"Wow! Mom, look at all the Pokémon!"

Matt's eyes were wide as he and his parents walked up the dirt road that led to the center of the Raymond Pokémon Reserve, a massive and lush collection of vegetation and life found only in the southeastern region of Unova. Dozens of miles behind the traveling family, circling the entire reserve, and only a few feet from them, outlining the dirt road that acted as the reserve's radius, were seven feet tall wooden fences, all of them keeping the people outside of them from stealing any Pokémon, their variety giving them great fame in the secluded region.

They were from Sinnoh, Hoenn, even Kanto and Johto, all of them freely roaming the fields, attending their young, eating, or drinking water. Some of the residents were curiously indulging the coos and petting attempts from the other side of their fences. These Pokémon that were outside were the ones that preferred a more rural habitat, one reminiscent to their lives before capture and one that appealed to their basest instincts.

The Pokémon with more human-level behaviors and the ones that preferred a more sophisticated place to live were making themselves at home in the large complex that lie at the dead-center of the colossal field. That was where Matt and his parents were headed; to adopt a Pokémon from this reserve and to meet the famous owner of the place: Chris Raymond.

The house was a large, marble structure, resembling a big white block with elegant windows and large, thick, wooden doors. That was the only way to get passed the sea of wooden barriers. In the back of the marble manor was the only entrance into the reserve's interior, kept under lock and key by Raymond and a select few employees of the reserve. After what Matt's immature and impatient mind perceived as an excruciating amount of hours, he finally reached the house's unusually large doors. They loomed over anyone considering entrance, though Matt, who was at the still-fearless age of 10, was unfazed by the large, looming doors of the construct and eagerly turned around once he reached the entrance, bouncing up and down, waiting for his parents to catch up. Once they finally made their way up the somewhat rough path, Matt's father grabbed the circular handle on the door's top-center and moved it back and forth on its shiny hinges, firmly rapping it against the dark wood and making a light, but brief, banging noise.

Almost immediately afterwards, the door opened, revealing a kind smile worn by a man in his 20s. He had short, straw-blonde hair that was perfectly combed to sweep to one side, giving him a dashing and suave look. He wore a black suit with aquamarine pinstripes and a matching blue tie, its color as bright and alive as the emotion displayed by the sharply dressed man.

"Aha! And this rambunctious young man must be Matthew," The dashing man firmly shook hands with the boy, who was filled with energy at the sight and sound of such a fun-loving adult. "Or do you prefer Matt?"

The boy grinned and nodded. "Yep! Matt's my name, sir. I'm here to get a Pokémon to start my journey. I wanna beat ALL the Gym Leaders and become the champ!" The boy clenched his fists and jabbed at the air in excitement. The man chuckled and grinned. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Matt. Same goes for your parents." He smiled at the married couple, nodding at each of them. "Sir. Madam."

The two smiled and extended their hands out to the kind man, who firmly shook each one. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Raymond." said the woman with a smile. "We live in Striaton City and, well, if we're near THIS place, why wouldn't we get a Pokémon for Matt here? Especially considering the variety… and where they came from…"

It was true. Chris's reserve was in the large amount of fields punctuated by trees to the west of Nuvema Town and Striaton City. The former had a lab that supplied Unovan starters, but the fact the reserve had Pokémon from other regions, and a HELL of a lot more than 3 Pokémon, people mostly preferred this place over the lab, though many trainers still go to the lab for tradition. Chris had discussed the matter of 'stealing business' with the lab's head scientist, Professor Juniper. She shrugged and actually liked the fact they had less people coming around. It gave them more time to breed and restock on the very rare starters and more breathing room for Juniper's true job. She wanted to make groundbreaking discoveries about the complicated and fascinating species known as Pokémon, not give them away to any 10 year old kid that shows up at the right time.

So, after accepting donations from generous benefactors who remained anonymous to the public, Chris was able to afford shipping Pokémon from all the regions into his reserve, giving them a home to stay. The reason activists Team Plasma had no quarrel with this place was that they weren't being snatched from the wild, but were being taken from abusive trainers, seriously injuring them both physically and mentally. With Juniper's blessings, Team Plasma's silent approval, generous donations, and constant customers, within a year, Chris's reserve flourished and thrived, now a peaceful and secure place filled with benevolent and content employees that take care of the Pokémon, making it a tranquil location for both its inhabitants and its visitors.

