"...And that is why we still need proper rules around the rules on transportation of pokemon despite the invention of the Pokeball," Nick finishes, sucking down a deep breath and sitting back down, taking one last chance to glance over the monstrous three-hundred-question test.

'Do they really expect kids to pass this?'

The test was harder than he expected, even though he had binged on the studying material for the past week and a half. Who the hell needs to know what material is used in Pokeballs for lining?

Rowan reaches across his office desk and takes the sheets from him before he can ruminate further. The professor splits off the multiple-choice segments and feeds them to the fax machine, which he somehow has set up to read and transcribe the answers, and he marks the short answers down on the computer by hand. Shooting Nick a wry look, the professor says, "You know, you didn't have to stand up for the verbal segment; I'm right here."

Nick smiles nervously and shrugs, "It doesn't feel right not to, even though it's been years since I was in proper school."

That's probably part of why he is so nervous. Sure, most of the questions were easy, and there were just a lot of them, but there's always that worry with tests that you can never know how much you don't know, and the pass percentage is pretty high at eighty percent. Perhaps he's getting a harder test because he's not getting a starter? That'd fit right in with one of his earlier theories that 'starters' are actually trained ahead of time to help kids not die in the wilderness and are more agreeable on average. He's pretty sure Mira would just laugh at him if he twisted his ankle in the woods, after all.

'I still need to devise a way to stop that little gremlin from hiding my socks every night. I hope she isn't doing something stupid while I take this test.'

Minutes tick by, and Nick fidgets nervously as Rowan continues to type away at his computer. Every frown as he enters an answer spikes Nick's anxiety through the roof, and he wonders if it'd be better or worse for him if he wasn't in the room. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Rowan finishes and starts printing off something. Nick holds his breath as the professor grabs the sheet and slides it across the desk…

He passed with plenty of room to spare at ninety-two percent.

Nick borderline melts in the chair, breathing out, "Holy hell, I thought I wasn't going to make it."

Rowan quirks a brow at this, saying, "It was just a test, Mr. Ward, and not a particularly hard one. With that said, there are a few areas that you could do to improve on. Your battle theory is decent, but I would make sure to double-check your knowledge of the fairy type if I were you. I'll send the relevant info to your Pokedex."

Nick numbly nods, and a little nagging part in the back of his mind immediately knows that Rowan will make sure to check on that later, too. "Yeah, please do," he responds, "How long do you think I'll have to wait for my actual license to come in?"

A faint smile graces the professor's face, and a mischievous glint settles in his eye. "Mr. Ward, you know I'm the Regional Professor, correct? The answer is…" he trails off, and a few moments later, there's a knock at the door. "Come in!"

Roseanne walks into the room, looking extra sunny today. "Good morning, Nick, Professor Rowan!" she beams, Cherrim trailing behind her and offering a quick greeting as well. It's been good to see her bouncing back so quickly. Both Nick and Rowan offer a greeting in return, and she lays a brand new trainer ID on the desk. "Have a good day now! I have to get back to the lab and run some more samples." And like that, she is gone again, slipping out the door and closing it behind her.

Nick picks up the ID, eyeing it in disbelief. Perhaps there's ink from some pokemon that works well for making IDs quickly. The glossy thing looks much like a driver's license back home, but the locations of the details are swapped around. On the front, there's a picture he doesn't remember taking, but he looks rather frazzled in it.

"Fast turnaround," Nick mutters.

'Ah, that picture must have been when I registered Mira. How did I not notice them taking a picture?'

A frown crosses his features at the thought of his near panic attack in the Pokemon Centre, but he pushes that back down to deal with it later, instead thinking about the path ahead.

'Is this real? It feels like I'm living every eleven-year-old's dream right now. I have a starter, a trainer's license, and an adventure to go on. It's just a shame about the circumstances.'

He can't help but think of his kidnappers once more. He hadn't thought much about them these last few days with everything going on. Were they involved in the theft? Did he just get on their radar early? The man they dealt with didn't seem to recognize Nick. Otherwise, he would have probably rushed to take him down once he thought he'd won, lest Nick expose what might be an interdimensional kidnapping ring, but that isn't necessarily proof of non-involvement either way. It could be simply a matter of information compartmentalization, and this guy just wasn't read in on that part of whatever organization he worked for.

