Pokemon: Bounty Hunter Alex

Alex and the cadets escorted their Pokémon to each training facility to ensure they were doing well.

The first facility was a vast garden filled with various plants and flowers, each emitting powerful scents. Arcanine and the other canine-type Pokémon were given a scent to memorize and had to locate the source somewhere in the garden. Once they found it, they needed to bring the object carrying the scent back to the entrance before time ran out.

The faster they completed the task, the harder the scents became. Some were unpleasant, some were buried deep in the soil, and others had no lingering trail at all. To succeed, the Pokémon had to manually explore while filtering out the surrounding scents to find their target.

Arcanine had a blast racing around and retrieving scented balls. The instructor noted that most Arcanine naturally excelled at this and barely needed training, but that didn’t stop him from going all out. At the very least, Arcanine enjoyed himself.

The second facility was a sound-based training room lined with speakers emitting various noises. Raticate and the other Pokémon were each given a specific sound to memorize, then had to locate the speaker playing that sound among the many others producing different noises.

As before, they had to retrieve the correct speaker. Raticate struggled, often picking the wrong one. Sound-based tracking wasn’t his strong suit, but he refused to give up, insisting on training until he got better.

Alex respected Raticate’s determination and decided to let him continue at his own pace.

The third facility was a computer lab with multiple screens. Pokémon sat in front of a screen and had to detect any visual changes. When they noticed something different, they pressed a button beside them to see if they were correct.

It was a simple test for a complex skill.

Altaria and Frosmoth had fun with it, so Alex figured that was good enough.

The fourth facility focused on vibration detection. Similar to the second facility, it contained multiple speakers, but instead of sound, they emitted vibrations at different frequencies. The Pokémon had to isolate their assigned frequency and track its source by touch.

The speakers were hidden in objects, buried underground, or embedded in walls and ceilings.

Forretress, being highly attuned to the ground, easily located his assigned vibration. Aegislash, however, struggled to differentiate between frequencies, despite being part of the Mineral egg group.

Apparently, Ghost-types had difficulty sensing vibrations but were much better at distinguishing energy patterns. With that in mind, Alex let Forretress continue training while they moved on.

The fifth facility was designed for Water Pokémon. Their task was to locate an object hidden in a churning lake, guided only by the sound and scent it emitted. The instructor admitted that teaching Water Pokémon this way was challenging, but the method had proven effective.

Clawitzer’s eyesight was supposed to be their best trait for training, but Alex decided that tracking underwater was just as important. Since he didn’t have any other Water Pokémon, Clawitzer took on the task.

The sixth and final facility was a large, mostly empty space. Pokémon were tasked with sensing specific energies and moving to the area where they felt the energy was strongest.

They received immediate feedback—right or wrong—until they developed a certain level of accuracy.

It wasn’t an exact science, but it had been shown to improve a Pokémon’s ability to detect energy. Since energy manipulation and detection were innate skills for Pokémon, these simple drills helped refine their abilities to a usable level.

An hour later, the Pokémon were retrieved, and the long day finally ended. Alex ran home, and by the next morning, he was back at the academy for physical training.

Throughout the entire day, the easiest part of the academy was the physical training. It was held to such a low standard compared to what Alex was used to that it barely felt like training at all.

Afternoon classes would have been just as uneventful, considering his habit of learning the material ahead of time, but the personal experiences and examples shared by the teachers made them worth his attention.

The evening training, however, made spending the next year in the Police Academy worthwhile. Alex was quite satisfied with his current situation—until complications started arising.

It began two months after the start of classes when the cadets started getting comfortable with their routine. They no longer struggled with physical training, memorization for afternoon classes, or the various types of training designed for them and their Pokémon.

Alex soon noticed he was getting side-eye from a group of cadets who were considered "regulars"—not wealthy enough to afford more than three Pokémon, yet not poor enough to lack at least one Expert-ranked Pokémon. The five of them had chosen to join the Police Academy at sixteen instead of becoming trainers outside the city walls.

There was nothing shameful about their decision—the threat of death outside the city was real. But they didn’t seem like the type to go looking for trouble, so their sudden hostility toward Alex perplexed him.

"Hey, you Alex?" the biggest guy in their group of five asked.

"I am," Alex replied plainly.

"You’re Alex Wattson? The orphan who got my brother arrested?" the most vocal of the five shouted at him.

