"Tell me, what do you think?" Victoria asked. The two had followed the girl a few more stations of her thieving tour to get an idea of how she worked. A few times they narrowly escaped detection. Meanwhile, they sat in Raymond's living room, listening to the soothing voice of Nicholas Gerard coming out the sonographer and chatting over tea and pastries.

Victoria inspected the wood-clad room. Its numerous bookshelves made it look more like a library in which someone had placed a sofa, a dresser and a table. A fireplace was set against the wall, in front of which a large, dog-like Pokémon with rolled horns, a bone-like structure on its back, and black fur had curled up. Numerous scars adorned the slender, powerful body. A milky eye, riddled with a ghastly scar, rested on Victoria, sending shivers down her spine.

"Before I do, I’d like you to tell me how you came across them."

"She works for Guillaume."

"Such clarity! All my questions are answered to a satisfactory degree. How generous of you!” Raymond rolled his eyes. “In case you missed it – I haven't been involved in any illegal activities for the past twelve years. From what I've seen, I can't say the same about you or about our little crook. Now, if you please had the kindness to enlighten me as to who in Arceus' name Guillaume is."

"Hmm. Guillaume is the ruler of the dumps. Of course, he doesn't call himself that. But everyone knows. Every now and then we had... something like overlapping interests in doing business. Although I never met the man himself. It doesn't matter. Hmm... Where was I?"

You wanted to tell us why the street rat works for the garbage king and what it has to do with you. Alakazam reminded her. As soon as they returned to Raymond's apartment, the Pokémon broke free from its spherical prison.

"Ah, exactly! Thank you. Hmm, I have a mole in Guillaume's vicinity. A reliable man who provides me with information and scatters every rumor that is supposed to spread in the dumps--"

"--I see. A meowth can’t spare a pidove. You've had that preference of infiltrating opposing organizations before."

"Hush. Stop being petty, Ray. A girl must know how to help herself. In any case, I noticed her a few weeks ago while handing over some… delicate goods. After that, I put my informant on her. Apparently, it's been quite some time since Guillaume took our street rat under his wing. In the past few weeks he began using her more frequently for errands, arena fights and other criminal activities. No idea what his goal for her is or why she works for him. We know virtually nothing about her."

"Arena fights." Raymond said skeptically.

"Oh dear, you're completely behind. When was the last time you were outside? Hmm, all the same. Guillaume has built an illegal Pokémon Gym in the dumps. No, not exactly built. It's more like... he cleared some space for people to fight and calls it Gym or Arena or what-do-I-know. In any case, you can win the Street Badge if you're fighting him.”

Victoria made a dismissive gesture.

"It's a thorn in the side of the gendarmerie, but they rarely dare venturing into the dumps, where different rules prevail. Furthermore, it’s unclear whether the gendarmerie, the gardién, the military or anyone else is responsible. No one's getting harmed. And if one does... well, it's illegal anyway. Why should the executive do something about criminals pitting themselves against each other? In any case, the fights organized by Guillaume are highly unofficial, forbidden and despised. Well, it's probably what makes it appealing to some. It's kind of an accolade for small-time criminals or busybodies who can't make it into a normal arena. Or young adventurers who want to experience some thrill and prove themselves in real life. I've no idea. I guess anyone who tries to win the Street Badge will have their reasons. No matter how idiotic they may be."

"My goodness. As it seems Kalos has it even worse than I thought." Raymond sighed. "The lack of talent cultivation, elegance and finesse is indeed a worrying development. Now I understand a little better why you wanted to show me your street rat."

Do you think the same as I? Alakazam's voice rang out in Raymond's thoughts. Raymond wrinkled his forehead, pondered for a few seconds and gave his friend a silent answer.

"An unolished diamond, hidden in the dirt of the dumps. In addition, three extraordinary Pokémon with high synergy. Yes, she could be the one. She probably has the potential to be. But I'm not sure yet. I must see more before I make a final decision."

