INTERLUDE - SHIFT

"I mean, dude… Grace the Impaler?" Denzel snorted, as he had every time he repeated the name. "That's so on the nose."

Denzel Williams stared at Grace, who shook her head in dismissal. It had been hours since her dominant victory over Wake, and they'd already hosted a party for her. There was something tense in her shoulders, he noticed. She'd taken on the responsibility for her UPAN colleague's trauma, so Denzel wanted to cheer her up through teasing.

"I like it!" she exclaimed. "It really speaks to me, and you being an asshole about it sucks."

"Even Cece found it funny. She just doesn't want to mock you because you guys are dating."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Jasmine wears her corny title on her sleeve. If she can be the Rapier of Olivine, I can be Grace the Impaler."

"Sure thing…"

She pinched the small of his back, causing him to jump and her to snicker like a kid. The evening air was warm, which reminded Denzel of Twinleaf. Pastoria's weather was strikingly similar to his hometown, and it made him somewhat nostalgic.

"Pauline doing okay?" Grace asked.

"Oh, she'll recover," he said with a clenched fist. "She still doesn't want to speak to me much. I'm waiting for her to cool down, and her loss hasn't helped with that. Even Emilia's been kicked out of her room."

Grace winced. "Yikes. Well, it's always good to give her space when she's like that."

He nodded pensively. They knew Pauline in and out by now, along with her quirks. She'd bounce back stronger than ever, even if the Conference was basically no longer a possibility.

"What about you?" Grace asked. "How are you doing?"

He turned toward his best friend. There was always something in her eyes, when she worried for one of her loved ones. Innocence, maybe? Something that made it hard to remember that she was the same girl that had ordered her Togekiss to break Palafin's arm without a moment's hesitation. Grace made a lot more effort to spend some time on social media, but he didn't think she knew how many people couldn't believe she just did that sometimes. The only ones who fought similarly at a high level were Amar Hamili from Orre or a few people from Kanto-Johto, but he could count them on his hands. This style of battling would make her a pariah in Unova, but despite his warnings to her, she didn't care enough to change it.

"Sure, what do you mean?" He shrugged.

"You know what I mean, Denzel."

Denzel leaned against the Pokemon Center's walls and took a deep breath. "I try not to think about it." The world ending, and you messing with beings beyond my comprehension.

"If you want to talk, I'm here, yeah?"

"I know that."

"I make a good hype girl," she smirked. "Remember how I cheered you up before you fought Gardenia?"

"Don't make it seem like it was twenty years ago or something," he chuckled. She loved reminiscing about good memories. "But yes, I remember. But, you know, this situation is orders of magnitude above that." He stopped and ran a hand through his dark brown hair. "But I'm okay. Taking it one day at a time."

Grace leaned deeper against her crutches. "Always the optimistic one."

"If I wasn't where would you be?" he asked half-jokingly.

"Probably dead."

The words were like a bucket of cold water had dropped on his head, because he knew from her tone that she was being serious.

Grace echoed his thoughts. "I'm serious. I need you," she continued. "Which was why I was the one who pushed for you to learn about the truth. The others were less inclined to tell you the entire thing. Only fragments of the story."

If he had to guess, Mira had probably been the most opposed to him learning about this.

"I… appreciate that," he murmured. "Yeah, I do," he said, more sure of himself.

"Y'know, even when I'm in Unova, I'll text you every day."

"Obviously," he said. "Call, too. Although I guess every day might be difficult with the different time zones."

"Know what you'll do when this year is over?" she asked. She was staring in the distance, as if she saw something he didn't.

"Stay in Sinnoh. Go through the Circuit again," he said. "Pauline will want to do it too, and Emilia has her contests."

"Thought you'd say so."

She turned her face away from him for a few seconds, then let out a long exhale. He'd told her that he wasn't coming to Unova, but she had probably still held onto hope. Denzel held out a hand, wanting to pat his friend on the shoulder, but she recovered quicker than he thought she would.

"How's Sylveon doing?"

Denzel's Pokeball felt heavier, at that moment, and the scar across his shoulder tingled. He still needed to get used to that.

"Good. Wanna see him?"

His best friend beamed. "Can I?!"

There she is, Denzel smirked. Being all gloomy didn't fit her. He released Sylvi next to her, and the fairy type flinched when he saw Grace, who immediately crouched to look into his eyes. Sylveon's ribbons moved erratically and stuttered, a sign that he was nervous to see her.

