William sat on the cold, metal bench, staring at the floor of the Jenny Station's holding cell.
His bruised face still stung from Elliot's punch, but that was the least of his problems.
He wasn't alone in the cell—a couple of street thugs, and even a Team Rocket grunt were thrown in with him earlier, and they were eyeing him like fresh meat.
But the worst part?
He knew why he was here.
Not for losing a battle. Not for being humiliated.
For Pokémon abuse.
He gritted his teeth. "This is a joke… I didn't do anything that bad."
The door to the station slammed open.
A man in a tailored suit stormed in, his expensive shoes clacking against the floor. His slicked-back hair barely moved as he adjusted his gold wristwatch, eyes flashing with annoyance and arrogance.
Mark Calloway—William's father.
A powerful Kanto delegate with deep pockets and deeper connections.
And he wasn't happy.
Mark stepped up to the front desk, barely sparing the officer a glance.
"I want my son released. Now."
Officer Jenny, standing tall with her arms crossed, didn't even blink.
"No."
Mark's eye twitched. "Excuse me?"
"I said no," the Head Jenny of the station repeated, stepping forward. She was older, her long blue hair slightly grayed at the edges, but her steel gaze showed she wasn't someone to mess with.
"You're detaining my son over some ridiculous accusations," Mark scoffed. "He's done nothing wrong. I expect him released immediately."
Instead of responding, Head Jenny grabbed a thick folder from her desk and tossed it onto the counter. Papers spilled out, and Mark's face paled as he saw the contents.
A document showing the illegal acquisition of Charmander. Mark's "gift" to his son had come from a black market poaching ring. Charmeleon's health records from the Pokémon Center. Even after evolving, it showed years of malnutrition and mistreatment. A list of Mark's, and William's illegal activities. Bribing officials, illegal Pokémon fights, and more.
"This," Head Jenny said, tapping the documents, "is why your son is here., and why you're about to join him."
Mark clenched his fists. "You have no proof I had anything to do with—"
"Oh?" Jenny smirked. She flipped to the next page.
It was a bank statement.
With Mark's signature approving a direct payment to the poachers.
The color drained from his face.
"That's forged!" he snapped.
Jenny rolled her eyes. "Arcanine."
A massive Arcanine leaped over the desk, landing between them with a deep growl. Its fur bristled, eyes locked onto Mark like prey.
Mark took a step back—then ran.
Big mistake.
"Extreme Speed."
Before he could even get halfway to the door, Arcanine tackled him, slamming him into the ground with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.
The entire station went silent as the rich politician groaned in pain.
Head Jenny walked over, crouching down. She smirked.
"Running? That's an admission of guilt in my book."
Mark tried to move—Arcanine growled.
He froze.
The station doors opened again, and Elliot walked in.
Soaked from the rain. Still pissed off.
He took one look at Mark on the floor—then grinned.
And kicked him.
Right in the ribs.
"Ghh—!" Mark coughed, glaring up at Elliot. "You little—"
Another kick.
Jenny smirked. "I didn't see anything."
Neither did her officers.
Mark groaned, completely humiliated.
Elliot dusted off his hands. "That was for Charmeleon."