Still, he revealed a fair bit, even if he didn't know it. They clearly have money for bribes to be modus operandi. He's using non-native pokemon and was hesitant to reveal it, so they are likely cross-regional and wish to hide that. The rest of his team was exactly what they needed for the break-in, so he either happened to have just the right team, and they happened to be pathetic compared to his ace on top of that, or they were on loan from his organization. Everything points towards a strong support base.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Ward?" Rowan asks, shaking Nick from his thoughts.

"Sorry, professor, I was just thinking about that man from a few days back," Nick admits, wiping his frown away, "I promise that I'm happy, truly."

A grimace spreads across Rowan's face as he shakes his head. "To think that they'd sink as low as kidnapping pokemon is disgusting. I do know you have your personal crusade, but if you see any hint of this man, I implore you to take him down as well. I'm not hopeful as to the police's chances."

"Of course. Say, that reminds me of something. How is Yuzo doing? I saw you heading out to visit him at the police station last night. Are they still looking into his story about the three pokemon that effectively held him hostage?"

Rowan huffs, turning to stare out the window. "He's doing as well as can be expected. I think he's surprised that he didn't receive a formal notice of termination, but…" he trails off, sighing and letting the silence hang for a moment. "But once the police knew what they were looking for, they went back and found faint traces of paras footsteps on the ceiling, some staravia fluff that isn't a DNA match for his, and faint traces of porygon data artifacts in the footage. It looks like his story is holding true so far."

"You're being more lenient than I thought you'd be," Nick comments.

Rowan doesn't look away from the window, although Nick can see his posture tighten. "I'm still thinking about termination," he admits, "But I'll decide when the police are done with him." Now, let's move on to less depressing topics."

The older trainer spins back around, lifts a backpack from below his desk, and puts it down with a heavy thunk. "Your performance bonus. Uncovering a criminal conspiracy is a bit more than I normally ask of my lab trainers, and exemplary performance is to be rewarded."

Nick flips open the top half, peering inside and blinking in astonishment. Inside rests a full camping set, a few spare sets of clothes, a jacket, a few Pokeballs, and a pile of water and preserved food. Now that he looks at it, that's much more than should fit inside such a small bag. He reaches in, arm engulfed all the way up to his shoulder, and feels around the confines.

It's space expansion tech. That explains how people in the games and the anime could travel around regions without big packs full of supplies for themselves and their six partners. A grin creeps across his space. It might as well be actual magic, as far as he's concerned.

He pulls out a packaged tent from the bag, marvelling as the carrying case extends past the total physical depth of the bag and beyond. Whistling, he slips it back in before a thought suddenly springs to mind. "Hey, uh, Professor? I don't have to worry about this detonating or tearing a hole into another dimension if I try to place another bag inside it, right?"

Rowan frowns and furrows his brow. "Is that a risk back in your homeland with space expansion tech, Mr. Ward?" He asks, concern written plainly on his face.

Nick's quick to shake his head. "No," he hurriedly clarifies, "We don't have any tech like this back home, just a few theories. I'm glad to hear that at least one's unfounded."

Rowan searches Nick's face for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Thankfully, that's impossible. Any expanded space conflicts with others and will refuse to go inside another one. This means that you can't place occupied Pokeballs in your bag, but inactive ones are fine as their spatial technology is actually powered by the Infinity Energy of the pokemon inside and are otherwise purely mundane materials.

Nick sighs in relief. "That's good to know."

"If they are punctured, they do tend to violently discharge their contents as the space collapses, however. The portion facing your body is reinforced to ensure any ruptures are vented away from you."

And at once, the newly minted trainer feels a bit queasy.

'And I'll be carrying around a primed and ready directional shrapnel bomb on my back. Great. It's not as if I could carry enough supplies for myself, Mira, and any other pokemon I pick up along the way otherwise, so I can't exactly say no.'

Now more gingerly, he gets up, latches the backpack closed, hefts the surprisingly light bag, and slips it on. He'd just have to be careful around sharp objects, is all. Maybe not let it touch anything too abrasive, either. A few pokemon come to mind; Sharpedo, first and foremost. He's pretty sure they have Rough Skin as an ability, as a mirror to normal sharks.

"Thank you again, professor," Nick says, tucking his new license away. "I suppose we best get up on the road before it gets too late in the day, huh?"

Rowan cracks a thin smile and nods. "Do you know which of the local gyms you plan on hitting first?" he asks.

