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Emmet sits at the small table in the room he's been renting in Lumiose. On the table is a small wooden mailbox. It doesn't look like a mailbox, it looks more like an intricately detailed birdhouse. It has a door to open and enough room inside for a letter and other small objects.
It was one of Emmet's most prized possessions. Blessed by Celebi, the mailbox had the power to send letters to and from Hisui.
It had the power to send letters to and from Ingo.
Ingo was still stuck in Hisui, but the constant updates and letters helped Emmet feel better. It was a bizarre situation, and the mailbox can't bring Ingo back, but the two of them are working on it. It was a long shot, but that is why Emmet is in Kalos participating in the Royale. Maybe winning will bring him closer to getting Ingo back.
Right now Emmet was reading Ingo's latest letter. It was mostly tales of the battle he conducted at the training centre he's started working at. Ingo may not be as much of a battle maniac as Emmet, but Emmet could tell Ingo was happier being able to battle more.
At the end of the letter, Ingo asks Emmet how he and his boyfriend are.
Emmet doesn't have a boyfriend.
Racking his brain, Emmet tries to remember exactly what he wrote in his last letter to Ingo. Was there something he wrote that could be misinterpreted? He mostly wrote about all the new people he's met in Lumiose. One of those people being Corbeau.
Emmet's cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He did write a lot about Corbeau. In hindsight Emmet can see how Ingo could have misinterpreted that.
It's not that Emmet doesn't want to date Corbeau, quite the opposite, Emmet has been actively trying too. They even had dinner last night. It was quite romantic in Emmet's opinion. They battled together in the Royale afterwards.
Unfortunately by the time the sun came up, Emmet was too tired to try and make a move.
There was only one way to resolve this. Clearly Ingo thought they were dating and Emmet would hate to seem like a liar. Pulling out his phone, Emmet texts Corbeau,
Date me
Corbeau must not be in a meeting right now as Emmet sees the dot dot dots of Corbeau typing back.
You did not ask me to date you over text.
I am Emmet
Yes I did
Would you rather I come to your office and ask you there?
Yes
Obviously I would
Does that mean you want to date me???
15 minutes
My office
Do not be late
Emmet reacts to Corbeau's text with a winking emoji. His smile brightens. If this is going how he thinks it's going, Emmet will have a wonderful letter to write to Ingo tonight.
- - -
“Another fake,” Corbeau grumbles to himself, “I don't know what I was expecting.”
Corbeau sees Mr. Gray look over from the Overqwil case he was admiring in his office. They've been dating for a couple of months now.
“I am Emmet,” Mr. Gray walks over to Corbeau's desk and looks at his computer screen, “what is wrong?”
“Oh, nothing serious,” Corbeau says, “just another seller trying to pawn off fake Sneasler poison. Sneasler's have been extinct for decades. It's hard to say if any of the poison people claim is from them is authentic.”
“Sneasler is from Hisui,” Mr. Gray says, “Do you want poisons from Hisui?”
For a Unovan with no relation to Sinnoh, or any Kantonian speaking region, Mr. Gray sure knows a lot about Hisui specifically. It was bizarre, but hardly the weirdest thing about Mr. Gray.
“You've seen my collection,” Corbeau says, “Of course, I want rare poisons from extinct pokemon. Honestly any poison from Hisui would be fascinating. People and pokemon just barely started to work together then. Two hundred years isn't that long in the grand scheme of things, but it would be interesting if there are any differences between their poisons then and now.”
Mr. Gray hums to himself and puts his hand on his chin like he is thinking.
“Unfortunately I doubt that's possible,” Corbeau says, “sure, there are pokemon that can time travel, but it's hardly worth the effort.”
“Dialga will not be helpful,” Mr. Gray says, “Celebi may help, but not in the way you would expect.”
“Why are you saying that like you've met them before?” Corbeau asks.
Mr. Gray just shrugs before walking back over to Corbeau's Overqwil vases. Corbeau just rolls his eyes at Mr. Gray antics before getting back to work.
