"Maple, do you have any well-done beef rice bowls today?"
An aged voice called out. Edward turned his head and saw an elderly man entering the restaurant. He was quite advanced in age, with many liver spots on his face and silver-white hair swaying beside his ears.
Edward immediately recognized the old man. After all, he had seen him not long ago near Mt. Pyre, the same elder who had been helping him and Charizard pick out a grave plot.
And following behind the old man was a Pokémon—an aged Charizard.
Its body was incredibly frail, with loose skin covered in a dense web of old scars. As it opened its mouth, Edward's sharp eyes noticed the absence of teeth. This Charizard had lost all its teeth—its gums were clearly visible when it tried to open wide.
The sight weighed heavily on Edward's heart.
Charizard, a powerful Pokémon and a species capable of evolving into a Dragon-type through special evolution, typically had long lifespans. It wasn't rare to see a grandfather's Charizard still energetic enough to help care for his granddaughter—or even great-granddaughter, in rare cases.
But this Charizard before him looked frail and worn, as if it was living out its final days.
"Of course we have it. John, go ahead and sit with old Blaze," said the elderly Jenny from behind the counter. The sound of her spatula working in the kitchen picked up speed. The man named John slowly guided Charizard to a seat in the corner, clearly trying not to disturb Edward's meal.
Soon, a delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen.
Officer Jenny brought out Edward's wild mushroom fried rice. Edward went over to get it himself, while Jenny quickly returned to the kitchen to continue cooking.
While eating, Edward took out his phone and searched the name "John." Most of the results were irrelevant news stories, but as soon as Rotom intervened, all the clutter disappeared. One headline remained, highlighted in gold:
[League Commends Retired Investigator: A Symbol of Honor and Integrity]
The news article sparkled with praise. Edward tapped it open and immediately saw John's face—it matched the elderly man in the restaurant perfectly. He was a retired investigator from the Pokémon League, a highly decorated veteran.
There wasn't much more information available, other than confirming that John had once served as a League Investigator.
"An Investigator?" Edward muttered thoughtfully.
Pokémon League Investigators were different from Officer Jennys. The Jennys were responsible for maintaining public order within the League and cracking down hard on criminal gangs when needed. Investigators, however, were proactive enforcers, dedicated to rooting out dark organizations from within the League—fighting those who had no regard for human life.
They faced enemies like Giovanni's Team Rocket and ruthless Pokémon poachers. Some even went up against deranged serial killers.
For example, in the Unova region, there had once been the infamous "Green Lake Massacre," where a series of victims' bodies were found arranged around a small lake named Green Lake.
The perpetrator, once apprehended, was sentenced to death, but instead of execution, he was imprisoned in one of the most torturous prisons in this world—Winterheat Island. He's still locked up there to this day.
Why would a death-row inmate be sentenced to life instead? Because in that place, living is more tormenting than death. That cruel madman has already been driven insane, begging for death but never allowed it.
Being a League Investigator was similar to being an international police officer: a high-risk occupation with generous compensation, but incredibly dangerous. Just looking at the Charizard beside John was enough to understand the cost.
Even though Charizards have long lifespans, constant exposure to serious injuries severely damages their vitality. And League Investigators often used experimental combat stimulants developed by the League—drugs that burned through the user's lifespan in exchange for explosive battle power. Use them too much, and you'd die.
As the heir of Devon Corporation, Edward naturally knew some of the inside information. These stimulants were strictly supplied to only those performing highly classified missions. After all, sacrificing years of your life was still better than dying outright.
Once you're dead, there's nothing left.
Old Jenny came out of the kitchen again, this time carrying the beef rice bowl. She gently placed it in front of John and set another bowl next to the Charizard.
Edward could see clearly—calling it a "beef rice bowl" was generous. It was more like beef porridge, with the rice cooked until it was completely soft and mushy.
John picked up a spoon and began to feed Charizard. The old dragon ate slowly, mouthful by tiny mouthful. It had no teeth anymore, and even the act of raising a hand to eat had become difficult. As it ate, a tear slid down from the corner of its eye.
"Hey now, Blaze, don't be embarrassed. You're old now—it's perfectly normal for me to take care of you," John said gently.
He reached out with his age-spotted hand and wiped away the tear at the corner of his partner's eye. There was deep guilt in his gaze.
For the sake of his ideals—protecting the peace of the League, ensuring people could live safely—his Charizard had paid a terrible price. He owed his partner far too much.
Edward lowered his head and quietly ate his meal. He was getting Johnr too—and found it harder to witness scenes like this without emotion.
He wanted to help John and the Charizard in some way. But he knew there was little he could do. Parting through death was the most helpless thing in the world—and something every person must eventually face.
The thought of one day losing his parents, with whom he had once spent every day, never being able to see them again… filled Edward's chest with heaviness.
In the Pokémon world, death was no less real.
Some had tried to avoid it. One man had even succeeded—granting his Pokémon immortality. But the price was steep. His Pokémon remained, but he was left bearing the burden of sin, forever wandering that land alone.
As for the Charizard beside John… saving it now would be near impossible.
It would probably take Ho-Oh itself to perform a miracle—and even then, it might not be enough. Only the one known as the "God of Life," Xerneas, might have a real chance.
Thinking of Ho-Oh, Edward subconsciously reached for his chest, where a feather was tucked inside—a radiant, rainbow-colored feather that gave off a warm, comforting heat.
It was Ho-Oh's feather.
So far, Edward hadn't noticed any special effects from it. It was like a tiny heating pad—warm enough that he could wear short sleeves even on the cJohnst nights—but other than that, it had no extraordinary power.
(End of Chapter)