Chapter 174: The Wounded Thief
Xiaoyuan stared at Xiu, momentarily silenced by his decisive shift back to business. Seeing his calm focus return seemed to steady her as well.
"Alright," she said, taking a deep breath, ready for instructions.
Xiu nodded. "Pichu might seem like a simple Pokémon," he began, launching directly into a condensed lecture, "but understanding its potential requires knowing its lineage, its evolutionary path, its specific dietary needs, and its electrical energy regulation."
He proceeded to rattle off key details about the Pichu-Pikachu-Raichu line – typical abilities, common training pitfalls, nutritional requirements for optimal electrical sac development, strategies for managing energy discharge... He didn't pause to check her comprehension, simply delivering the information concisely and efficiently.
Xiaoyuan, initially caught off guard by the sudden shift to Pokémon husbandry, quickly grabbed a notepad and began scribbling furiously, forcing her mind to absorb the barrage of technical details. The sheer density of information effectively crowded out her lingering anxieties about the larger situation.
After several minutes, Xiu abruptly stopped. "Okay, that's enough for today."
Xiaoyuan let out an audible sigh of relief, her hand cramping from writing. "My brain feels full," she complained, flexing her fingers. "And honestly, I'm not planning on becoming a frontline Trainer. Is all this really necessary?"
"Pichu's well-being is necessary," Xiu countered firmly. "And having a capable Pokémon partner offers a layer of protection you currently lack. In this world, relying solely on human defenses is... unwise."
Xiaoyuan didn't argue further, though a weary look settled back onto her features.
"Get some sleep," Xiu instructed, his tone softening slightly. "Tonight might be chaotic out there, but this place should remain secure for now. Don't leave the building. Use the secure terminal for any necessary communication. I'll be back for you tomorrow morning."
He stood up, preparing to leave. "Where are you going now?" Xiaoyuan asked, a hint of worry returning.
"The warehouse," Xiu replied, already heading for the door. "The temporary one Kurokawa secured. It's the lynchpin for our Viridian operation. With everything escalating, I need to ensure its security personally."
Xiaoyuan looked like she wanted to argue, perhaps offer to come along, but understood the necessity. She simply nodded, watching silently as he closed the door behind him.
Left alone, she slumped forward onto the desk, resting her head on her arms. Pichu, sensing her mood, hopped onto the desk and nudged her gently. Xiaoyuan turned her head slightly, looking at the small Pokémon, and murmured softly, "Are we falling behind again, little one? Always trying to catch up..."
Xiu didn't leave the Pokémon Center immediately. He spent a few minutes discreetly conversing with some of the late-shift staff members he recognized, gathering snippets of information under the guise of casual chat.
The picture painted was grim. Incidents hadn't been limited to the museum, arena, and granary. Reports were filtering in of targeted disruptions at the train station, minor sabotage at power substations, and coordinated disturbances in several market districts. The Pokémon Center staff were stretched thin, mobilized to handle injuries, provide shelter, and coordinate with overwhelmed emergency services.
Leaving the Center, Xiu's earlier calculated calm was replaced by genuine, sharp concern. The scale and coordination of Team Rocket's actions seemed... greater than he'd anticipated. More widespread. Or perhaps, a more chilling thought occurred,
Did I overestimate Viridian City's official defenses. Had complacency set in after years of 'managing' Team Rocket?
This is escalating too quickly. Team Rocket had achieved significant disruption already, and the night was still young. Where are the police reinforcements? Where's the decisive counter-action?
Logically, the authorities should have reacted strongly after the granary attack. Yet, the response seemed scattered, primarily led by Head Nurse Joy rather than a unified official force. Something is wrong. He couldn't shake the feeling that a critical piece of the puzzle was missing.
Pushing aside his rising unease, Xiu focused on his immediate priority: reaching the warehouse. He moved through the streets, which were now eerily quiet. The festival atmosphere had completely evaporated. The few people still out hurried along nervously, sticking to well-lit areas. The vibrant vendor stalls from the previous night were gone, packed up or abandoned.
