliam! You SWORE to us up and down that you would see this task DONE! So you went ahead and gave this task to three of your witless neophytes?!"

"Mister Chatot! No one could've predicted the appearance of the Basil Phantom and you know it! In lieu of KFC, I saw it fit to give this task to our best—"

"Don't LIE TO ME!" he flutters his wings angrily. "I heard! Two of them don't even have standard issue badges! They haven't gone to ANY dungeons as an exploration team!"

"Well, that is technically not true—"

"UGH! I've just about had enough of your drivel!" Chatot interrupts. "We got outvoted by committee and this is what happens! I knew from the start you were not going to fulfill ANYTHING!

Behind him is a metal behemoth, a gray flying saucer the length of a small room. Floating unassisted, his red mechanical eye glances down at Lliam with a piercing gaze and a whirring deep voice:

"I cannot speak on behalf of the Federation, since the liaison is not here, BZZT. However, I did speak at length to all three parties involved, this appeared to have been in part a matter of gullibility from the growlithe calling himself Bill—it was not an unavoidable confrontation with the Phantom. His actions speak on behalf of the you and the guild, whether you like it or not, ZZZT."

Lliam stays silent, not diminishing his stance in front the massive steel vessel hovering above him: "All I can say is... I regretfully apologize for this situation. I will do my best for my 'neophytes' to learn from this experience. I will also do my best to mend this issue and gather another Perfect Seed on my own accord, even if you all predictably do not consider me up to the task of handling it. That is all."

Chatot shoots one last ugly stare before hopping away:

"You and your 'guild' are on thin ice once again, mister. That I can assure you of."

The group departs from the guild. In the distance, one can hear Chatot suddenly changing his tune to an anguished whimpering ("W-What am I going to do...? Guildmaster Wigglytuff will NOT be happy...! H-He hasn't been his normal happy for a long time...!")

Bill listens from his window.


A week after the fact, Bill finds himself in the comfort of his office. Despite the doctor's initial indications, he decides to resume work only a couple days afterwards. It didn't take much convincing after his quick recovery and the promise that he would only limit himself to light activity. He cordially waves goodbye to his new patient, a former human turned into a black bull with anger issues. The latter fumbles his horns on the doorframe for a moment before leaving for good. That was all patients for the day.

But before he can routinely lay down on his favorite sunbathing spot, someone knocks at his door. "Come on in," Bill says, getting up off the floor.

KFC enters the room. "Hey, Bill."

"Ah... hello?" Bill greets the arrival. It's strange for KFC to meet him at his office outside of training sessions. In fact, this might be the first time he's ever done so. "I have no more patients for the day. Did you want to talk about something?"

"I do," he says laconically.

"Alright, sure."

The combusken looks at the big cotton cushion in front of him and decides to sit upon it cross-legged. Bill sits up behind his office desk: "So... what did you want to talk about?"

"Tell me something, Bill. Do you think that what you're doing is of any help?"

Bill is left stunned, a knot quickly forming in his throat by the question. "S-Sorry?"

"These 'sessions'. Do you think they actually are any good?"

"Well! I... of course they are," Bill retorts. "Toge and Torchic are telling me that they're, well... helpful."

"Togetic is no different than how he was before. Torchic, perhaps, but how are you able to gauge this? Many others seem the same. It all seems pointless."

The growlithe's anxiety turns to indignation: "With all due respect, KFC, I think myself more capable of gauging people's progress than you are. I can tell you they ARE making progress."

"No need to be defensive. Weren't you the one who was hesitant to do this whole thing begin with? You said you were not an expert."

"That... that's true but..."

"Has Cyndaquil made progress? Has Tropius? Has Totodile? It's been nearly two months with you around. Some of these people you see multiple times a week. Am I missing something?"

Bill does not have the heart to tell KFC that two months was still not enough time for some of these patients' problems to correct themselves. Ever since the very beginning, he's been having doubts about himself steering people in the wrong direction due to not having finished his studies. An outsider voicing this perspective only worsens his insecurity.

KFC's perpetually furrowed stare does not leave him: "...I am known to be direct. By that alone, I never mean to harm, I expect you to know that. I worry about the integrity of this guild since it has been my de facto turf. You are doing this to pay Lliam back for his hospitality and it does not make sense if it is counterproductive.