- - -
I need poison from your Noble to impress my boyfriend, Emmet quickly jots down on a scrap piece of paper before putting it in the mailbox and closing the door. There's a faint green glow from the cracks around the door as the note gets sent to Ingo.
It's not the usual time for Emmet to send a letter, but he's sure Ingo will see it the next time he opens his mailbox. Emmet just wants to get the engine warmed up and ready for this idea.
He is not quite sure how he's going to explain to Corbeau that it is authentic Sneasler poison. At what point in the relationship is it appropriate to tell your partner that your brother is stuck in the past, but you have a magic mailbox that you use to send letters to said brother, and said brother is the Warden to the poison type Noble your partner happens to want poison from.
It sounds insane just thinking about it. Emmet is fine seeming out of the ordinary, but not ‘we should check you into a hospital’ out of the ordinary.
Emmet ponders the question as he checks his fridge for something to eat. He grabs an apple and closes the fridge door. Looking back at the table, a faint green light flashes through the cracks around the mailbox's door.
Ingo responded!
It's not often that Ingo and Emmet are at the mailbox at the same time (with a two hundred odd year gap in between), but Emmet loves it whenever it happens.
Walking over to the mailbox, Emmet opens the door and takes the folded paper out. Emmet bites into the apple he grabs as he reads what Ingo wrote him.
Dear Emmet,
Ingo was always so formal in his letters.
I would be happy to provide you and your boyfriend with some of my Lady's poison. If I remember correctly, researching poisons is something Corbeau takes quite seriously. Seriously enough that he has developed an immunity to many poisons.
I bring this up as even though Hisui's scientific knowledge is far behind our original times, we do know that Lady Sneasler's poison is quite different from other poison types. If he wants to try it, I would encourage extreme caution. Dilulting the poison would be the minimum, but you may want to have a medic close by. Lady Sneasler's poison is extremely deadly.
I will be leaving for Mount Coronet within the next fortnight. Once I'm there I will be able to get you the poison.
If it is not too much to ask, would you be able to provide a container for the poison? Glassware is hard to come by as of late.
Sincerely,
Ingo
Emmet puts the letter and his half eaten apple down to get another piece of paper for himself. He writes a reply back to Ingo while smiling internally and externally. Ingo can sometimes write a lot, but Emmet likes to keep his letters short and sweet.
It was nice that Ingo is willing to help. Now Emmet has a timeline to get the poison and figure out the best way to introduce Corbeau to Ingo.
- - -
“I am not crazy,” Mr. Gray says to Corbeau as they walk to the room he's staying in. Corbeau thinks that is the least convincing way to convince someone you aren't crazy.
Mr. Gray has been acting odd all day. He's been fidgety and acting nervous. He's been in his head all day.
Corbeau knows Mr. Gray isn't stupid enough to propose this early in their relationship, so he's not sure why he is acting like this. Mr. Gray, to Corbeau's relief, is not that good of an actor. He's too honest.
That doesn't mean Corbeau knows everything about Mr. Gray. There are some topics Mr. Gray will just shut his mouth and stop talking about.
One of them being why he is acting so strange today.
Corbeau watches as Mr. Gray stumbles with his key card, before opening the door and welcoming Corbeau in. The room is plain and generic. Considering it is a standard hotel room, Corbeau is not surprised.
The one thing that is surprising is the strange wooden bird house on his table. It's not a bird house, it has a door at the front like a drawer, but it looks like one. Walking over to it, Corbeau would guess it is an old Johtonian design.
“Do you like it?” Mr. Gray asks, walking over to the table, “the mailbox is why I invited you to my station.”
“It's a mailbox?” Corbeau asks, “I'm not an appraiser. If you wanted an appraisal, I could have just given you a number of a good one.”
“Nope, no,” Mr. Gray says, “I am Emmet. I do not want to sell it. I want to explain it. Please promise to hear me out. I am not crazy.”
“The amount of times you've told me you're not crazy, is not helping,” Corbeau says.