"Hi Sylvi!" Grace said. "Long time no see. I missed you."

She placed an arm against one of Sylveon's ribbons, and he relaxed right away. Empathy, Denzel thought. That way, Sylvi would know she wasn't lying. Grace asked him plenty of things, like if he was eating well, or if he had reconciled with Denzel's Pokemon. There were no questions about Pauline or Emi, because Grace was worried about Sylvi. This was his time, and the fairy type enjoyed being pampered. Seeing Grace have a full-on conversation with Sylvi was a lot weirder now that he knew the exact reason why she could do so. All this time, he had thought her to just be talented at picking up body language or specific words.

Eventually, the topic turned to training. Sylveon was doing a lot better for himself, and traces of his deficiencies had all but disappeared now that they had found a fragile equilibrium.

"Sylvi was always better at glamour than Princess," Grace said. "Arceus, Hatterene's going to be so pissed when I visit her. We haven't progressed at all on that front."

"Actually," Denzel raised a finger. "From what I understand, your Moonblast is different than ours. That means Princess uses glamour to shape hers the way she wants."

Grace's eyes widened. "Really? What's your Moonblast like?" she asked, turning to Sylvi.

"Not complete yet, but almost there. We'll have it mastered by the time we fight Wake," he explained. "But, uh, ours doesn't do all of that gravity stuff. It captivates the opponent and stops them from moving by blasting a wave of apathy at them. Kind of like what he can do with his ribbons, but on a bigger scale. So yours has a lot more destructive potential, and ours is more, like, utilitarian, I guess."

"That's so cool!" she yelled. "So is every Moonblast different? Damn it, Be—Hatterene! I bet you she's so full of herself that she considers every other Moonblast 'not proper' or something. That's the only reason why she wouldn't have brought this up."

"You know her a lot better than I do," Denzel said.

"Either way, I'm going to have her get Princess up to speed with glamour when we get here. She'll probably ask for something in return, but I'll just wrangle it out of her."

"Why yes, why don't you wrangle information out of a fairy that's centuries old," Denzel snorted.

"She's just a person," Grace deadpanned. "Like you and me."

A person that doesn't think at all like a human and puts more value in deals than lives, Denzel thought. Still, he wasn't going to tell Grace who she could or couldn't be friends with. Hatterene still terrified him, and he had no intention of ever traveling through that route again.

"You disagree," she noticed.

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?" he groaned.

"Dude, you're an open book. Maybe if you stopped doing that fist-clenching thing you do all the time and didn't strain your face every time something unpleasant happened to you, you'd hide more things from me."

—

This fucking sucked. So Arceus damn much. Pauline wanted to tear her hair and scream, but she'd done plenty of that already. Victory had been so fucking close. If she hadn't ordered Charizard to rush in as soon as Blaze triggered and played it safe instead, that Swanna would have been minced meat. The redhead bit her lip and kicked into her bed, accidentally hitting the wood and hurting her foot. She restrained a squeal and clasped her foot. Stupid. That was stupid. Primeape eyed her with a blank expression as she blew on her foot. Pauline had been with him long enough to know when he was annoyed or not.

"I'm sorry for disturbing your meditation, or whatever," she growled. "I'll be better."

The fighting type grunted, then stood up from his cross-legged position. He moved toward Pauline with silent steps and placed a hand on her knee.

"Are you… comforting me?" she asked.

Primeape agreed with his smooth voice, and then gestured at her before sitting cross-legged again, this time after hopping on her bed. Was he asking her to meditate? She didn't know the first thing about how the hell any of that worked! Still, it wasn't like she had anything else to do. She had asked for time alone, and alone she was. She was already trying to come up with ways to apologize to Denzel for her outburst. He had fucked up, but she hadn't helped things.

Pauline crossed her legs and took a few deep breaths, following Primeape's lead. These days, she acted more like a Primeape than he ever had.

She had lost, and no amount of 'what ifs' would fix things. Now, two options presented themselves before her. Get out of this crummy town and try to fly to Canalave ASAP, or just… give up for the year.

