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 on the torn up sofa, rubbing his head as he tried to remember any important places.
After resting for a while, he couldn't think of anything significant, so he gave up on expecting 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 need to be locked, as the wall around the yard wasn't high, and anyone could easily climb over it.
What worried Shiro most were the large glass windows. There were no burglar bars or anything, and if someone threw a stone and shattered them, a group of people could easily rush in.
He had a feeling that danger was coming soon.
The blue-feathered Rookidee on the white table was curled up into a little ball, soundly asleep, feeling safe in its current environment.
Shiro piled some food he had found, such as bread and fruits, onto the table. He also placed a bowl with water next to Rookidee, hoping it would eat when it woke up.
Now, besides Rookidee, Shiro only had a small 15 centimeter fruit 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 opened its eyes, jumped off the white table, and tried to fly.
Unfortunately, its broken wing on the right still hindered its movement, and after flapping a couple of times, it eventually landed back on the table.
"Eat something." Shiro said, pushing the bread and fruits towards the bird.
Rookidee glanced at his face, then without hesitation, it bent down and began pecking at the fruits.
After applying the healing spray, Rookidee's broken wing still needed a day to recover and it wouldn't be able to regain its combat 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 stronger through constant evasion. It could easily hear the growing commotion outside.
Seeing this, Shiro instinctively stood up, gripping the knife handle and asked Rookidee, "Is a group of people coming?"
"Rook!" Rookidee nodded and tried to fly again.
Shiro pressed it back onto the white table and sternly ordered, "Rest first. If you try to fly while your wing is still injured, it will only worsen your condition."
"Bang, bang, bang..."
There came a series of loud bangs on the door, followed by shouting.
"Is Shiro home? We need to talk, come out!"
"They won't get in so easily. You should return to your Poké Ball." Shiro said, taking out a Poké Ball.
Rookidee looked back and forth between the Poké Ball and Shiro, hesitating.
It knew that the people outside had ill intentions. 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 comfortable 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 back and checked. All the windows and everything are locked..."
"He's inside! He knows we're coming! He's probably behind the door!"
"If the front door won't open, break the window!"
The noise outside abruptly stopped, followed by the rapid shuffle of footsteps.
Shiro didn't have time to hesitate anymore. He quickly nodded, taking Rookidee in his arms, and made his way up the stairs to a corner.
The sound of glass shattering rang out repeatedly. The loud noises clearly entered the room.
The intruders had already made it into the guest room. Though the door was locked, it was much thinner than the front door. With a few people working together, they could easily break it open.
"Boom boom boom!"
The weak wooden door trembled under the force, its surface intermittently bending outward.
Less than half a minute later, 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! Whoever gets 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 lay motionless in front of the door, while another struggled to get up, looking weak and unable to move much.
The remaining five split up, searching the first floor and opening each locked door one by one.
Shiro crouched behind the staircase corner, his body hidden behind overlapping handrails, watching the group through the gaps in the railing.
Among them, a young man in a short-sleeved shirt, with short hair and covered in black mud, scanned the surroundings before charging up the stairs without hesitation.
To him, it was highly probable that Shiro was hiding on the second floor, trying to escape while they were wasting time on the first floor.
If he could catch Shiro first and get the Poké Ball, he would have his own Pokémon!
The short-sleeved youth paid no attention to the stairs beneath his feet, and just as he was about to step around the corner, 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 fruit knife into his waist.
"You… Shiro! You bastard…"
The short-sleeved youth reached out his arm, but before he could finish his sentence, the knife was yanked from his waist, spurting blood as it was pulled free.
As he was about to shout, a small blue bird fell from the stairs, its iron like beak plunging straight into his neck, silencing him for good.
"Shiro! Shiro is over there!"
A sharp eyed long-haired man, still holding a piece of bread, pointed at Shiro by the stairs.
The other three, still rummaging through the rooms, immediately sprang from their corners and surrounded the 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 place, leaving them too stunned to 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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