The rue d'oiseau rouge was located on the edge of the city center. It was one of the better areas of Lumiose and formed an invisible line, separating the rich and poor areas of the capital city. Guillaume's assignment had led Sal to the cobblestoned street. Numerous shops and cafés emerged between the densely packed apartments. An orchestra of impressions poured down on her: the sweet scents of several booths contested against the sounds of countless conversations, craving for Sal's attention. She felt a strange, hesitant optimism surrounding the people around her. This place was alive.

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People poured through the street. No one looked at Sal a second time. Trix made sure of that. Her ability to create illusions morphed Sal into a respectable citizen. The Pokémon only changed small details: the worn-out clothes looked like new, now fitting like a glove. Additionally, Trix created an illusion over Sal's face, hiding the burn scars. Trix gave herself the appearance of Skitty: a feline Pokémon, often walked on a leash in the hand of some spoiled brat. Sal had witnessed it more than once.

Another challenge of their camouflage was masking the stench of the dumps. This is where Salandit's abilities kicked in. The lizard-like Pokémon was able to produce a pheromone that gave off an intense but pleasant aroma. Mainly, it used this ability to charm male creatures, turning them from furious enemies into docile pets. Now, Salandit used one of it's weapons as a perfume, masking Sal's bad body odour with a discreet fragrance. Without saying a word, Sal walked through the Rue with feigned calmness. Nervous sweat of fear ran down her back. It was her first time scouting such a high-profile street.

“Shit! Why did it have to be me?” She was upset about the unfair distribution of tasks, especially since she knew her share of the loot was hardly worth mentioning. If there was one at all. Her gaze wandered back and forth between the shops of the rue d'oiseau rouge: an old bookstore, a cozy café, and a laundry caught her eye. Hardly the worthwhile goals Benoit had demanded of her. Her feet carried Sal further over the pavement. Past the workers, the strollers, and the shoppers. Until she noticed something that made her jump for joy: a jeweler! Maybe this was her opportunity. A worthwhile target. A major coup that got her a ticket out of misery.

Fixating her target, she began to move. Sal's heart was pounding wildly as she passed the entrance to the store. She was running the worst-case scenarios in her mind, fully aware that she couldn't go on like this forever. However, she was lucky. The fears haunting her didn’t turn into reality: no security personnel to overwhelm her. No gendarm to take her away, right on the spot.

Only a smiling elderly gentleman, whose narrow face disappeared behind too-big glasses and an impressive mustache. He nodded at Sal in greeting. Two other customers stood in front of one of the numerous display cases, engrossed in an intense conversation about the price tag of a chain.

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"May I help you, young lady?" asked the salesman in his most polite tone. Sal wasn't sure what to say. A hundred thoughts flashed through her head. She wondered if her slang would give her away; if the vendor hid a baton under the counter – or maybe a cruel Pokémon with which he could overpower Sal before the gendarmerie gave her the rest. No one cared about the whereabouts of a random homeless girl.

"Not at the moment,“ she replied a little stiff. Sal looked away and started inspecting the store's interior, which kept her occupied for a few minutes. After some time, the couple bought something, leaving the jeweler for good. Three other customers had entered in the meantime.

Sal observed the seller giving buying advice to a well-fed young man who clearly ate too much. The young man's sweater and thick jacket didn’t give a favorable impression of him, since they couldn’t hide his round proportions. It was a different situation for the other two people in the shop - an elderly gentleman, wearing a tight-fitting suit as well as his much younger companion. An athletic built woman with sharp features and short hair. The two were engrossed in a conversation about fashion and seemed to be just looking around.

Sal couldn't blame them. Sparkling gemstones were neatly lined up next to each other. Blue, red, green, and yellow jewels, some in refined silver settings, others hanging on chains. She saw rings, pearls, bracelets, and necklaces, as well as some jewelry, the usefulness of which she couldn’t even guess. The shop wasn’t very big – almost inconspicuous from the outside, but it contained a wealth that took her breath away. Much to her regret, Sal found the jewels on display secured with sturdy locks.

"Isn't that dangerous?" she asked the salesman after a while. He frowned.

"What do you mean, young lady?"

