"You know it?" Stationmaster Hideki repeated, peering curiously first at Xiu, then at the tense Scyther. "This little guy's situation... do you know anything about it?"
Xiu sensed a deeper story beneath the Stationmaster's casual question. He opened his mouth to ask, but was cut off by an urgent call from across the crowded Rescue Station hall.
"Duty calls," the Stationmaster sighed, clapping Xiu on the shoulder again. "You handle this one, Xiu. Be careful." He hurried off towards the new emergency.
Xiu watched him go, his curiosity piqued but forced aside for the moment. He turned back to the Scyther. Gently, patiently, he guided it towards a quieter examination area, trying to assist the professional veterinary staff with the assessment and treatment.
It was slow, painstaking work. Scyther remained deeply distrustful of strangers, flinching violently at any sudden movement or attempt at direct contact by the vets. Even with Xiu constantly murmuring reassurances, trying to keep it calm, it remained coiled tight, scythes held defensively. More than once, Xiu had to physically intercept a warning swipe aimed at a well-meaning nurse. 'If I weren't here...' He thought grimly, it definitely would have sliced someone by now.
"Worst temper I've seen in a while," one of the exasperated staff members muttered, carefully backing away after a failed attempt to apply antiseptic. "Who'd ever want to be its Trainer? Good luck to them." The staff member gave up, leaving Xiu to manage the final stages of treatment himself.
Thankfully, Scyther's physical injuries weren't critical – mostly cuts, bruises, and exhaustion. Xiu, having spent considerable time assisting at the Station recently, felt competent enough to handle the basic cleaning and bandaging, though it took immense patience to work around Scyther's hyper-vigilance. He noticed how acutely sensitive it was to its surroundings; every loud noise, every sudden movement in the chaotic environment, sent it into a defensive posture. 'This place... like a refugee camp... it's too much for it.' Calming down here was impossible.
Once the immediate injuries were addressed, Xiu decided the best course was to get Scyther out of the stressful environment. He carefully guided it back outside, towards a quieter, wooded section of the park grounds adjacent to the Station, hoping the familiar forest setting would help it recover more naturally. He watched it disappear among the trees, then turned back towards the lingering chaos of the station, a deep weariness settling over him.
— — —
Later that evening, Xiu sat on the edge of a narrow cot in a sparse, utilitarian room, counting the small stack of Poké Dollar bills in his hand. His neck ached fiercely. Another full day of intense physical and emotional labor at the Rescue Station, immediately following the sleepless, terrifying night of the storm and invasion. He felt hollowed out, running on fumes. 'This is killing me.'
But the money... the tangible result of his efforts... provided a small, necessary anchor of security.
His cabin, predictably, had been deemed structurally unsound after the Dodrio attack. He was temporarily housed in the park's basic staff dormitory, sharing a cramped room with several security guards.
His current cot, he'd learned through casual conversation, had belonged to one of the guards who hadn't survived the night of the invasion. One of only three confirmed park staff fatalities during the incident. The cause of death, bizarrely, was attributed to a sneak attack – bitten on the neck by a seemingly ordinary Rattata that had darted out during the chaos, severing an artery. Bled out before help could arrive.
Listening to the guards recount their own harrowing experiences from that night – descriptions of fierce battles, glimpses of powerful, unknown Pokémon wielded by the masked intruders, the sheer scale of the coordinated assault – put the Rattata incident into a strange, almost darkly comedic perspective. An organized attack force, capable of taking on park security and powerful Pokémon, and one of the few casualties was due to a Rattata bite? 'If this were a novel, Xiu thought grimly, I'd laugh at the absurdity.' But having witnessed the chaos firsthand, having felt the very real threat... he couldn't find any humor in it. This wasn't a game. This was a world where even the smallest creatures could be deadly, where violence lurked beneath the surface. 'The real Pokémon world, he reminded himself soberly. Not the sanitized version for children.'
He spent the next two days continuing his routine: working tirelessly at the still-overwhelmed Rescue Station, his practical skills growing with each minor injury he helped treat under supervision. During the day, he absorbed information, listened to conversations, pieced together more fragments about the invasion and its aftermath. At night, he found deserted corners in the dormitory building, studying his breeder's manual by the harsh fluorescent light of the corridor, finding the consistent illumination a small comfort compared to the unreliable solar lamp of his destroyed cabin. 'Better light, at least.'
— — —
Three days passed quickly since the storm. The park officially remained closed, citing "storm damage repairs and reconstruction," but the scars from the invasion lingered. Reopening felt distant.
Ding!
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. Xiu checked the illuminated floor number above the door, took a breath, and stepped out.
He was on the top floor of the park's main administrative tower. The executive level. Director Bao Ba's office suite.
He walked down the brightly lit, carpeted corridor, ignoring the numbered doors on either side, his footsteps muffled. He stopped before the large, imposing double doors at the very end of the hallway. The Director's office.