He avoided the main roads, sticking to darker side streets and alleys, moving quickly and silently. As he navigated a particularly narrow, deserted alley, his senses, honed by instinct and Abra's subtle psychic alerts, detected something – faint footsteps behind him, trying too hard to be silent. I'm being followed? Hm...
He didn't react immediately, maintaining his steady pace. His mind raced. Is it a Team Rocket grunt? Sent to gather intel on Oak's 'assistant'? Or something else? He decided to draw them out.
He continued walking, then abruptly ducked into an even darker side passage, pressing himself flat against a wall just around the corner. He held his breath, listening. A few seconds later, the footsteps followed, entering the passage.
As the figure passed his concealed position, Xiu moved with blinding speed. One hand shot out, clamping over the pursuer's mouth and neck, cutting off any cry. Simultaneously, the edge of his other hand pressed firmly against their lower back – not a weapon, but a precise pressure point. Control established in less than a second. He leaned close to the captured individual's ear, his voice a low whisper in the darkness. "Who are you? Why are you following me?"
Instead of struggling or trying to answer, the figure under his grip simply turned their head slowly, looking back at him over their shoulder. Their eyes met his in the dim light.
Recognition hit Xiu like a physical blow. The wide, familiar eyes, the small frame... Number Seven?
He'd expected a Team Rocket grunt, someone to interrogate him of information about their plans. Finding the mute child who had stolen the necklace tracking him... it made no sense. How did she find me? Did I leave some trace after all? Why follow me specifically?
He released the pressure slightly, staring at her face. Her expression wasn't hostile, just... desperate. Worry etched deep lines around her young eyes. She opened her mouth, making soft, guttural clicking sounds – the only noises her damaged vocal cords could produce.
Before Xiu could process this bizarre turn of events, Number Seven's eyes rolled back, and her body went completely limp, slumping forward against him.
Instinctively catching her, Xiu supported her slight weight, frowning. He quickly checked her condition. Her clothes were torn in several places, and he could feel dampness seeping through – blood. Small, shallow cuts littered her arms and legs, but a deeper wound, hastily bandaged, was visible on her abdomen when he gently lifted her shirt. The bandage was already soaked through. Bruises shadowed her skin, suggesting recent, violent impacts.
She's been attacked. Hunted. Professor Oak's words echoed in his mind: "loose ends are tied up..." Her organization must have considered her compromised after failing to return with the necklace. They'd sent someone to silence her.
Damn it. He looked down at the unconscious, bleeding child in his arms. Hesitation warred with pragmatism. Getting involved was risky, especially now. But leaving her here...
He glanced around the deserted alley, then sighed. Trouble finds me even when I try to avoid it. Abra materialized silently beside him. A quick telepathic exchange confirmed their course. Supporting Number Seven carefully, Xiu, cloaked by Abra's psychic field, vanished once more into the shadows.
They reappeared in another abandoned building – different from the one before, this one sparsely furnished but cleaner. Xiu gently laid Number Seven down on a dusty floor mattress from his supplies and Abra helping out with telekinesis.
She stirred, groaning softly, consciousness flickering back. Her eyes fluttered open, finding Xiu kneeling beside her, his expression now serious, professional.
He had already laid out his medical supplies – antiseptic wipes, sterile gauze, sutures, bandages. He pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and gently placed a folded piece of clean gauze between her teeth.
"This will hurt," he said quietly, his voice calm but firm. "I don't have any anesthetic. Try to bear it. Bite down if you need to."
Without waiting for acknowledgement, he carefully cut away the soiled bandage on her abdomen, exposing the wound beneath. A deep slash, likely from a knife or dagger. Recent, within the last couple of hours. He began the grim task of cleaning the wound, assessing the damage, and preparing to stitch her back together.
The silence broken only by her muffled whimpers of pain.