"This all. It’s so valuable. Bad people are on the streets. Sometimes it can be really..." she paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words, "...spooky."

Sal felt Haunter leaving her shadow. It was a risky move, but most times he was able to stay hidden from the eyes of others. His job was to scout the upper floor and the space behind the counter. The Ghost was the perfect burglar. Not only was he able to make himself almost invisible, but he could also float through solid matter, such as a shop door or a wall.

"Ah, questions of security. Don't worry. So far, we haven't had to escort any of our customers home,“ the salesman chuckled. "I run this business. In the third generation, if I may add. And I can assure you: a lack of security has never been a major problem in this area. After all, the gendarmerie is just two streets away."

Sal was highly focused as she listened to him. Occasionally, she scattered seemingly innocent remarks such as "Isn't that difficult?" or "... and you can do it all by yourself?" to keep him talking.

“Come back. Come back. Come back.“ Sal's hands were sweaty. It wasn’t easy to summon up all her courage to keep the seller happy. The more she spoke, the greater the likelihood of being exposed. Some of the words the shop-owner used were new to her and made no sense. But she knew by now that he was widowed. Sal felt a piercing, intense look on her back.

“It’s just your imagination. Don't go crazy.”

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Trix's encouraging thoughts spread warmly inside Sal, giving her the desperate needed strength to overcome the arduous task of stalling time for Haunter.

Sal took a deep breath. The air in the city center had a different quality than in the dumps. Sal felt like she had broken off her chains, now tasting the sweet scent of freedom. Her heart trembled, but she tried to regain her cool. Her dangerous undertaking had gone unnoticed. She stood outside the store again, inspecting its front.

"Trix, cover us!"

At Sal's command, Trix weaved an illusion. If one gazed in their direction now, they could only see Sal looking in a hand mirror, powdering herself. Reality, however, was different.

"Corry, come out!“ Sal crouched down, taking off her backpack. Immediately, the reptilian Salandit darted out, looking expectantly at Sal, who was busy searching through her backpack. It took her a few seconds to found the stencils. Several inconspicuous signs were carved into thin logs. Sal grinned. In her hands, she held a wooden symbol, somewhat reminiscent of a diamond. She placed it on the jeweler’s wall. In their circles, this sign meant 'rich booty'.

"Time to earn your share.“ Sal looked at Salandit. The Pokémon didn’t disappoint her. Salandit’s narrow tail glided precisely along the blank spaces, carved into the wooden stencil. Where Salandit touched the masonry, she released a corrosive toxin, giving out a sweet smell that caused dizziness. Bubbling, the toxin ate its way through a thin layer of the house's façade, etching the tramps sign into the masonry. As fascinating as it was, Sal paid no further attention to the process. Instead, she looked around intently.

"Always be vigilant!“ Guillaume had imprinted in her mind. Trix's illusions could only fool the eyes. Even if no one could see what was happening right now, the warmth of fire could still be felt by someone close enough. Sal's eyes narrowed into slits. Her head tingled.

“I could have sworn... nah, had to be my imagination” Sal looked in the direction of a dark corner, from which she had sensed something, only if for a short second. But there was no one to be seen. She pondered for a while if the poison was playing tricks with her mind.

"Spooky, if I say fire, you immediately come out of the shadows and attack.” Sal thought, it couldn't hurt to be too careful. "Trix, you feel it too?"

Sal sensed the illusionist agreeing with her, also inspecting the area with a healthy amount of disbelief and suspicion.

"But who should be watching me? Nah. Nevermind. We remain cautious and that’s it. End of the story.“

In the meantime, Salandit had burned two more signs into the wall of the house. One of the symbols consisted of a horizontal and a vertical line. It meant that the person in question was living alone. Sal felt a little sorry for the poor man.

He had trusted her with important information, revealing more about himself than was good. Tonight, he would probably pay the bill. Without ever knowing it was Sal who made him a target for Guillaume. When Salandit disappeared into her backpack, Sal was already on the lookout for new targets. She still had a lot of work ahead of her.

