Pokémon: Out of the Woods | A Galar, Unova & Sinnoh Fanfiction

Chapter 17: A Strange Home

Viljar Amund lived in Stow-on-Side. The Gym Leader, Allister, awaited Triton at the stadium. He greeted him with a whisper that was barely audible. His Ghost-type Pokémon had already slipped through the flat's walls to check it was empty. Now, Allister led Triton through Trubbish-scented back alleys, where they wouldn't be seen, to the run-down building where Viljar had lived for the last 28 years. There was no record of where he lived prior. Triton needed no more than that information and Viljar's fake birth certificate to assume he was suspicious.

'You've never met this guy, huh?'

Allister shook his head. His expression was hidden by his mask.

'N-no... but... I know Pokémon who live in these alleys... maybe you could talk to them.'

Triton asked the nearest Trubbish if it knew Viljar, but it didn't know the names of any residents. Nor did its friends. It did, however, tell him that it occasionally saw weird uniforms.

'OK. There's no question that this dude's suspicious in some way.'

'I think... maybe... he doesn't really exist... it's a fake identity...'

'Let's see.'

The walls of the building were filthy. Glass dusted the ground. Two broken windows were replaced with steel boards. Bunting hung over the alleyway, but it was so faded that it looked like forgotten scraps of paper fluttering in the warm wind. Allister's Gengar passed through the wall to open the fire exit from inside. The stairwell was equally filthy. A faint smell of booze hung in the air. It made Allister uncomfortable. Some of his own fans were drunken battling hooligans, but he frankly wished they weren't his fans, because he hated them.

Viljar's flat was one of two on the second floor. There was a muddy doormat outside the other one, but nothing outside his. Triton picked the lock. The air, trapped by the constantly closed windows, was thick with marijuana smoke.

'Someone likes weed.'

Allister's nose wrinkled. He wasn't a fan. It made him even more paranoid than he already was. Triton stopped him stepping straight in. He pointed to a tray behind the door.

'He takes his shoes off. Better not leave muddy footprints.'

'Oh... OK...'

Triton wasn't sure why Viljar bothered taking his shoes off, because the floor was as filthy as the outer walls. Allister's white socks were brown after a few steps. He shrank into his gangling frame at the sight of the half-empty bottles on the coffee table. The bins overflowed. There were holes, which looked deliberate, in the couch.

'He either really likes Lasting Vision by Blue Night, or he has problems.'

'I think... he's a troubled man... or... this flat is only used for parties... but... I've never had any noise complaints about it...'

'Which is a little odd, because he obviously makes a lot of noise.'

Could Viljar really be Jahzeel? He didn't drink or take drugs. He was evicted from multiple apartments in Castelia City, but that was because he stole Pokémon and threatened his neighbours, not because he wrecked them or threw parties. He left those apartments neat and clean. Triton doubted he had ever willingly attended a party in his life. Unless he was destroying things in the process of taking over the world, he was more likely to make a noise complaint than cause one... but then Allister said there weren't any. Did that mean the whole building was infested with Cipher or Team Plasma?

'Do you know what he does for a living, Triton...?'

'He's unemployed... well, he says his employment status is "volunteer," but he's not even receiving benefits... yet this place is definitely in his name and he definitely pays the bills.'

'Wow... I reckon it must be that Jahzeel, then... and I doubt this is even his main fake identity... just one of many... he probably bought this place for his minions...'

Triton hoped to find clues in the sideboard or dresser, but all that crashed out was a pile of mouldy, unwashed dishes and three bags of rubbish. More dirty dishes filled the kitchen cupboards. It indeed appeared that no specific person lived there. There was no hint of any personality, even in the bedroom, where the only items of furniture were two mattresses and a broken wardrobe. There were no hangers, so the two tracksuits the wardrobe contained were shoved over the rail. Triton's Grimmsnarl found several hairs on one mattress and toenail clippings on the other. It stowed them in evidence bags. Triton took a Rotom-powered mini vacuum from his bag to suck up any evidence in the corners of the flat, where it would go unnoticed that anyone vacuumed.

This was unquestionably a place where many people crashed. Rotom said it sucked up hairs of varying colours. Triton suspected it wasn't just a party spot, but some kind of Cipher-Plasma meeting place. So Viljar was indeed some kind of villain... but then what did that say about Pluto, who shared his name? Even behind his mask, Triton could tell that Allister was concerned.

'I really think Viljar is Jahzeel... and he got Rigel. Whether Pluto is Rigel himself or Rigel's son... I don't know...'

'Damn. How the hell did he know to find Rigel over here? Who brought him to Galar? Or... was he somewhere else and Jahzeel brought him here...?'

The bathroom was equally devoid of personality, unless its decrepit state said anything about its owner. The doors of the shower cubicle were smashed. A foul stench drifted from the blocked toilet and sink. Allister almost dropped his mask when Gengar flipped up the toilet lid to see that the cause of the blockage was the decaying corpse of a Skwovet.

'Th-this place! How can anybody live like this?!'

'Yikes! Poor Skwovet! I don't think anyone actually lives here. It's just a place they come to crash or party. Or maybe they think that if they leave it like this, we won't think it's a Cipher – or Plasma – hole? Just a shithole?'

'I suppose...'

'Well, I don't think there's anything else for us to see here.'

'My Pokémon will keep an eye on the place... from the shadows, of course... and you can talk to them to hear what they have to say...'

'That'd be great. Thanks, bro.'

Allister blinked. He had never been called 'bro' before. Triton's mind was elsewhere. He handed over the evidence bags to his Hydreigon.

'Take them to Reira, please.'

Before Hydreigon took off, Triton's Zoroark morphed into a perfect illusion of its Trainer. It climbed onto Hydreigon's back. They left for Hammerlocke. No-one would bother Hydreigon if they thought the World Champion was on its back. Indeed, they passed Pluto, his own Zoroark and another boy on a Shadow Corviknight, followed by Arlene on Pluto's Braviary; but none of them glanced twice at the Pokémon they assumed was a human. Zoroark noticed that Pluto didn't immediately recognise Triton, either. The evidence was safely delivered to Reira, who took it to the Hammerlocke Police HQ for analysis.

Allister asked if Triton wanted him to call a Flying Taxi, since he knew he was heading to Ballonlea next. They were free for members of the Galar League. Triton politely refused. He was going to walk through Glimwood Tangle. Allister warned him that most strangers to the woods got lost, but he waved and said goodbye regardless.

Gengar remained in the shadows of the alleyway. When its 'shift' ended after six hours, it would switch with its teammate Mimikyu. Allister's Pokémon loved playing tricks on unsuspecting humans and Pokémon, but they had never been spotted when they actually wanted to hide. He was sure they would be safe.