Once the loan plan was settled, the officer led Nova to take care of the paperwork.
Since it was an official institution's business, the procedures were thorough and well-organized. Professional clerks accompanied them every step of the way, and all Nova had to do was sign the necessary forms and pay the required fees.
Borrowing the so-called "Legendary Locksmith" did not come cheap.
The usage fee alone came to 30,000 league coins, and on top of that, Nova had to pay a deposit of over 100,000 coins. That money would only be returned in full once the Purrloin was brought back to the Pokémon Correctional Facility.
This was made possible mainly because Mort Cotterill, a recognized Ground-type Master, had agreed to act as Nova's guarantor. Without someone of that standing vouching for him, an ordinary Trainer looking to borrow an A-rank Pokémon offender would not only face a deposit twice as high, but would also need to prove that they had no criminal record and that they were capable of keeping the borrowed Pokémon under control.
After all the paperwork was done, Nova finally understood why the Facility's criminal lending program had not made much of a splash among Trainers.
The fees were steep, the approval process was long and complicated, the restrictions placed on Trainers were many, and the Facility itself was far enough away that the round trip alone ate up a lot of time.
Because of all that, the Pokémon lending service was not useful for anything urgent, and for the smaller problems Trainers ran into in their daily lives, there was simply no reason to go through all that trouble.
It was only in a situation like Nova's — where the matter was not a crisis, but was genuinely difficult to handle and needed a specialist to get through — that the lending service was actually worth using.
Nova was also thankful that he had recently collected a bounty reward and had enough cash on hand. If he had not, that deposit of over 100,000 coins would have been more than enough to leave the once-penniless Nova in a very uncomfortable spot.
With everything finally taken care of, Nova was at last brought to see the Purrloin he had heard so much about.
It was a graceful little Pokémon, with fur as smooth as silk and a deep shade of purple. Its large green eyes shimmered with a sharp, clever light. Its body was lean and nimble, and its purple, curved tail flicked back and forth behind it with a restless sort of energy.
At the moment, the Purrloin was resting inside a cylindrical enclosure about fifteen meters deep, made entirely of reinforced glass. The floor of the enclosure was roughly a dozen square meters and had been set up with a few toys the Purrloin liked, along with the basics — a food bowl and a litter box.
the officer explained to Nova, "Every Pokémon here requires a different containment setup depending on its abilities.
This Purrloin's talent for picking locks is simply extraordinary. It can open just about any kind of door lock with ease. In the first six months after it arrived, it broke containment nine separate times.
That's why we switched to this setup. There's not a single lock anywhere in this enclosure, and the glass walls are smooth enough that the Purrloin can't climb its way out. It's been effective ever since."
While listening, Nova quietly activated his scanning ability to pull up the Pokémon's data.
The Purrloin's talent tier was only Blue, and its level was quite low. It was clear that it had not been through many serious battles — both its moveset and its individual values were poor.
Calling it a non-battler would not have been an exaggeration.
And yet, the single Ability it possessed was, without question, extraordinary.
The Ability was called Skeleton Key, and its description was just one line: "As long as the Purrloin perceives something as a lock, it can find a way to open it."
It almost sounded like something out of a concept-type Pokémon's lore.
Nova found himself thinking about how many possibilities that could open up if this Ability were ever developed to its full potential.
For example, he thought, the term "Genetic Lock" has the word "lock" in it. In theory, Skeleton Key should be able to work on that too, right?
It was an interesting idea. But no matter how many clever uses Nova could imagine for that Ability, none of it changed the simple reality in front of him — the Purrloin was still just a small Pokémon.
It could not understand that its unusual talent might be able to apply to far more abstract things, and there was no way to make it perceive those kinds of concepts as actual locks just because Nova thought it would be useful.
Meanwhile, the other cat on Nova's shoulder had been on edge from the moment they entered the observation room and laid eyes on the purple Pokémon below. Nova could actually feel Sprigatito's fur bristling against his neck, each strand standing up like the spines of a Roserade.
It was like having a small Cacnea perched on his shoulder. Nova flinched at the sharp prickling sensation, and Sprigatito launched herself off in a neat backflip, landing cleanly in front of him before letting out a low, warning hiss.
Nova stared, completely baffled. What on earth is the matter with her?
But Sprigatito was absolutely furious.
"You are not allowed to keep other Pokémon like that!" she seemed to communicate through every bristled hair and narrowed eye.
Inside the glass enclosure, the Purrloin blinked its large, bright green eyes as it watched the scene playing out above it. Its quick mind sized the situation up almost instantly.
Life in confinement had been dull for a long time, and the mischievous streak buried deep in its nature began to stir. Deciding to have a little fun, the Purrloin put on its most pitiful expression and used Charm on Nova from within the enclosure. It pressed its tiny paw pads flat against the glass, brought its face close, and gave Nova's reflection a slow, deliberate lick with its small tongue. Then, as a finishing touch, it rolled onto its back and showed off its soft, smooth belly.
Sprigatito looked like she was about to evolve from sheer anger alone.
She glared at the Purrloin through the glass. How could any Pokémon she had just met already know exactly how to act like that? What if Nova, that hopeless human, actually fell for it?
The worst part was the contrast. The Purrloin was pressing against the glass looking adorable and helpless, while Sprigatito was standing there with her claws out, hissing at her own Trainer. Anyone watching would obviously find the one in the glass more charming.
Sprigatito's anger crumbled into something much sadder. She went from furious and hissing to small and dejected in the span of a few seconds.
She was barely a week old. Why was she already dealing with this?
Watching the entire shift in expression happen right in front of him, Nova could not help but laugh.
He had not expected a Sprigatito with such intense jealousy to be this entertaining.
Still, she was his Pokémon, and if she was genuinely upset, it was his job to sort it out.
Nova crouched down and spent a few minutes talking to her — explaining that the Purrloin was only a temporary arrangement, that it would not be taking Sprigatito's place on his shoulder, and that no matter what happened going forward, she would always be his favorite. Only after hearing all of that did Sprigatito finally settle down and perk back up.
the officer watched the whole thing with quiet amusement from nearby. He could tell that Nova's Sprigatito was no ordinary Pokémon. The way she had leaped off Nova's shoulder earlier — smooth, controlled, landing perfectly — was more precise than the movements of many trained Fighting-type Pokémon he had seen.
That said, a personality like hers was going to keep her Trainer on his toes.
She was easy enough to calm down at this stage, but if she stayed this attached after fully evolving into a Meowscarada, Nova was going to have quite a time ahead of him.