Pokémon Detective Case Files.

Xiaobaihe opened her eyes and saw a tall man in a white robe standing in front of her.

"Bullying the weak is not what a real man does." The man's voice was soft, yet it rang clearly in everyone's ears. The boys looked at each other, then quickly scattered like birds.

Little Lily stared blankly as the stranger knelt down and took out disinfectant and bandages from his small bag. His fingers were long and clean, and the way he bandaged the bat's wounds was incredibly gentle, reminding Little Lily of the kindest teacher in the orphanage.

“I’m helping out at Team Plasma’s church in Odd Dragon City.” He said, skillfully securing the bandage. “We’re currently holding a ‘Pokémon Clinic’ event. Shall we take this little guy for a full checkup?”

As the stranger stood up and returned the rolling bats to Little Lily, a gentle breeze lifted the hem of his robe.

Lily noticed a silver-blue badge on his waist. The design resembled a shield split by lightning, with strange patterns interwoven in black and white.

"You're welcome to visit the church anytime." He smiled and handed her a church brochure with the address printed on it. "We also have many Pokémon like the Bumblebee that need care."

.

Lengzi was initially very worried.

"Plasma Group?" She frowned, flipping through the church brochure her daughter, Sayuri, had brought back. "I heard they've been causing trouble all over the United States lately..."

“Uncle Church isn’t a bad person!” Little Lily held the gray-blue fluff ball in her arms higher, the white bandages of the rolling bat were dazzling under the indoor light. “He said he can take Little Roll to change his dressing tomorrow!”

The word "church" made Lengzi stop what she was doing.

Last week, while grocery shopping, she saw a new poster on the bulletin board at the street corner: against a blue sky background, humans and Pokémon held hands in a circle, with the title "[Liberate Pokémon, Build a Pure World]". It was signed "Team Plasma, Double Dragon City Friendship Association". At the time, Lengzi just thought it was another gimmick from some new religious group.

I never expected it to be a subordinate organization of the Plasma Cluster...

“That kind of place…” She carefully chose her words, catching a glimpse of her daughter affectionately rubbing her cheek against a rolling bat. The Pokémon made a soft purring sound, its heart-shaped wrinkle on its nose furrowing.

However, when she actually stood in front of the church, all her doubts vanished like morning mist.

The man whom his daughter called "Uncle Church" was more like a gentle extracurricular activity teacher than a clergyman.

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass, casting dappled shadows on him as he knelt down to trim the nails of a small Yorkshire Terrier.

In the courtyard in front of the church, Lily's bouncy bat stood proudly atop a doll-like head; its injured wings, though still bandaged, were already flapping merrily. Nearby, four or five wild Pokémon were eating energy cubes, including a vulture girl who, instead of being fierce, was now obediently letting the little girl preen her feathers.

Lengzi instinctively reached for her waist—her Poké Ball contained a fluffy sheep, ready to handle any unexpected situations. But when she saw Almost Doll use "Heal Pulse" to soothe a Whimsicott's sunburn, her fingers slowly loosened.

"Don't you... preach your doctrines?" She took the orange fruit tea offered by the Plasma Group priest.

“We believe more in actions than words.” The priest pointed to the girl brushing Munchlax’s teeth. “That’s Joanne, the night nurse at the Pokémon Center.” He then pointed to the old man adjusting the projector. “He was Mr. Roy, a researcher at the Seven Treasures Museum before he retired.”

The projector lit up, and instead of a religious propaganda video, it played an instructional video titled "Pokémon First Aid Basics".

Lengzi watched her daughter hugging the rolling bat and playing happily with the other children in the corner.

She suddenly felt that perhaps there really was something here worth believing in.

.

Morikawa Shigeaki never considered himself a devout person.

When Rinko first brought Sayuri back from the Plasma Group church, excitedly recounting how friendly the people there were and how they helped them, he only gave a vague response, continuing to turn the wrench under the hood.

“They specially packed us a basket of tree fruits.” His wife, Lengzi, placed the wicker basket in the center of the dining table, saying that the church members had planted them themselves.

Morikawa slid out from under the car, wiped the engine oil off his face, and glanced around casually. The plump oranges had glossy skins, and the berries emitted a faint sweet fragrance; they were indeed much better than the shriveled goods in the supermarket… “Hmm,” he mumbled in response, and crawled back under the car.

"Why don't you ask them why they're being so kind?" Lengzi asked tentatively as she wiped the table.

"Isn't that how all churches operate?" A deep voice came from under the chassis, accompanied by the crisp sound of metal clashing. "To recruit people, you always have to offer them something in return."

Lengzi frowned, but didn't say anything more.

That night, Morikawa lay in bed, listening to his wife soothing Sayuri to sleep in the next room. His daughter was unusually excited that day, constantly talking about how the uncle at church had healed her bat's wings.

“He said Pokémon shouldn’t be bullied,” Sayuri’s voice came through the crack in the door, “just like people.”

Morikawa rolled over and closed his eyes...

Change always happens slowly.

