Spikemuth, Residential Area.

  Shiro searched through his home, going over the already ransacked areas once again, but he only found some basic supplies.

  "Ha..."

  He sat down heavily oorn up sofa, rubbing his head as he tried to remember any important pces.

  After resting for a while, he couldn’t think of anything signifit, so he gave up on expeg to find any treasures from that dead father. Even if there had been something valuable, it was likely long gone by now.

  He got up and walked over to the door, checked that it was locked, and then moved through the downstairs rooms, closing all the windows.

  The courtyard gate didn’t o be locked, as the wall around the yard wasn’t high, and anyone could easily climb over it.

  What worried Shiro most were the rge gss windows. There were nr bars or anything, and if someohrew a stone and shattered them, a group of people could easily rush in.

  He had a feeling that danger was ing soon.

  The blue-feathered Rookidee on the white table was curled up into a little ball, soundly asleep, feeling safe in its current enviro.

  Shiro piled some food he had found, such as bread and berries, onto the table. He also pced a bowl with water o Rookidee, hoping it would eat when it woke up.

  Now, besides Rookidee, Shiro only had a small 15 timeter knife. He hadn’t found any other sharp tools.

  After closing all the doors around the living room, he shoved some bread into his mouth.

  If anyone came in to rob him again, and was able to break down the door, he would be ready to react immediately.

  "Rook!"

  Rookidee suddenly opes eyes, jumped off the white table, and tried to fly.

  Unfortunately, its broken wing on the right still his movement, and after fpping a couple of times, it eventually nded ba the table.

  "Eat something." Shiro said, pushing the bread and berries towards the bird.

  Rookidee g his face, then without hesitation, it bent down and began peg at the berries.

  After applying the healing spray, Rookidee's broken wing still needed a day to recover and it wouldn't be able tain its bat strength, the kind that could crush an average human right away.

  If there was an attack, Shiro would have to figure something out himself.

  "Rook! Ki! Ki!"

  Rookidee raised its head and chirped sharply, its eyes focused on the door.

  It had been trained as a target and had its wing broken, but its sensory abilities had grown strohrough stant evasion. It could easily hear the growing otion outside.

  Seeing this, Shiro instinctively stood up, gripping the knife handle and asked Rookidee, "Is a group of people ing?"

  "Rook!" Rookidee nodded and tried to fly again.

  Shiro pressed it bato the white table and sternly ordered, "Rest first. If you try to fly while your wing is still injured, it will only worsen your dition."

  "Bang, bang, bang..."

  There came a series of loud bangs on the door, followed by shouting.

  "Is Shiro home? We o talk, e out!"

  "They won't get in so easily. You should return to your Poké Ball." Shiro said, taking out a Poké Ball.

  Rookidee looked bad forth between the Poké Ball and Shiro, hesitating.

  It khat the people outside had ill iions. If it hid in the Poké Ball and Shiro went out to fight and got hurt, it might lose the trainer who had treated it so kindly.

  In the short time it had been here, this was the most fortable moment for Rookidee since arriving in Spikemuth.

  "Rook! Ki! Dee!"

  Rookidee shook its head, spreading its wings to signal that it was ready to fight.

  Shiro fell silent. Rookidee was still too weak and couldn't fly. He didn’t want to involve the injured bird in the fight. After all, the little guy was more of a burden right now, but also his key source of support for the future.

  "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

  The sound of more intense banging broke Shiro's thoughts. The crowd outside was getting more urgent. The voices were clearly audible through the quiet room.

  "Is there no one in there?"

  "How could that be? Uncle Rabby just gave him a Pokémon. Where could he have gone?"

  "Hey! I just went to the bad checked. All the windows and everything are locked..."

  "He’s inside! He knows we're ing! He’s probably behind the door!"

  "If the front door won’t open, break the window!"

  The side abruptly stopped, followed by the rapid shuffle of footsteps.

  Shiro didn’t have time to hesitate anymore. He quickly aking Rookidee in his arms, and made his the stairs to a er.

  The sound of gss shattering rang out repeatedly. The loud noises clearly ehe room.

  The intruders had already made it into the guest room. Though the door was locked, it was much thihan the front door. With a few people w together, they could easily break it open.

  "Boom boom boom!"

  The weak wooden door trembled uhe force, its surfatermittently bending outward.

  Less than half a mier, with the sound of the first splinter of wood breaking, the entire door was torn open in the middle, and several figures dressed in dark clothing rushed through.

  "Quick! Whets to it first gets the Pokémon!"

  "Damn it, don’t steal from me!"

  The two men at the doorway were pushed aside and the others didn’t care at all, stepping over their bodies as they rushed forward.

  There were seven of them in total. One y motionless in front of the door, while aruggled to get up, looking weak and uo move much.

  The remaining five split up, searg the first floor and opening each locked door one by one.

  Shiro crouched behind the staircase er, his body hidden behind overpping handrails, watg the group through the gaps in the railing.

  Among them, a young man in a short-sleeved shirt, with short hair and covered in bck mud, sed the surroundings before charging up the stairs without hesitation.

  To him, it was highly probable that Shiro was hiding on the sed floor, trying to escape while they were wasting time on the first floor.

  If he could catch Shiro first ahe Poké Ball, he would have his own Pokémon!

  The short-sleeved youth paid no attention to the stairs beh his feet, and just as he was about to step around the er, a shadow flickered in his peripheral vision.

  Instinctively, he leaned back, but the sharp pain in his waist and abdomen told him he hadn’t fully avoided the attack.

  Shiro’s intended fatal strike to his neck had missed, so he redirected and thrust the ko his waist.

  “You… Shiro! You bastard…”

  The short-sleeved youth reached out his arm, but before he could finish his sentehe knife was yanked from his waist, spurting blood as it ulled free.

  As he was about to shout, a small blue bird fell from the stairs, its iron like beak plunging straight into his neck, sileng him food.

  “Shiro! Shiro is over there!”

  A sharp eyed long-haired man, still holding a piece of bread, poi Shiro by the stairs.

  The other three, still rummaging through the rooms, immediately sprang from their ers and surrouhe base of the stairs.

  But Shiro kicked the short-sleeved youth’s lifeless body down, sending it rolling straight toward the others.

  The bloodstains and wide, lifeless eyes froze the four in pce, leaving them too stuo move.

  Shiro, holding Rookidee in his arms and the knife in his other hand, stared coldly at the group.

  He couldn’t afford to lose Rookidee.

  Today, either he died, these people escaped, or they would all lie here forever.

  **

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