A water-type trainer who specializes in dragon-type water.

Time: 00:05.

Location: East China Alliance Headquarters, Seventh District Special Detention Center.

The neon lights of Shanghai appear tired and hazy after midnight, but the real undercurrents only begin to surge at this moment.

A few hoarse "caw-caw" cries broke the silence as several glossy-feathered, cunning-eyed ravens swept across the shadows of the tall buildings and disappeared into the gaps between the towering structures, as if signaling some ominous gathering.

Deep beneath the city, a gray-black building constructed of special alloys and energy barriers lies dormant like a giant beast, its walls woven with composite interlayers that block most energy detection and telepathic communication.

A faint bitter smell permeated the air; it was the aroma of burning custard fruit powder, which could effectively suppress superpower fluctuations and cause intruders to become mentally scattered.

The building's interior passageways are intricate and complex, with a cool, constant light. At every corner and near every gate, an invisible force field subtly ripples.

Even more striking are the silent guardians—Hokage floating in mid-air above the corridor, their eyes closed yet radiating powerful super-energy ripples, their spoons slightly crossed.

Holding a hypnotic ring, he scanned his surroundings with an eerie gaze, making sure no mind spy could infiltrate the dream-inducing creature.

And those lurking in the shadows, their figures appearing and disappearing, emitting low, playful laughs or cradling eerie, cursed dolls.

Psychic and Ghost types, the two types of Pokémon best suited to dealing with unconventional threats, form an impenetrable mental and physical defense here.

In the deepest part of the detention center, in the center of a completely isolated area, there is a special interrogation room.

The room was empty, almost devoid of any furnishings, except for a cold spotlight beam that shone down from the center of the ceiling, fixed firmly to the equally cold metal interrogation chair in the very center of the room.

Within the beam of light, a figure was trembling violently.

That's Liao Tianhao.

He was once a young master from a top family in Shanghai who roared through the streets of the city, spent money like water in high-end restaurants, and acted arrogantly in the Trainer Academy.

At this moment, the arrogance and domineering look on his face had been completely crushed, leaving only a pale, drowning-like expression and fear.

The expensive custom-made clothes clung to his body in wrinkles, his hair was stuck to his forehead with cold sweat, his eyes were unfocused, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.

His hands were secured to the armrests of the chair with special magnetic handcuffs.

"I...I don't know...I don't know anything..." His voice was dry and hoarse, like a broken bellows, as he repeated these words over and over, his eyes staring blankly into the darkness ahead.

"Let me go...please...my dad...my dad is Liao Chunfeng...he will save me...let me go..."

However, the darkness was silent, and only his own echo collided between the cold walls, adding to the despair.

The long period of imprisonment, the unknown fate, and the terrifying speculation about his father's fate had already completely shattered the psychological defenses of this outwardly strong but inwardly weak playboy.

The initial arrogant shouting and threats using her father's name quickly turned into a desperate pleading after receiving no response.

"Dad! Where are you! You promised me! You said nothing would happen!"

Suddenly, as if pricked by a needle, he struggled violently, his wrists clanging against the metal armrests, veins bulging on his neck, as he hysterically roared at the void.

"Do you know who I am?! I'm Liao Tianhao! The only son of the director of the Shanghai Public Security Bureau! This is illegal detention! When I get out, I'll make you all..."

The shouts sounded particularly weak and feeble in the empty interrogation room, even carrying a ridiculous sense of desperation.

He clearly didn't fully understand, or was unwilling to believe, that the reason he could still safely break down and scream here was precisely because of the heavy guards and tight isolation.

Otherwise, those shadowy figures from the spirit world who collaborated with his father and were eager to silence him would have already dragged his life, along with any secrets he might have known, into eternal silence, like vengeful ghosts.

This interrogation room is less a cage and more a cruel haven, temporarily shielding it from the deadly arrows of the outside world.

On the edge of darkness beyond the reach of this pale light, one wall of the interrogation room is actually a huge one-way glass panel.

On the other side of the glass was an observation room. Several figures stood silently, taking in all of Liao Tianhao's shameful behavior during the interrogation.

Standing in the middle was Zhang Leiyuan, the East China champion, whose posture was as upright as a pine tree. His hands were behind his back, and his usual boldness was replaced by a deep solemnity. His brows were furrowed, and deep lines, like those carved by a knife, were gathered between his eyebrows.

With each desperate cry and each feeble struggle from Liao Tianhao, the cold glint in his eyes intensified.

This is not sympathy for Liao Tianhao, but a calm assessment of the situation.

Standing to Zhang Leiyuan's left was Uncle Luo, who had changed into a crisp, high-ranking official's uniform and exuded a more composed and capable air—or rather, he should now be called Director Luo, the new head of the East China Public Security Bureau.

His complexion wasn't good either; he gently stroked his chin with his fingers and slowly shook his head.

“Given his current state of near collapse and mental instability,” Director Luo said in a low voice, with professional caution.

"The effect of using someone as 'bait' will be greatly reduced, and it may even backfire. In the eyes of assassins, the urgency to kill a person who is clearly mentally deranged will be reduced."

"They might suspect it's a trap, or think he's run out of valuable information."

After all, a key factor in whether their plan could succeed was beyond their control: whether the other party chose to make a move.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Leiyuan's gaze remained fixed on Liao Tianhao, who was slumped in his chair on the other side of the glass, beginning another round of muttered pleas. After a moment of silence, he spoke coldly and harshly.

“It’s alright. Secretary Kang will come over later and use her Dream Eater to apply deep hypnosis to ensure he remains outwardly calm for two hours during the transfer. It’s enough that he can be put into the car like a terrified but not broken prisoner.”