The choice wasn't that evident. Giving up was not in Pauline's vocabulary, but if she left, then she would leave her friends to face these poachers without her. She knew she was weaker than them by far. It didn't take a genius after seeing how Grace handled Palafin to know that she was outclassed by her and the others by miles, but she still wanted to do something. Pauline was not a child to be coddled. If she won every Gym from now on in one attempt, then making it to the Conference was theoretically possible, but Pauline knew better. Even if she could, her friends were more important than badges, and she still didn't have a sixth Pokemon. There was no way she would have beaten Byron for her sixth if she lost to Wake. Candice was maybe possible, but still.

Oh. I almost forgot to breathe. Pauline drew upon another long breath.

Gym Battles… Pokemon battling in general was just fun. Fun was why she'd wanted to make it to the Conference. She did not have any grand goals like the rest of her friends. Louis' sanctuary, Denzel being a symbol and a teacher, Justin wanting to revolutionize medicine or Grace's advocacy for Pokemon rights… Pauline had none of that. Instead, she just wanted a few years of traveling and hanging out with the people she loved before she got shoved into a position she didn't deserve in her mother's company. Plus, having badass Pokemon would do wonders to let people know not to fuck with her. Was not having a noble goal so wrong?

It wasn't, Pauline realized. She was Pauline, and she did whatever she wanted.

The redhead sighed in relief at the weight dropping off her chest. She would stay, then.

"This is nice," she muttered.

Primeape grunted in annoyance. Right, she couldn't talk during this entire process.

Maybe she'd even keep doing this meditation thing.

—

This girl was going to be the end of me, Melody groaned.

She pushed herself off her desk and stared through the window panes. Jubilife's skyline had always been way too crowded to her liking when compared to Veilstone. Granted, she'd grown up in the middle of nowhere in Solaceon, but she barely remembered those days, now. Better her parents' non-acceptance about her gender stay buried and blurry instead of vivid and traumatic like they were in her first days in Hearthome after she'd run away with no money or plan. Before the Darkest Day, Solaceon had always been a town where everything stayed the same because anything that was was obviously meant to be. Sprinkle a handful of bigotry, and it was easy to see why her parents tried to lock her in her room when she had come out as transgender at the age of sixteen— fifteen years ago, now, she mused.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

But Melody was getting sidetracked. Grace's recent performance against Wake was a true wonder. Not only was the score something the board loved, but the battle itself had blown up online due to how poignant the storyline and her acting had been. Or at least, Melody told the board that it was acting. She knew Grace well enough to know her quirks by now, and that girl down there, facing Wake? That had been just a piece of her true self. Melody leaned against her desk, double-checking that she hadn't missed any important emails. Sometimes, she had nightmares about that.

Ten minutes to 3:30 pm. It was time to meet the board again.

The Poketch Building in Jubilife was the central node of the entire company. The structure itself was made of two towers almost made entirely out of glass while the first five floors linked the two towers together. The board was, of course, on the highest floor of Jubilee Tower— the one Melody was currently in— which had been aptly named after Jubilife. The second tower was named Innovation. Just Innovation. It was where most engineers and programmers resided and worked on old and new products.

Including Grace's father, funnily enough. They had spoken on a few occasions when they crossed paths in the lobby, and he was a very nice man who loved his daughter to bits. The way he gushed about her achievements made Melody smile every time, and she kept having to accept his thanks for 'taking care of her'. They both knew how harsh the company's workload could be. Melody was Grace's shield, in a way. She only contacted her after parsing through the most important matters, and everything always filtered through her. Rising stars like her or her friends always caught the most attention from the media and other brands because they were fresh and new. Craig was Craig. A symbol. But he was old news by this point, as mean as the observation was. He didn't excite people, save for when the Conference started and he released that mega Salamence of his.

New people were shiny, and shiny things enticed the masses. Melody strode through the busy halls of Jubilee tower. The clack of her heels hitting the cold, granite tiles kept her steady. Melody had met the board more times than she could count since being promoted to Grace's Sponsorship Liaison and the girl had been made Craig Goodwill's heir, but it was hard not to feel the knot in her stomach. Offices passed her by the dozens. This floor was entirely dedicated to sponsorships, but not exclusive to liaisons. There were scouts for new and old talents, marketers, data analysts, social media managers, community relations managers, and of course, lawyers.

Never forget the lawyers. They stalked every nook and cranny of the company and were a veritable army. The government had tried to sue Poketch multiple times during the early days of Cynthia's tenure because of monopoly laws she had tried to establish after seeing Unova's conglomerates during her sabbatical, but they had always failed. These days, Poketch worked hand in hand with them, of course. It was Poketch that collected and sold data to the government at a very cheap price, since they didn't require any Porygon to do so. That had come in handy with Team Galactic running about.