And now, today, Chris was focusing on his newest visitor, Matt. He sidestepped to allow them room to walk in and motioned them inside. "Please, do come in. I'll show you to the inside of the reserve and Matt here can pick his new Pokémon." Matt's grin widened at the thought of selecting a new partner and dashed inside, his parents laughing and following behind, admiring the place's interior as soon as they entered. The house's inside was much more lavish than its modest façade. A large, copper chandelier hung from the ceiling, dangling approximately 25 feet above the smooth, polished marble floor of the entrance hall on a golden chain.

The entrance hall's floor was checkered black and white and had two staircases leading to the upper floor of the house, each staircase one of the two aforementioned colors. In between the staircases was an elegant pair of glass doors, each with a light brown, wooden frame. On the other side of the crystal-clear glass, the family could see that many Pokémon that roamed the fields of the reserve. Within its doors, wandering around the massive entrance hall, they could see the many Pokémon that lived indoors, speaking with each other, curling up on the ground to sleep, or in the minority's case, giving their attention to the new faces.

"Woooooow!" was all that Matt could gasp, not only at the interior of this place, but at the many Pokémon that wandered. Immediately, he began his rigorous search, going around and meeting all of the Pokémon there, talking to them, petting them or shaking their hands, whatever it took to evaluate their attitudes and mannerisms.

""Ooh, you look so COOL!" said the youngster at the sight of a Riolu. "And you look pretty strong too!" The Pokémon smirked and nodded, then show off his fists and began playing around with Matt, punching the boy's palms, much like in a boxing match. Matt finally fake-retaliated with a fake-uppercut, causing Riolu to fake-fall down. Matt then yelled "K.O!" in the deepest announcer voice his 10 year old voice could muster.

Matt whirled around and saw a Sandshrew and Zubat conversing, their breed something Matt had never seen before. He eagerly pointed at them and shouted, "Ooooh, Mom, Dad, look at them!"

Matt's parents chuckled at each other and smiled. His mother shouted back, "Don't be so hasty with your decision!"

"I won't!"

Chris chuckled and opened the door to the reserve. "You know, there's an entire outside of this reserve. Perhaps we should go outside first? It's your decision of course."

As Chris was talking, he didn't notice a little Vulpix, about 2 years old, sneaking past the open door, wandering into the luxurious house she'd never seen. Her curiosity was piqued at the sight of the human boy and dashed over to him. She stood on her hind legs and pressed her front legs on his legs, wagging her tails and smiling at him. Matt laughed and bent over, petting the little fox, who responded by rubbing the top of her head against his hand, almost doing the petting for him. The boy smiled and started to scratch her ear, making her even happier and causing her to let out a happy, "Vul!" before licking the boy's hand. The youngster laughed at the tickling gesture and held up the Vulpix before hugging her.

He looked back at his parents and Chris, wearing the biggest grin on his face his parents had ever seen. "Mom, Dad! I think I want to go take on the Gyms with this Vulpix. Can I? Can I, pleeeeeease?"

"You're sure? You know, there's no going back on your decision?" Matt looked down at Vulpix and nodded, adorably doing so at the same time as her. His parents looked at each other and smiled. They looked back at their son and nodded. "If Mr. Raymond is fine with it."

Matt jumped up and down, still holding the Vulpix who was equally happy, understanding perfectly what the two human adults said yes to. The mother turned to Chris and took out from the pocket of her black dress pants a leather wallet, containing a considerable amount of PokéYen in it. "How much is she?"

It took Chris a minute to reply to the woman. He was focusing his attention on the young lad and his Vulpix. They both looked so happy. It was something Chris wished he had at that age. A partner Pokémon, a the seemingly easy but realistically difficult dream of becoming the champion, all of them were aspects Chris couldn't afford as a child. But he only smiled and was thankful that only a few children were so unfortunate.

After a couple seconds of registering the fact that he was asked a question, he turned to face the boy's mother. "Hm? Oh, right. Every Pokémon here costs 6000PY, regardless of species." Chris sighed and scratched his neck, underneath his chin. "I hate charging people to adopt, but we need money in order to feed and manage the Pokémon here."

The women's face was crestfallen. She looked at her husband, who had bit his lip, and looked back. They turned their heads back to Chris. "We… we only have 5000… Please, there must be an exception, a discount, something. Please, Mr. Raymond."

Chris sighed. "I'm sorry, but I don't think there are any that-" Just then, Chris gasped. "That's it! I got it! Our reserve will have a new discount!" He put up his hands as though he were displaying a banner. "And it'll be like this: 'All Pokémon will be 50% off for any child that starts his Pokémon journey with the adopted Pokémon!' It's brilliant!"

He looked over at the parents, who looked utterly speechless, and walked over to them, excitedly shaking their hands. "Thank you! Thank you! This will surely get more Pokémon adopted! AND Matt will absolutely get his Pokémon for 3000PY. No! For giving me the idea, you can take her for absolutely free. It's my treat, a way of saying good luck to the future champ."

