After what felt like an eternity, Nakamura swaggered back into the room, waving the list David had written like it was a winning lottery ticket. His expression was a mixture of disbelief and grudging respect. "Well, kid," he said, slapping the paper down on the desk in front of David, "I gotta hand it to you. Thirteen names. All of them spot on."
David's eyes lit up. "Wait, really? I got them all?" He couldn't help but puff out his chest a little. "I mean, of course, I did. It's called being observant. Maybe you should take notes," he added with a smirk.
Nakamura rolled his eyes but didn't bother arguing. "Yeah, yeah, don't get too full of yourself. You nailed every single one. They're all down at the Pacific City Search Bureau right now." He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "Didn't think a high school kid would manage that. Thought for sure you were blowing smoke."
David grinned, leaning back in his chair like he'd just won the world's most ridiculous competition. "See? I'm basically a hero. Fighting crime, cleaning up the streets... I might even start charging for autographs. Should I sign one for you, Uncle Investigator?"
Nakamura's eye twitched. "First of all, don't call me that. Second, don't push it." He paused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "To be honest, the whole department didn't think much of your list at first. Thought it was just you trying to mess with us."
David gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Me? Mess with you? I would never!" He paused. "Okay, maybe sometimes. But not this time!"
Nakamura ignored him. "Anyway, since the case involved Pokémon smuggling, it got more serious real quick. Had to drag in every single one of those guys for questioning." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly, it's kind of a mess. We're not even equipped for this. We're supposed to handle Pokémon crimes, not... whatever this is."
David raised an eyebrow. "So, what, you've got a bunch of middle-aged guys crammed into cells meant for, like, a Machoke that robbed a PokéMart?"
"Pretty much," Nakamura sighed, glancing back through the window where several unlucky 'clients' were hunched over, squatting against the wall, hands over their heads like they were waiting for the world's slowest game of Simon Says to end. A few of them were muttering to themselves, clearly regretting their life choices. One particularly sweaty man looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, even in the mouth of a Gyarados.
The young investigator nearby scratched his head, looking at the lineup of miserable-looking men. "Uh, Captain Nakamura? What exactly are we supposed to do with them? We don't exactly have a 'creepy hair salon client' holding cell."
Nakamura looked back at him and shrugged. "Trial first. If they're clean, they walk. If not, we ship them off to the detention center." He grinned slightly. "And maybe throw in a little public embarrassment. Teach them to pick better barbershops."
David chuckled. "I'm telling you, Nakamura, I'm practically doing your job for you at this point."
Nakamura rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't get used to it, kid. You got lucky this time." He shook his head and headed back towards the door. "Try not to go busting up any more hair salons, alright? My paperwork's already piling up because of you."
David leaned back, hands behind his head, grinning ear to ear. "No promises."
Nakamura leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he replayed the events in his mind. What puzzled him the most wasn't just David's uncanny ability to disperse that whole group so quickly—it was how the kid remembered all their names. Not a single one slipped through the cracks.
And then there was that escape. The way David handled the professional Trainer, snatching Ralts and slipping out like it was some kind of Saturday morning cartoon heist. If it hadn't been for Ralts' Teleport, David wouldn't have stood a chance. Pikachu, who was currently sitting proudly on David's shoulder like he owned the place, looked more like a battery mascot than an actual battler. Nakamura squinted at it. "That thing barely sparks, right? You telling me it went toe-to-toe with an Arbok?"
David, who had just walked out of the interrogation room, looked over at him with a grin. "Oh, it didn't. I just sort of...you know, improvised." He made finger guns and pretended to shoot at imaginary enemies. Pikachu mimicked him, throwing out tiny sparks like it was putting on a light show.
Nakamura snorted. "Yeah, improvised. Right. That Arbok wasn't just some garden snake. That thing was practically a tank with fangs. If it wasn't injured from some shady fight beforehand, you'd be snake food by now." He tapped his clipboard. "That Arbok was on the brink of Gym Level, you know. One good bite and—" He mimed chomping his own hand off.