“Please?” Mr. Gray asks, making puppy dog eyes at Corbeau.
“Fine,” Corbeau says, “just stop doing that.”
“Okay!” Mr. Gray's face goes back to his normal smile. He picks up the mailbox and shows it to Corbeau, “this is a mailbox. There are two mailboxes. The other is in Hisui two hundred years in the past. My twin brother Ingo is also in Hisui two hundred years in the past. We use the mailboxes to write each other letters across time and space.”
“...okay,” Corbeau says tentitivly. Is this some sort of prank? Mr. Gray looks like he believes what he is saying. As Corbeau mentioned before, Mr. Gray is not the greatest actor.
Corbeau starting to understand why he felt the need to insist he isn't crazy, because this sounds crazy.
“Ingo has been in the past for a verrry long time,” Mr. Gray continues, “we are both trying to get him back to the present. While Ingo is in the past, he got a job. He works for the Pearl Clan. He is Lady Sneasler's Warden.”
“Lady Sneasler's Warden?” Corbeau clarifies. It's interesting that Mr. Gray's delusion happens to involve the poison type he's been talking about as of late.
“Yep!” Mr. Gray says, “you cannot get Sneasler poison today. You can get it two hundred years ago in Hisui. I ask my brother for some for you. I talk about you in our letters. He knows how much you like poisons.”
Great… Mr. Gray has been feeding this box information about him. This has to be some sort of scam product targeting grieving people.
“So, you are saying you have Sneasler poison,” Corbeau says, “from the noble pokemon, Lady Sneasler, that you got from your brother, who is trapped in the past. A brother you talk to through a magic wooden box.”
“Yep!” Mr. Gray says, he puts the mailbox back on the table and turns back to Corbeau, “I was worried you would not believe me.”
“Yes… because this is so believable,” Corbeau says. Sure, there are legendary and mythical pokemon that can time travel, but this is insane. As much as Corbeau would rather he didn't, he has come to care for Mr. Gray. He needs to find a way to break Mr. Gray's delusion before it goes to far.
“My brother sent you a letter he wanted you to read before I give you the poison,” Mr. Gray says, “the letter is in the mailbox. The poison is in my fridge. I will get the poison. You can read the letter.”
Mr. Gray practically skips to his fridge. He seems so excited.
Looking over at the mailbox, Corbeau opens the door to see a neatly folded letter inside. It has Corbeau's name written on the top of it. Corbeau looks at the way his name is written.
It doesn't look like Mr. Gray's handwriting. Mr. Gray's handwriting is always neat and orderly. It almost looks like a font off of a computer. This handwriting is also neat, but it looks like a mix of printing and cursive.
Opening the letter, Corbeau's surprised to see it is written in Kantonian.
Dear Corbeau,
Emmet, if you are reading this, I told you not too. That is rude. This is for your boyfriend. Please stop reading. Thank you.
“Mr. Gray?” Corbeau asks, looking up from the letter, “do you know how to read Kantonian?”
“I only know a little,” Mr. Gray says, taking a vial out of the fridge, “I picked up some when I was in Johto and Sinnoh. It is verrry different from Galarian and Kalosian. Why?”
“It's written in Kantonian,” Corbeau says as he watches Mr. Gray put the vial on the table. The liquid inside is black. Technically Corbeau has never seen Sneasler poison before, but he has seen pictures of the pokemon and read descriptions of it.
The poison should be closer to a magenta, not black.
“Ingo doesn't know Kalosian,” Mr. Gray says, “I told him you are from Johto. I must have forgotten to tell him you know Galarian.”
“Did you try to read any of this?” Corbeau asks.
“Nope,” Mr. Gray says before stepping closer and looming over the letter, “why? What does it say?”
“I haven't finished reading it,” Corbeau pushes Mr. Gray away, “you're being rude.”
“Okay,” Mr. Gray steps away, “I will be patient. I am verrry excited.”
Corbeau just gives Emmet an, “mm-hm” before reading the rest of the letter.