First, vegetables and bread from the church started appearing frequently on the family's dining table; then, Xiaobaihe's cough symptoms, which she had since childhood, lessened—the medicinal diet prepared by Miss Joan from the church seemed to have really worked; later, even her son started mentioning that a new classmate had taken the initiative to talk to him, and that the classmate's father was a deacon at the church who often tutored him in math after school.

But Morikawa still kept his distance from the church. He never attended services or participated in any church activities.

But when he came home from working overtime one day and found that the leaking water pipe in the kitchen had been fixed, Lengzi smiled and said, "It was Aunt Marlene from church who sent her husband. She said you looked too tired lately."

Morikawa stood in the kitchen, touching the smooth, brand-new water pipe joints, and for the first time felt a little uneasy.

.

That rainy night became a turning point in their lives.

Morikawa was tasked with transporting a batch of classified Alliance documents to headquarters. The rain was so heavy that the truck skidded while turning, crashing into a lamppost. The rear cargo door swung open, scattering three boxes of documents across the muddy road.

He rushed into the rain to frantically try to salvage the situation, but it was too late. Ink had smeared the papers, causing them to stick together, rendering at least a dozen important documents useless.

“It’s over…” Morikawa knelt in the rain, staring at the damaged bus, his fingers digging deep into the mud. For the first time, this forty-year-old man felt such despair about life.

"Am I going to lose my job..." he muttered to himself, recalling the terrifying look in his supervisor's eyes when he gave him the assignment. "No, not just lose my job, I might even go to jail..."

Three days later, as he nervously walked into the Alliance headquarters to accept his punishment, a voice called out to him.

"Is that Morikawa? What a coincidence."

When Morikawa looked up and saw Lionel Skolatos, he almost didn't recognize him.

The man, whom his daughter called "Uncle Church," who always wore a simple white robe, stood before him, but now he was dressed in a completely different outfit—a well-tailored dark suit that accentuated his extraordinary demeanor, with an access card for a high-ranking member of the alliance pinned to his chest.

“I heard about the documents.” Lionel pulled him to a corner of the corridor, his voice extremely low. “Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of it.”

Morikawa stared wide-eyed, bewildered: "But those are confidential documents, the department head repeatedly instructed that they must be delivered..."

"Just some useless, outdated files. Just dust in the big machine of the Alliance; compared to an employee's livelihood, it's nothing." Lionel blinked. "They just need to be destroyed anyway, don't they?"

As Morikawa walked out of the building in a daze, the sunlight after the rain stung his eyes.

The fragmented blue sky was reflected in the puddles, and he suddenly remembered what his daughter had said when she first came back from church: "The church uncle said that no Pokémon should be bullied, just like people."

From that night on, Morikawa began to unconsciously pay attention to the news about Lionel in the newspapers. Whenever he saw these reports at breakfast, the corners of his mouth would involuntarily turn up, as if he had also contributed to those achievements.

This vice president of the United Federation seems willing to risk disgrace to quietly contribute to the Plasma Group Church in Shuanglong City as an ordinary church member.

No one could have imagined that a high-ranking official of the League would be so devoted to the community groups in the outlying parishes. Whenever he had free time, he would shed the majesty of his League uniform, put on a simple white robe, and bandage the wounds of injured Pokémon in the candlelit church, or patiently teach the children in the church to read.

This unwavering commitment, transcending any particular stance, is said to have earned the admiration of the seven sages of Team Plasma. They may have vaguely sensed something, yet were nonetheless moved by its sincerity. After all, in this world rife with lies, someone who can convincingly portray such a facade is all the more convincing.

When Morikawa truly witnessed Lionel's energy at the Ministry of Transport's annual meeting, he understood where that composure came from.

The section chiefs, who were usually so arrogant and domineering towards ordinary employees, became completely respectful in Lionel's presence. The "church uncle," on the other hand, simply smiled gently and winked almost imperceptibly as he passed by.

Morikawa never intended to use this relationship for personal gain. But when his son was recommended for a better private middle school near their home, he still made a point of inviting Lionel to a small bar near the station.

He was about to say thank you when the other person gently waved his hand to stop him.

"No need to thank me for this," the vice president interrupted Morikawa's bow. "Isn't the meaning of our struggle to ensure the children grow up happily?"

Under the dim light, Morikawa gazed at the light flickering in the other's eyes.

At that moment, he suddenly understood that what this man carried in his briefcase was not power, but an ideal more dazzling than the stained glass windows of a church.

Do you know why I didn't promote you in the league?

In the private room of the cocktail party, a slightly tipsy Lionel had his arm around Morikawa's shoulder. The light from the crystal chandelier reflected off his silver-gray suit, making it look like metal.

“Because the current alliance is like this glass of wine.” He swirled the amber liquid in the glass. “It looks glamorous, but it’s already spoiled.”

Morikawa gripped his glass tightly, listening to the vice president describe his ideal: a new world without Pokémon battles or class oppression. The spirit of mutual help within the church would extend throughout the Unova region.