Nick doesn't even have to think before responding, "Oreburgh, for sure." It's not even a question. He supposes it makes sense that each gym can provide a challenge for a variety of badge levels to not screw over people from the north, with Oreburgh being appropriate for badges one through four, but the real draw is that he discovered Doctor Kenzo's lab is in the city. He and Mira are awfully interested in where he's getting those 'new pokemon' from, after all.

"Ah, you'll likely be going for the traditional order for southwestern trainers, then?" Rowan asks but doesn't pause to wait for an answer, "I'll expect bi-weekly check-ins, even if it's only a quick text document sent through the GPS app's text function, Mr. Ward. Now, I'll let you gather your group and start your adventure."

Gather his group? Nick hopes Mira hasn't taken off anywhere; if she decided to disguise herself as a pile of leaves and nap somewhere, they'd probably be delayed hours. With a final quick "I'll be seeing you, professor," Nick heads towards the door, opening the door only to see Mira sitting in the hall right outside. "Ah. I suppose you were listening in, huh?"

"Uaa-Zor," she says, nodding, eyes flicking to his new backpack.

He shrugs, closes the door to Rowan's office behind him, and heads back towards Rowan's half of the building to pack up what few things he has, Mira hurrying to keep even with him. "They're probably pretty durable," he reassures her, "Besides, it's not as if we have much of a choice if we don't want to slow to a crawl by foraging as we go."

"Zor…" she trails off into silence, and after that brief stop, the pair of them walk out the front door. A few steps out, and they stop. Across from them stands Lucas, a wide smile on his face and Chimchar at his side.

The quartet look at each other in silence for an uncomfortably long moment. "I don't think we have time for one last battle before we go, unfortunately," Nick says empathetically, letting the pair down gently.

Lucas blinks. "What? No, I heard that you're leaving, and I want to come with you," he says.

"Absolutely not," he authoritatively states. The risk is too great for both Lucas and Nick. For all he knows, his kidnappers might end up targeting the kid, and if he actually lets any details about his home slip, he might accidentally leak them and draw their attention.

'How the hell did he even hear about this? I just finished my test!'

"Oh, come on!" Lucas begs, both he and Chimchar dramatically dropping onto their knees in sync and clasping their hands together. "Please?"

"No," Nick repeats.

"It's just a few weeks until my birthday, and then I can go out alone! All the pros get an early start on the season so they can snag a slot at a gym when it first opens for registration rather than getting caught in the rush."

"Still no."

"Just think, you'll ensure me and Chimchar's futures as trainers! Besides, we can help you plenty, too! Having someone to train against would help you two a lot."

He does make a good point there, at least. Until he actually has a second pokemon on his team, he has nobody to train Mira against, and if she is put out of action by battling random wild pokemon he would be entirely defenceless. Sure, he could just catch the first starly he sees, but it doesn't feel right somehow, nor does he expect they'd provide her a challenge.

Pouncing on his momentary indecision, Lucas continues, "Besides, I bet that you'd like a guide, too. I've been all over southern Sinnoh with my parents!"

Nick sighs, "You've only known me for a bit more than a week and some change, Lucas."

"Yeah, and the first two days had you wander out of the woods and solve a break-in that the police couldn't, so you seem pretty cool. Besides, I already got permission from my parents to go out and travel with an adult and got them to sign a form. If I don't go with you, I'll start asking random people on the street." At that, Lucas fishes out a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolds it, offering it to Nick. The PI feels his heart drop, a frown crossing his features.

'Surely he wouldn't do that, right? Any random stranger could say yes, escort him off into the woods, and make sure he is never seen again.'

He gingerly takes it, reading over a form that seems to be legit, and a quick search on his Pokedex confirms that the form that it's a real thing here, and the only thing that's missing is a signature from himself and a stamp from a Pokemon Centre.

Nick glances up at Lucas, meets his rather determined gaze, and cringes.

'Yep. He absolutely would.'

Admittedly, he's making a good argument, disregarding the emotional blackmail. It is strange that his parents would sign off on this without even meeting Nick personally, but perhaps he's reading too much into it, and that's just the way it is here with pokemon to temper folk. Besides, it's not as if he plans to do any particularly risky investigation for the next few weeks; by the time he starts doing things that might bother his and Mira's kidnappers, Lucas'd be long gone.