David blinked. "Huh. So you're saying my survival was basically a miracle." He turned to Pikachu and whispered loudly, "We gotta get stronger, man. Can't be relying on dumb luck and plot armor forever." Pikachu gave a confident "Pika!" like it totally understood.
At that moment, David's eyes wandered to the lineup of middle-aged men squatting on the floor, hands on their heads like they were about to get a stern talking-to from their mothers. He squinted. "Wait... I know these guys."
All of them had the same thought at that moment, "Wasn't he there with Crystal and having fun, why is this guy free while they are cuffed! "
Crystal and Trixie both looked aggrieved, specially Crystal. " This bastard! I even offered myself for free , and you get me arrested!"
One of the squatting men glanced up, his eyes widening with pure, unfiltered rage. "You!" he spat, nearly falling over as he tried to point while still crouched. "You ruined everything! Do you even know how hard it is to find a place like that?"
David scratched his head and pretended to think. "Hmm... Judging by the number of you here? Probably not that hard."
The guy fumed. Another one piped up, glaring daggers. "I had an appointment, kid! An appointment! And now I'm stuck here, squatting like I'm in gym class detention!"
David shrugged. "Hey, look on the bright side—you're getting exercise. You guys don't look like you do that too often."
The men glared harder, if that was even possible. David's system chimed in his head, the sweet sound of chaos:
[Obtained Negative Emotion Value +50...]
[Obtained Negative Emotion Value +50...]
[Obtained Negative Emotion Value +50...]
David's grin stretched wider. "Wow, I'm practically farming you guys. Maybe I should visit those shady places more often."
One of the guys looked like he was about to throw a shoe. "Kid, I swear if I ever see you outside—"
David waved him off. "Relax, Uncle. With your luck, you'll still be here by then."
Pikachu snickered on his shoulder, mimicking David's smug look. Nakamura just stood back, arms crossed, watching the whole thing unfold with a bemused grin. "You're really something, kid," he muttered.
David flashed him a peace sign. "What can I say? Some people fight crime with strength. I do it with a little charm...and, you know, maybe some lucky teleports."
David's grin stretched so wide it looked like it might just jump off his face. He could hear the sweet, satisfying ding ding ding of his system going off like a slot machine in his head. Negative Emotion Points just piling up. He rubbed his hands together, looking over the row of middle-aged men squatting in handcuffs.
"Oh-ho! Look who it is!" David pointed dramatically at one of the men with slicked-back hair and a mustache that was trying way too hard. "Isn't that the uncle who likes playing 'Alphabet Games' with the ladies'...uh...assets? I almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on this time!"
The man's face turned beet red, and a vein looked like it might just burst right out of his forehead. "Y-You little—!"
Ding! [Obtained Negative Emotion Value +50...]
David waved him off, turning his gaze to the next poor soul. His eyes lit up. "Oh, wait a minute... I remember you!" He squinted dramatically, scratching his chin. "Aren't you the one that ran down the street last month with your butt hanging out? Man, that thing was so shiny I thought you were a wild Grimer."
The guy's mouth dropped open, eyes wide with disbelief. "That was... I was... it was an accident!"
David leaned in like he was about to tell a secret. "Gotta ask, though... how do you keep it that white? Special lotion? Or is it just natural talent?"
Ding! [Obtained Negative Emotion Value +50...]
The guy spluttered, cheeks flaming, and David strolled along the lineup like he was inspecting his troops. His eyes landed on a particularly nervous-looking man with glasses, sweating bullets. David snapped his fingers. "Oh! Hey, hey, I know you! Wasn't she your cousin, Uncle?" He wagged his finger with mock disappointment. "You know that's, like, super illegal here, right? I mean, even in the wild, Rattatas don't do that kind of thing."
The man nearly keeled over, his eyes going wide as the rest of the guys slowly scooted away from him, whispering under their breaths. "I-I... it's not what it looks like!"
Ding! [Obtained Negative Emotion Value +50...]