If this is Corbeau, hello I am Warden Ingo, or just Ingo. I am Emmet's twin brother, who is serving as Lady Sneasler's Warden in Hisui. Emmet has surely told you all about our situation, but I understand that it is a little unbelievable.
However I cannot help but take advantage of this situation.
You see the poison I have sent my brother is not poison. It is black currant juice. I am hoping that the colour would make it seem more deadly to Emmet while assuring you that it is not actually Lady Sneasler's poison.
For the last several nights I have been sending Emmet letters warning him about the dangers of Sneasler poison. The warnings have been greatly exaggerated. Emmet assures me that you have built up an immunity and always dilute poisons you don't know about for safety.
I would like you to ignore safety protocols and drink the whole vial in front of Emmet. I understand if you do not want to or do not trust me. It is hard to prank your brother when you are stuck in the past. I think this will be funny.
If you do not want to, I understand. You or my brother can simply ask me to send the real poison through the mailbox.
Sincerely,
Ingo
This has got to be the most convoluted assassination attempt Corbeau has ever seen. It's almost so ridiculous that Corbeau is starting to wonder if it's real.
“Give me the vial,” Corbeau says, looking up from the letter.
Mr. Gray picks it back up and wags his finger at Corbeau, “not yet! Ingo is verrry worried you might get hurt. I do not want you to get hurt either. There are some things you should know about the poison first. It can-”
Mr. Gray starts a long winded explanation about all the things this poison supposedly does, and all the things Ingo thinks Corbeau should be wary about. Half of the things he says are actually side effects of different poisons, even if some of them contradict each other or could never exist in the same poison. The other half sounds like baseless fearmongering.
If this really is a prank on Ingo's part, he certainly put in the work. Mr. Gray is a little too trusting and honest. He's also a little too worried about this, even if he is trying not to seem like he is.
Getting tired of his rambling, Corbeau waits for a moment Mr. Gray is looking away and snatches the vial out of his hand.
“Wait. Full stop,” Mr. Gray says, as Corbeau successfully gets the vial away from him, “I know you are excited. There are safety checks that must happen first.”
“I think I know more about this than you,” Corbeau says, taking off the cap and sniffing the contents.
It smells like really old fruit juice.
“This is Sneasler poison,” Mr. Gray says, “I believe that would make my brother the expert. This is coming from him.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Corbeau says, looking at the liquid through the light to see if there is anything unusual inside, “your brother was thorough in his letter. The two of you really like your train metaphors.”
“Yep. We do,” Mr. Gray says, “but you should be careful. Let me get something for you to dilute it with.”
It does seem like fruit juice. Corbeau can't confirm it isn't poison though. If this is an assassination attempt, it is just stupid and convoluted enough that Corbeau thinks they earned it.
Besides, Corbeau is curious.
Making direct eye contact with Mr. Gray, Corbeau downs the whole vial.
It tastes like how Corbeau would imagine two hundred year old black currant juice would taste. Not the fermented kind, but the ‘left out in the sun too long' kind. That's to say, it is disgusting, but not deadly.
Mr. Gray doesn't seem to know that as he stares at Corbeau with what can only be described as pure shock.
“Corbeau?” Mr. Gray asks, “are you okay? How are you feeling?”
Corbeau just slowly blinks in response. Xerneas, that stuff was disgusting. Mr. Gray doesn't seem happy with that response as he puts his hands on Corbeau's shoulders and gently shakes him.
“Corbeau? Corbeau?” Mr. Gray asks, concern etched into his strained smile, “are you okay? Are you still here?”
Mr. Gray's buying this. Corbeau doesn't even have to do anything and Mr. Gray's buying this.
“I need to call 911,” Mr. Gray grabs his phone out of his pocket, “this was a bad idea. Wait. 911 isn't the number in Kalos. What is the number in Kalos? Should I call poison control? I do not know their number in Kalos. They would tell me to make you vomit. Where is Garbordor? He can make you vomit.”
