Having lost Roserade, Trevenant began to retrace his steps. He meticulously found and cleaned up every ounce of blood that hadn't washed away in the rain. All the while, he began to craft the cover story. She had seen his face but thanks to the Phantom Corp's influence, he effectively didn't exist in Nihonera. Eyewitness accounts are never 100% accurate so he shouldn't have to worry about being positively identified as if pursuing her in the middle of the night wasn't enough. All he needed to do was lure the good cops into a wild goose chase, making up a story about Roserade having a stalker that wanted to kill her, a stalker that didn't exist. Even if she told the truth, his guys would distort it to fit his image. Speaking of cops, he was going to tear his friends a new asshole for fucking up that badly.

He returned to Roserade's home under darkness. As the saying goes, it is always darkest before sunrise. Guesstimating, he assumed he had maybe a half-hour to do this. He had been in worse circumstances. Mawile was less than a second. Reaching into a nearby bush, Trevenant pulled up a large suitcase. Trevenant opened the case and pulled out a full hazard suit, latex gloves, a unique chemical solution from Vida herself, tweezers, plastic socks, and a small laptop-style device with a printer attached to it.

First, the cover-up. He quickly scoured the internet for pictures of Roserade. Knowing her actual name made it fairly easy. Lavender Roimhe. Thinking about it, he always wondered why Nihonera was so insistent on species then name. Most of the world just used names, so using species first just seemed strange to him. Regardless, he found a fairly nice picture of her. One that a stalker would realistically use if they were obsessed with someone. It appeared to be from some sort of party, perhaps celebrating an important discovery. Roserade had worn a fairly nice purple dress that sparkled. Trevenent smirked, it was kind of dorky in an endearing sort of way.

A job is a job, however. He printed the picture and carefully entered through the window. Placing it onto the floor and stepping on it, he gave it the illusion of being dropped during the scuffle. Next on the chopping block was his blood. Even though he wasn't in any sort of database, Trevenant wasn't giving the police an inch. This was where that chemical solution came in. He spread it out onto the blood, before backing away and watching as the blood began to fizzle and crackle. Eventually, the blood coagulated and solidified into a dinner plate-sized clump, allowing the grass type to pick it up with no stains on the floor for police to find. Roserade's blood could stay since it added to that story. Next, with those tweezers, he meticulously went through the kitchen and picked up every little piece of bark that had flaked off of him during the struggle. Finally, he finished it all off by placing a normal rock in place of the one with the Phantom Corp Death Mark.

If you saw that symbol, you were dead.

With that, his job was done, and not a moment too soon. The sun had risen from the horizon. He needed to get out of here before the Senshi arrived. Trevenant scowled and snuck back out the window, walking into the nearby forest. He knew that Vida would chew his ass out for screwing this up, so he decided to just get this over with. With a modified WristOn, he contacted Vida, and as soon as she answered, he told her,

"The target escaped."

"What?" Vida exclaimed, "You let her get away?!" Trevenant groaned in frustration, largely at himself,

"I pushed it too far. She armed herself with a knife and stabbed me with it. Trapped me on the road. Don't know where she is now," he said, "Get every hospital worker on our payroll to find her. I shot her with a bullet seed." Vida calmed slightly, but still called him out,

"Master will not be pleased, Marshall."

"I know, I know."

"I'll send Blackout to your location. She'll probably be under Senshi's protection so you'll need his power."

"Alright, I'll see you."

Now starting to recover from her shoulder wound, Roserade's doctor recommended that she walk through the city as a method of physical therapy. Blaziken was very much opposed to the idea of sending someone who was just attacked by a member of a massive crime syndicate out onto the streets. However, because Roserade had run so far without the proper training, her legs were in rough shape. But she needed to move around because of how long it would take for them to be 100%, and her leg muscles would atrophy if she remained on the bed. However, there was also the fact that the Phantom Corp could and most likely would send people to attack her in the hospital. Knowing this, Blaziken pulled out all the stops. About thirty Senshi in the area were assigned to serve as her guard. Only Blaziken would be by Roserade's side, however. The rest were spread out, in order to not call attention to the grass type while also watching for any snipers or gunmen.

Roserade had her arm slung around Blaziken's neck. She gave the fire-type specific instruction to literally sweep her off of her feet in case the pain got too severe. A reasonable request for someone who just ran half a marathon without any preparation. So the two began to walk the streets of Dariquin. The city had this grungy cyberpunk aesthetic with dark streets illuminated by the glowing neons of the signs attached to various poles and stands. Each apartment stretched up five stories. Bright lettering and advertisements were in every way. In every corner was some sort of small store or restaurant that was barely larger than a college dorm room. A talented chef flipped takoyaki balls in their tray with pinpoint accuracy as a weaver formed a gorgeous pattern on a rug just across the street. There was a reason why Dariqun was called the small business capital of Asia.

Blaziken then led Roserade towards a certain club. It was covered in glowing neon lights and signs that read out, "Ongaku." Amongst those signs was billboards was enlarged pictures of well-known dancers and musicians, mostly within the EDM and techno genre. Roserade asked,

"Why are we going here?"