David could practically feel the points rolling in. Sure, each one maxed out at 50, but there were so many of them that the number just kept climbing. He leaned back, hands behind his head, basking in the glory of free loot. "Ah, if only every day could be like this," he sighed dramatically. "I'd be rich in points by next Tuesday."
He was just about to launch into another round of 'Hey, I Know You!' when Nakamura finally stepped in, looking like he'd aged five years in the last five minutes. He grabbed David by the collar and yanked him back. "Alright, alright, that's enough," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you even doing out here, huh? I thought you were supposed to be inside filling out adoption forms!"
David blinked innocently. "Adoption forms? Oh, right! Yeah, I kinda...got distracted."
Nakamura rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples like he was regretting all his life choices. "Well, get back in there. Ralts picked you, so now you've got about a mountain of paperwork to do."
"Paperwork?" David's face fell. "I thought I just, you know, high-five Ralts and it's official."
Nakamura barked out a laugh. "Oh, I wish. No, you've got like ten different forms to sign. Background checks, Trainer agreements, some nonsense about 'psychic safety protocols.' You know, in case your new buddy decides to mind-wipe the neighborhood or something."
David slumped. "I'm starting to think being a good guy has way too much red tape."
Nakamura patted him on the back, shoving him back toward the room. "That's what you get for fighting crime in a hair salon, kid."
David groaned loudly, dragging his feet back to the room, Pikachu trailing behind. "Next time," he mumbled, "I'm just sticking to catching Caterpies."
The investigator handling David's adoption paperwork cleared his throat, glancing nervously at Nakamura. "Uh, Captain Nakamura... there's, uh, a bit of an issue," he began hesitantly.
Nakamura folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "An issue? What kind of issue?"
"Well, it seems... David here doesn't have a legal guardian," the investigator said, scratching his head awkwardly.
Nakamura's eyes darted over to David, who was busy poking Pikachu's cheeks like it was some kind of stress ball. "No guardian?" Nakamura repeated, blinking in disbelief. "How does that even—? Never mind. So, what happens now?"
The investigator sighed. "For adoption, the Alliance requires a guardian or guarantor. Someone who can cover the basic costs for the Pokémon—food, medical care, energy cubes... You know, the usual stuff. If he can't even afford basic supplies, then we can't approve the adoption."
Nakamura rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then looked at David. "Kid, do you have anyone close to you? Someone who can vouch for you?"
David's eyes flickered with what could only be described as pure mischief. He pretended to think hard, scratching his head like he was solving a math problem. "Hmm... well... there was Grandma Lin from the orphanage?"
Nakamura perked up. "Alright, great! Call her over."
David scratched his cheek, looking apologetic. "Oh, uh... she kinda passed away when I was in junior high."
Nakamura's expression deflated instantly. "...Right. Anyone else?"
David brightened up. "Oh! Grandpa Roger!"
"Perfect! Give him a call, then."
David shrugged. "He kinda went back to live with Grandma Peggy and have a child. They both, uh... passed away. From exhaustion."
Nakamura's eye twitched. "From exhaustion?"
David nodded solemnly. "Yeah, you know how it is... too much sex is harmful for health."
Nakamura took a deep breath, clearly counting to ten in his head. "Okay, fine. Anyone else?"
David tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Rhubarb!"
Nakamura blinked. "Rhubarb? Who the heck is Rhubarb?"
David beamed. "Oh, he was the dog at the orphanage when I was a kid! Loyal guy. Always stole my lunch, though."
Nakamura's face was now a mixture of disbelief and outright despair. "Are you seriously listing a dog as your guardian right now?"
David shrugged. "He was like family. But he also passed away... got hit by a bicycle. Tragic stuff."
Nakamura pinched the bridge of his nose so hard David thought he might break it. "Okay, let's try this again. Is there any human... who is still alive... that knows you?"
David pursed his lips, faking deep concentration. "There was Old Man Jenkins from across the street... but he moved to Florida and got eaten by gator. And then there was Miss Harper, but she ran off with the milkman. then her husband shot them both.
Oh! And there was Mr. Hargrove—wait, no, he got stuck in that elevator that one time... and well... you know, died."
