The sound of shutters clicking grew dense without warning.
Click. Click. Click.
The leading young man held a DSLR camera with a long-focus lens; the red circle logo on the front of the lens showcased its high value.
He didn't seek anyone's permission, and the lens was almost shoved right into an old fisherman's face.
The fisherman was just opening his mouth to drink, but the sudden flash made him squint, and half of the expensive sacrificial wine in his hand spilled onto his grease-stained lapel.
These uninvited guests squeezed through the narrow aisle, their leather boots making disgusted creaking sounds on the fishy-smelling wooden floor.
"Look at this table, it's covered in oily grime, disgusting."
A girl with a high ponytail covered her nose, her other hand clutching an expensive chain bag as if she were terrified of catching even a speck of dust.
The leading young man lowered his camera and looked down at the photos on the screen, clicking his tongue.
He fanned the air in front of his nose, his brow furrowed into a tight knot.
"This is that authentic Lilycove City specialty or whatever?"
He turned his head and complained to his companions, his voice loud and completely undisguised.
"It smells like rotten fish and stinky shrimp; it's giving me a headache."
"I really don't understand what's worth recording in a place like this. The photos all have these dirty tones; it's a total waste of my memory card."
After saying that, he even disdainfully kicked aside a wooden stool that was in his way.
The porcelain cup in Drake's hand made a faint cracking sound.
As a veteran Elite of this sea area, he was used to the roar of storms, but he could not get used to such arrogant trampling.
In his eyes, these fishermen were not photography subjects, but brothers who had pulled nets alongside him in the middle of tempests.
That jar of wine was not some cultural heritage either, but an offering for the souls who had perished at sea.
Drake's back slowly straightened, and the oppressive aura of a powerhouse began to permeate the small room; the air seemed to grow thick at that moment.
He was just about to stand up when a figure moved even faster than he did.
Ariel had stood up at some point.
Ariel knew that the opportunity had come—an opportunity to make this simple Elite truly acknowledge him from the bottom of his heart.
He didn't show any anger; instead, his somewhat thin face even wore the kind of politeness typical of a businessman.
He walked around the table and approached the group of young people with light steps.
The leading young man was about to adjust his settings for another shot when a dark shadow suddenly appeared in his field of vision.
Ariel's palm steadily blocked the camera's lens hood, perfectly covering the sensor.
"What are you doing?"
The young man was startled and instinctively took a step back, shielding his expensive camera.
"This lens costs hundreds of thousands; can you afford to pay if you break it?"
Hearing the young man's words, Ariel sneered inwardly. Although his clothes were currently a mess, a mere lens worth hundreds of thousands meant nothing to him.
Ariel didn't pull his hand away, his tone as flat as if he were discussing the day's weather:
"Everyone, Longming Seafood House is private property. Although that wooden sign at the door prohibiting photography is a bit old, the words are clear enough."
"Who cares about your crappy sign?"
The young man sneered, looking Ariel's salt-stained training uniform up and down.
"We are professional photographers; we're here to give you people some publicity."
"Do you have any idea how many followers our social media accounts have?"
"Usually, when people ask us to take photos, they have to pay us."
Ariel nodded, appearing to agree with what the other said:
"Since you're so professional, then you must know the rules of commercial photography."
He held up five fingers and waved them in front of the man's eyes.
"For taking photos here, each negative costs 10,000 league coins. Judging by your display just now, you must have taken at least fifty, right?" Ariel pulled a somewhat worn-out calculator from his pocket and tapped it a few times with a serious expression. "A total of 500,000. I'll drop the change—let's settle the bill first."
"Are you crazy? This is extortion!"
The girl shrieked, her voice echoing through the small room.
"Extortion?"
Ariel repeated the word, the smile on his face vanishing, replaced by a coldness that sent a chill down one's spine.
He stepped aside and pointed behind him.
The fishermen who had been drinking had already set down their cups.
Several brothers who worked as dock porters stood up; they were shirtless, their bronze skin covered in sweat and scars.
These men were two sizes larger than the pampered group of young people, and the iron hooks and crowbars in their hands glinted coldly in the dim light.
"If you don't pay,"
Ariel lowered his voice, leaning forward slightly,
"the laborer brothers here would be more than happy to provide you distinguished guests from afar with some free, forceful education. Believe me, it will leave your bones with a memory you'll never forget; that experience is far more precious than taking photos."
The leading young man's face flushed; he could feel the hostile gazes surrounding him.
In his eyes, the people in a place like this were all uncivilized savages, and Ariel was the chief of this savage tribe.
The humiliation of being extorted by a savage instantly overthrew his reason.
"Go collect your money in hell!"
He suddenly snatched a red-and-white Poké Ball from his waist and roared:
"Come out, Electabuzz!"
With a flash of red light, a yellow monster covered in black electric-bolt stripes appeared in the middle of the seafood house.
It swung its thick arms violently, the resulting wind making the surrounding wine cups rattle.
Electric arcs danced between the antennae on its head, crackling and popping; the once-dim room was instantly bleached white by the blue-white electricity.
Electabuzz let out a wild roar and slammed its fists together in front of its chest, the discharged electricity making everyone's hair stand on end.
The young man hid behind Electabuzz, the condescending sense of superiority returning to his face:
"Extorting me? You should look at who you are first."
"Exactly! Weren't you acting all tough? Keep going!"
The girl with the ponytail chimed in as well.
Ariel stood his ground, not moving an inch.
He looked at the restless Electabuzz and then at the diners who had been frightened into backing away, a trace of unspeakable pity in his eyes.
It was pity for the ignorant.