Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

”Please stop, young Trainer. I’m Officer Jenny of this city. Show me your identification.”

Reiji’s legs were no match for a motorcycle. Before he could even walk out of the hotel perimeter, Officer Jenny cut him off.

The only smart move now was to obediently hand over his ID. Running was out of the question.

She’d clearly asked for his ID—that meant she’d noticed him. If he ran, that would instantly confirm her suspicions: guilty conscience, prior record, suspect.

Why would an innocent citizen run? Why flee if you’ve done nothing wrong?

Officer Jenny was only performing a routine check. If someone couldn’t even comply with that, then there was definitely something fishy.

”Umihara Reiji?” Officer Jenny read the name off his ID. She glanced at his appearance—black hoodie and black pants, a Spinarak on his shoulder, a Poliwhirl following behind.

As she examined him, the image of a hooded man flashed through her mind—the mugger who had robbed several kids in recent days. The resemblance was at least 70–80%.

She began to suspect that this boy might be the same mugger. The only difference: the attacker hadn’t been seen with a Poliwhirl. But it wasn’t unusual for Trainers to have multiple Pokémon.

She couldn’t arrest the wrong person—but she also couldn’t let a real criminal walk free.

”Young Trainer, lift your head so I can see your face.”

Reiji clenched his jaw and slowly looked up, meeting her eyes for just a few seconds before looking away.

That very hesitation only deepened her suspicions.

”Why won’t you look at me?” she pressed.

People with something to hide rarely look officers in the eye—basic psychology.

”Uh…” Reiji froze. A wrong answer here and he’d be hauled off. He had to think fast. ”Because you’re really pretty…”

”What? Are you flirting with an officer?” She frowned, thinking he was trying to dodge the question.

Reiji grumbled inwardly. What’s wrong with her?

Then, out loud, he corrected her calmly. ”Officer Jenny, I’m shy. I have social anxiety. I don’t like making eye contact with beautiful women.”

”Which word, tone, or phrase exactly made you think I was being disrespectful?”

”Ahem.” She looked away, caught off guard. His explanation had thrown her off, and she masked her flustered reaction with a cough.

”Young Trainer, I apologize. There’s been a string of street robberies by a man in black lately. If my questions troubled you, that’s my mistake. Once I verify your ID, you’ll be free to go.”

She bowed slightly, then stepped aside to call headquarters and check Reiji’s ID number.

They had come across many fakes before—IDs that weren’t even in the system, names that didn’t exist.

Standard protocol.

”Jenny, that ID number was added to the system just yesterday. It’s registered to the orphanage in Westside’s Walking Grass area. There’s no Trainer registration on file. No background records either—just one admission log from ten years ago.”

”Got it,” she said, hanging up.

Now serious, her expression turned cold as she reevaluated Reiji. The gaps in his records were too big to ignore.

Just registered yesterday. An orphanage address. No Trainer profile. Only one ancient record. Everything else: blank.

”Young Trainer,” she said sharply, ”why don’t you have a Trainer registration?”

Reiji’s mind scrambled. Her questions came like arrows, each one aimed straight at the heart.

”You’re from the Westside orphanage, correct? You should know that Pokémon not registered through a Center cannot legally be brought into public.”

”I… I know,” Reiji replied softly. But he finally thought of an angle.

”If you know, why haven’t you registered your Pokémon, and why are you carrying it in public?”

”I don’t have money. I didn’t dare go to the Center… I was afraid people would laugh at me. If they did, I might snap and hit someone… and then I’d have to pay damages. But I have no money.”

He kept his head low as he spoke, his voice trembling.

Tears welled up as he clenched his fists. His shoulders shuddered. His act was flawless—pure pity bait.

The ”orphan background” plus the reminder that the Center was a den of profiteering… a perfectly engineered excuse. It even fit with his ”shy and reclusive” persona.

”…I…” Officer Jenny faltered. She was at a loss for words.

The kid’s emotions clearly weren’t stable—he was crying.