But Melody Summers was but a neutral observer. She had climbed the ladder high enough to know these things, and honestly, so long as she got paid and got to do the job that she loved, she wouldn't throw a hissy fit. What would it even do, really? One woman, shouting into the void? She would instantly get smeared from every side, her word would be discredited and she would be blacklisted from ever working a similar job at any company.

The elevator dinged, and Melody stepped through the doors. Even the inside of these damn things were marble. The Poketch Company did not shy away from its luxuries. Inside was someone she knew very well. Jules Fulton. On the shorter side of things, slightly chubby and with a thick and well-trimmed beard and mustache that was starting to turn white. Also, Aubri Schneider's Sponsorship Liaison. The third one in three years. Working with her was a hassle.

"Jules," Melody greeted him. She passed the keycard around her neck on the sensors below the elevator's buttons and clicked on 109.

"Melody," he gruffed. Melody did not miss his eyes drifting to the button she'd pressed. "Off to see the board?"

"Hmhm. Grace won against Wake yesterday, I'm sure you've heard of it."

Jules snorted. "Ah, yes. Impaler, they call her. I'm sure that'll be wonderful PR."

"It will," she smiled ruefully. "People want something new, Jules. They're tired of us selling the same old story."

"Aubri's new," he said. "But we all know why she wasn't picked. Because they don't like the way she looks."

Melody rolled her eyes. Sure, that was true, but Aubri was a difficult person to even get a hold of. She was even worse than Craig, in that regard. Even without all of her scars and maimings, she wouldn't have been chosen. She would hate the job, Melody knew, but the only reason she wanted it was to buy a megastone, either for her Medicham or Sableye. Rumors were, she was close, but using mega evolution with only a few weeks of practice at the Conference was a surefire way to get yourself to the hospital or the Pokemon facing you hurt beyond what even Ditto cells could fix, or worse, so even if she got the stone before the month of June, she would not be able to use it.

"I know what you're thinking," he continued. Arceus, could this elevator ride be any longer? "But they could have given her a chance."

"You know as well as I do that there's no chance when money is involved."

Jules clicked his tongue. "And taking in that little bloodthirsty maniac of yours wasn't a chance? A first-year with no accomplishments—" he quickly finished his sentence when he saw the look on Melody's face, "—at the time."

"Craig recommended her. You can bury your head in the sand, but it's the truth, and it's worked out so far."

"Not without some hiccups—"

Jules cleared his throat and stopped when the elevator stopped, and a group of people in suits entered. It was not the first time they were having this debate. Grace was not without her opposition within Poketch, and it would be something she would have to learn to navigate soon enough. There was only so much Melody could protect her from. The company had a singular goal: to make as much money as possible. However, not everyone within agreed on what the best way to do so was. A company as large as this one was bound to have factions.

The elevator was empty again when she reached the final floor. The room was tiled in dark stones that reminded Melody of obsidian. The board had always had a flair for drama. It was unsettling, how empty the place was. There were no decorations, nor was there any furniture. The only person here was the board's secretary, who changed every month or so. Melody greeted her, the sound of her heels echoing throughout the massive room. She gently knocked, then slid the door to the boardroom open.

Six men and an empty chair sat before her, each and every one of them old, including the Poketch Company's founder, Remington McMillan. His son, the only member of the board with a foot not in a grave was not present. He never was. Even in his forties, Landis McMillan liked to live like a bachelor. Last she'd heard, he was taking an extended vacation in Alola with his new girlfriends that she was sure he hadn't paid a ludicrous amount. The table they sat by was ridiculously long and fancy, with carvings covering every inch of the old wood. Light from the huge window peered down on them from behind and cast looming shadows on the table.

"Members of the board," Melody said, without missing a beat. Her hands were prim and proper behind her back, and she stood up straight as an arrow.

"Melody," Remington said. All the others followed suit like drones. Melody was pretty sure Mr. Hemsworth to the left was senile. "The board is very pleased with your sponsee's performance. I suppose that will fix any… hiccups we had with her speech to Pastoria's Councillors."