“At that time…” Lionel’s voice suddenly became unusually clear, “Only someone as diligent as you deserves to wield real power.”

Later, whenever Morikawa drove the Alliance's official car past the church, he would silently roll down the window.

Among the hymns carried on the wind, he could distinguish Lengzi's gentle voice and Xiaobaihe's silvery laughter.

This tranquility deserves his silence, even if it's done in the ugliest way—like deliberately omitting the destination of certain supplies in the transport log, or turning a blind eye to the occasional unfamiliar vehicle appearing in the corner of the garage…

Until one rainy night, he saw Lionel being escorted into a police car in his rearview mirror.

The windshield wipers swung mechanically, but they couldn't wipe the rainwater running down the windshield clean.

.

The dream shattered like glass.

The scene witnessed in the rainy night was not a nightmare—news of Lionel's arrest spread like wildfire throughout the league. Rumors circulated that the newly appointed Unicron Champion personally led the team to imprison the beloved vice-president on charges of espionage.

Even more frightening than this is the change in the church.

The gentle "church uncle" is gone, replaced by a new leader with sharp eyes. The church is no longer a warm community, but more like a camp preparing for war. Mutual aid meals have turned into heated rallies, and gentle doctrines have been replaced by hatred for the Pokémon League.

"They've taken our brothers!"

"The league must pay the price!"

Every now and then someone would stand up and shout, slamming their fist on the table and knocking over teacups. Scalding hot tea splashed onto the back of Morikawa's hand, but he felt no pain.

Morikawa stood in the crowd, listening to the roars all around him, but suddenly felt a sense of estrangement...

We need you.

In a daze, a cold voice pulled him back to reality.

The new high-ranking member of the Plasma Group appeared before him at some point, his sharp, piercing gaze seeming to cut through his disguise.

What the other party was after was his position in the league; they wanted to use him to create trouble. Morikawa instinctively wanted to refuse—

"The target of this operation is the new champion of the United League—you probably also want to avenge the vice president, right?"

These words struck me like a hammer blow to the chest.

Lionel's face suddenly appeared before his eyes—the hand that reached out to him on that rainy day, the gentle smile under the tavern lights, and the words, "Only someone as diligent as you deserves to wield real power."

In the utter silence, Morikawa could only hear his own hoarse voice—

"……it is good."

He didn't even hear the executive mention the compensation...

Morikawa originally intended to bear all of this alone.

But when he returned home late at night and found his wife and daughter standing in the entryway, looking at him with determined eyes, he realized that they had already heard about the plan from other people in the church.

“We are family.” Lengzi gripped his arm tightly, her nails almost digging into his skin.

Whether influenced by the fervent atmosphere of the church or by her instinctive female intuition, her strength was astonishing.

"Wherever we go, we'll be together."

She seemed completely unaware that her husband was being ordered to take another person's life.

While her son was away at school, her daughter, Xiaobaihe, stood quietly beside her mother, tightly holding the now-healed bat in her arms.

Team Plasma doesn't have strict requirements regarding Pokémon ownership among its members. Over the years, the little guy's ownership has long been transferred to Rinko, and he is currently nestled obediently in Lily's arms.

“Dad,” Lily whispered, “we won’t let you go alone.”

Morikawa wanted to say, "This is too dangerous," and "You shouldn't get involved," but when he saw the look in his daughter's eyes, all those words stuck in his throat.

Everything seemed unchanged—the little girl in the park sandpit, risking everything to protect vulnerable lives, was still there; and Lengzi was still the mother who would give everything for her family. But all of this seemed to have been distorted in some way…

Morikawa took a deep breath and, in the quiet of the night, made his final decision.

He was always busy with work but achieved little. He received kindness from others but was always unable to repay it. He was neither a good father nor a reliable friend. However, the hymn-like happy times in church left him and his family with no choice but to cross the crossroads of good and evil.

Even if they take a step in that direction, they will all step into darkness together.

.

"So what? Where exactly is this so-called 'unexpected intelligence'?"

Luna impatiently shook the document in her hand, the papers rustling.

She raised an eyebrow at the detective: "The Morikawa family decided to carry out the assassination under the influence of the church and Lionel—this perfectly matches what we have. After all, how valuable can information be accessed by an ordinary driver?"

"If you ask me, the most surprising thing here is that Morikawa's son was completely unrelated to this matter from beginning to end."

An investigator randomly flipped to a page in the file—

"That boy was going through the most rebellious phase of his adolescence. He had just passed the school's exam and adopted his starter Pokémon from the Yew Research Institute... I think it was Oshawott. Anyway, he was obsessed with becoming a trainer. He scoffed at Team Plasma's theory of 'liberating Pokémon' and didn't even know that his family was involved in church activities."

This is truly ironic.

The child knew nothing.

He was unaware that his parents and sister were about to embark on a path of no return, unaware that his family was falling apart, and even less aware that his dream of "becoming a Trainer" was already considered a sin deserving of condemnation in Team Plasma's doctrine.