The second clerk frowns at a price chart. "I've never seen anything quite like this, but it kinda looks like a star piece, don't you think?" He elbows the first clerk.

The first clerk isn't really seeing it but hey, whatever gets him out of this conversation fastest. "Yeah. Sure."

"I can offer you 4900 for it," says the second clerk.

That's ... about ten sandwiches. But it's not like he really has other options.

"That's acceptable. While I'm here, I'd also like to purchase a sandwich."

The second clerk takes the badge and hands him a sandwich and some money. "Anything else I can do for you today?"

He shakes his head and goes to sit on the rug near the table. He unwraps the sandwich and starts to eat it. 

The packaging says "MADE IN PALDEA" on it. It tastes strongly of pickles.

He has no idea where Paldea is. Maybe it's one of those small countries that no one pays much attention to, like Allebahst.

"...Do you want to sit at the table?" asks one of the people sitting at the table. "There's an open seat."

She looks about twelve.

He would really rather not.

He flourishes his baton. "I'd be happy to."

The table-sitters move around to make room. In addition to the girl, there's a teenage boy and a man wearing an enormous backpack.

"What brings you to Nacrene City?" asks the man with the backpack.

He would also like to know the answer to this question!!!

"Someone from Team Plasma stole my Pokémon, and the person who rescued me brought me here."

He glances at the Pokéball that Sebastian is very obviously carrying. "Did you get it back, then?"

"No, but Lenora let me have one of her starters." 

Hopefully he's not saying anything too ridiculous.

"Well, I hope someone tracks down your Pokémon soon! It's kind of ridiculous that the League hasn't put a stop to Team Plasma already."

"Giving speeches isn't illegal," says the twelve-year-old girl. "Even if they're stupid speeches."

"Stealing Pokémon is illegal."

"If they're breaking the law, then why hasn't the 'league' stopped them yet?"

"Because they can't just arrest everyone associated with Team Plasma just because some of them are breaking the law," says the guy with the backpack.

"Because Alder sucks at his job," says the teenage boy at the same time.

"He doesn't suck," says the backpacker. "He's just ... busy."

"Who's Alder?"

".......The current champion?" says the teenage boy.

"He said he wasn't from around here, weren't you listening at all?" says the girl.

"Well, maybe I just wasn't eavesdropping!"

So there's some sort of league of police officers, or possibly of prosecutors, who's supposed to be in charge of investigating crimes, and Alder is presumably in charge of it? If they're basically the police, then does that make Alder basically Damon not everyone who sucks at their job is in on a conspiracy.

"That's right. I'm from quite far away, so I don't know very much about your government yet."

"It's not like anyone else in the League has done a particularly great job of stopping Team Plasma either," says the backpacker. "I mean, has Lenora caught the people who stole this guy's Pokémon? No!"

Oh no, is he going to get Lenora in trouble for not catching a made-up criminal? 

"—Sorry. I know that's probably a sensitive subject."

"I only reported it a few hours ago." That'll buy Lenora until tomorrow, at least.

The conversation turns to a TV show called Eyes on Unova, and eventually the lights go dim.

He lies down on the rug, rolls up his jacket into a makeshift pillow, and falls asleep.

It's surprisingly easy, given everything that happened. He was up awfully late questioning Kay last night.