"She would simplify some things for us but requires attention and training in return." Raymond stated.

"Do you think it's possible? A shapeshifter could be a gamechanger for us."

"You have a fine nose, Victoria - even though you haven't grasped the significance of this particular Pokémon's abilities. Okay. I'll take care of the girl. It's what you had in mind from the beginning anyway.”

"I won’t comment on that. But still, thank you. Please hurry up with the recruitment. For some time, Guillaume has been using her much more aggressively than before. He's quite greedy and I think he wants to expand business to Lumiose. Sooner or later, she will be discovered by the gendarmerie. By then it's too late for us."

We could take advantage of the turbulences that will follow the opposition’s ban. Alakazam suggested audibly for everyone. Raymond's lips curled into a grin. Victoria's gaze wandered questioningly back and forth between the well-coordinated team.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Surely some kind of protest is planned. A demonstration perhaps. "

Victoria nodded. "On Grand Rue. Shortly after the passing of the law."

"Excellent. I already have some thoughts on this. Ideas, you’ll have to implement in your little protest.”

“Whatever you want. For what reason, though?”

“To lure the street rat out of her nest." Raymond’s eyes sparkled dangerously. "And to drive her right into our arms."

Snow had fallen during the night. The once immaculate white had already turned into brownish mud. The dirt of the city clung to the streets.

"Once so beautiful, now so ugly." Raymond shook his head. His feet had carried him through the slush and all the way to the metro. He had to change trains twice and drive about an hour to get to the southern foothills of the city.

An arched gate made of old stone marked the boundary between Lumiose and its slums, which wrapped around the city like a belt of filth. Raymond noticed the change in the air quality when he left the metro. Now that he entered the slums, he was struck by a smell that almost made him nauseous.

[https://i.imgur.com/TcF8Mzo.jpg]

"This will require more effort and willpower than I had anticipated," Raymond admitted. Although he received no answer, he knew that Alakazam was listening from his Pokéball. They weren't far enough from the city yet to free the Pokémon without attracting unwanted attention.

Alakazam was an extremely rare Pokémon, and Raymond wasn’t aware of another one in Kalos, as old and powerful as his companion. He suspected there was a maximum of two or three Pokémon in Kalos that could stand up to his Alakazam. A benevolent estimate. Which made it all the more important for the two of them to escape the government's clutches. Raymond tried to enjoy his secluded life. In order to avoid inferences about his true identity, he had even assumed a false name. For the world in general and that of the authorities in particular, his latest name was Algernon Winter. An inconspicuous taxpayer who didn't mess around.

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Unlike back in the city center, Raymond clearly set himself apart. His green checkered tweed suit stood in harsh contrast to the poverty-stricken inhabitants of the slums. An old woman sat on the side of the road. Her face had sunken, and her scrawny, trembling hands were clutching a dirty bowl tightly. "ALMS FOR MY FAMILY" was written in scrawled letters on a piece of cardboard that lay in front of her.

"Please, just a Pokédollar, monsieur!" The woman whimpered in Raymond's direction. She wasn't the only one doing so. An old man, young children; the whole street was full of beggars: poorly fed, unkempt, without prospects. Raymond wrinkled his nose.

"I wonder what repels me more. Is it their disgusting smell or the general lack of hygiene and manners?" Undeterred, he walked on. The farther his footsteps carried him away from the city, the more the wailing cries of the beggars turned into angry and spiteful remarks. "As if my money would change anything about their situation. I wonder, what Alakazam would say now. Probably, he'd lecture me about how I contributed in creating these conditions; how it's up to me now in changing them for the better."

Raymond sighed. Walking through the slums was harder for him than before. No matter where he went, he encountered old and sickly people or young ones gathering in small gangs.

"I have indeed been hiding from the world for too long it seems."

"Hey, pal!"

Raymond examined the young man, who spoke up to him. A slight plum on the upper lip was his most striking feature. The half-strong blocked the path with crossed arms and gave Raymond a provocative gaze. "Dat’s a mighty fine suit. Lemme take ya money, ya can keep the suit."