An orphan. No parents. No support. Clinging to a single Pokémon for survival in a cold, harsh city. And here she was, grilling him like some villain.

She suddenly felt like a monster.

What makes me any different from the bullies who mocked him?

Seeing her hesitate, Reiji knew he’d struck home. Women were easier to influence when led by emotion. With a tragic backstory in place, their defenses dropped easily—especially women like Officer Jenny: righteous, kind, and soft-hearted.

Sniff. Officer Jenny wiped her nose, tears brimming.

This poor child had survived so much. Finding a Pokémon partner must’ve meant the world to him. And she—she had hurt him.

Unforgivable.

Still, her job required her to ask more questions. But now her tone softened, careful not to trigger more trauma.

”Reiji… may I call you that? Your ID was just created yesterday. Why only now, when you’ve been in the orphanage for ten years?”

”I’m leaving this city,” Reiji replied solemnly. ”I want to make lots of money. I’ll send it back to the orphanage, buy clothes for the other kids…”

”I want to become a strong Trainer, be their role model. Show them that even orphans can succeed.”

”We’re not lesser than anyone else. We can fight on the same battlefield, command our own Pokémon to victory.”

”Those who mock us now… one day, they’ll be the ones watching from below.”

”Enough, Reiji… I understand,” Officer Jenny turned away, overwhelmed. She wiped away tears with tissues pulled hastily from her pocket.

Reiji accepted his returned ID, sneaking a glance at her face—red-eyed, wiping constantly. He thanked her sincerely. ”Thank you. I’ll be on my way…”

”Go on, go,” she said, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.

Such a well-mannered boy couldn’t be a criminal, she thought. No way.

Reiji lowered his head, wiping fake tears, walking slowly past her. Can’t break character now, he reminded himself.

Plenty of villains mess up at the finish line. Not him. He’d seen too many shows for that.

”Wait, Reiji…”

He froze, body tensing—then relaxed, turning around. ”Yes, Officer Jenny?”

There was no way she’d seen through him. He’d left no traces.

”Only Pokémon registered at the Center can be carried in public. If you’re leaving town, you need to register first.”

”I understand. Thank you for the reminder. I’ll head there now.” He bowed respectfully.

If anyone had looked into his eyes at that moment, they would’ve seen nothing but purity.

He turned and called to his partner, ”Poliwhirl, let’s go to the Pokémon Center first.”

”Yobo, yobo.” Poliwhirl bumped its fists together. Reiji had acted strangely just now… but it was still Reiji.

No matter what Reiji became, it would always be his Pokémon.

Officer Jenny watched them go. Such a bond—they must be deeply connected, like her and Growlithe.

”This kid… he’s so gentle, right, Growlithe?”

”Woof! Woof!” Growlithe wagged its tail in agreement.

But Officer Jenny didn’t realize…

She had just let the ”shy, earnest, hardworking, sensitive, gentle good boy” walk away…

And that ”good boy” had, in fact, been the mugger all along.

No, she didn’t let him go—he fooled her, right under her nose.

Which meant one thing: he was cunning. Ruthless. A master manipulator. He exploited emotions to turn a dangerous confrontation into a miraculous escape.

And now he knew something critical: the fake ID was officially in the system. His records went back to age five.

The old man at the bar hadn’t lied. This ID was real now—as real as any. All he had to do was cement the identity.

To do that, he needed to go to the orphanage on the ID and get the headmaster to recognize him. If the orphanage director could vouch for him, the whole lie would become truth.

He now understood the message on the paper. The old man’s advice hadn’t been random—it had been guidance. Part of the plan.

But even without it, Reiji had always intended to visit the orphanage.

He’d already claimed it as his background. There was no backing out now.

Before that, though, it was time to register as a Trainer at the Pokémon Center.

Not a League-certified Trainer—just an unlicensed one.

Somewhere between wild Trainer and certified rookie.

Still enough to take on basic Center missions…

[End of Chapter]

[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]

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