Of course they hadn't liked it. Melody hadn't either, but Mallory had sent her a very long text gloating about it and she'd sent it to her contacts in Unova. A rising star, calling for 'Pokemon Liberation', Mallory had called it. There had been plenty of trainers like her, but none as vocal. Had Grace not swung Cynthia's name like a bat, the Poketch Company would have vocally disapproved, but they could not go against the Champion, at the moment. Not when they had fostered good relations through her many power grabs.

Had Grace done this on purpose? Melody wondered, or had it been luck?

"This impaler… what is it called again? Meme?" Mr. Sandy started with his usual raspy voice. Decades of smoking did that to a man, and the fact that he had pronounced 'meme' 'mehmeh' was not lost on Melody, but she kept her face straight. "It's very hip with the younger generations. A bit crass, but we can make it work."

"There is some opposition," Mr. Smithson added. "Especially from older trainers. Plenty of Conference goers have spoken out against her, and it's generating some bad press."

"You either love her, or you hate her," Mr. Sandy said. "There is no in-between."

"Permission to speak?" Melody asked.

"Granted," Remington said.

"There is a point to be made in the fact that her tactics are brutal, but they're also exciting. No one else does it like her," Melody said. "And isn't that what we want? So long as it only ruffles a few feathers and we have our PR team working twenty-four-seven on this, we can make it work."

Remington smirked. "Exciting… yes. That certainly is the case. I cannot remember a time when Poketch had this much attention, and more younguns are buying phones and watches than ever."

Melody smiled. His word was as good as law on the board. "I can have my team spreading it online as soon as this meeting is done."

Not that she needed to, when it was spreading so quickly but any boost in engagement would help.

Remington nodded. "Good, good. She'll ask for a raise as soon as she can, no doubt. Try to… guide her toward the right direction. We can't start paying her Craig's salary right away, not when we'd have a rebellion from our other sponsees on our hands."

Craig's salary? An exaggeration if there ever was one, but Remington liked to amplify statements to prove his point. If anything, Grace would probably ask for less than she was worth. She still didn't know how to value people as assets.

"Of course, Mr. McMillan," Melody answered. She wasn't committing to this idea, but nodding and agreeing now and attempting to change their minds later would be easier than a confrontation right this moment.

Poketch's CEO grabbed a stack of papers and adjusted his glasses. "Now, regarding the transition. Since Grace Pastel has agreed to meet, we'll need to prepare to make things as smooth as possible so our stock price doesn't take a hit. You'll have to prepare her for a news conference, then we'll have our design team start work on merchandise…"

Remington rambled on, and Melody hung to his every word.

As much as she disliked these wrinkly old men, she wanted this to be a success.

—

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?" Abel said with a teasing smirk.

You know this already, Xatu answered. The psychic's eyes shone, and she snatched the half-finished cigarette out of Abel's hands, smothering and compacting it until it became ash. You said you would quit.

"I say a lot of things I don't mean," he laughed.

This is not a joking matter. We are talking about your health.

"Relax, Xatu," he sighed, releasing one last trail of smoke out of his mouth. "I needed to decompress. It's almost time."

Mr. Backlot had been a good patron. An excellent one, even. He was, after all, the only rich prick crazy enough to host Abel in his home. The man was so obsessed with rare Pokemon that Abel had him biting out of his hand. He was currently in a room he had concealed with Malamar and Zazza's help, far away from all the Pokemon he had captured. Oh, they were still in the mansion, hooked up on all kinds of Candies until they lost their sense of self. The ones Backlot kept were not, of course. They needed to stay clean, because otherwise how else would the fatass be able to look at and enjoy their presence in his makeshift underground zoo? Rare Candies were terrible, but they also made Pokemon grow faster. Much faster than normal. It was unhealthy as sin, but Backlot's patrons needed them high and docile, and more power meant flashier battles, which was always good for the Game Corner's pitfights. Abel had only been in that VIP area once. Not that shabby place they hid down the stairs, but the real VIP area that was even more elusive. These people were without morals, and he hated every single one of them.

That did not mean he would not work for them. It was just business.

Until it wasn't.

"How's our little project going?" Abel asked.

Zazza has fed her enough information to have her act on her own. It will be soon, Xatu spoke. She closed her left eye and peered into the future. Things are proceeding as planned, but the odds of everything falling into place for us are pretty low.