The concern was both endearing and amusing. Ingo was right. This is funny. It is also making Corbeau realise that he needs to drill the Kalos emergency number into his head. He's been staying here far too long to not know it.
Mr. Gray grabs Garbordor's pokeball and stumbles with it. Corbeau does not want to be induced into vomiting, so he puts his hand on top of Mr. Gray's.
“Corbeau?” Mr. Gray asks, looking a little teary eyed.
Oh no, maybe this went too far.
“Can you get me a glass of water?” Corbeau asks. The disgusting old fruit taste is still in his mouth.
Mr. Gray drops the pokeball and immediately grabs Corbeau a glass of water. He passes the glass over. Corbeau puts it in his mouth, swishes it around to try and get all the juice out, and swallows.
“It's juice,” Corbeau says when he's done.
The blank stare Mr. Gray gives Corbeau isn't a good sign.
“In the vial,” Corbeau clarifies, “it wasn't Sneasler poison. It was juice. Black currant juice, I believe your brother said. It was old and disgusting, but not deadly. I am fine.”
Mr. Gray stares blankly at Corbeau for a while longer. He seems to be processing Corbeau's words. Maybe it was the fear of Corbeau actually being hurt, but the best Mr. Gray can come up with is a confused, “huh?”
“Your brother was pranking you,” Corbeau says, picking up the Kantonian letter and showing it to Mr. Gray, “it says so right here. That's why he wrote it in Kantonian. He didn't want you to know he hadn't actually given you any poison.”
Mr. Gray seems to understand now as his expression goes from concerned and confused, to downright furious.
He grabs a piece of paper off the table and writes in big letters ‘INGO WHAT THE FUCK’ in Galarian. He then folds up the paper, opens the door to the mailbox, shoves it in, and angrily closes it. Corbeau sips on the rest of the water in his glass as the cracks around the door glow faintly green.
There's the sound of Mr. Gray tapping his foot impatiently before the cracks around the door glow faintly green again. Mr. Gray opens the door and inside is a different piece of paper.
Mr. Gray takes it out, unfolds it, and Corbeau can see the same handwriting from before. It is written in Galarian, and all it says is,
Language.
Corbeau watches Mr. Gray write several other swears on the same piece of paper. The only thing Corbeau can think about is the seemingly genuine concern on Mr. Gray when he thought he was poisoned, and the absurdity of the situation.
“I can't believe it,” Corbeau says out loud, more to himself than anyone.
Mr. Gray looks up from his furious writing and looks at Corbeau.
“You should be thanking your brother for that prank,” Corbeau says, “you may love to tease, but you are a terrible liar. I thought you were delusional, but I was curious, so I decided to play along. If it wasn't for your brother's absurd prank, I wouldn't have started to believe you.”
“You believe me?” Mr. Gray looks so happy, then his face drops, “you didn't believe me before?”
“No, of course not,” Corbeau says, “I am still extremely skeptical, don't get me wrong, but I am more open minded to this whole mess than I was before. Does your brother actually have access to Sneasler poison?”
“He should,” Mr. Gray pushes the long list of swears away and starts writing a new letter.
Eventually they get a vial of magenta coloured liquid and a new letter. It basically says that the scientific establishment in Hisui is terrible and Ingo does not actually know anything concrete about the poison. He admits to his brother that he was making up stuff before. He does say that he thinks it may contribute to memory loss, but that's a guess and all he really knows.
Mr. Gray doesn't seem happy about the memory loss part, and starts writing another letter. Corbeau doesn't pay this one any mind as he thinks about all the ways he could verify if this poison is the real deal.
- - -
“So, how are we supposed to find your brother and that Corbeau guy?” Ingo looks over at Akari as she asks this.
Akari is another person who got trapped in Hisui from another time. Ingo was pleased to make her acquaintance and become her friend. He did not expect her to be the key to getting to his brother, his home, but here they are.
In Lumiose City, where his brother has been living for their past several letters. Nothing looks familiar, but then again, Emmet said they had only visited once before Ingo disappeared. Ingo looks around. He wasn't sure where specifically Arceus would sent them, so there wasn't much other than that they'll be in Lumiose that he could tell Emmet.