Matt's parents were utterly awestruck. Matt, who heard the whole conversation, was delighted and laughed at his good fortune. Before the parents could stutter out a thank you, Chris was already walking towards the two young ones, holding a compact, flat and rectangular device with a small, but thick, glass dome on one end, as well as a screen on its broad side. He crouched down and softly petted the Vulpix on the back of the neck, causing her to purr.

"Stay still for a second." ordered Chris in a low, but soothing voice. The Vulpix nodded and planted her feet on the ground, looking at the glass dome on the handheld contraption. A flickering light started to show within the dome and a white light shown on the once blank screen. On it was the following:

Pokémon Vulpix 223456 detected by sensors. Change Vulpix 223456's Original Trainer?

[ ] Yes [ ] No

Chris smiled and petted the Vulpix on the head. "Okay, you can go back to playing now." The Vulpix happily chimed her name and ran back to play with Matt. He pressed the "[ ]" that was next to the yes on the touch-sensitive screen, causing the device to whir and beep in response, and then creating a new message:

Is this Vulpix 223456 being released or obtaining a new Original Trainer?

[ ] Released [ ] New OT [ ] Undo previous action

Chris pressed the center button, instantly causing the stream to display a new message:

Please display gamer card near re-router's scanner and press 'Start' to transfer Vulpix 223456.

[ ] Start

Chris walked up to Matt's parents and smiled at them. "The transfer's almost done. Vulpix no longer belongs to me. I just need Matt's trainer card and she'll be all his." The parents smiled at one another, then at Matt and handed Chris the child's card. He placed it right in front of the small glass dome and finally pressed "[ ] Start" on the screen.

After a few minutes of processing, the device flashed and ringed a victorious tone from its speakers. The large words, "Process complete! Congratulations, Trainer ID 85732! You now own Vulpix 223456!" were brightly displayed on the screen. Chris smiled and turned off the device, then putting it in his pocket. He turned to the adorable pair and crouched down so that he could be eye-level with them.

"Well, Matt," he began, a huge grin on his face, "that Vulpix is now yours. All that's left is giving her a name, if you want her to have one, that is."

"Oh, I definitely want to name her!" Matt eagerly said. He scratched his chin and stared off into space, thinking. After a few minutes of pensive silence, the child turned to Chris. "Mr. Raymond, I want YOU to name her. Can you? Can you, pleeeeeease?"

At first, Chris was surprised at such an offer, but his surprise turned into happiness towards the notion. He smiled. "Sure, Matt. It'd be an honor. Now… let's see…" He looked at the Vulpix, who was staring back with a content and excited shine in her eyes. After a minute of thought, Chris asked, "How do you like the name Kegan?"

"Vul!" was the excited reply of the little Pokémon, happily licking Chris's face for coming up with a quality name for her. She looked over at Matt, who picked her up and rubbed his nose against hers. "We're gonna be best friends, ya know that, Kegan? You and me, we're gonna take on Adeku and become the best of the best!"

Kegan replied with a squeal of her species' name. Chris turned to see Matt's parents approaching him, giving him an almost overwhelming handshake. "M-Mr. Raymond, you have no idea how grateful we are." stuttered the father. "You are a VERY generous man."

Chris chuckled and shook his head. "No, no, helping a child get started on his Pokémon journey shouldn't require something worth praise. If anyone else were in my position, they'd do the same. Besides…" Chris raised an eyebrow and enlarged his grin. "Instead of thanking me and shaking my hand, you ought to hightail it back to your home and prepare Matt and Kegan for their new, life-changing adventure. Nothing's more terrifying than a child that's told to wait for something, after all."

The two adults burst out laughing and nodded. "Oh, trust me, Mr. Raymond, we know that more than anyone here! But you're right, we should be going. Thank you so much for your help." The wife tilted her head and asked, "Umm, isn't there paperwork we need to sign?"

Chris dismissively put his hand up and nodded. "Yes, yes, adoption comes with many semantics. But we can do all of that tomorrow. For now, let Matt enjoy the moment. The paperwork will take a while to do and I don't want to hold him up. You can come here by yourselves and do it tomorrow. Heck," Chris grinned, "maybe I could tell you guys a little bit about the reserve."

The Dad smiled and nodded. "I think that'd be great Mr. Raymond. We look forward to it." He turned and called, "Matt! Kegan! It's time to go back home!"