Two peers positioned themselves left and right to their leader, trying to look dangerous and providing emotional support.

"Like a brittle blade, on the verge of breaking. It won't take much to destroy them. They lack a proper hand to form and guide them." Raymond wrinkled his forehead, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for three heartbeats. When he opened them again, the aura of decades of battlefield experience surrounded him. His gaze was deadly, his voice cutting.

"Boy – you're barking up the wrong tree! I guess you thought I’d be an easy victim, yes? Well, I'll tell you what's going to happen now: you’ll tuck your tail and fuck off while you still have the opportunity. Unless you want your comrades to watch me thrusting your teeth so deep down your throat, you’ll choke on them in the most miserable manner."

"The hell is dis?!" The leader of the gang was seething with rage. His head was red like a ripe tomato.

"There's still strength in me." Raymond encouraged himself. He easily avoided the leader's right hook by bending his upper body to the side. In a fluid motion, Raymond grabbed his opponent's arm and used his momentum to pull him forward. It threw him off balance and allowed Raymond to violently drive his knee into the young man's stomach. The gangleader groaned in pain as his body bent forward. He had no time to catch his breath. The edge of Raymond's hand hit him hard on his exposed neck. The aggressor's body collapsed limply, hitting the ground with a dull sound. Raymond's mind was still in overdrive: "Don’t show any sign of weakness. Be calm. Suppress the gasps. Demoralize the enemy. Force submission!”

He kicked the unconscious leader in the face. One could hear an ugly noise as Raymond's brown leather shoe hit the young man's nose with full force. The nostrils began to bleed. Raymond tilted his head to the side, cracked his dervical vertebrae as he moved and turned his gaze to the two youths who were still standing.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen now: you’ll tuck your tail and fuck off as long as I let you. Otherwise, you'll be next." Raymond pointed to the larger one of the two. The situation reminded him of the war. "Destroy the leader and the structures around him will crumble into their individual parts. The madness that drove me back then still slumbers in me."

"Do you want to fight the old man?" Raymond heard one of the teenagers hiss. While the broken nose of their leader turned into an unhealthy yellow, they engaged in a lively discussion about their course of action.

"Time to end this charade."

"If the gentlemen have decided how to proceed, I would be very pleased to hear of your plans. In a timely manner, if you may. Otherwise, I’ll say my goodbyes since I still have business to do. You don't happen to know where I can find Guillaume?" Raymond asked, smiling smugly. The young people turned chalky.

"D-d-do you work with G-Guillaume?" One of them squeezed out anxiously.

"Interesting. The name actually makes an impact." Raymond's eyes sparkled in a dangerous manner. The teenager shuddered and finally pointed their hands to the left.

"Arceus be damned! Rather than take it to a professional dry cleaner, it's probably better to burn my current wardrobe." Raymond held a handkerchief in front of his nose. It hardly served its purpose. He grimaced at the bestial stench that surrounded him.

"There is a filth no one should be living in. No wonder the gendarmerie doesn't show up here."

Most of Lumiose’s inhabitants knew the dumps only by name. Entering them was an experience on another level. Raymond wished to be still part of the ignorant crowd that never set foot in this forsaken place.

"Hello, Monsieur. I wonder, if i may have your attention?"

Raymond got no response from the thickly dressed beggar, who was rummaging through the trash.

"Excuse me, Monsieur. I don't mean to interrupt, but I’d like to receive some information from you."

The homeless man turned around, stared at Raymond, and shook his head. Annoyance was written in his face.

"I don’t rat on anyone. Right mate? Out here, you meet the wrong people, you end buried six feet deep. Best for you to screw off. Its good advice, its free advice. You ain’t welcome here. You and your kind."