He knocked respectfully, a firm but not aggressive sound, then stood back, waiting quietly, hands clasped loosely behind his back.
After a moment, one of the doors opened. A woman in the crisp, iconic uniform of Officer Jenny stepped out. Her expression held a hint of professional annoyance, likely from whatever meeting she'd just concluded. But strangely, upon seeing Xiu waiting there, her expression softened into a faint, almost surprised smile. Xiu, caught off guard, could only offer a polite, slightly awkward nod in return. She gave him another brief, unreadable glance before walking briskly past him towards the elevator. 'Odd.'
"Come in," a deep, resonant voice called from within the office. Bao Ba's voice.
Xiu straightened his borrowed, slightly-too-large uniform jacket, took another steadying breath, and pushed the door open, stepping inside with as much confidence as he could muster.
The office itself was… surprisingly normal. Tasteful, professional decoration, standard executive size, meticulously tidy. No ostentatious displays of wealth or power. But Xiu wasn't here to admire the decor. He walked directly towards the large desk dominating the room, stopping a respectful distance away.
"Mr. Baoba, sir. You asked to see me?" he said carefully, keeping his gaze slightly lowered, adopting the posture of a subordinate awaiting instructions.
"Ah, Xiu. Come, sit down." Bao Ba stood up from behind the desk – shorter than Xiu remembered, but stocky, exuding an air of contained power. He gestured towards a pair of comfortable armchairs near the window, bypassing the desk entirely. He sat in one, motioning for Xiu to take the other. "Relax," Bao Ba said, flashing a brief glimpse of gold teeth as he smiled. "No need to be so formal. Just a casual chat."
The 'chat' began innocuously enough. Bao Ba asked about his work, his temporary living situation, how he was coping after the 'storm incident'. He then steered the conversation towards Xiu's past, probing gently about his time before the park, even touching upon the sparse details Xiu had provided about the orphanage. Xiu answered carefully, vaguely, unsure of the Director's angle, revealing little.
After several minutes of this meandering conversation, Bao Ba leaned forward slightly, his casual demeanor shifting subtly.
"Tell me, Xiu," he said, his voice dropping a notch. "Do you know of a Pokémon called Dragonair?"
Alertness spiked through Xiu instantly. 'Here it is. All the small talk, the feigned concern… it was all leading to this.'
"Dragonair? Yes, sir," Xiu replied, keeping his expression neutral, meeting Bao Ba's gaze steadily. "The evolution of Dratini. I… I believe I saw one. During the storm, three nights ago." He kept his tone factual, devoid of the awe or excitement he'd actually felt.
"You didn't just see one, did you, Xiu?" Bao Ba's tone was different now, the earlier warmth gone, replaced by something sharp, probing. "My reports suggest you were instrumental in its rescue. Tell me about that. How did you save the Dragonair?"
Xiu recounted the story, sticking closely to the version he'd rehearsed in his head – the 'coincidental' encounter with the Kangaskhan during the attack, being 'protected' by it during the escape, witnessing the battle between Dragonair and the masked poacher, the Kangaskhan's intervention. He emphasized the Kangaskhan's role, downplaying his own presence to that of a terrified bystander who happened to be nearby. He omitted the details of his own actions, the ambushes, the confiscated gear.
When he finished, Bao Ba sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Incredible luck, finding yourself in the middle of all that." He regarded Xiu thoughtfully for a long moment, his eyes sharp, analytical. "You don't need to be so modest, Xiu. Saving that Dragonair, especially from that particular individual… it's a significant accomplishment, a great service to the park."
"It was all the Kangaskhan, sir," Xiu insisted firmly, maintaining his facade of humility, deflecting the credit once more. "I was just… there."
A flicker of annoyance crossed Bao Ba's face. His expression hardened. "Do you take me for a fool, boy?"
Facing the Director's displeasure, Xiu didn't flinch. Instead, he met Bao Ba's gaze directly and posed a slow, deliberate question.
"Director, let me ask you something. If the Kangaskhan hadn't been there… if it hadn't intervened when it did… do you honestly believe I could have saved the Dragonair? Could I have stopped that poacher and his Gyarados?"
Bao Ba stared at him, the tension in his face slowly dissolving, replaced by a flicker of surprise, then grudging understanding, and finally, another flash of that golden grin. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest.
He knew Xiu was deflecting, twisting the narrative, but he seemed to appreciate the audacity, the cleverness of the response. "Sharp," Bao Ba conceded, leaning back again. "Very sharp." He paused, then asked, genuine curiosity in his voice now, "But still… why did you do it? You saw that poacher, saw his Gyarados. You knew the power you were facing. Even I wouldn't underestimate that particular hunter lightly. What gave you the courage?"
Xiu internally sighed. 'So he knows.' Bao Ba clearly had more information than he was letting on. Had the Kangaskhan somehow communicated the events? Had the Dragonair itself reported back? Or was it the traitor…?