"Was your brother a caretaker at the orphanage who stole from orphans, a drug manufacturer who got caught, or a corrupt cop who protected drug dealers?"

"My brother wasn’t a corrupt cop!" the boy yelled back.

"If his name was on that ledger, then no amount of denial will fix that."

The boy suddenly threw a wild right haymaker, but Alex easily stepped back to avoid it. He could somewhat understand his rage—his brother must have seemed like an angel to him, only to be accused by some no-name orphan. It must have shattered his world.

And now, the person responsible was actually becoming a cop himself. It was ironic. It was wrong—at least, according to the logic the boy could muster. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Alex felt pity for him. Sixteen might be the legal age of adulthood in this world, but Alex remembered what he was like at sixteen. Back then, he thought dropping out of school to avoid headaches and jumping straight into professional MMA was a brilliant idea. He had been an idiot.

"He’s not a corrupt cop! You framed him!"

"I was twelve when I found a book in a drug dealer’s apartment. How the hell could I have pulled that off?"

"I don’t care if you were eight! You framed him, and you’re going to pay for it!" the boy declared before running off, his group following him.

Judging by their expressions, the other cadets in his group probably believed Alex’s version of events more than their friend’s—but ’bros before reality’ was likely a saying somewhere.

Alex pushed the incident to the back of his mind. The kid and his little group didn’t scare him—nor did their Pokémon. Their performance was average at best, while Alex consistently ranked among the top cadets.

Sure, he lost some infiltration and security exercises, but that was just bad luck. Imagine being grouped with kids who had only Adept-ranked Pokémon at best, then being forced to compete against older professional trainers who could actually give Alex a run for his money.

Alex continued with his routine until, two months later, he was suddenly mugged on his way back from school past 10 p.m.

Three burly men, each armed with a knife and wearing masks, ambushed him. One emerged from an alleyway Alex usually passed, while the other two cut off his retreat, surrounding him.

Noticing they had no Pokémon, Alex chose to avoid using his own as well. With a subtle signal from his left hand, he stopped Aegislash from intervening.

He tapped his phone, which was tucked into his breast pocket with the camera sticking out, signaling Rotom to start recording and notify Jenny about the situation.

He wasn’t a bounty hunter yet, so the laws were strict. He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to kick him out of the Police Academy. After all, he wasn’t there to learn—he was there to get a piece of paper. And in a lawful society, pieces of paper were very important.

"Give us your money, or else."

"Thank you, that was all I needed to justify self-defense," Alex said before slapping the knife out of the hands of the man in front of him.

The two behind him rushed in with stabbing motions, but Alex sidestepped to the right before turning to them, ensuring his phone captured them holding weapons.

The one on the left came at him again, gripping his knife in both hands in a low stance, careful not to drop it like the first guy.

Alex stepped forward and kicked him hard in the chest, sending the man crashing into his buddy behind him. The impact was followed by a sudden yell—Alex assumed he had been accidentally stabbed.

The first guy, now unarmed, turned and ran. Meanwhile, the one who had stabbed his own ally shoved him aside, got back up, and lunged at Alex again.

Alex slapped the knife away with his right palm and, with a step forward, drove his elbow into the man’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. The man staggered back before collapsing to his knees.

Alex had never remembered fighting tough guys like these as if they were children. He must have gotten significantly stronger with his expensive lifestyle and gravity-assisted training.

Alex lamented his financial state as the man reeled from the hit while trying to get up. So, he took out his frustration with a swift kick to the jaw, knocking him out, and simply waited for Jenny to arrive.

No more than a minute later, a pair of cops came sprinting around the corner, accompanied by a Mightyena and a Liepard.

Alex was about to give his statement, but before he could speak, one of the officers cut him off.

"Stop! You’re under arrest for assault. Get on the ground and put your hands behind your back!" the lead officer barked.

Alex quickly assessed his options before deciding to comply. Best case scenario? Another payout.

He got on the ground and placed his hands behind his back. The officers handcuffed him, lifted him up, patted him down, and confiscated his bag, phone, and belt—tossing them into a black bag before sealing it.

Then, without so much as acknowledging the two assailants who were either bleeding to death or unconscious on the street, they took him away.

They dragged him to a black car parked behind the corner they came from, covered his face with a black bag, tossed him into the truck, and drove off.

Alex was ecstatic.

He was about to get a huge payout.

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