Pokémon Detective Case Files

Chapter 354 Detoxification – Eclipse of the Night

Chapter 356 Detoxification – Eclipse of the Night

Power only favors those who dare to bend down and pick it up.

As the vice president and general manager of the Pokémon League Unova division, Lionel Skolatos had long since learned to use the word "forgotten" to gloss over the power struggle seventeen years ago—at least in public, this explanation was as flawless as his always impeccably pressed silver-gray suit.

The contest was procedurally fair, but in retrospect, the outcome seems predetermined—

During the eight-month competition, he, in the prime of his life, moved among the neon lights of Feiyun City, mingling with the sponsors of the conglomerates.

He would deliver impassioned speeches to stubborn alliance officials, peddling grand plans for digital reform; or he would grovel before his political enemies, making political promises in an attempt to win over opponents and grassroots public opinion. Meanwhile, his opponent, that conservative elder who always wore an old-fashioned tuxedo, was quietly updating the trainer allowance terms.

Damn basic benefits—he certainly wanted to include this important prey in his personal achievements, but unfortunately his rank and seniority were too weak at the time, which excluded him from this privilege.

In this world where seniority matters, there are no shortcuts to instant success.

Ultimately, the ambitious young man failed to win the favor of the former president, nor did he gain the recognition of the Ardek champion.

Having lost his two largest strongholds, his slogans became nothing more than empty rhetoric, and all his efforts, like bubbles, crashed against the reefs of reality, leaving only the mark of a loser on the vote-counting boards.

On that long table where fate was decided, the former president of the United States pushed the appointment letter announcing the internal vote results to the other end of the table, while he could only watch helplessly as it all unfolded.

It must be said that adult decency is a honey soaked in poison.

Lionel still remembers the tightness of his hand as he clapped, the precise tremor of each syllable in his congratulatory speech, and can even reproduce the perfectly timed smile when he received the letter of appointment as the chief of general affairs.

It wasn't until late at night, when everything had settled down, that he realized with a start that in the empty office, the man reflected in the long black table was gnawing on his knuckles.

Behind him, the Natural Bird belatedly chirped, and the Mutant Dragon revealed its true form from the transparent air, while the Clay Giant looked at him with concern.

People often don't feel sad immediately when they lose something important; they only feel endless regret when they come to their senses.

This setback will ultimately only become a sigh that drifts into the night sky when middle-aged people dream of it.

Lionel is not an arrogant person. Having spent years navigating the intricate web of relationships within the league, the daily grind has worn down his sharp edges.

But those nights filled with setbacks constantly reminded him that some failures are something you only need to experience once in your life.

"Tell me, when was the last time you met with Quixote?"

Hugo looked down at Lionel Sklatos, who was lying on his back, his gaze sweeping over the man's gray suit, which was scorched by flames.

When he caught a glimpse of the shirt badge peeking out from under the vice president's tattered suit, the newly crowned Unicron Champion's face lit up with realization. "Scolatos is indeed a rare surname." He knelt down on one knee.

"Let me guess, did that Plasma Sage bewitch you with the rhetoric of reviving family glory? Forgive my bluntness, but it's foolish to gamble your life on the bloodline theory of Quetzalcoatl—glory and dignity don't flow in your veins and heart, and even he himself doesn't believe that rhetoric."

Lionel's lips remained tightly pressed together, but the veins on his forehead twitched slightly. Seeing this, Hugo stood up, deliberately drawing out his words—

"I say, Mr. Vice President, in my opinion, your choice is really unwise. If I were in your position, rather than hoping that the revival of the ancient dynasty can realize your political ambitions, you would be better off sticking to the position of Vice President of the Alliance for a few more years—with your qualifications, you might actually be able to climb to the position of President of the Alliance."

"Ha—seniority."

As if unable to bear it any longer, the middle-aged man suddenly burst into laughter. His knowing attitude, in turn, confirmed his collusion with Quixote.

