"Do we know who did it?"
The young Pokémon Inspector asked curiously.
"It was Mr. Nozomi," the security guard replied without hesitation. He briefly recounted how Nozomi had rushed over, encountered a group of bounty hunters at night, and effortlessly defeated them.
Hearing this, the group of League Inspectors exchanged uneasy looks.
Nozomi again.How many times had they heard that name this year?
Ever since Pewter City—then Mt. Moon, Cerulean, Grampa Canyon—it seemed every few weeks, the Pokémon Inspectors' Association would hear another report involving him.
If Nozomi were just an ordinary Trainer, they might have only felt admiration and envy.
But his case was far from ordinary. Once a member of the League's Pokémon Inspector Corps himself, Nozomi had left after being ostracized by his peers—and since then, he had soared to fame across Kanto.
That fact sat uneasily in their hearts, leaving their feelings toward him tangled with pride, guilt, and something like regret.
"Could we pay our respects to Mr. Nozomi?"
The leading Inspector finally spoke, his tone composed.
He wasn't one to be swayed by petty emotions.
Whatever their past differences, they owed gratitude to the man who had singlehandedly dealt with the Pokémon hunters in the area.If anything had gone wrong here, it would have been the League that suffered.
Besides, Nozomi's status was not what it once was.
Rumor had it he was on friendly terms with Lorelei of the Elite Four and had personal ties with their superior, Lance. Someone of that stature absolutely deserved a formal visit.
But when the head Inspector voiced his request, the guard's expression turned troubled.
"What's wrong?" the lead Inspector asked. "Is there a problem?"
"I'm afraid it's too late," the guard said. "Mr. Nozomi left the camp early this morning. But he did leave a message for you."
"A message?"
At once, every Inspector's attention sharpened.
Nozomi had left them a message?
"He said: deal with the remaining Pokémon hunters. Don't let them escape and threaten the rest of Kanto."
The words struck them silent.
Simple, yes—but filled with conviction.
Even after everything, Nozomi showed no trace of bitterness, only a sense of duty and selfless concern for Kanto's safety.
That kind of spirit humbled them—and made a few Inspectors who had once dismissed him feel a deep pang of remorse.
"Understood. We'll see it done."
The lead Inspector straightened, a weight of responsibility settling on him. One message from Nozomi, and already their morale surged anew.
While the Inspectors still spoke of him with awe, Nozomi himself was already aboard a cruise ship bound for Cinnabar Island.
He'd made good time thanks to his Aerodactyl, who'd carried him swiftly through the skies.
At first, he'd planned to travel on foot for the experience—hike to the port, then board a ferry to Cinnabar.
But things rarely go as planned.
Grampa Canyon's terrain had always been fragile, but with crowds of tourists flooding in to dig for fossils and ancient Pokémon remains, the landscape had drastically changed.
What was once rocky wasteland had turned into a sandy desert from all the displaced earth.
Wild Rock- and Ground-type Pokémon roamed freely now, blocking paths.
After enough sandstorms and sore cheeks, Nozomi had decided he'd had enough—and took the sky route instead.
Cinnabar Island—famous for its hot springs, a paradise of relaxation.
It was the height of the island's annual tourism season, and the streets teemed with visitors.
Among the vacationers were plenty of Pokémon Trainers, filling the island with laughter and liveliness.
The cheerful scene reminded Nozomi of that time Ash and his friends had arrived on Cinnabar Island for their Gym challenge—only to find there were no hotel rooms left.
He shuddered at the thought and promptly booked a room in a luxury hot spring resort.
"Mmm… Cinnabar Island really lives up to the hype."
Spearing a piece of oden on a bamboo skewer, Nozomi savored the warm, savory broth with a content sigh.
For him, life's three great joys were simple: Pokémon, his girlfriend, and food.
By sheer luck, he'd arrived just as the local Cinnabar Food Festival was being held. Sometimes, timing was everything.
After swallowing the last bite of oden, he made his way into the Cinnabar Pokémon Center.
"Good afternoon, Nurse Joy," he greeted warmly.
"Wait—are you… Mr. Nozomi?"
Joy blinked in surprise at the familiar face.
"That's right," Nozomi smiled. "Didn't think I'd be recognized so quickly."
He could feel how fame changed everything.
Back in Cerulean City, after helping take down one of Team Rocket's division heads, only Officer Jenny and the local police had really known his name. Everywhere else, he'd been just another Trainer.
But after his climactic battle with Giovanni, his reputation had spread far and wide.
Nowadays, if you asked people on the street whether they knew Nozomi, seven out of ten would raise their hands.
That was the power of fame.
"Could I… have your autograph?" Joy asked, eyes sparkling like a fangirl.
Nozomi froze. "…Huh?"
Sure, every Nurse Joy had her quirks—but this one might be the strangest yet.
And why on earth was she holding out… an egg?
Who asked for an autograph on an egg?!
Still, it was a harmless request, so Nozomi chuckled and obliged—taking the black carbon pen she offered, and neatly signing his name across the shell.
(End of Chapter)