Chapter Fifty-Four: Adams's Home

“Sister Maple, do you want something to eat?” Heath looked at Junsha Maple, who had just come out of the gym, smiling as he rubbed his hands together, feeling very much like a shopkeeper.

“…Are you curious about why I was angry?” Junsha Maple wiped the sweat from her forehead and cast a sidelong glance at Heath.

Heath nodded eagerly—not just curious, he was practically itching to find out. If Junsha Maple didn’t explain soon, he was tempted to go see Mr. Adams at his house himself. He had a strong suspicion that her anger was somehow related to Mr. Adams.

Seeing Heath’s incessant nodding, Junsha Maple couldn’t help but let out a vexed laugh. She flicked his forehead lightly with her finger.

“Fine, I’ll tell you, but you mustn’t spread this around.” She tossed her towel into a nearby bin and sat down.

Heath immediately sat beside her, wanting to know what could have provoked Junsha Maple so much.

“This afternoon, I visited Mr. Adams’ house because my superior asked me to go and see if I could get any information about that helpful citizen,” Junsha Maple said calmly. Heath kept silent, listening intently.

“Although we call them a helpful citizen, we both know that person is a tracking expert. That’s how they managed to catch that Charmander. My superior wanted to get in touch, since we might need their help in the future.” Heath nodded thoughtfully. He knew about tracking experts; some were said to be able to find a Rattata’s nest deep in the forest.

“But!” Junsha Maple’s eyes flashed with anger again, and even though she wasn’t glaring at Heath, he still felt an immense pressure.

“When I was at Adams’ place, I smelled blood—and I heard Charmander’s agonized cries!” Junsha Maple clenched her fist in fury.

Heath’s mouth opened slightly. He could understand the root of Junsha Maple’s anger; Adams’ actions were a blatant disregard for her.

But Adams did have such influence—after all, he was listed among the richest in Evergreen City. Unless there were special circumstances or solid evidence, the Security Bureau had to be extremely cautious even to issue a search warrant.

“Sister Maple, did you ask him about it?” Heath felt his scalp twinge, realizing Zorua was pulling at his hair.

“I did. Then Adams enthusiastically showed me the Charmander, saying it was already injured when it was brought in, and his son was bathing and treating it.” Junsha Maple sneered, a look of disgust flickering across her face.

Heath rubbed his nose. It was a clumsy but effective excuse.

As long as Adams’ son was indeed treating the Charmander when Junsha Maple arrived instead of abusing it, there was nothing she could do—after all, the Charmander was the Adams family’s Pokémon.

And as Heath expected, Junsha Maple had found no evidence or suspicious clues; the injuries on the Charmander did look like they were from battles.

“Just keep this to yourself.” Junsha Maple seemed to feel a bit lighter after unburdening herself, but watching her retreating figure, Heath knew she was still deeply troubled.

“Tch, this world…” Heath shook his head. Expecting everyone to be good was the height of naivety.

Just as in his previous life, where some people took pleasure in abusing animals, there were also those here who enjoyed tormenting Pokémon. Heath had seen news reports of the League raiding and dismantling numerous criminal syndicates and arresting many people.

Some had been arrested specifically for abusing Pokémon—their methods so cruel they sent chills down one’s spine.

“Zorua, can your illusions fool surveillance cameras?” Heath glanced at Zorua, a plan beginning to take shape in his mind.

“Of course! Unless someone tries to hug you, no one will see through my illusion,” Zorua replied, pride in her voice. Heath finally relaxed.

Zorua’s illusion abilities were outstanding—enough to amaze Heath. But she had warned him: in the gym, her illusions could only last about an hour and a half, so Heath needed to be quick.

Soon, cloaked in Zorua’s illusion, Heath slipped into Adams’ home in the guise of a little Rattata. He quickly found an unlocked door in the garden.

“This place is so luxurious,” Zorua exclaimed in awe, glancing around. Compared to this, Heath’s place looked like a slum.

“Well, you don’t make the city’s rich list for nothing. Now, see if you can smell any blood,” Heath rolled his eyes. Evergreen City’s rich list wasn’t easy to get onto.

“Hmph, fine. Why are you rushing me?” Zorua sniffed the air, leading Heath to a closed door.

It wasn’t locked. Heath slipped inside easily—and there was the Charmander.

But compared to the morning, the Charmander’s condition had worsened. It was covered in wounds; its skin was bright red, as if scalded by boiling water.

Heath frowned. Clearly, Adams’ son hadn’t bothered to treat its injuries—this was outright abuse.

Just as Heath moved to rescue the Charmander, the door opened. A boy with a sullen face walked in.

Heath fell silent, quietly switching on his phone’s video recording.