I've known psychics—mind readers able to do what you've been doing, without expertise. Wouldn't it make more sense to leave this up to them?"

To that, Bill can't even produce a counterargument in his mind.

KFC stands back up as Bill struggles to come up with an answer. So he continues:

"I may be wrong, I may be right. I do not know everything there is to know. But I want you to reconsider what you're doing, and if it actually is helping anyone. No one else but me would've been able to tell you this upfront. Ruminate on it."

The door is closed.

(...)

A very crude written paper note is placed on a splinter jutting out of the office's door. As Bill decides to leave the door at sunset to pace towards his room, he takes in that perpetual stench of assorted alcohol getting stronger by the second. It wouldn't have taken the constant racket of jangling bottles to realize that he's coming over.

"Ugh, I don't have my stuff sorted out yet—HEYYY, Billy-boyyyy!" the chubby blue crocodile-imp greets Bill cheerfully with both arms out.

"Totodile," Bill nods, dispirited.

"Listen here, Bill," Totodile orders, sounding more discreet to his standards, "I am aware of stuff, I saw it. You all had a real shitty time and got whooped by that scary-strong lowlife. But you gotta move on from that! Us pokemon are built real tough! Gus is FINE now... I-I think that was him grumbling around on the mess hall..."

"Sorry, but I'm not in the mood. I-I mean... I'll see you later during our... our..."

"Sessions? You don't have to act so uptight with me all the time! You might be my, uh, counselor... but you gotta live a little, you know?"

The growlithe puts a paw behind his back. Something wants to leave his lips but he is unable to voice it.

"Welp! Gotta get going!" Totodile declares as if to leave, only to then suddenly point at Bill with a joking stern brow. "And for YOUR information, mister! Very recently I cut it down to eight bottles a day! And as we agreed, THESE ones...", he says, tapping one of the many tiny green bottles strapped to his body "...DON'T count as wholes! I'm working with fractions here!"

Bill steps forward: "Wait, Toto—"

"For the record! AGAIN! Anyway, what did you say?"

...

"I want to do it."


The Blue Claw Inn was always the heart of the night in a port town full of wanderers and voyagers. Despite seeing so many new creatures every day, the unwritten rules between locals and travelers alike avoided prevented the place from turning into a sty. Even on weekdays, the cozy bar finds itself populated with customers. Though that's not to say that it didn't at all house any sort of boisterous drinkers. However, they were usually reserved for days other than weekdays.

Totodile alongside a couple of towering rowdy locals (a muscular gray humanoid and turtle with foliage growing out of his shell—a gurrdurr and a grotle) surround a smaller creature on a table behind the bar and cheer:

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

The orange canine they cheer on holds the liter of spirits snugly within his stuffed maw, struggling to hold it upwards as he gulps down the fluid inside...

And spits it out on the table, rolling away without a single drop.

"OHHHH!!"

"Whoa, BILL!" Totodile celebrates, genuinely impressed. "I wasn't actually thinking you would gulp down a WHOLE bottle!"

A ruffled Bill exhales and shakes his head rapidly in an attempt to scare away the ruthless aftertaste. He raises a paw, one stubby finger slightly raised:

"...I'm working with fractions here~"

"Ahhhh, HAHAHA! You ASSHOLE!" Totodile guffaws, as do the other two enormous enablers.

Gill looks at his brother from afar, away from the lit chandeliers of Blue Claw. His lack of a wide grin should be apparent to Bill, even from a distance.

"Hey guys," the half-lidded growlithe calls attention to himself. "I see... someone's come for me. Prolly wants to talk to me. Bye for nowww."

The other three bid him farewell cheerfully ("They give out great stuff on weekends!") as they huddle together around their table.

Gill remains impassive and unmoving. Bill starts chuckling as he approaches him:

"You didn't think that was funny?" he asks coyly, nearly tripping over his own front leg. "I mean, I thought that was pretty funny. Thought you would make light of this whoooole thing, you big joker, you... you're like, the jokah, baby! I did a funny like you guys do, heh."

"You're not a drinker," Gill points out, in equal parts concerned and surprisingly stern. "And you wouldn't do this with Totodile. Is this related to that 'indefinite leave' notice you put on your door?"

