By the time things finally settled down, Jun and Marnie were sitting across from each other in the Pokémon Center lobby.
Nurse Joy had taken the newborn for a full examination, while Ralts and Morpeko were recovering from a full day of battles.
Most of the townspeople and Kangaskhan had gradually returned to the festival as well.
What had happened outside the stadium was extraordinary, but life in Frostleaf Town hadn’t stopped because of it.
In the end, only Jun and Marnie remained in the lobby waiting for news.
Marnie sat with a cushion tucked against her stomach, watching him from the opposite sofa.
“What are you going to do?” Obviously, Jun intended to take care of the little one.
That wasn’t what she was asking.
He leaned back and considered the problem from a more practical angle.
“How much would it cost to hire you as a bodyguard for a month?” Marnie met his eyes without immediately answering.
Ralts alone had already made Jun an attractive target.
Now he also had a newborn Pokémon that, as far as either of them knew, might be completely unique.
Any researcher would want to study what had happened, and people with less academic interests would see money.
The safest choice would probably be to hand the newborn over to the Galar League.
They could protect her far better than Jun could, and giving the League something this significant would almost certainly earn him substantial support in return.
Jun knew that.
He also had no intention of doing it.
He wasn’t hostile toward the League.
If they offered him legitimate work involving wild Pokémon, research assistance, or some other reasonable task, he’d happily cooperate.
But handing over a newborn whose mother had entrusted her directly to him was different.
Especially when nobody yet understood what she was.
Even respectable research could become unpleasant once something genuinely unprecedented appeared on an examination table.
Jun wasn’t willing to gamble her safety on the assumption that every person who wanted access to her would be gentle.
Marnie didn’t ask him to justify the decision.
She simply thought for a moment and gave him a price.
“Fifty thousand Pokédollars a month.” Jun’s eyebrows rose.
“Fifty thousand?” Including his half of the tournament prize, that was almost everything he had.
Marnie seemed entirely unbothered by his reaction.
“I only started traveling this year, so technically I’m a rookie too.
But I grew up around a Gym.
If I’m traveling with you, a lot of people who might otherwise cause trouble will think twice.” That was exactly why he’d asked her.
Marnie narrowed her eyes slightly.
“That’s what you’re paying for, isn’t it?” Jun didn’t even flinch at being caught.
“Of course not.
You’re strong, you’re cute, and your company alone is worth a fortune.
The fact that you’re Piers’s sister barely crossed my mind.” Marnie gave him a cold look that said the attempt at bargaining had accomplished absolutely nothing.
“Your share of today’s prize stays with me,” she said.
“That covers the first month.” Jun sighed internally, but he wasn’t finished yet.
“The winners also get a Pokémon Egg, right?
You can have that.
How much does that take off the price?” Marnie paused.
She’d apparently forgotten about the Egg.
Nobody knew what species was inside.
The town had reportedly found it somewhere in Dappled Grove, which meant its value could range from fairly ordinary to something much more interesting.
After a little thought, Marnie tapped one finger against her chin.
“You take care of it for me.” Jun blinked.
“I don’t really know much about raising Eggs—” “I’ll pay you ten thousand Pokédollars a month.” “I can learn.” Marnie’s expression remained perfectly serious.
“Then we’re agreed.” Jun nodded, then immediately returned to the important part.
“So how much does the Egg reduce the bodyguard fee?” “I’m already paying you ten thousand a month to look after it.” “So nothing.” “So nothing.” Jun did the math in his head.
Starting next month, Marnie’s bodyguard fee would cost him fifty thousand Pokédollars, while caring for her Egg would earn ten thousand back.
That still left him needing forty thousand every month before even counting Ralts’s food, Pokéblocks, training supplies, or whatever the newborn would need.
He was going to have to start making money quickly.
Before Jun could sink too deeply into his future financial crisis, the treatment-room doors opened and Indeedee emerged pushing a small cart.
Nurse Joy followed behind her, looking perfectly composed despite everything that had happened earlier.
Ralts and Morpeko were sitting together on the cart.
The moment they spotted their Trainers, both hopped down and hurried over.