Their project was in Pastoria, at the moment. One of Backlot's recently hired hands that they were manipulating, and she had chosen a very annoying target that had forced Abel to experiment with the limits of Malamar's abilities. Still, even if his shot in the dark had worked so far, Abel was not going anywhere near Pastoria. It was not because Mira Compton was there. The little runt had just caught him off-guard, and for that, she had his thanks. He had not been this close to getting caught in years, and the close call had allowed him and his Pokemon to improve leaps and bounds to fill the gaps that he now knew they had. Miracle Eye had been one, something Hypno had been working on for years, but never prioritizing, and there were plenty of new tricks as well. How else would they be hiding the massive Pokemon prison in this mansion?

"No choice in the matter," he said. "If this succeeds, we can get back to Unova. I have a bone to pick with Clarence."

Your quest for revenge will be the death of you.

"Honestly, Xatu, when have I not slipped away from a jam?" Abel smirked. He sat on the luxurious bed. Was that velvet? He didn't really know.

Abel had grown up poor. So poor that his mom had him eat cereal with a fork to save the milk for later. So poor he'd only had one pair of shoes that he had worn until his feet hurt from growing up. So poor his mother had drowned in medical debt until she died of lung cancer.

She'd been a smoker.

Even through all of his dealings and all of the money he had earned, he still couldn't live like he wanted to. Not when the money could be tracked. He could launder in small amounts, but not the sixty million he had stocked in Unova and the few million he had in Sinnoh. He had spent quite a few months gathering all of it, and now it was all here, in this room. The only place he'd be able to spend in large numbers was Alola, but unfortunately, his retirement would come far later than he wanted. Clarence needed to die first.

"Legendaries, I can't wait until we get to Alola. Xatu, do you want a yacht or a resort?"

You do realize that by bringing up retirement so often, you are taunting the strings of fate to string you up and hang you?

"Can't a man daydream about what he wants?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

Then, he paused.

"Do you hate what we're doing, Xatu?" Abel asked.

Not particularly, the bird answered. The Pokemon we captured are unfortunately just collateral damage. That is how business goes. I have done far worse for you, and I will keep going. Why would you ask when you know the answer already?

"I don't know," he shrugged after a pause. "Zazza hates it, and she keeps letting me know how much she hates it. It weighs on me."

None of his Pokemon were good people. They were criminals, just like he was, save for Dan, who was too young to understand the magnitude of their actions. They had injured, killed, stolen, destroyed, burned, looted, mind controlled when the time demanded it, but for Zoroark, this was personal, which was why they were going to fuck Mr. Backlot on the way out. To do that, however, they needed to screw over a lot of people first. Mind controlling him into confessing wouldn't work. Backlot would just hire lawyers to use it as a defense when all was said and done and wriggle his way out of things by saying that he had no control over his actions the entire time. Abel had never backstabbed someone who paid so well, but Zazza demanded it because for her, this was personal. Their actions had doomed many Pokemon to hell, but at the very least they would cut off the flow as soon as their plan kicked into motion and they left. The poaching had been happening even when Abel had not been hired, but on a much smaller scale. Backlot had been doing this for years. Honestly, Abel did not care much for the Pokemon suffering, but mostly for Zazza's state of mind.

Xatu spoke into his mind. Of course. She's the one who has to do most of the work, and she hates pretending to be human. She also knows how it feels to be abused. Still, now is not the time for doubts. If everything goes well, Mr. Backlot will—

"Yes," he said. "I know. We'll manage."

We always do. Somehow, you have found a way to consistently beat the odds, Xatu said with fondness in her eyes.

Abel snorted. "We're slippery."

That, we are.

Abel trudged through his room, passing by his suitcases full of cash as he rubbed his bare feet on the soft carpet. He peered through the window and saw sprawling gardens and fountains. The property was surrounded by massive hedges, and those hedges were surrounded by massive walls. Paid guards were everywhere outside of the walls. Most of them knew about the poaching. In fact, before Abel had come, they had been the ones hunting rare wild Pokemon to drug up and send to the Game Corner for profit. Sometimes, trainers' Pokemon were stolen too, but on much rarer occasions. Of course, his arrival had sped things up dramatically.

Abel had so expertly masked the hidden section of the mansion. Even inspectors from the League a month ago had found nothing.

Servants worked day and night to preserve the garden's beauty.

They truly did good work, didn't they? The Pokemon Mansion did look beautiful at this time of year, with all the flowers blooming about.