As he wandered the street in search of food, Caleb did some self-reflection and realized—he really hadn't done anything wrong.
Lately, he'd been wondering if the issues with his Pokémon were due to his own poor training methods.
Logically, Pokémon are supposed to start resembling their Trainers more and more. So why hadn't any of his picked up on his good traits?
Take Pachirisu for example. Tiny as it looked, it already had enough strength to arm wrestle a Snorlax.
Once, it stood on his shoulder and nearly crushed his bones.
It wasn't that he couldn't afford to feed it—but seriously, what kind of Pachirisu puts away food five pounds at a time?
Getting up at night to pee and hearing rustling from the fridge, he honestly thought there was a burglar in the house.
And Chansey—back in school, she was always top of her class at the Nurse Chansey Academy.
Guess that proves she did inherit his smarts.
But somewhere along the line… her skill points seemed to have gone wildly off-course.
Always volunteering as a punching bag, or gloves for sparring practice.
And her hobbies—don't even get him started…
"Gua~sī (/≧▽≦/)"
"What are you laughing at, you little creep?" Caleb scolded the floating Haunter. "Don't think I didn't see your search history. 'Diantha photo shoots,' 'Diantha beach set,' 'Things humans and ghosts shouldn't do but do anyway'…"
Haunter's laugh died instantly, panic flooding his face.
He flailed his little hands around in a frenzy, trying to stop Caleb from saying any more.
Please stop! Not out here! People can hear!
"Meow~"
Hahahaha!
"And you!" Caleb turned to Litten. "What're you laughing at? I haven't even started with you yet. Walking around sucking on catnip lollipops all day like that—what kind of image is that supposed to give off?"
"A one-month-old kitten should act like a one-month-old kitten! From now on, you only get one lollipop a week!"
Litten: ( ?_? )
Caleb lectured the Litten in his arms and the Haunter floating beside him as he walked.
Now that he thought about it, the street seemed oddly quiet today. Did he come too early? Not a soul in sight?
His gaze scanned the area. Aside from a single massive moving truck parked by the curb and two workers standing beside it, the whole street was practically deserted.
The side of the truck bore a huge logo—Machamp Moving Company.
Not just famous in Sinnoh, but a world-renowned brand, on par with big civic names like Pelipper Fresh and Delibird Express.
Working on a weekend, too. Tough gig.
"Thanks for your hard work," Caleb greeted the two workers—a tall skinny guy and a rounder one—as he passed.
"Awoo~"
A faint voice came from within the truck. So faint, you wouldn't hear it unless you were really paying attention.
But thanks to his power from the Everstone, Caleb's built-in translation let him catch the message loud and clear.
Help me!
A cry for help!
The two workers smiled at him as if nothing was wrong, but Caleb's expression shifted.
"What's in the truck?" he asked.
The skinnier worker froze for a beat, then forced a chuckle and replied, "Oh, you know, just furniture. The usual."
"Furniture?" Caleb pressed. "Just the two of you handling it? Where's the Machamp? Doesn't Machamp Moving usually send out actual Machamp to help?"
"Sick," said the skinny one.
"Broke his leg," the round one added quickly.
The two exchanged a glance—nervous.
The skinny one tried to explain, "Yeah, so the Machamp got sick… and while he was sick, he broke his leg…"
"Right, right. He's in the Pokémon Center now," the round one chimed in.
To them, it sounded foolproof. But Caleb wasn't buying it.
He wasn't stupid. If it were just furniture, why were they sweating so hard?
His gut told him these two were poachers.
Officer Jenny had been posting warnings in the community chat lately, reminding people to stay alert—poachers were getting bold.
If these two really were poachers, there was no way Caleb was letting this slide.
"Let me see inside!"
His sudden bark made the two jump, visibly flinching.
After all, in an argument, whoever yells loudest usually wins.
"No way," the fat one said weakly. "That stuff's expensive. If it gets damaged—"
Classic dodge. Clearly hiding something.
Caleb didn't waste any more time.
"If anything breaks, I'll take responsibility," he said, already reaching for the truck's latch.
Ka-chzzzz—
The truck door creaked open with an ear-piercing screech, revealing a narrow slit. A sliver of light slipped inside, just barely illuminating the dark interior.
Inside, the cramped space was packed with wooden furniture—stools, chairs, beds… no metal cages, no ominous black cloth, nothing like he expected.
"See? Told you—just furniture. High-end stuff," said the fat one, sounding smug.
But Caleb didn't let his guard down.
He stepped into the truck, eyes scanning the furniture—until something stood out.
A ball?
A soccer ball?
But it was… furry?
It looked like a little fluffy creature curled into a ball.
Curious, Caleb reached out and gently picked it up. The moment his fingers touched it, a strange sensation prickled through him.
It was… sticky. Like it had been drenched in glue.
Sensing it was being lifted, the little ball started to tremble and squirm violently, trying desperately to break free.
"Awoo~"
"Awoo~"
A Pokémon!
So it was true—those two were poachers.
They must've used glue to bind the Pokémon together to keep it from escaping. That way, even if Officer Jenny did a surprise inspection, they'd fly under the radar.
No cages, no cloth. These poachers were getting sneakier.
Just as Caleb turned around, his eyes locked with the skinny poacher—who suddenly raised a baseball bat from who-knows-where and charged at him, yelling:
"Die!"
Oh come on, not again!
Wait… why did I say again?