บท 2: Chapter 2: Why Did the Watchog Die?
"The true cause of death for this Pokémon was a traffic accident," said the detective, desperately defending himself against Cynthia's disapproving glare.
"Ninety percent of accidental Pokémon deaths in Castelia City are caused by cars. Look at the Watchog's waist—those are unmistakable dents from a car impact. Beyond that, its lower leg muscles suffered severe tears, multiple bones were fractured, and there are a few open wounds that were stitched post-mortem. All of these indicate a classic traffic accident."
Hugo tugged at the Watchog's left leg to draw Cynthia's attention to its wounds. Since the stitches were done after death, the ghastly injuries had swollen and fused due to decay.
The sight of the mangled body made Rotom retreat into Cynthia's coat pocket, leaving only its camera lens peeking out nervously.
"Reconstructing the scene from the injuries, we can deduce the following: this Watchog was startled and darted onto the road, where it was struck by a car that couldn't brake in time. The truly fatal event, however, occurred when its hind leg was caught in the tire of a passing truck and crushed. Despite its supernatural resilience from its Normal-type attributes, such resistance pales in comparison to the brute force of a steel machine driven by gasoline. That truck driver is probably going to need a new tire."
Cynthia's expression remained grim. "How did its body end up here?"
"As a detective, I have a cooperative arrangement with the Pokémon Center. When I heard about a Normal-type Pokémon corpse that could be studied, I promptly retrieved it from the morgue and brought it to this underground clinic where I conduct research on my day off. All above board and peaceful, of course."
Hugo sounded righteous, as if the morgue's contents were simply funds he had on deposit at a bank.
"You bribed the morgue guard, didn't you?" Cynthia, knowing him all too well, wasted no time pointing it out.
Hugo laughed awkwardly but didn't deny it. "The guard there, a Yamask, is easy to deal with. It loves horror movies, so I got it an annual theater pass. Now I can access the morgue whenever I need. Pokémon make much better employees than humans; they cut through bureaucracy far more effectively."
"What are you planning to do next?"
"The experiment logs are complete. Next, I'll compare the results with injury data from live Pokémon. Thankfully, this kind of research has already been extensively studied, so there's no shortage of case files and data. By the way, based on my calculations, this Watchog died exactly 27 hours and 45 minutes ago. Later, I'll call the traffic management bureau to check if any accidents were reported during that time…"
"I meant, how are you planning to bury it?" Cynthia's voice grew sharper with each word.
Yawning lazily, Hugo replied nonchalantly, "Of course, I'll bury it. What else do you think I'm doing? I'm taking it back to the hospital. It was supposed to be cremated today, but Yamask delayed the schedule for me by a day. So by this time tomorrow, the Watchog will be ashes and resting in peace."
He clasped his hands together in a minimal gesture of respect.
But Cynthia wasn't letting him off the hook. Her stern glare pinned him in place as she pointed to the cart he was pushing. "You just walked into the hospital like this?"
"I'm returning lost property, not stealing, so of course I walked in openly," Hugo said with a wave, signaling her to relax.
"And how did you explain the Watchog? You not only bribed the guard but also tampered with the body."
"This Watchog was a wild Pokémon; otherwise, the Pokémon Center wouldn't have been handling its burial. There's no specific crime for defiling its corpse yet, so even if I were caught, the consequences wouldn't be severe. Besides, the body's wrapped in white cloth—no one can see what's inside. Hospitals often have interns in white coats pushing carts, so no one would suspect a thing. Sneaking around with a big bag would have drawn more attention."
Cynthia found his excuses infuriatingly twisted, but Hugo had already started pushing the cart out of the shrubbery, the body jostling slightly as he went.
Before heading to the hospital, Hugo paused to call back to Cynthia, "See you in an hour. There's a good café near Feathers Roost. If you need my help, we can talk there. It must've been tiring flying all the way here on your Togekiss after just landing from your flight."
He pointed to the corner of the ticket sticking out of her black coat pocket.
"It's a mission," Cynthia said seriously, her expression shifting as the shaded path cast dappled light on her face.
Hugo, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. "The Champion of Sinnoh, coming all the way to Unova to hire a down-and-out detective like me?"
"A very, very serious matter. One that concerns the dignity of the Sinnoh League," she replied solemnly.
"Surely you could've hired one of the many professional investigators closer to home. Why me?"
"When you have a case, you go to a detective. It's common sense," Cynthia said, crossing her arms as if this were an indisputable truth.
"Your detective is currently busy delivering a body to the hospital," Hugo shot back irritably as he resumed his work.
Two hours later, Hugo had efficiently wrapped up the Watchog's affairs.
He was quite pleased with himself; his hypothesis had been confirmed by the traffic bureau, which logged an accident matching his predictions. To commemorate the Watchog's contribution to forensic science, Hugo decided to name his unpublished graph on post-mortem resistance decay in Normal-type Pokémon the "Hugo-Watchog Curve," a small tribute to the Pokémon's spirit.
At the café, Hugo cheerfully shared the details with Cynthia.
"The accident that killed the Watchog happened near that famous Castelia Ice Cream Stand. It was early in the morning when traffic was light, so the car was going fast. The accident was gruesome. Though the body doesn't show it now, the Watchog lost a significant amount of blood. There's still a dark red stain on the road that won't wash away."
Cynthia ignored him, stirring her deep red pomegranate slush with mild regret for choosing that flavor.
Undeterred, Hugo continued, "Interestingly, some of the splattered blood landed on the ice cream buckets. The staff didn't realize what happened until near closing time. That's when one of them noticed their most popular flavor had gone untouched all day. When they turned the bucket around to check, they found a large, dark bloodstain!"
Bang.
The sound of Cynthia's glass slamming onto the wooden table interrupted him. She pushed her half-finished slush aside, the dark red color now far less appealing.
For Cynthia, buying Castelia Ice Cream was a staple of her visits to Unova. Listening to this nauseating story from Hugo was testing her patience. Were it any other League Champion, this might've already escalated into a spur-of-the-moment Pokémon battle.
Hugo, momentarily silenced by her reaction, noticed the café staff glancing over curiously. Still, given the dignified presence of the pair—Cynthia, ever elegant, and Hugo, despite his scruffy doctor-like attire, handsome and familiar to the café—they refrained from intervening.
"You're still not considering becoming a Trainer?" Cynthia changed the topic abruptly.
"I'm already a detective," Hugo replied easily. "If someone asked you, a League Champion, to quit and become a programmer or graphic designer, would you agree?"
"You don't have to give up being a detective. Anyone who bonds with Pokémon is already a Trainer," Cynthia argued. "Over 60% of League challengers have other jobs. I myself am also a mythologist."
At the mention of "mythologist," a flicker of complex emotion crossed Hugo's face, but he quickly masked it, shaking his head firmly.
"My work demands my full attention. Only by dedicating oneself entirely to a profession can one achieve true expertise."
Cynthia said nothing, instead lifting a rectangular case onto the table.
"Classic scenario," Hugo quipped.
"Clients often flash suitcase-sized bribes to try and get me to drop a case. It's practically confessing they've got dirty money to burn."
"Three choices. This is the fee for this mission," Cynthia said curtly, opening the case.
Inside, resting on black velvet, were three Poké Balls.
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