"We've got to meet a certain friend of mine," Blaziken answered. As the two entered the club, bouncing music pulsed through the air. Hundreds of Pokemon danced in this house of powerful music. A DJ went off on the turntable as several other musicians played their instruments with almost robotic precision. Nearby, a few bartenders were performing their intricate dance, expertly flinging and pouring drinks into mixers and shaking drinks up into unique combinations.

Blaziken navigated Roserade towards a set of tables. Roserade then remembered that some clubs, especially in Dariquin, have restaurants on the upper floors. The two were met with the maitre-de. After initially being refused, Blaziken told him,

"Me and her are part of Seishin Chikyū's group." Hearing this, the maitre-de let them in and guided them around the restaurant, and pointed them to a large booth in a corner. Several gorgeous women surrounded a blue, amphibian-like Pokemon with thick arms that nearly stretched the whole booth, yet didn't appear out of proportion. That just went to show how large he was. Two orange gills were on his cheeks in addition to two fins on his head, similar to fans. This Swampert was talking to all of these women, laughing, cheering, and drinking alongside the models next to him.

Swampert then waved towards Blaziken,

"HEY! SIERRA! COME 'ERE!" Blaziken nodded and helped Roserade towards the booth, who asked,

"Care to explain why I'm here?" Hearing this, Swampert then explained,

"Oh, you must be the special gal!" he turned to the women next to him and told them regrettably,

"Sorry ladies. Senshi business." The women sighed but stood up and walked away as Roserade sat down to Swampert's right. Once they sat down, Blaziken explained,

"Keep this meeting on the down-low. I can't in good conscience leave you alone with the Phantom Corp on your back." Of course, Roserade nodded and ordered herself an appetizer.

Swampert and Blaziken caught up with each other rather quickly. It had been nearly a full year since they saw each other last. Once they finished, Swampert then began to question Roserade's predicament. Blaziken explained everything, to which Swampert responded,

"Good Arceus," before turning to Roserade and asking, "Wanna drink, food, anything? It's all on me." A sentence he was very used to saying, albeit in a much less serious context. Quietly, Roserade nodded and faded into the background.

"Anyway, we've got guys all over the city to make sure she's safe," said Blaziken.

"I'd say that's pretty good. But you know you can't stick with her forever. You still got that party to go to," responded the water type. Blaziken smacked her head,

"That's right. Damn it! I completely forgot about that. I need to pick out a dress for that."

"Don't worry. I know a few friends. I can get you a dress, no problem," said Swampert, who made a phone gesture with his hands. With a seductive smirk, Blaziken then flirted,

"Thanks. Say, there's no saying Sceptile will be there. I could use a date." Laughing this off with a wave of his hand, Swampert shook his head,

"Nah, those rich bastards and I have very different tastes in parties. I need booze! I need music! I need women! That is a party. Not the hors d'oeuvres or whatever the fuck they are called."

"Alright," Blaziken began, taking the rejection like it was nothing, "then if you aren't coming, you'll need to keep an eye on Roserade here. The Phantom Corp is most likely looking for her. Don't let her out of your sight." Once she finished her sentence, she looked back to see Roserade watching the musicians play their songs. Swampert then nodded, gladly accepting the task.

"Don't worry about that. That's easy," he remarked. Hearing his blase answer, Blaziken scowled,

"This is serious, Seishin! The Phantom Corp is extremely dangerous. These guys could make Absol look like a child playing pretend." Seriousness then fell onto Swampert's face, a complete shift from his prior state of jovial celebration. Immediately, he demanded,

"Tell me everything you know about the Corp."

"Not here," Blaziken insisted, "Too many eyes and ears here. We're already playing a dangerous game by having her here with us." Knowing this, Swampert stood up and led them out of the club at a rapid pace, telling the nearest waiter,

"Make that to-go."

All three rushed towards his home on the outskirts of the city. He had chosen a log cabin within a forest that connected to the Dariquin suburbs, about three miles of forest lay within Dariquin's city limits. The log cabin was quite nice, like the ones you would go to for a Christmas vacation. Locking every door and shutting every window, Swampert then led Roserade towards the living room and told her,

"Okay, you are going to stay here, at least until we can confirm you are safe. I can get some blankets for you to sleep on the couch. Let me talk to Blaziken real quick."

"Right," said Roserade, grinning as Swampert stood up and headed into the kitchen with Blaziken.

Her mind couldn't help but wonder. So if Vida was a part of a major criminal organization, that meant that her many businesses were hiding criminal activity. But that just begs the question, how did the government not step in? They have access to tax records and how much they made. Then again, with how huge some of those companies were, especially the restaurant, Roserade suspected that money laundering was very likely. You'd probably be able to launder hundreds, if not thousands of dollars at a time without the Nihoneran Revenue Service noticing simply due to the sheer volume of profits that Vida earned.

(A/N) I have a one-shot fanfic coming down the pipeline so keep your eyes peeled.

She wished that she still had her computer so that she could do more research on Vida. But she still had her WristOn. Perhaps she could call Infernape and the others to see if they could find anything. However, when she was placed into medical care, she was given explicit instruction to remain silent on the Phantom Corp. In her current condition, she would rather not make enemies with the entire NSA. All her resources, albeit small, would give her enough information to catch up with the rest of that secret spy group. She smirked to herself. A worthwhile challenge had arrived.