He looks down at Mira, a look on her muzzle as if she bit into a lemon. "Any particular objections? I know it wasn't in our original plans, but he might be helpful," he asks her, and after a long moment, she shakes her head in response. "Fine," he finally agrees, fumbling around in his pockets, "Now, where's my pen…"

Lucas cheers before taking the sheet back and saying, "It has to be signed at the Pokemon Centre; otherwise, it's invalid. Sorry."

Nick takes a sharp breath. "Great. Let's get this done, then you grab your supplies, and we'll meet by the north exit. You do have supplies ready, right?" The teen nods.

The detour through town is quick, even if the brief jaunt into the Pokemon Centre is as terrifying as last time, and after a quick stop at a store for last-minute supplies and an apartment complex for Lucas' things, the two of them are ready to go, although Nick can't help but notice that Lucas' parents didn't come out to say goodbye.

Soon enough, they're at the north exit, with a sign reading, "You are now leaving Sandgem Town. We hope to see you again soon!" and a sign just a bit further down the path reading simply, "Route 202."

Nick tries to think of something meaningful to say as the two pass the gate, it feels like he should, but nothing comes to him, and the moment passes as they begin their adventure proper.

"My poor legs," Lucas groans, slumping against a tree beside the path.

Nick smiles and chuckles, even if his legs are aching, too; he'd take this over long days marching around on retail floors any day of the week. "And this is where you learn the importance of cardio," he teases, settling down nearby.

Lucas shoots an icy glare at him.

"What? I'm just saying," Nick says, "Besides, this will only get easier the more you do it. Think of your burning calves as an investment in not collapsing on the side of the road in the future, that's all."

Ignoring his comment entirely, the kid pulls out his Dex, glancing at it before saying, "I think it's time to eat anyhow; it's almost one." At once, without waiting for a response, he started digging away in his backpack, hoisting out a bag of some Pokemart brand Poke-Food and a sandwich.

Nick's quick to follow suit. Getting himself comfortable, he pours Mira a bowl of strange nutrient-dense kibble with some fresh berries on the side, and gets himself a sandwich. "Mira, lunch," he says, lazily releasing her from her ball beside him.

The zorua is tense for a moment, fur bristling as she pivots around, looking for any hostiles, before summarily calming down once she catches sight of Nick casually sitting. "Lunchtime," he reiterates, gesturing toward the bowl. She looks at it, her muzzle scrunching up, before looking at his sandwich.

Their eyes meet, and he sees mischief flash in her gaze. He whips his hand back, just fast enough to avoid his sandwich getting snatched away by her pilfering muzzle. "Oi! That's my lunch, not yours!" he yells, tossing the sandwich back into the bag to get it out of reach of any follow-up attacks.

That doesn't stop her from trying. She dives past him, bowling him over onto the soft ground as she goes for the bag. Dropping her stance low for a split second, she springs up and dives at the opening head first, evidently having rapidly gotten over her squeamishness about the backpack. Alas, the opening wasn't designed with four-foot-tall foxes in mind, and her muzzle catches on the inside of the bag, stuck with the sandwich well out of reach at the bottom.

Nick beholds her, frozen in place, and asks, "Are you done now?" This turns out to be a mistake, as she bolts back upright with the bag still stuck on her face, eyes peeking around the corners. Much like a mundane cat with something on her face, she starts backing up, whipping her head from side to side as she tries to dislodge the traitorous bag to no avail. He hears the sound of the bag's contents shifting and cringes, rushing over to try and get it off. "Here, let me just deal with that."

He leans down and grabs the bag, but the zorua jerks her head to the side, sending his world spinning as he's thrown down onto the soft ground with surprising force. Wheezing — the air knocked out of his lungs from the impact — he mutters a few muffled curses before climbing back to his feet, still looking at the rapidly retreating zorua. "Mira! Just let me help!" he calls, running over. Defiance sparks in her gaze, and she starts backing up more rapidly, shaking her head frantically from side to side to try and dislodge the bag. Alas, she somehow has managed to get the straps hooked behind her ears like a bizarre feedbag, and the effort is useless.

Running after her, the two lock eyes for just a moment as he crouches down, clear incredulity filling her eyes. 'Surely he wouldn't do that,'she must be thinking.