"'Kay, Dad!" was shouted back as the young man sprinted back, Kegan following close behind. They were both panting, but happy as can be. Afterward, the three said their goodbyes and thanked him yet again for the surprise, free Pokémon. After they closed the large, brown doors behind them, Chris loudly clapped his hands to get the attention of all the Pokémon in the house. "Alright! The reserve's closed, so you can go back to your chambers now, if you want. Feel free to roam the reserve if you want. Just try and not make much noise and try to behave. I'd rather not have my time off interrupted by fights. If you have a problem, come ask me."

One by one, the Pokémon shuffled to their destinations of choice, some going upstairs to the more stubborn Pokémon that refused to sleep like wild ones, some going outside to socialize with the other Pokémon in the reserve. Once Chris had made sure everyone had left the entrance hall, he sighed and walked up towards the door, only to be interrupted by the sounds of footsteps tapping on the marble steps of the staircase.

Chris looked over to see a Mawile happily hopped down the black staircase to the right of the reserve entrance. Once she reached ground-level, she quickly ran towards Chris and jumped into his arms. Chris laughed. "Slept late again?" He chuckled and scratched her ears. "You just missed the guests we had. For someone so energetic, you sure as hell sleep a lot."

She stuck her tongue out and grabbed the man's hair, taking it off and showing jet black hair; a stark contrast to the fake, blond hair that covered it. It was very short, only a few inches longer than a buzzcut and was quite messy, due to being underneath a wig for the entire day, which was practically over- or, at least, his reserve's hours were. The Mawile started to giggle at Chris's messed up hair, then started to laugh out loud at it, Chris angrily blushing as she did so.

"Laugh it up, fuzzball." Chris clenched his fist and started to rub his knuckles against the top of the Mawile's head, causing her to laugh even harder. "It's hard wearing a wig, you know." The Mawile's laughter simmered down back into giggling before stopping completely. Chris got up from his crouched position and walked off to the reserve's exit, or at least it seemed that way. Once he was in front of the entrance, he immediately turned right and faced the black staircase. On its side was a triangular door, the same color as its staircase, sleek and smooth like the rest of the house.

Chris pulled out a ring of keys that were used for various things: the reserve entrance, upstairs, front door, and lastly, here. With a quick turn and a click, the door opened, showing a dimly lit closet. In the center was a hole with a ladder in it. Chris and the Mawile, in that order, climbed down it, the light that surrounded them getting brighter and a more defined shade of yellow as they descended.

When they reached the bottom of the ladder and touched down on the ground, the two found themselves in a stone corridor with bell-shaped lamps placed in many locations amongst the two walls and engorging it in light so efficiently that one wouldn't guess that they were underground. The two walked off into the hall, an odd sound faintly getting into earshot, somewhat sounding like the rustling of chains. Normally, this sound would have spooked whoever may have heard it, but Chris and Mawile already knew what it was and let off an air of anticipation as they quickened their pace towards the sound.

At last, the two reached the entrance of the sound's source: a thin, faded and wooden door latched onto the door by two meager, black hinges. Chris reached the door first, stopping directly in front of it and straightening out his suit's coat and tie. Mawile shortly followed just behind, looking up at Chris as he dusted himself off, giggling at him.

Chris rolled his eyes and opened the door, revealing a man fettered to a chair, several thick sets of chains wrapping around his torso and one thin chain wrapping his legs to the chair's legs. The man had brown hair that was now a total mess, blood trickling down the right side of his forehead, coming from what seemed to be a blow to his head, one that was dangerously close to his temple. His clothes were a stark contrast from the seriousness of his injury and captivity; shredded by cuts and slashes, he wore what looked like a not-so-masculine bathrobe, likely because he was taken late at night before or during bed. Were the situation not so grim, Chris and Mawile definitely would've laughed at the man's frivolous appearance.

The man's mouth wasn't covered, but he stood there speechless at the sight of his sharply dressed and adorable torturers. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide as he shook and thought of the millions of ways this day would end, most of them not looking bright. Finally, he managed to choke out a question and every time, Chris noticed, the first question was always the same. "Wh-where am I?"

Chris smiled and straightened his tie again, casually walking towards the man, a spring in his step. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that. There's always a chance of you escaping, though it is a small one, and I'd you rather not know in case that happens." Chris shrugged casually. "Professional stuff, you understand."

The man's head shot up to look at Chris. He squinted his eyes, both as a sign of focus and of attempting to remember. Suddenly, it dawned on him. "You… I've heard your voice before, somewhere on the news, I think… yeah, and I saw your face too. You're that Raymond guy, th-the one with the Pokémon reserve. Wh-… why are you doing this to me? Wh-why am I here?"