His plan was simple and direct: use hypnosis to ensure the bait would function "normally" at the crucial moment, and once the rats were lured out of their hole, the rest would be out of their hands.

Just then, the heavy soundproof door to the observation room was gently knocked on and then pushed open.

A young man in a police action team uniform, looking capable and efficient, strode in, first giving Zhang Leiyuan and Director Luo a standard salute, and then reporting in a low voice.

"Champion, Chief, the escort convoy is in position, the outer perimeter has completed its final clearance check, and all monitoring nodes are confirmed to be normal. We can begin the 'transfer' procedure."

His voice was steady, but his eyes were sharp, clearly indicating that he was a trusted confidant carefully cultivated by his direct superior, Director Luo.

Zhang Leiyuan nodded slightly, turning his gaze from Liao Tianhao to Director Luo: "Director Luo, let's begin according to the established plan."

Director Luo nodded and ordered his young subordinate, "Team Leader Li, pass the word that the escort convoy will arrive at receiving point number three in three minutes, following the predetermined route. Remember, the procedure must be followed precisely..."

"Yes!" Captain Li accepted the order and turned to make arrangements without hesitation.

Zhang Heng, who had been silently observing from the side, tilted his head slightly and looked at Uncle Luo—Director Luo—with a hint of curiosity.

This is "Uncle Luo," who watched him grow up, always had a gentle smile, and was skilled at handling trivial matters inside and outside the family.

The imposing uniform he wore and the unquestionable aura of authority he exuded when issuing commands made him feel somewhat unfamiliar.

"Director Luo...? I'm not used to this title yet." Zhang Heng couldn't help but repeat the title softly.

Upon hearing this, Director Luo's stern expression, which he usually wore when facing his subordinates, instantly melted away, replaced by the familiar, gentle, and wise smile that Zhang Heng knew so well. A shrewd glint flashed in his eyes.

"What, surprised? Xiao Heng, Liao Chunfeng has fallen. Someone has to clean up the mess he left behind."

“Your father thinks that my old bones might still be able to contribute a little more to quell the evil spirits in East China.”

Zhang Heng suddenly realized and turned to look at his father's sharply defined profile.

Not only was Qishu parachuted in to become the dojo master, but even in a crucial and powerful department like the Public Security Bureau, the father didn't hesitate to replace him with someone he absolutely trusted, "his own person."

Then, recalling his father's earlier suggestion to directly send him to a prestigious university in Shanghai as the "top seed"...

Just as Qi Shu had said, my father's methods of controlling East China were indeed swift and decisive, even somewhat... domineering and forceful.

This is to transform East China into a single, impenetrable entity at the fastest possible speed.

Just as his thoughts were wandering, a sudden inspiration flashed in Zhang Heng's mind.

“Father, Uncle Luo,” he began, his voice breaking the somewhat somber atmosphere in the observation room.

"Regarding Liao Tianhao's mental state, I may have a simpler and safer method that does not require Secretary-General Kang to conduct deep hypnosis, which may leave traces or arouse the other party's vigilance."

"Oh?"

Zhang Leiyuan and Director Luo both focused their attention on Zhang Heng, filled with questions and expectations.

Zhang Heng didn't keep him in suspense and looked directly at Uncle Luo: "Director Luo, shouldn't the Public Security Bureau be equipped with Pokémon specifically for criminal investigation sketches and assisting in solving cases? Like... Smeargle?"

In every large police station or important branch, there are combat-type Pokémon like Arcanine and Xeno'jiiva responsible for tracking and surveillance.

Besides support Pokémon like Gengar and Alakazam used for investigation and solving supernatural cases, a special functional Pokémon—Smeargle—is usually included.

They possess incredible "sketching" skills, capable of accurately drawing the physical characteristics of suspects based on eyewitness accounts or even vague residual impressions of energy, making them indispensable "living sketch experts" in case investigation.

Although Director Luo did not fully understand Zhang Heng's intentions at first, his trust in Zhang Heng was almost unconditional.

Without hesitation, he turned to Captain Li, who had just returned from receiving orders and was standing by his side: "Captain Li, I remember your initial partner when you joined the team was a Tutu dog, which has always been by your side assisting in solving cases. Summon it."

"Yes!" Captain Li was extremely efficient. Upon hearing the order, he immediately took a slightly old but well-maintained Poké Ball from his waist and threw it forward without hesitation.

"boom!"

A flash of white light appeared, and a small Pokémon appeared before everyone.

It is less than half a meter tall, with its main body color being brown, while its head, neck, and tail tip are a soft cream color.

What is most striking is the tuft of hair at the end of its tail, which is not naturally grown but resembles a giant calligraphy brush dipped in thick ink.

It stands on its two hind legs, while its front paws are as flexible as hands. At this moment, it is blinking its small black eyes curiously at the people in the room, and the brush on its tail is swaying unconsciously.

It is Smeargle, a Pokémon that looks frail but possesses a rare talent for artistic copying.

Zhang Leiyuan, Director Luo, and Captain Li all looked at Zhang Heng with puzzled expressions, wondering what he intended to do by summoning a painting Pokémon at this critical moment.

Zhang Heng didn't explain. He walked straight to the one-way glass and looked more closely at Liao Tianhao, who was emaciated and had a vacant look in his eyes, as if he were measuring something.

Then, he turned around and clearly gave the command to the curious Tutu dog:

"TuTu Dog, use your 'sketching' skills to carefully observe the appearance, build, and clothing details of the person behind the glass, and then..."

He paused, and under the focused gaze of TuTu Dog and the increasingly puzzled looks of Captain Li and the others, he uttered the second half of his sentence, which made everyone instantly understand:

"...Then, use your talent to 'disguise' me as him."