Ah, Atarip town. Without a doubt, this was Sensei Marek Samson's favorite place in the entire country. The sound of the calm, refreshing ocean in the distance soothed his nerves, and made him forget the stresses of everyday life. The people here were not the nicest, but they were peaceful enough. Besides, he had a reputation around here. Even if this town was full of thieves and cut-throats, nobody would dare mess with Sensei if they wanted to stay in the realm of the living. For a moment more, Sensei allowed the calming sound of the waves and the Wingull to wash away his troubles, before returning to business. He was here to see someone.
"Uncle Decker. Good to see you again," said Marek, as he approached the Sawk before him. "What do you want, Marek?" Decker replied, in a rather menacing tone. The Throh stopped walking towards his uncle and stood, a serious expression on his face. "How is my father?" he asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Bad. Not that you care," Decker said indignantly. Marek took a step back. "I assure you, uncle, I still hold my father and sensei in the greatest re-" he began, but his uncle cut him off. "Save it! It's because of you that he's sick like this!" Decker shouted. Marek took another step back and looked down at his black gi. Decker cleared his throat and regained his composure. They both knew that one should never let one's emotions take control, but Marek understood that his father meant just as much to Decker as to him. They were brothers, after all. "You may see him. But know this: it is you who has done this to him. Your dishonorable leaving and your joining that silly hero team, or whatever it is called. It made him so sick with sadness that he can no longer bear it," Decker said, his voice quivering with both hatred and sadness.
Marek found his father Throh lying on a bed in a small hut in the middle of Atarip Town. "Father..." he began. The old Throh in the bed grunted in pain, and slowly opened his eyes. "M-Marek..." he stuttered. "Yes," his son replied. "I know..." the older of the two Throh began, but burst into a coughing fit before he could continue. Marek rushed over to help him, and it soon ended. "I know things have not been better between the two of us since...you joined the Crossblade Crew..." he said. Marek wanted to explain that he joined so that he could use his skills to help Pokemon in need, but decided to let his father speak. "...but it is almost my time. I will die soon, and I am happy for it. I just wanted to see you one last time..." he continued. Marek tried to compose himself, but couldn't keep the frown off his face. A single tear slid down his rock-hard cheek, and fell onto the floor. "I know, one way or another, you'll do me proud..." and with that, Marek's father fell into the clutches of sleep once again. Whether he would wake this time, nobody knew, though it was only a matter of time.
It was several hours before Marek was able to get himself together. Taking a deep breath, and exhaling, he walked once again on the streets of Atarip Town. During his crossing, he couldn't help noticing that the board which usually had all sorts of jobs posted upon it was blank. He knew who had done this: his teammate Sareli. At least, she was the most likely suspect. The sneaky Delcatty wouldn't think twice before being greedy. Still, he respected her as his superior.
Marek, deciding that there was nothing better to do, made his way to the Crossblade Crew's base, which wasn't far from Atarip Town itself. On his way, he paid a visit to the shop and bought an Oran Berry to revitalize himself with. Marek finally made it to the base, and saw that it was deserted except for one Pokemon besides himself: Sareli. She sat casually, studying the various job notices which Sensei was now certain she had taken from the bulletin board.
"Very relax today, don't you think?" he said, not sparing a second glance to see if he had startled her. He walked over to his bed and sat upon it, beginning his daily stretching routine. First, he cracked his fists, then began stretching his arms one by one. "Did you find a good job? Personally, I feel like a bounty hunting job."