Nakamura's eyes glazed over like he was experiencing spiritual defeat. After David listed more than ten names, each accompanied by a ridiculous story of demise, Nakamura just raised his hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright! I get it! You're... uh... extremely unlucky."
David grinned. "I prefer the term 'selectively tragic.'"
Nakamura turned to the investigator, his expression hollow. "He's... he's on his own, huh?"
The investigator just nodded.
David couldn't help the smirk spreading across his face. More than a few hundred Negative Emotion Points had just piled up from Nakamura alone. If he kept this up, he'd max out the system in no time.
Nakamura rubbed his temples. "You're like... some sort of human bad luck charm, you know that?"
David leaned back with a smug grin. "I like to think of it as 'adventure-prone.'"
Inspector Nakamura eyed David's file with the kind of disdain reserved for tax audits and cold oatmeal. "David, male, eighteen years old. Currently studying at Pacific City High School..." He muttered, flipping through the papers as if hoping a secret confession might be scribbled in the margins.
Sighing like a man on his third divorce, Inspector Nakamura pinched the bridge of his nose. "Typical dead pig not afraid of boiling water…" he mumbled, shaking his head. "Kid probably thinks this is a field trip."
He glanced back through the glass at David, who was currently trying to balance a chair on two legs while humming the Pokémon theme song off-key. Inspector Nakamura's eyebrow twitched. He was fairly certain David had just tried to tip his imaginary hat at him.
"Right. Time to call someone who can vouch for him." He yanked his phone out of his coat pocket, stabbing the keys with more force than necessary. A few seconds later, the dial tone buzzed in his ear.
Meanwhile, across town, Melissa was in the middle of a one-woman cooking show in her kitchen, narrating her every move to an imaginary audience. She poured a splash of olive oil into the pan. "And now, just a dash—whoops, okay, maybe a splash—of olive oil. Perfect." She nodded to herself approvingly.
Her phone buzzed loudly from the countertop, jolting her out of her culinary trance. The screen flashed with an unfamiliar number. She frowned, wiping her hands on a towel before picking up. "Hello? Who's this?" she asked, half expecting it to be a telemarketer trying to sell her extended car insurance for a car she didn't own.
"Good afternoon. Am I speaking with Melissa? David's homeroom teacher?" Inspector Nakamura's voice came through the line, gruff and businesslike, as if he was trying to sound important but mostly just sounded constipated.
Melissa blinked, her brow furrowing. "Yes… that's me. Who's asking?" Her mind was already running through a checklist of possible disasters. Had David set the science lab on fire? Again? Did he finally convince his classmates that Bulbasaur was just "a garlic toad with legs"?
"This is Inspector Nakamura from Pacific City Investigation Branch," he replied, voice still dipped in gravel. "We require your cooperation regarding a situation involving David. Could you come down to the station as soon as possible?"
Her heart leapt into her throat. She clutched the phone tighter, nearly dropping the spatula in her other hand. "The...the station? David? What did he do this time? Did he finally build that Pidgey catapult he kept talking about?"
Inspector Nakamura hesitated. "Er... no. Not quite. But it is... important. Pokémon-related."
The mention of Pokémon made her stomach twist. Her mind flashed back to that ridiculous conversation with David in her office, his face lit up with that grin that always preceded chaos. "I'm going into the wild to catch Weedle," he had declared like he was about to discover fire. She had waved him off, assuming he'd end up tangled in a bush or chased by a flock of Spearow, but now…
"Oh for crying out loud," she groaned, rubbing her temple. "I'll be right there. Try not to let him escape or... I don't know... start a musical number. He does that sometimes." Without waiting for a response, she hung up and hurried to the garage, still wearing her home clothes and mismatched slippers.
As she backed out of the driveway, she took a deep breath. "Okay, Melissa. It's just David. He probably tripped over his own feet and accidentally discovered a crime scene. Again."
And with that, she sped off towards the station, praying she wouldn't find him on top of a police cruiser declaring himself the new Chief of the Pacific City Police..