“I'm not sure,” Ingo tells Akari, adjusting his Lady's basket that he is wearing on his back, “Emmet wrote that as long as we were in Lumiose, they would be able to find us.”
“That's… vaguely ominous,” Akari says, “what do your brother and the other guy do again?”
“My brother still works at the same subway station we worked at before,” Ingo tries to recall all the letters the two of them have written to each other, “That station is in Unova. I don't think Emmet ever gave me a clear answer about what Corbeau does. I assume it has something to do with poisons.”
“The poison thing probably isn't helpful,” Akari says, “Maybe Emmet has a deal with the Lumiose subway stations? Maybe we should try and find a subway station. Does Lumiose have subway stations?”
“I certainly hope so,” Ingo looks down the street and sees a taxi cab driver arguing with a pedestrian, “I certainly hope so.”
The two of them start to walk down the street away from the angry cab driver. They keep their eyes out for any indication of a subway. Unfortunately, all the signs are in Kalosian and neither Akari nor Ingo can read them. Ingo's starting to wish he asked Emmet for the basics of the language.
“I think we're being followed,” Akari whispers to Ingo.
Ingo uses the reflective windows of the shops they are passing to look behind him. There are three people, all wearing purple suits and sunglasses following them. They don't look like Emmet or the picture of Corbeau Emmet send him.
“I think you are right,” Ingo quietly says back. He's never been great at keeping his volume down, but it was a skill he needed in Hisui, “they are not Emmet or Corbeau.”
“Do you think they're friends of there's and are looking for us?” Akari whispers back, “or do you think they are bandits?”
“I don't know,” Ingo says, “but it would not hurt to ask. We are the two most powerful trainers in Hisui. If it turns south, I believe we can take them.”
Turning around, Ingo loudly talks to the three people following them in Galarian. He hopes they will have an easier time understanding him if he does. He says, “Hello people following us! I am Ingo and this is Akari. Our destination is with Emmet or Corbeau! Do you know where we can find them?”
The three people immediately start panicking and talking to each other with wild frantic hand gestures. It seems like they weren't expecting Ingo and Akari to notice them. They must be talking in Kalosian, as neither Ingo nor Akari can understand them.
“Maybe they know Kantonian?” Akari suggests to Ingo.
“Let me try,” Ingo turns back to the three panicking people and says in Kantonian, “I am Ingo and this is Akari! We are searching for Emmet and Corbeau. Could you help us find our destination?”
The three people talk amongst themselves for a moment before two of them push the third one forward. That one walks up to Ingo and Akari. They take out a phone and tap on it before showing it. It seems to be some sort of translator. At the top are Galarian letters, but they must be spelling Kalosian words. At the bottom is Kantonian text. It says,
We are part of the Last Syndicate. We are looking for you. Are you from Hisui?
Ingo and Akari look at each other after reading it.
“Did Emmet write about a Last Syndicate?” Akari asks.
“I do not believe so,” Ingo says, “he did not mention any Syndicate. Perhaps they work with Corbeau? Emmet did not mention what his job is.”
“Here, let me try something,” Akari says. She takes the phone out of the person's hand and types something in it before handing it back to the person. The person squints at it before calling the two others to them. The three talk amongst themselves before typing another message for Ingo and Akari.
It is not a last syndicate, but a last syndicate. We work for Rookidee. Please follow us. I will take him to him.
“I believe this translator is not accurate,” Ingo says, looking at the ‘last syndicate’ part.
“Do you think they actually work for a Rookidee? Or is that another mistranslation?” Akari asks, “it would be adorable if they did. A little Noble Rookidee. So small and cute.”
“Do they have Noble pokemon in this time?” Ingo wonders out loud.
“I don't think so, but it's cute to imagine,” Akari says, “I don't think the translation is the best. Maybe we should agree to follow them and if it's not Emmet or Corbeau, we can just attack them.”
