“I’ll commend you for your efforts.” Blain grunted in the most antagonizing tone possible, “but don’t think that I’ll be letting you off the hook just yet.”

“Of course not, Mr. Investigator.” I responded in a fake smile, as if to match his tone, “I wouldn’t dare to.”

Something was off when I answered his question for the first time. Although I technically spoke the truth about not knowing who this body belonged to, I thought of myself when he asked for confirmation. And since I had knowledge of my past life, the Cleffa deemed my statement as false.

So all I needed to do was answer truthfully about this body’s circumstances.

When the second time the same question came around, I simply assumed the question was addressed to the physical body, and not me myself.

But this body did belong to me now, so it made sense to say ‘I don’t remember who I am’ when I technically meant ‘I don’t remember who I(this body) was’.

It was a gamble but I won out in the end. Now with his lie-detector proven faulty I wonder what other tricks he has in that pitch-black trench coat of his.

We stared at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity, neither wanting to back down. Then without any warning, he did something that left me completely baffled.

Instead of pulling out another Pokemon of torture or continue his line of questions, he simply laughed. And not the foul kind of laughter either, it was a whole-hearted, exuberant chortle that betrayed his skeptical appearance.

At first I thought maybe he saw through my bluff, or maybe he found my fake smile to be comedical. But instead he kicked his chair back with both hands behind his head in a nonchalant fashion while chuckling some more. I was seriously starting to doubt if he had just lost it at this point. Even his own Cleffa looked at him with bewildered eyes, or as much bewilderment its tiny beady eyes would allow.

“I do apologize for my lack of professionalism, it’s just that it’s my first time handling someone this young and… entertaining.” Blain declared after finally regaining his composure.

“Thanks for the… compliment?” I tilted my head a bit at the unexpected praise.

“Don’t sweat it kid,” detective Blain says as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes, mulling over whether or not to light it in front of me when he eventually realized he was still inside the children’s ward, “truthfully speaking, I never doubted you in the first place, my partner here was more of a test for your mental fortitude.”

Uh huh…

“I’ve got the examination reports from Dr. Elliot,” the vigilante-turned-government-official flicked the doujin-sized pages as he mused, “those are not events that even a grown man would have survived through, so either you’ve got a special body constitution… or your mental fortitude is through the roof.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Uh huh……

“And since Dr. Elliot didn’t really find anything too special about you in the physical departments, I took it upon myself to test your psychological fields.”

Uh huh…?

“If you didn’t know, Detect doesn’t just peek at your mind. When used on a human being, it essentially messes up your psywaves the same way a move like Psychic would…”

“Meaning?” I interrupted before he could finish, his monologue was going nowhere and I desperately needed information on this world, or even myself.

“You just withstood levels of psywaves that will usually incapacitate a normal person like it was nothing.” Blain concluded.

Wait… wait wait wait… doesn’t that mean that I’m actually kinda amazing? Am I immune to psychic attacks? (Am I a dark type Pokemon or what LOL).

“Now the scars on the nape of your neck might have something to do with it, but it seems that most children we have rescued share that common injury so we’re not too certain either.”

Huh? Scars?

My hand reached inside the hoodie around my back and felt around, but came up with nothing that felt uneven.

“The cuts were clean and surgical-like, although the purpose for them is still unknown to us.” Blain explained as he slid two sheets of pictures towards me from the pile of examination papers.

One of them was in black and white and only showed the bones, like some sort of x-ray scan. While the other was a photograph taken of what I presumed to be my back from the nape to my waistline. In both pictures was a perfectly circular mark, the size of a gumball, right in the back of the neck below the shoulders.

A mark in an x-ray scan meant that whatever that surgical-cut was has definitely penetrated my spinal cord. But the place where the incision would have been felt smoothly normal.

Too smooth actually.

Then I saw exactly what was going on in the other image.

The incision looked like a birthmark, except it was a lighter shade compared to my own skin and way too circular to be a natural abnormality.

“We’ve retrieved hundreds of children that have received the same wound, this goes beyond just simple child trafficking.” The detective in black suddenly adopts a more serious tone, “unfortunately, most didn’t survive, and the ones that did are still in rehabilitation from the major psychological trauma.”

“I understand that you’re experiencing dissociative amnesia and would rather not disclose your familial circumstances. I won’t press you any further on that so please, try to recall anything you can regarding the kidnapping event.” It was the most sincere I’ve seen anyone be, let alone from a shady looking interrogator.

But what does he mean about me not telling him my family’s situation, I didn’t even mention anything about that at all.

“I’m not an investigator for nothing you know,” Blain must’ve mistaken my look of confusion for shock, because he had this smug look on his face as he carried on with his explanation, “the first question I asked was regarding your recollection of yourself and your family, while the second one was addressing only you yourself. And since you lied in the first question and not the second one, it means that there’s something going on in your family that you would rather not tell me about.”

Ahhh… I guess he tripped himself over for that one. Well it’s always easier to let him mislead himself rather than explain how a 22 year old NEET got magically isekaied one day into the world of Pokemon in the body of a young girl.

Now I’ve just got to fake my awe at his 100% accurate deduction.

“Wow! That was amazing, I can’t believe you saw right through me!” I couldn’t help but grit my teeth from the cringe that was my acting.

Okay… maybe I should have taken those acting lessons my mom signed me up for back when I was 8.