"In this white castle built by the Alliance bureaucrats, all the gears operate according to rank and seniority. We look at this seemingly impenetrable world and assume that such rules will continue to function forever. But you newcomers have no idea—only those who built the castle know just how fragile these rules that keep the Alliance running are."

He struggled to prop himself up—"Perhaps, at some point, someone will kick a crucial part, and the entire building will collapse like a child's sandcastle—today is the 123rd year of the Alliance calendar, right? One hundred and twenty-three years is an age near death for humanity; enough time for any institution to develop cancerous tissue. While you're busy painting and whitewashing the rotten pillars, someone has already prepared the blueprints for demolition and reconstruction."

"Please don't glorify cowardice as foresight," Hugo said with a disdainful sneer.

"What do you mean by 'building a sandcastle'? You're just playing both sides, observing from the sidelines. The interrogators will settle the score with you later. What I'm asking you now is..." Hugo suddenly lowered his voice.

"Did that Quixote know about the murder you committed here? I believe that by now, you have no reason to continue hiding your motives."

"You're right, then I'll tell you the truth." Lionel's Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally obediently nodded his head.

"This murder was indeed ordered by Ghetsis, and he taught me the poisoning method. He wanted me to eliminate Akromar because the scientific ideas he brought might shake the foundation of the Plasma Group's rule in the future, and it had to be nipped in the bud. The reason for choosing to commit the crime inside the Alliance Building was to smear the United States Alliance... and you, the new champion."

"Sigh, you may not know my profession before I became a champion, but you don't need to make up such a clumsy lie, do you?"

Hugo shook his head and raised his hand in a pause gesture—"Leaving aside Akromar's importance, given Ghetsis's power within the Plasma Group, why would he need to use someone else to eliminate an internal member? Nor would he expose a high-ranking member of the Alliance for this. Only a leader familiar with the Alliance's internal structure and the operational patterns of its personnel could devise such a deadly method of poisoning."

The detective's fingertips traced an invisible blueprint in the air: "Within the entire alliance, only you, in charge of the General Affairs Department, have the authority and knowledge to this extent. All the evidence points to this crime being a one-act play you wrote and directed from beginning to end."

"No! Quixote is deliberately trying to slander the Alliance! Someone like me is utterly insignificant to him! As for the inside information needed to orchestrate the poisoning, I was the one who gave it to him!"

Lionel suddenly became excited and almost pounced on the champion, which made Hugo glad that he had kept his distance from the criminal beforehand.

"Besides, if everything were as you say, what reason would I have to risk my reputation to murder Akromar, who is also an ally of Team Plasma?"

The vice president's tone was almost pleading.

"You know the truth yourself," Hugo said calmly, looking the other person into the eyes.

"But since you insist, I won't pry any further. After all, everyone has an untouchable abyss in their heart."

The Unova Champion seemed to have come only to confirm something. Having ascertained that the secret Lionel wanted to protect was unrelated to his purpose, he didn't linger and left the room with the two Elite Four members. Before leaving, the two Elite Four members also confiscated Lionel's clay golem.

The door slammed shut.

In the empty room, only the last vestiges of a middle-aged man's dignity remained—and a half-uttered murmur drifting in the wind.

"...It seems there's a rumor that Vio lost his place among the Seven Sages after his defeat at the hands of the Blueberry."

Apart from the champion and the vice president, no one else in the room heard that half-sentence.

Footsteps echoed again in the distance, the sound of many pairs of leather boots pounding in the corridor.

They must be people sent by the Alliance's Internal Affairs Department to continue interrogating him; their minister's name was something like Gade. Gloria insists on calling that department the Security Department, saying the original name had a bit of a White Terror feel to it—ha, what a self-deceiving act.

Thinking meaninglessly like this.

In a daze, tears from seventeen years ago streamed down Lionel Skolatos's face.

Why did he plan to commit murder?

Still need to ask?

Of course, it's because he really, really doesn't want to lose again.