But he is. Nick pounces at her like a house cat at an unsuspecting foot, the zorua only getting a split second to wheel before he's on her. He wraps his arms around the zorua's middle from behind and rolls them both onto the grassy ground, holding her flailing form with one hand as he unhooks the bag from her ears with the other.

It takes a moment as she writhes and kicks, but he manages to get the bag straps off her head, letting it fall free with a thunk. "There!" he says, releasing her and sitting up. He glances around and notices they got close to a slope into a five-foot-deep pit during their little pointless scuffle.

'That was awfully close. Damned brat nearly got us both hurt.'

More him, he supposes; he can't picture that fall hurting her much.

He looks over to Mira, now back on her paws, and a malicious gleam in her eyes. "What? I just wanted to eat my lunch; you started it," he comments, raising an eyebrow.

That is not the right thing to say, he figures out, as she crouches into a pouncing stance, tail drifting from side to side.

"Now, let's talk about this," he says, casting an uneasy glance back towards the hole behind him. "I was just trying to help you."

She waggles her tail and her stance drops deeper, eyes locking onto him.

"I'm sure we can figure—" his breath is knocked out of him as he takes a direct tackle from a four-foot-tall fox, knocking him backwards; momentary terror shoots through him, and his heart thunders as he feels himself enter free fall… only to hit the ground a fraction of a second later, landing roughly on his back a few inches lower than prior. Looking sideways, he sees the hole is entirely gone, an illusion flickering and fading away.

Vulpine laughter echoes throughout the clearing, and Nick pivots to stare up at the victorious Mira perched upon his lap. He frowns, staring up at that smug look on her face. At that moment, if there was really a drop, he suspects he would have been entirely okay with throwing them both down to wipe the smile off her face. An idea flashes into his mind. "Fine, fine," he says, trailing off, grabbing his bag and looking inside it. Everything's a bit rattled around but intact… and the sandwich that started all this looks a bit squished but more or less edible. No extra bite marks are on it, at least.

Nick reaches in and grabs the sandwich, fishing it out. Mira stares at her prize, licking her lips. He keeps a carefully maintained frown on his face as he reaches out towards her, eyes locked… and then she makes a mistake; she raises a leg to step forward, putting her off balance.

Nick whips his body around, tossing her off with a loud yelp as he rolls face down, his face barely off the ground and shielding it with one arm, sandwich in the other as he stuffs his face as fast he can.

Mira tries to pull his shielding arm away with her muzzle, and she easily succeeds thanks to her inhuman strength, but whenever she releases it to get at her object of obsession, he rolls and pulls his arm back, and it's a race against time that she loses as he finishes eating in short order.

Roughly gulping the last large bite, he sits back up, a wide smile on his face. But Mira doesn't pout or huff. No, she looks almost proud of him. "Zor!" she calls happily, and he can't even begin to interpret the meaning other than her being pleased. Is she liking him having a spine? Was it just a game?

'Damned pain in the ass.'

Nick schools his face into a scowl, saying, "Don't do that," in a flat tone, but he can't muster the energy to try and lecture her, and it's not as if she'll listen, anyhow. The zorua merely snickers, something that's mimicked by someone nearby.

'Oh no.'

Nick whips his head around, and Lucas stands there, biting his cheeks to muffle a laugh. Chimchar is by his side, casually munching on his lunch, tossing individual pieces of Pokemix into his mouth like popcorn. Almost menacingly, Lucas holds his Pokedex high, the camera pointed directly at the two of them. "Don't mind me," the teen taunts, "Just keep doing what you're doing."

"That better not end up online," Nick hisses, standing himself back up and brushing the dirt, leaves, and strands of grass from his clothing. Meanwhile, Mira walks back over to her bowl with a spring in her step and marches without complaint, munching away on her meal.

"Why not? There are worse things than," Lucas begins, pausing momentarily with a snort while he tries to fight down a laugh, "bonding with your pokemon. What, is the big strong detective afraid of being called a softie?" He taps a few more buttons before packing his Dex away, and panic momentarily shoots through Nick before he remembers that they lost internet service quite some time ago.

Nick takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, repeating a mantra of "He doesn't know" in his mind. "I'd rather prefer to remain under the radar for now," Nick responds.