“Ra-ru~!” Ralts climbed straight into Jun’s lap while Morpeko settled comfortably against Marnie.
Nurse Joy smiled.
“Neither of them has any serious injuries.
They’re just exhausted from fighting all day, so let them rest tonight.” Jun looked toward the treatment room.
“And the little one?” “Healthy.” Nurse Joy’s smile softened.
“Surprisingly healthy, actually.
She’s only just been born, so she’s sleeping right now.” She handed Jun the Poké Ball containing the newborn.
He accepted it carefully, only to notice Nurse Joy holding her other hand out in front of him.
Jun stared at the open palm.
“What?” “One thousand five hundred Pokédollars.” He looked up.
“Medical fees,” Nurse Joy explained pleasantly.
“Marnie is a registered League Trainer, so her treatment is covered.
You aren’t.” Jun gave her a wounded look.
“I thought after everything we’ve been through, we were becoming fri—” “One thousand five hundred Pokédollars, please.” Nurse Joy’s smile never changed.
Jun fell silent for a moment, then slowly turned toward Marnie.
“Could you lend me ten thousand?
And maybe advance this month’s Egg-care salary?
I could use it to get my League registration sorted out tomorrow—” “No credit,” Nurse Joy cut in before he could develop whatever scheme was forming in his head.
“This is a Pokémon Center, not a charity fund.” Marnie, however, seemed to consider the problem seriously.
“Forget this month’s salary.
In exchange, I’ll ask my brother to write you a recommendation.” Jun immediately understood the value of that.
A recommendation from a Gym Leader would make registration considerably easier and save him a substantial part of the cost.
He nodded solemnly.
“Thank you for saving me ten thousand Pokédollars.” “You’re welcome.” Nurse Joy and Marnie looked at each other.
Nurse Joy covered her mouth and laughed.
Jun joined her.
Marnie’s lips twitched as though she wanted to smile too, but once again the expression never quite made it into existence.
Ralts looked toward Indeedee in confusion, and Indeedee returned the same bewildered stare.
Neither seemed to understand why the humans found any of this funny.
Morpeko had no such concerns.
It was already eating another electrically roasted seed, and as far as it was concerned, Marnie hadn’t laughed anyway.
In the end, Nurse Joy quietly waived Jun’s medical fee.
Technically, she probably shouldn’t have, but she’d already demonstrated that her interpretation of Pokémon Center policy became considerably more flexible whenever Jun appeared injured and broke at the same time.
Marnie called her hotel and canceled the room for the night.
She’d collect her belongings in the morning, but if Jun was paying her to keep him safe, she apparently intended to start immediately.
Cold and brutally expensive she might be, but nobody could accuse Marnie of ignoring a contract.
The Pokémon Center had plenty of guest rooms for traveling Trainers, so there was no reason to look elsewhere.
Marnie soon disappeared upstairs with Morpeko to shower and get some sleep.
Jun was about to do the same when Nurse Joy stopped him.
“Phone.” He looked at the hand she’d extended toward him.
“Should I be worried about my browsing history?” Nurse Joy gave him a flat look as she took the phone.
“I’m a Pokémon doctor, but I know enough human biology to have no interest whatsoever in whatever a teenage boy gets curious about.” Jun decided there was no good response to that.
She tapped through the phone for a few moments before returning it.
“You’re going to be responsible for Marnie’s Egg, aren’t you?
If anything seems unusual, call me.
Don’t guess, don’t experiment, and don’t wait until something becomes serious.
Raising a Pokémon from an Egg isn’t something you improvise.” So she’d overheard their conversation.
Jun checked the new contact she’d added.
Nurse Joy’s profile picture showed a little girl sitting on the belly of a round Gengar while hugging a Misdreavus and a Dreepy.
They were apparently watching a movie together in a dark room, and despite the gloomy setting, the picture itself was ridiculously cute.
Jun glanced from the image to Nurse Joy.
Apparently Frostleaf’s Nurse Joy had a weakness for Ghost-types.
That was somehow less surprising than it should’ve been.
[End of chapter]