"Yes and yes. Very good!" Admin Fox regarded Frank and nodded his approval. "It's not about the prehistoric Pokémon, though."

No, it was about something greater. This was where Howard had been recruited, where his life had turned from a destitute archaeologist to a wealthy member of Team Rocket. He hadn't started wealthy, but he had crawled up into the seat of Rocket Admin. Now, he got to feast on the bountiful rewards that Team Rocket provided.

This was something that Cillian Quinn had sold to Frank. This was something Howard Slayte could provide.

Yet beyond the sentimental value, this place was special. Not only did Howard's predecessor work here, but it also held a slew of valuable artifacts within, such as a meteor fragment that once existed in Land Hoenn.

"This is where I work, yes. I'm running around constantly, but this has been my main place for a few months." Howard gestured around the Hall of Bones. "You could work here as well, if you wish. You do like money, right?"

His voice was as dry as the stacks of paper that Team Rocket lusted after.

---

Frank Caffey

"True, but charity only occurs when there's enough money going around to justify it. Besides, we're at a museum. The value isn't in the admission fees, but the pieces themselves. They are unique, and that makes them desirable to the right bidder."

That was true. Even outside the Hall of Bones, there were rare artifacts, historical monuments, illustrious tomes. Many of which were hidden away by Gideon while replicas were on display. Frank was correct. Museums did not make a lot of money, but their value was in expectation, not hard cash.

Besides, Gideon was loaded.

"My paycheck isn't the best, but it's modest. Decent for a cover job." Howard said, the murmur of various museum goers masking the sounds of crime and treason. "But it's a cover job, and I'd like someone talented to help me on the inside."

A large Tyrantrum replica skeleton towered over the two Rockets, and Howard's eye flicked to it.

"Besides, this place could teach you a thing or two. First and foremost, money is worthless."

---

Frank Caffey

He decided that he liked Frank.

"That's why it's worthless!" He laughed, before reaching into his pocket. "Here."

A glimmer of a coin flashed through the air as he flipped it to Frank. Should the new hire catch it, he'd see an ordinary piece of coinage that depicted Ever Grande and the Pokémon League;s symbol. It was perfectly ordinary, just one of many measly cents that one would get when receiving change from a store.

"Consider that your hiring bonus. It's worth a month's salary."

That little coin? The admin gave Frank a knowing smile, then invited him to look at it closely. The logo for the Pokémon League was spaced slightly to the left, while the rest of the coin was minted properly.

"You're right. That coin, for instance, is worth what people valued it as. It can be spent as any other cent, but people place value in it, so it costs more. They expect more from it, so they pay out the nose! If you can raise someone's expectation, make them need what you're peddling... that is the source of wealth. Owning valuable things is secondary. Creating things of value where nothing existed is how riches are gained."

It was a lesson he had learned when he went into debt for his education. He had placed it highly, and thus he had sold his future in order to invest in his now. He learned it from watching artifacts get sold at underground auctions. Paintings, statues, gems. It was the value you gave them that made them valuable.

And Howard valued his trinkets very much.

"With that in mind, how about I get you a job?" Howard raised an eyebrow. "A museum can't be harder than the stock market, eh?"

---

Frank Caffey

"Excellent! I knew I liked you." Howard clapped the man on the shoulder chummily and guided him away from the Hall of Bones. "Besides, you might learn a thing or two here."

His overly friendly disposition was a mask, naturally. There was no shortage of acts that Howard could play. He was the meek underling, the overworked colleague, the casual jester. Rocket was a den of deception, and who was Howard to deny his part in the circus of lies propped up by Walsh?

Besides, Howard hadn't recruited Frank. There was no guilt in enlisting his help. He could sleep easy on that front. If Frank was as talented as he claimed, he could be used.

Rocket always needed more smugglers, after all. They were the lifeblood that kept the money flowing. Frank could make a large sum from Rocket's various tasks, but Howard paid remarkably well.

"Of course, we'll need to craft you a résumé and all that. We'll have to prep you for the position. Hmm... Maybe we can get you in as a charity representative." Howard's eye gleamed as he guided Frank towards the Hall of Geology, Gems, and Minerals. "Got a record?"

Everyone in Rocket did, of course, but he wanted to hear Frank say it.

---

Frank Caffey

"He might've sent me a report. My desk is swamped with ledgers. If he sent me something, I didn't see it." Howard waved his hand as if waving away a fly. He worked well with Underboss Quinn, they might've shared several passions, but Howard didn't need to like talking with him.

Besides, the admin wasn't lying. His desk was swamped. Running a smuggling operation was a lot of paperwork.

"Besides, I value honesty. I can't work with someone willing to lie to my face about their past record." Historians valued accurate records, after all. "Black City? You don't mess around."

Unovan correctional facilities didn't mess around. Admittedly, they weren't as bad as Hoenn's wartime prison situation. He wondered what the cops in Unova had gotten Frank on. He looked good for a man tossed through the wringer for three years.

A lot of scars didn't show on the surface, though. Cracks were best hidden under the surface.

"You know Quinn?" Howard raised an eyebrow. Well enough to call him 'Cil' at least. "Tell me about it."

---

Frank Caffey

That, he understood all too well. Rocket had played that game with him. They had chummed him up with wealth, whispered about all the artifacts he could purchase, promoted him up to admin and bestowed him with Regice. By the time he realized what was going on, the noose had tightened. Now he swung in the breeze.

"Yeah, and you never will be. People have been splitting themselves off from one another for millennia. Business is cruel, and all the more comical as they lust after their worthless currency." Money was just a contract between people, designed to uphold order. Frank had simply done what any human would do, and he had been punished for it.

Howard had been the same. He had stayed away from Rocket, and they had pulled him up the ladder all the same. They treated him well, but he would never be the same as the others.

"Don't try that with us. You want to be liked? Do good work, and I'll sing your praises. Steal from us, well..." Howard shrugged and smiled. "Well, you know Quinn. It can get a lot worse than prison."

Hell, Howard was surprised that Cillian had friends. He thought the man just scowled and beat people senseless. Regardless, friendship wouldn't go a long way when the fate of Rocket was concerned.

"Regardless, we'll put you to work. I'll get you something that suits your talents." Howard checked his watch, sighed, and turned to Frank. "A piece of advice, Frank?"

---

Frank Caffey