"I dunno." Chris shrugged and turned around to find a beige folder on an old, wooden crate sitting near the door. "Let's check your file, shall we?" He picked up the folder and turned around to walk back to his prisoner. As he walked, he began reading the file. When he reached the beaten man, he cleared his throat and started to read aloud the file's contents.

"Let's see here… 'Name: Mr. Joseph Kingsley; Age: 38; Sex: Male; Wealthy oil tycoon that's only a few positions under Clay the Gym Leader in the company known as 'Sandslash Oil Mining.'" Chris looked over at Joe and nodded. "Very nice. Successful life, no doubt very luxurious. But, that part of your file isn't why you're here." Chris began to pace around the room, Joe rotating his head to keep him in his vision. "You see, Mr. Kingsley, a few months ago, back when this reserve only had a few Pokémon, I received a very odd gift from the criminal organization, Team Plasma: a pregnant Zoroark with two Zorua pups." Chris walked up to the man and leaned in, looking him in the eye. "Sound familiar?"

Joe angrily glared at Chris, shaking his head. "I don't know what you're talking about." Chris smiled and petted him on the head.

"Right, of course you don't." Chris turned around and continued his pacing, the file still in his right hand. His Mawile was leaning against one side of the frame, waiting for something. "Then of course, this file must be wrong. Because it says here, and I quote, 'brutally raped a Zoroark that was in his possession over the course of 3 years, impregnating her 3 times.'" Chris laughed lightly and looked over at Joe again. "Adds up, doesn't it, Mr. Kingsley?"

"I don't know nothin' about no Zoroark." Joe said, his teeth grinding.

"Oh?" Chris mused, his grin getting wider. "Zoroark said otherwise. As does this here file. You see, Mr. Kingsley, when I got word of Team Plasma – that's who bagged, you by the way – that they found the man who raped the Zoroark they found almost a year ago, I decided to ask for his name and talk with Zoroark and hear it from her myself. When I heard the name matched, I accepted their generous offer." Chris's prisoner had no response. Chris gave him a pat on the back. "Oh, don't be so down on yourself. At least you taught her English, right? That's always a plus, unless of course… you didn't do it for her benefit. You only did it for yourself."

Joe's head was still looking down. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Chris kneeled next to him and yanked Joe's hair, causing his ears to be right next to Chris's lips. He muttered so softly, almost like a smooth vibration that sounded like words. It was a deep and accusing whisper. "Maybe you meant to rape her all those times, maybe it was a nice bonus, eh? You… liked her protests, her screaming for you to not do it. Her whimpering, her crying, her pleading; you wanted to hear it, to know exactly what she was saying. Didn't you? All those times she told you, begged you to stop, it just made you more excited and kept you going. Right?"

The oil tycoon said nothing. Chris continued. "Oooh, I can imagine it now. You spending all that time teaching her to speak English. How she must have trusted you. How she must've thought that you were the kindest human in the world for doing something so selfless. And all the while, you were counting down the lessons, the minutes, the seconds until you could finally use it all for YOUR selfish desires. For YOUR lust. For YOUR benefit." Chris stood back up and walked around Joe so that he was right in front of him. In one motion, he pulled out a bowie knife he had in his pocket and slashed Joe on his brow, barely missing his eyes. Joe howled in pain, to which Chris replied with a slash across his cheek. Chris got on his knees and leaned in.

"Shut up and listen, Joey. You, my friend, you're gonna be here for a while. Lily and me," he motioned toward the Mawile with his knife hand when he said her name, "we're gonna take our time on you. You see, Zoroark, who I call Romi, by the way, is fine now. Or at least, fine as she can be. I say that because she will never be normal again. Not after what you did. Ya see, rape isn't some romantic accessory that synergizes your romantic fantasy. It isn't some type of pornography, and it isn't a fetish. It's rape. It's stealing one's innocence, making them think they're worth nothing. When you rape someone, you do more than kill them. You destroy them and let them relish in the aftermath."

His shaking got even more intense when his head shot up and looked at Chris, his eyes were red from crying. "P-please! Mr. Raymond, don't do this. Don't kill me, please God, don't kill me. I-I didn't MEAN to, I… I was just so… it was so… I don't… please…" He deliriously shook his head. "Don't do this to me."

"'Please… don't do this to me.'… I wonder how many times Zoroark said that to you. How many times she begged you to stop, or, better yet…" Chris glared daggers at his captive, "… how many times you didn't listen."

"M-Mr. Raymond, please this won't justify anything! Th-this'll onl-"

"You keep calling me Mr. Raymond…" Chris frowned and pointed his knife at Joe's neck, lightly pressing its tip against his Adam's apple. Joe didn't dare move and froze on the spot the minute the motion was made. "Please, call me Jeff."