"How come you weren't beaten to death?!"
Zhong Ling glared at Renjiro lying on the hospital bed, waving her little fist in the air in frustration. This guy really was like a cockroach—no matter what happened, he just refused to die. It seemed like even the heavens wanted him to stay and cause trouble a little longer.
If she had arrived at Liming Street just a few minutes later, this stubborn fool would have bled out right there on the cold, dirty pavement. That thought sent a chill down her spine, though she tried not to show it.
"Tsk tsk tsk… with so many scars on your face now, I'd like to see how you're going to charm the girls from here on out." Zhong Ling crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, smirking slightly. For some reason, looking at Renjiro in this miserable state gave her an odd sense of satisfaction. There was even a bit of gloating mixed in. Maybe it was because she'd spent the last few days chasing after the messes he left behind.
By now, the blood on Renjiro's body had already been cleaned off by the nurses. But what remained was just as shocking. His handsome face—the one that so many girls in Shuangyang City admired—was covered in cuts, scrapes, and deep gashes from the brutal fight. The wounds crisscrossed like cracked porcelain, as if his face had been smashed into pieces and clumsily glued back together. His body was no better. Bandages wrapped tightly around his chest, arms, and legs, stained faintly pink as the blood seeped through.
"Boom boom boom."
A knock at the door broke the silence. Zhong Ling turned her head toward the sound.
"Come in," she called out, straightening up.
An investigator entered the room, holding a file in his hands. He stepped forward, handing the folder to Zhong Ling, and began to report in a steady tone.
"Captain, the scene has been processed. The man Renjiro killed has been identified. His name was Qiu Guocheng, forty-three years old, from Xiangjiang originally. One of the most wanted Pokémon hunters in the Yanhuang Region. The cause of death was poison—Beedrill's toxin to be precise. We found traces in his bloodstream."
Zhong Ling flipped through the file as she listened. The photos of the crime scene and Qiu Guocheng's corpse were all in black and white, but the bloodstains were still vivid in her mind's eye.
"Have we found Jiang Xiaoyue?" she asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
Jiang Xiaoyue was supposed to be a key witness. Before, she had been the assistant to Liu Shuyun, and Renjiro had insisted that the real mastermind behind the Salamence attack was Liu Shuyun's brother. But with no evidence and no testimony, their hands were tied. Now, with Qiu Guocheng dead, Jiang Xiaoyue was the last thread they could pull.
"Not yet, Captain," the investigator said with a sigh. "It's as if she vanished into thin air. We've checked train stations, airports, even the city borders. There's no sign of her."
"Alright. Keep looking. If we lose her, we might never bring the Liu family to justice." Zhong Ling waved the investigator away. "Let me know the second you find anything."
"Yes, Captain." The investigator left, closing the door behind him.
Now it was quiet again, except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor beside Renjiro's bed.
Zhong Ling let out a long breath and looked at Renjiro. "I really didn't expect it," she murmured. "Qiu Guocheng—hunted for years by top trainers—killed by him."
She thought back to the file she had read on Renjiro during the Salamence investigation. From primary school through high school, he had been ordinary—so ordinary it was almost laughable. Good grades, a decent athlete, nice enough looking, but otherwise, nothing special. There was no sign, no hint, that he would become someone who could take down a notorious criminal like Qiu Guocheng.
Yet in just one month, this boy who barely qualified as a junior trainer had grown into someone capable of defeating elite opponents, and even killing a dangerous Pokémon hunter. How had he done it? Where had this strength come from?
Zhong Ling didn't know the answer. But as much as she admired Renjiro's skill, his sharp tongue and reckless behavior still made her want to punch him sometimes.
---
Hours passed. The sunlight shifted across the room, casting long shadows.
Then, a soft sound broke the stillness.
"Hiss... it hurts..."
Renjiro's voice was barely more than a whisper, strained by the pain of his injuries. His eyelids fluttered, and he winced as the raw pain of his wounds flooded back into his awareness. His body felt heavy, every movement sent a wave of agony through him.
His eyes opened slowly. A white ceiling. The faint smell of antiseptic. The slow drip of an IV.
"I'm in the hospital," he realized. His mind flashed back to the moment before he blacked out—the call to the Shuangyang Investigation Bureau, the overwhelming exhaustion, the feeling of his body giving out. Someone had answered that call. He was alive because of it.
Renjiro's heart began to race. His first instinct was to reach for his Poké Balls. After what he'd been through, he felt vulnerable without his Pokémon by his side. His fingers fumbled at the edge of the bed, searching the sheets, the table—anywhere they might have been left. But the Poké Balls weren't there.
Where are they? His pulse quickened. He felt exposed, like a soldier without his weapon.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Renjiro froze. His heart pounded in his ears. He had seen too many shows in his past life where assassins disguised themselves as doctors or nurses to finish the job.
But when the door swung open, relief washed over him.
Zhong Ling entered the room, her Arcanine trotting loyally at her side. She wasn't dressed in uniform—just casual clothes with a helmet tucked under one arm and a plastic bag in the other.
"Hey, you're awake," she said, a teasing note in her voice. "I was starting to wonder if you'd sleep through the next decade."
She walked over and placed the plastic bag on the table. "I bought some buns. You want one?"
Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed one for herself, tearing into it as she sank into a chair. Arcanine sat beside her, tail wagging as Zhong Ling fed him pieces of the bun.
Renjiro stared at her for a moment. Then, weakly, he whispered, "Thanks."
Zhong Ling paused mid-bite, surprised. She hadn't expected him to be polite. "Oh, you can say thank you," she smirked. "I'll have to remember this moment."
Renjiro closed his eyes again, too exhausted to respond. The room fell into a peaceful silence, interrupted only by Arcanine's happy chewing.
After a while, Zhong Ling dusted her hands off. "Given how bad your injuries are, you're not going to make it to this year's college entrance exam," she said bluntly. "What's your plan now?"
Renjiro's eyes flew open. "No... I have to go!" he said, trying to sit up. But his body wouldn't cooperate. The effort left him breathless, and he slumped back against the pillows, weak and frustrated.
He couldn't afford to miss the exam. Without getting into a top university, his plan would fall apart. The libraries, the research labs, the chance to study ancient Pokémon genetics—he needed all of it if he was ever going to unlock the secret to creating Mewtwo.
Zhong Ling saw the determination in his eyes. Even half-dead, this guy still wouldn't give up. She shook her head in disbelief. "You really are something else, Renjiro."
---