The setting sun bathed the horizon in pastel colors. Sal observed a Pokémon vendor, who had set up his booth at the end of the street. A large tent stretched across several tables. On one, Sal saw several Caterpie, Weedle and Scatterbug crammed into a cage. At other tables there was a similar sight: several different specimens were locked together in a small space. Larger Pokémon, like Mareep or Snubbull, had their own cages on the ground. In addition, there were some Pokéballs on pillows. Next to them were drawings and descriptions of the "goods" on offer.

"We really should go back to Guillaume.“ Absent-minded, Sal strolled past the booth. Her gaze had caught on a small bird trapped in the cage. It was called Fletchling and had a red head and gray plumage. The bird was poorly nourished and looked longingly out of his cage.

"Well.“ Sal greeted the Pokémon with a smile and stepped closer. Fletchling raised his head. His dark button eyes met her gaze. Sal felt a strange attachment to the bird. Like her, he danced in someone else's hand; trapped in a cage, longing for freedom.

"It's a Fletchling, madame!" A middle-aged merchant routinely interfered. His voice was as smooth as his skin. Not a single stubble of beard was to be seen. Sal noticed that he was wearing good but slightly worn clothes. Something about it irritated her.

“It almost looks like he made the signs of wear on purpose,” she thought, while the merchant continued his speech.

"--Fletchling can evolve. If you get a permit for it, of course. If you want to, I can help you fill out the paperwork. Also, he has a penchant for the fire element. The ideal ornamental or hunting companion for riding. Or a suitable heat source when wood becomes scarce again. Not that you’d need it, madame."

"How much?" Suddenly, Sal felt a strong sense of rejection. She glanced at Trix, still disguised as Skitty.

"Oh, not much. A real bargain. Only 9,000 Pokédollars. Cage and care set for the plumage are included free of charge.“ The merchant’s eyes sparkled. Sal had no idea about prices. But she understood people. His way of talking, the worn clothes – it made sense, in a twisted way. Sal raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"9,000 Pokédollars?" she said sarcastically.

"Corry was worth much more.“ About half a year ago, she had liberated Salandit from a situation awfully similar to this one. She still remembered the astronomical price of 140,000 Pokédollars, that was called for her Pokémon. Enough money to feed the entire dumps for several months, if not years, she estimated.

"Ah, of course. You have doubts, madame. Who can blame you? Those are difficult times, we're living in! Difficult times indeed! Well, I can empathize with you. But let's take a look at my perspective for a few seconds, because the only thing you see is the price – and believe me, it's very cheap – but not the expenses! Cost of living, stand fee, fees for licenses, service fees for the district administration. Did you know that a fee to catch Pokémon costs $50,000? In addition, an annual fee for renewal.

I pay booth rent, a commission for every Pokémon sold, and we haven't even talked about my gear! Each Poké Ball goes for $300. One is often not enough. I have to take care of my own Pokémon – for which I also pay money: food, care, and so on. Let's assume two or three Pokéballs are needed to catch one specimen. As you can tell, the costs have already gone through the roof.

In addition, there is the risk I bear every single time when I go into the fields and forests. Not to mention all the other hidden costs! I pay money to catch, own and sell Fletchling. Believe me, madame: 9,000 Pokédollars is extremely generous of me. Though I'm inclined..."

The merchant hesitated. He remained silent and sighed theatrically, seemingly waiting for a reaction.

"Yes?" Sal suppressed the desire to roll her eyes in response.

The merchant bit thoughtfully at the tip of his tongue. He scratched his head in embarrassment and bent it forward, placing his lips next to Sal’s ear, murmuring softly: "Listen, madame. Because I see that Skitty is well cared for and in good hands... I'd give you Fletchling for $8,000 Pokédollars. Practically a gift! You won't get poor, I won't get rich, but can cover the expenses for today. Also, Fletchling gets a wonderful new owner. Everyone wins! How about it?!"

Sal looked at Fletchling. Behind its black and hopeful eyes, she saw intelligence, empathy, and hope. Sal understood him. She understood him so well. Like Fletchling, she wanted to escape from her cage. Spread her wings and fly.

"Shit. I can't even save myself.“

Sal’s heart felt like a heavy lump. She decided it was time to keep working instead of dreaming. Dreams were a beautiful thing for those who were able to afford them. For Sal, they only meant pain. When they rose into the air like beautiful bubbles, bursting in the face of reality.