At that admission, Mirth and curiosity light in Lucas' eyes. "Why, are you the member of a crime syndicate from another region, on the run from the law or something?" he asks, and Nick opens his mouth to respond, but Lucas keeps going. "You said you woke up in the woods with no idea how you got there or where home is, right? Doesn't getting famous and having a bunch of eyes on you help? I mean, we put a call for help in the video description, and someone might recognize where you came from. Can-something, right?"

"Canada," Nick says.

"Right, Canada! Even if it only gets a few thousand views, someone might know something."

'That's surprisingly thoughtful and, under normal circumstances, a good idea. I can't just blab my situation to him, not even the half-truth that I gave the professor, so how should I deal with this?'

"You're right that someone might know," he explains, "But my situation is a bit strange, and there are some details I'm not allowed to share right now. Rowan knows all about it, but please, everything's a lot easier for me if I keep a low profile for now."

Lucas' face scrunches up as he thinks that over, until eventually sighing. "Fiiiine. I guess you were nice enough to bring me along. I can sit on this viral gold mine until you're famous already."

"Yeah, that's alright," he hastily agrees, "Feel free to post it once I start getting branded merchandise or whatever." Not that he expects that will ever happen, he isn't exactly going to seek out brand deals any time soon. Having an out condition to the deal may make Lucas less likely to just go ahead and post it regardless of his wishes, at least.

"Got it! No complaining when I post it when you're a big shot, then, okay?"

Nick merely rolls his eyes and leans against a tree, before adding, "Go eat your lunch." A laugh is all he gets in response as Lucas digs into his own rations.

Soon enough, Mira finishes her meal and plods over to where he's standing, curling up a few feet away on a warm-looking rock bathed in sunlight.

'What came over me there? She mauled me almost two weeks ago now, on my first day here, and I thought it was a good idea to wrestle with her. Perhaps interdimensional travel rattled something in my brain and destroyed my sense of self-preservation.'

It's all the more surprising that she was so happy about losing. He supposes that she is still a first stage pokemon, after all, so perhaps some amount of playfulness is to be expected, despite her general demeanour otherwise.

He sighs, closing his eyes and shutting the world out. He misses when life was simple, and all he had to do was focus on paying his debt to the world.

A bush nearby rustles and Nick's eyes shoot back open and lock onto the source. Mira's up and at it, too, cracking an eye lazily toward the sound. The thick underbrush rustles, something climbing through it. "Hold fire," Nick mouths to Mira, who nods.

Nick recalls his worried shouting earlier and frowns, realizing belatedly that he might have rung the dinner bell for anything nearby. He tries to remember a list of any threats in the area but comes up blank, the zone being labelled fairly 'low risk.' Of course, to alert Lucas might scare it off, but anything so easily cowed would likely not target a group anyhow. It was closer to him, anyhow, and he'd much rather have the first shot should it be something dangerous rather than perhaps a curious bidoof.

He and Mira tense, ready for action, and then a blue and yellow head pops through the brush. The small feline calls out a "Shi-nx!" once, drawing the attention of the other two inhabitants of the clearing.

"Whoa, is that a shinx?" Lucas asks, pulling out his Pokedex and scanning it, "It is! Chimchar, get ready!" At his side, the monkey strides forth, beating his chest.

The feline flinches but steps out into the clearing regardless, walking back and forth before whining out, "Shi…" Its ears droop low as it lowers itself to the ground.

Chimchar and Lucas freeze, the latter asking, "Hey, what gives? Do you want to be caught?"

In response, the small cat-like pokemon hisses, and its tail whips violently. It jumps back to its feet before facing the bush, head pointing towards where it came from. Then, it looks over its shoulder back to them.

"You want us to follow you?" Nick cuts in.

The feline eagerly nods, gesturing back toward the woods while making a worried-sounding call.

'I don't know about this one; it feels like a trap.'

A quick glance at Mira confirms she shares his thoughts of unease on the matter.

Alas, Lucas and Chimchar are already following the small feline into the woods, eagerly jogging up to it, letting it lead them off without a second thought. "Hey, hold on, let's think about this for a second!" Nick calls after them as they start climbing into the brush.

"Shinx is in distress and clearly needs our help! What type of lab trainers would we be if we didn't help a pokemon in need?" Lucas responds, casting a glance back to Nick, "That's the duty of a good trainer!"

Mira and Nick share one last exasperated look before tensely following the trio deeper into the wilderness after but a moment to retrieve Nick's belongings.

'This kid is going to be the death of me...'