"I sincerely thank you for the advice and I'm sure it was given with the best of your intentions. Still, I'd like to kindly implore you, not to trouble yourself with the matter of my safety since it is only my business." Raymond pulled a wallet from the inside pocket of his coat and opened it demonstratively: "Well, when we’re already talking about business: As I mentioned before – I am interested in information. And willing to pay a fair price to a good lad."

Cautiously, the homeless looked to the side. He beckoned Raymond closer, tucked his head between his shoulders, and murmured. "What do you want to know?"

"I'm looking for my niece. I was told she is currently living here under a false name. Nevertheless, I am confident to find her. After all, the burn scars on her face as well as her habit in taming Pokémon are hard-to-miss features."

"Your niece, huh?" The man grunted contemptuously. "Know who you mean. Not many girls ‘round here. We call her Ghost. You know, because no one notices when she comes or leaves. Like a Ghost. Creepy gal. Don't care if it's your niece or not. Better forget ‘bout her. Ghost works for Guillaume. That's all I have to say. And now... my money. Quick!"

"Of course." Raymond handed the beggar $10 Pokédollars. Before he could even blink, the man made the banknote disappear into the depths of his jacket. A contemptuous smile formed on Raymond's lips. "If you show me the direction she usually goes, I'll double."

An hour later and 50 Pokédollars poorer, Raymond stood in front of the presumed dwelling of the street rat, who apparently went by the name Ghost. The inhabitants of the dumps had described her poorly assembled construction of cloths and poles as a tent.

"Not that it deserves that name." Sighing, Raymond reached for his handkerchief, unfolding it with a sweeping movement of his hand. The handkerchief’s thin fabric served as a protective barrier between his skin and the material of the so-called tent. He pushed aside the scraps that marked the entrance. As soon as he was about to enter, he heard loud protests from two homeless people, who ran towards him.

"Hands off!" One of them shouted.

"Screw off, you fucker!" The other one’s voice cracked. Raymond smiled, knowing his previous investments were paying off now.

"Forgive my curiosity." He took two steps away from the tent and held his hands up in the air. The white handkerchief waved like a small flag in the wind.

"Fuck you!" One of the homeless snapped at him. His hands were clenched into fists. Raymond estimated the man to be in his mid-forties. Although chubby, he didn't seem like someone who ate a lot. The second man had an unkempt beard and long hair. He was gaunt and probably between 50 and 60 years old. The elder had put his hand on the other man's shoulder in a reassuring way.

"Calm down, Paul. Think about your blood pressure. He's aware. We got what we wanted."

"What does he think he’s doin’?! It's not his tent! You know that!" The man whose name was apparently Paul was still worked up.

"Gentlemen." Raymond interfered politely. "Perhaps I can shorten your discussion. I'm looking for my niece. Obviously, she operates under the name "Ghost" and has gotten herself into bad company after she ran away from home. I'm just trying to bring her back to the family."

"Sal doesn't have a family, asshole. Who are you?" The elderly man’s eyes were narrowed into slits. All kindness had vanished from his voice.

"Ah, how unfortunate. Well, nevertheless, I am inclined to free her from this misery. If you'd be so kind as to tell me more about Sal." Raymond happily opened his wallet and held out some banknotes to the two of them.

"We’re not selling her out! Fuck you!" The chubby man yelled angrily.

"O tempora, o mores! When did we stop being polite to each other? By this, I don't mean us specifically, but we as a society. Ah. I digress. Please forgive me for my leap of thought. Although I deeply admire your loyalty, especially in times of ours, I cannot help noticing a conflict of interests--"

"-- Listen, lad. Leave the smart talk for those interested. Stop fiddling around, get lost and we forget what we saw." The older man interrupted Raymond, who folded his hands happily in return.

“Well, if that’s the case, I guess I’ll have to resort to other means of persuasion. When asked later, you can simply say I violently forced you to do this.”

Raymond picked up one of the two Pokéballs hanging from his belt and pressed the button in the middle. A red light appeared, announcing a Pokémons coming.

"Alakazam--" Raymond instructed. "-- dive deep into their minds. Take everything they know about the girl!"