I averted my gaze as I passed the security post to the North of the city. The guard paid me no notice, which suited me, as I must presume that every cop is dirty and every pedestrian a secret drug dealer. It's the only way to safeguard my cover. The path leads to the National Park, in between Goldenrod and the historical city of Ecruteak. A historical city is one in which they spend a lot of money in order not to modernise it. I wouldn't wander that far, but the park seemed like the perfect place to let my beloved Yitzhak loose for a bit. I am quite obviously a trainer so it would be suspicious if I didn't battle a few people along the way, even if they are all overconfident teenagers.
One boy was desperate to show his buddies how tough he was and was eager to fight. I accepted with a curt nod and released Yitzhak from his pokèball. There are two reasons I chose to adopt Tepig and not Growlithe like every other police officer you will ever meet. The first is that I work almost exclusively undercover, disguised as a regular trainer. The second is that I really don't like Growlithe. In Johto, such exotic pokèmon as Tepig are seldom if ever owned by trainers, though Tepig in particular are rarely seen even where I come from. His pokèmon of choice was Machop, which was preparing a karate chop when Yitzhak roasted him with a flame thrower. I didn't let him go all out, but it did win the battle a matter of seconds after it had started. Tepig's natural agility is often a boon in battles, but my Tepig has a carefully selected move-set that was achieved through hard training, selective breeding and expensive TMs.
I sat on a bench in the park and Yitzhak snuggled up to me on my lap. I laid a hand on him absent-mindedly. A few teens climbed a fence and disappeared into the trees. I sighed and pushed myself up. I reminded myself that I was chasing after people half my age for the greater good and ignored my aching back. I started after them far enough back that they didn't see me. I rolled my eyes at their sloppiness - they didn't even leave anyone behind to check for nosey adults like myself. Yitzhak was by my heels. He knows when to be quiet.
Like much of the city, the National Park was littered with cigarette packets, cigarette butts, food wrappers and other assorted trash that trainers threw away without a thought as to whether or not it was biodegradable. The local authorities, like most of their kind in Johto, are constantly strapped for cash and have neither the funds nor the political will to invest in cleaning the City or the adjacent park. It was hard to miss the stench of cannabis and urine hanging in the air, making me want to hold my breath. I took a few more steps and took out my camera. Another step and something splintered underfoot. A syringe. These kids were in deeper than I thought.
I leaned around the corner. A group of teens were smoking cannabis and chatting amongst themselves. One or two of them could be as young as 13. I photographed them from a distance. I could later blow up the photos and identify everyone. I looked a little longer and took a few more photos and then I saw what I had been hoping for. A young man in his early twenties, an uneven beard hung on his face, his unwashed hair a mess of grease and grime, was exchanging small plastic bags of weed for money. He was taking wads of several thousand pokédollars for each bag. This isn't actually such a large amount, it is simply that inflation is very high. I had found the dealer. I photographed him and slipped away unnoticed, a haze of marijuana surrounded the teens as if a Koffing had launched its smog attack.