"Totodile! Was right. Pokemon metabolism must work differently, because I don't feel that different, you know. I was actually doing an experiment to see how much it would take for the drinks to get to me. They barely did anything to me, I could still go f—H-Hey, HEEEYYY!" Bill reels backwards, away from Gill's paw. "Whoa. Whoawhoawhoawhoa, hold it right there. I'm fine, what the hell is your problem. I'm just talking here and you, like, want to touch me. That's no good. No, nonononono—ugh!"

Bill crumples in his attempt to walk backwards. Somehow, this puts his body on his back, four legs paddling in the air:

"Hey Gill! Whoa... look at that, I'm a dog! I can't believe this, look at my feet go! Heheh! That's AMAZING—"

"BILL!" Gill yells in frustration. "You're screwing with me! You better tell me what this is all about!"

Bill stands up and looks back at him dead in the eyes: "I NEVER screw around. I just wanted to have a little fun. The same way you do, you being the big soul of the party. You know I l-love you, right? You're my little twin brother and I love you... that's what I would say anyway. But you know what? I actually hate you."

"You don't mean that."

"YES, I mean that! I don't like seeing you! Ever since I screwed everything up with your vision with the fireworks and—"

"THIS is what it's all about?!" Gill exclaims indignantly. "Look I'm sorry if I did tasteless jokes in the past about it, but y—!"

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" Bill roars, face contorting.

From this distance, they attract a growing number of awkward stares from the few people outside the Inn.

"This whole time... I look like I worry about you, right?! That I care for who you are? I'm not even sure if that's true! Boohoo, your eye got scarred! Really, it's all about ME! Do you remember what I did after you tripped over the fireworks? I tried... I tried COVERING IT UP! I tried getting you 'FIXED' myself! I tried to make it look like so that it was a fucking bike accident! So mom wouldn't YELL AT ME like the horrible person I was! I didn't worry about you none! And boy, did she get ANGRY at me when she found out. E-EVERYONE DID!"

The growlithe bears less resemblance to an angry drunkard, his voice breaking.

"N-Nothing was the same! You know what happened whenever I saw your busted eye? I remembered THAT! Not that I did youuuu a bad thing! NonoNO! You represent the moment I got caught! I HATED seeing you for that! Over time, I started HATING YOU!"

By now, the growlithe starts to look more like a lost child, looking to his sides every once in a while as if he's being watched.

"Th-The gall, right...? That was my brother, my best friend... the one who got into that mess b-because I wasn't diligent. S-So he needs to be swept up, right? That's all he's good for... Wh-What... what was wrong with me...? What's wrong with... me...? I ought to get what's coming to me...! I need to... I need to..."

It's at this point where the tearful Bill's hindlegs give way, collapsing into a lazy sitting position. Reduced to whimpers and hiccups, he's unable to further his thoughts.

This time he does not reject the touch of his brother. Gill speaks to him softly:

"You're not like that. You have shown that you care for me."

"N-No... that's not true... I-I'm hic... so sorry... a-and now that I know you might be... 'gone' in a way... I d-don't know what to think... n-none of this makes sense... pokemon don't exist... I-I want to go home..."

"It's okay."

...

The unkempt Bill pushes Gill away after a while, standing up on wobbly legs:

"You got a scar that would never fade... it was a constant reminder that I had failed you... th-that I'm a failure... just like I failed people here... I'm tired of everything... tired to fail anyone... tired of being in this place that I don't belong to...

...I wish I wasn't ANYWHERE anymore!"

Something appears to strike Bill's mind. Whatever it is, it makes his misty eyes go wide for a second. He drops to the ground, unconscious.

"Bill? BILL! What... what's going on!?"

...

Bill would not wake up until tomorrow morning.


Tempest! Storm! It's all that's inside. Within the maze, wandering upon wandering. Through the city that offers no respite. There shall be a way out and someone will answer for this! When will the wandering stop? Through the city that offers no respite. It's all that's inside.

The rapids will soon give way? Soon. The light comes through, wandering upon wandering. Will continue, press on forward.

But sinking further once more, no more light. Press on. Through the city that offers no respite.

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Pub: 16 Jun 2026 07:56 UTC

Edit: 16 Jun 2026 16:14 UTC

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