Ingo nods to Akari's suggestion. Akari takes the phone and tells them that they will follow them. She does not tell them that they plan on attacking if this doesn't work out, but it's never a good idea to let people know you plan on attacking them.
They follow the three people down the streets. Ingo keeps his hands on the straps of Lady Sneasler's basket on his back. It doesn't take long before they are walking towards a tall grey building with purple lights on it. The closer they get, the more people in similar purple suits surround them. They are all talking amongst themselves. Ingo can't understand a word of it.
Similarly dressed people talking in a language he doesn't yet understand… Ingo feels like he is meeting the Pearl Clan for the first time again.
Ingo and Akari are brought into the grey building. At some point Ingo spots a tall large man in a black suit. The man leave as soon as he spots them. Ingo wonders if that is Corbeau. He doesn't get a chance to ask as some purple suited people start asking Ingo and Akari questions in either Galarian or Kantonian.
In theory he can understand the questions, but there are so many and they are all talking over themselves. Akari just stares at Ingo, clearly also overwhelmed.
Akari's about to summon a pokemon to see if they can fight their way out of this, and Ingo is about to follow suit. That is until an unfamiliar voice cuts through the crowd. Ingo can't understand what the voice said, but it causes all the purple suited people to line up in two straight lines on either end of the room.
At the other end of the room, Ingo can see three people standing. One is the large black suited man from before. Beside him is a considerably shorter man with glasses and a strange drippy suit. Beside the short one is the man he's been looking for.
“Emmet!” Ingo joyfully yells. Emmet doesn't respond with words, but instead runs over to Ingo and pulls him into a hug. A hug Ingo gladly returns.
Even with the joyful reunion and the tears growing in his eyes, one must always be aware of their surroundings. Ingo watches as the short and large men walk over to them. When they get close, Akari bows to them. Ingo would bow, but he is still trapped in a hug.
“Hello, hello. I am Corbeau, the leader of the Rust Syndicate and Mr. Gray's partner,” the short one, Corbeau, says in Kantonian.
“I am Akari and this is Ingo,” Akari introduces them for Ingo, “It is nice to meet you.”
Emmet breaks the hug, but doesn't move far from Ingo's side. He looks at Akari and Ingo and says, “I am Emmet. Not Mr. Gray. My Kantonian is rusty. How was trip? Verrry happy to see you.”
“It was a pleasant enough trip,” Ingo says, “we did have a bit of confusion on how to get here. It seems the translation was faulty.”
“My apologies,” Corbeau says, “I guess some of my Grunts don't speak Kantonian or Galarian. It didn't cause too much confusion, did it?”
“It didn't,” Ingo says, “Rust Syndicate is a less ominous name then Last Syndicate.”
“Yeah, and it's nice to know the boss isn't a Rookidee!” Akari says, “even if that would have been small and adorable. Could you imagine?”
“I could not,” Corbeau says through gritted teeth, a vein popping in his head, “did the translator really call me a Rookidee?”
“Yes, it did,” Ingo says.
“We talk about something else!” Emmet says in broken Kantonian, “Ingo has something for Boss.”
“Oh?” Corbeau asks curiously.
“Of course, how could I forget,” Ingo takes off the large basket and puts it in front of Corbeau. He takes off the lid to reveal layers and layers of poison vials.
“Are these?” Corbeau takes a vial out and admires it in the light. His eyes practically sparkle.
“I do not plan on returning to the past,” Ingo says, “so I brought these with me. They are not all Lady Sneasler's poison. I have some from every different poison type in Hisui. We figured you may want to compare them to the modern versions. I hope they are to your liking.”
“Mr. Gray,” Corbeau says, not looking up from the vial in his hand, “your twin is my new favourite Gray.”
“Noooooooo,” Emmet says, “I gave him all the containers! Glass is expensive and could break! These are plastic. I was a part of this! I am your favourrrite!”
They laugh at Emmet's mock sadness.
It is nice to be back, even with all the changes that being gone for over a decade brings.