Pris's usual approach — leaning in close, voice low and smooth — had never failed him with women before. It failed spectacularly with Jenny. She didn't find it flattering or unsettling in the way he intended. She found it revolting.
"What. Are. You. Saying."
Each word landed like a separate accusation. She shoved him — both hands, full force — and Pris stumbled backward across the room, barely catching himself against Director's desk.
"Pris!" Jenny's voice filled the office. "What exactly did you mean by 'what if something is found'? Have you forgotten what it means to be a Security Officer? Is this what they taught you at the Academy — to sweep things under the rug and call it a day? Is that why you're here at the General Bureau?"
But her fury didn't change anything. The case had already been closed. As that reality settled in — as she watched Pris straighten his collar with a mild expression and Director study his desk with practiced patience, neither of them showing even a flicker of guilt — Jenny felt the anger drain out of her.
You get angry at people you think can still be reached. People you believe shouldn't be acting this way, people you think still have something worth appealing to. But when you understand that there's nothing left to appeal to, the anger loses its footing. It has nowhere to land.
Because they weren't colleagues who had made a mistake. They were the opposition.
Jenny had nothing left to say to either of them. What she did quietly decide, walking out of that office, was that the next time she crossed paths with Pris, she wouldn't waste words.
Pris watched her go. Something cold flickered behind his eyes — just for a moment — before his expression settled back into the easy, polished smile of someone who had never been genuinely troubled by anything in his life. He turned to Director and shook his head with a soft laugh.
"Would you look at that? I speak up to smooth things over and she turns on me for it."
Director's expression was sour, though he managed to arrange it into something more measured. "Don't take it to heart, Director Pris. Officer Jenny has always been like that. The front-line officers have had a brutal stretch, and this operation cost them badly. Some of that frustration was going to land on us regardless — that's fair enough."
"I just can't stand it," Pris said. "She doesn't appreciate what you're doing, Director. She treats goodwill like an open target."
Director gave a tired smile. "You see it clearly enough. But what can I do? If a full investigation turns up something serious, I'm the one who bears the consequences. Deputy Director is already being looked at in connection with all of this. If I keep pushing — what, am I supposed to bring down the Director-General himself?"
To Jenny, retreating down the corridor, this was exactly what it sounded like: the well-rehearsed excuses of people who had decided long ago that their own positions mattered more than the work.
There was a mole somewhere inside the General Bureau. Rank didn't protect anyone from that fact, and neither did inconvenience. You couldn't leave a wound like that untreated simply because treating it might implicate people further up the chain. Team Origin had found a way inside, and if it wasn't cut out, the rot would keep spreading — quietly, steadily, until there was nothing sound left.
That was the line between Jenny and people like them.
For some, it came down to a simple calculation: as long as their own position stayed stable, everything else could be managed. When something went wrong, the first move was to silence it. If that failed, to look away. And if that failed too, to simply pretend not to hear.
Director and Pris were well into the third stage. They understood perfectly what Jenny was saying. They were choosing not to.
In that moment, Jenny found herself thinking, unexpectedly, of Nova.
He didn't have to deal with any of this.
Nova, for his part, was in the air.
After Aresdra decided to adopt the Psyduck, Nova had taken her back to the Thousand Lakes Gym in River Delta City to complete the official paperwork. Kim, having heard that Nova had a girlfriend, had apparently been curious enough that she wanted to see for herself what kind of person she was.
When Aresdra walked through the door, Kim stared.
If Aresdra hadn't already had plans — specifically, heading to Purple Gold City to audition for the Official Alliance's idol group — Kim would have had a contract drawn up on the spot. She would have offered Aresdra a position as the featured performer in the Thousand Lakes Gym's aquatic showcase without a second thought.
The purchase contract for Psyduck still needed to be handled, since Nova had technically been the one negotiating with the Gym. Kim set the price at the absolute minimum permitted under Alliance regulations: one league coin. Ownership transferred to Aresdra on the spot.
That one league coin didn't go unrewarded. Kim sent them off with a substantial supply of Psyduck's usual feed, along with a selection of items suited to Water-type Pokémon and materials known to support Psychic development. The total value, conservatively estimated, was somewhere above twenty thousand Poké Dollars.
It was clear that whatever complicated feelings Kim carried about Psyduck, some part of her still cared about where it ended up.
With Psyduck's Damp ability now standing between Aresdra and anyone who thought an explosive strategy was a clever idea, Nova could stop worrying about Robbin every time Aresdra was out of his sight.
The timing put them in early June. Nova got Aresdra settled in Purple Gold City, renting a small apartment near the Media Center at a price that made him briefly reconsider his financial habits. The capital of the Norlandia Alliance was not cheap. But the audition period was only a month, and Nova had no real doubt about the outcome. Once the group was formed, the Alliance would cover the members' day-to-day needs — which meant one month of rent was the full extent of the expense. He could manage that.
He knew Jenny was in Purple Gold City as well, but he had no intention of seeking her out. Under the current circumstances, even allies were better off keeping their distance.
Nova spent two days wandering the city with Aresdra — sightseeing, eating well, enjoying the rare stretch of time without anything pressing — and then climbed onto Pidgeot and turned south.
After everything, Nova finally came home to Goldenlight City.
The welcome waiting for him was enthusiastic, in its own way. Word had apparently gotten around. A crowd of Trainers had assembled at the Airport, and from what Nova could see from the air, they had come prepared — rotten produce, spoiled food, and expressions that suggested they had been looking forward to this for some time.
Nova decided not to use the main entrance.
He took Pidgeot in a wide arc around the city and came down quietly at Purple Lychee Mountain instead, where Max from the Luma Gym was already waiting. What should have been a routine handoff ended up feeling more like a covert operation.
Max was the same as always — cheerful, broad-shouldered, the kind of person whose good mood seemed to take up physical space. He shook Nova's hand firmly and clicked his tongue.
"What terrible timing! Thelma was just talking about you not long ago — and then you come back the moment she has to leave town on business! You two keep missing each other."
Nova kept his expression neutral.
Yes, he thought. Terrible timing. She's been making her feelings about that very clear.