A personal favor? What kind of favor could it be? If Officer Jenny herself was asking Nova for help, he would walk through fire and water without a second thought.
"So you're saying you can evaluate a Pokémon's potential?" Officer Jenny asked, studying him carefully. "Is that how you were able to judge the strength of that Flygon we found in the desert, just from a single glance?"
"More or less," Nova replied with a modest shrug. "I can get a rough sense of a Pokémon's current strength, and I can pick up on the latent potential inside a Pokémon Egg or a very young Pokémon that hasn't fully developed yet."
He was, of course, underselling himself considerably.
The truth was that the system he relied on gave him a complete and perfectly clear readout of any Pokémon he looked at. One glance was all it took — type, moveset, hidden ability, everything. Saying that out loud, though, would sound completely unbelievable.
Still, this world was no stranger to remarkable gifts. There were Psychic-type users who could read minds with frightening accuracy, and Aura practitioners who could sense the emotions and intentions of both people and Pokémon around them. A trainer who could assess a Pokémon's potential wasn't unheard of — just rare.
So if Nova told people he had a natural talent for reading Pokémon potential, it wouldn't raise too many eyebrows. Plenty of experienced breeders and cultivators developed something similar after a decade or more of study.
The problem was that if he let on just how precise his ability really was, the Pokémon League might take a serious interest in him. They might even decide he'd be more useful as a professional evaluator or talent scout than as a trainer on the road. And that was the last thing Nova wanted.
He wanted to travel. He wanted to battle. He wanted to build his team his own way, on his own terms.
There was nothing wrong with being a skilled evaluator and a strong trainer at the same time — plenty of people wore both hats. But if he attracted too much attention before he had any standing to push back, someone else might start making decisions about his future for him.
So he kept his description vague and humble. At the level he described, a veteran cultivator or experienced Pokémon breeder with ten or more years of practice could manage something similar. That made him nothing more than a slightly above-average young trainer with a useful eye. Nothing that would make the League sit up and take notice.
He had his reasons for being cautious. And lying low, at least for now, was the sensible thing to do.
"So, Officer Jenny," Nova said, steering the conversation forward, "you need my help with an evaluation?"
"You could say that," she replied.
"How long would it take?"
"Half a day at most. It shouldn't get in the way of anything else you've planned."
"That's fine by me," he said.
Officer Jenny nodded. "Are you free tomorrow morning? The Taylor case is more or less wrapped up — the paperwork can be handled by the rest of my unit. I can take a few hours off. If things go smoothly, there might even be a little something in it for you."
A little something? Nova's brain immediately started filling in possibilities he probably shouldn't have been entertaining.
He gave himself a firm mental reminder: You already have someone back home. No matter what this woman says or does, stay focused.
Officer Jenny was impressive, no question about it. She carried herself with the kind of quiet authority that came from years of real work, and she clearly knew her Pokémon inside and out. But Nova had Aresdra waiting for him, and he wasn't about to forget that.
Thankfully, Officer Jenny couldn't hear any of that inner debate. If she could, he suspected he'd be looking at a harassment charge before the day was out.
They arranged to meet the following morning outside the small inn where Nova was staying, then said their goodbyes at the entrance to the Security Bureau. Officer Jenny still had a shift to finish, and Nova had nothing left to do but head back and rest.
The desert route had taken a lot out of him.
The trip had been worth it, no doubt. His team had grown to four members, but two are eggs, Corviknight had reached its final evolutionary stage, and there was a generous bounty waiting to be collected. But tired was tired, and no amount of good news made sore legs feel better.
The inn Nova had chosen was built from a converted warehouse — a single-story structure with six-meter ceilings and wide open rooms, designed to accommodate trainers traveling with larger Pokémon partners. A Nidoking could move around without bumping into anything, which was part of why the place had its small but loyal following.
That was exactly why Nova had picked it. Keeping Nidoking and Corviknight cooped up inside their Poké Balls for two or three days straight felt unreasonable. They'd earned the space.
Of course, giving them the space had its consequences.
The next morning, Nova's alarm wasn't a clock. It was Nidoking.
The moment his trainer showed no signs of getting up to prepare breakfast, Nidoking took matters into its own hands — literally. One large claw hooked under Nova's back, and suddenly he was dangling upside down, being swung in a slow, deliberate arc. Ni... NIDO! it rumbled, deeply unimpressed.
After two full rotations, Nova was very much awake. He checked his phone with bleary eyes. Eight o'clock.
Nidoking, as it turned out, would absolutely betray its trainer for a meal. And if that didn't work, Corviknight was waiting in the wings, ready to take over with its own brand of harassment.
Nova had started to wonder, in a half-serious way, whether he'd done something terrible in a past life to deserve two Pokémon this stubborn. He could only hope that the two Eggs still waiting to hatch would produce something a little gentler.
After preparing breakfast for both of them and grabbing something quick for himself, it was nearly half past nine — right around the time he'd agreed to meet Officer Jenny. Keeping someone waiting wasn't his style, so he got moving.
He recalled Nidoking and Corviknight to their Poké Balls, strapped on his travel pack, and headed out.
The May morning was bright and pleasant. The weather in this part of the region had warmed up nicely, and the sunlight was soft enough to be comfortable. Nova was enjoying it, standing at the side of the road, when he heard the rhythmic thud of heavy paws.
A large, magnificent Arcanine came to a stop in front of him with a controlled slide, kicking up a small cloud of dust that drifted directly into Nova's face. Its flame-patterned coat caught the morning light beautifully. Ar-CANINE!
Officer Jenny sat upright on its back, looking entirely too composed for someone who had just covered who-knows-how-much ground at full speed. "Morning, Nova. Have you eaten?"
"I hadn't," Nova said, brushing dust off his jacket, "until I got a mouthful of whatever this road is made of."
"Stop complaining and get on," she said. "I'm taking you somewhere. You'll see when we get there."
The Arcanine lowered itself calmly so Nova could climb up. He gave it a quick pat on the side — its fur was thick and surprisingly bristly — then swung himself up behind Officer Jenny.
He had ridden on a few different Pokémon before, but never an Arcanine. There was something different about it. Even standing still, the Pokémon radiated a steady warmth, and he could feel the restrained power in its frame.
"Anything I should know?" he asked.
"Hold on tightly," she said simply. "When Arcanine uses Extreme Speed, there's no saddle to keep you in place. If your grip slips, you're going to find out what flying feels like — without a Pokémon under you."
Nova looked at her back, then at her sides. There was no handle, no strap, nothing obvious to grab. "Hold on to what, exactly?"
"My waist," she said flatly. "Unless you'd rather try your luck with my shoulders."
That's... fair enough, he thought, reaching forward and taking hold of the fabric at either side of her waist, carefully.
"One warning," she added, her tone completely serious. "Don't move your hands. If you tickle me, I'll tell Arcanine you're a chew toy."
Nova kept very, very still.
Arcanine launched forward, and they were off. The streets of the city blurred past. Nova held on and said nothing, caught somewhere between the rush of the speed and the mild anxiety of not knowing what was waiting at the other end.
This is the little surprise, he thought. Has to be.
But something told him the real surprise was still ahead.