Hiroshi concluded the roster and took a breath. "Makima and Yoshimura will remain outside the direct fray," he said. "Director Makima will coordinate backups and handle any political fallout from a safe distance, and Yoshimura-san will liaise with trusted contacts to prepare for eventual raids or arrests once we have the intel." In other words, the team had support in the shadows. Makima gave a curt nod. "I'll be monitoring everything from here and from HQ's formal channels. If you uncover urgent threats – say a bomb in the building or immediate danger – signal me at once. Otherwise, gather evidence quietly. We strike only when we have the full picture." Her amber eyes hardened. "We won't get a second chance at this. If the enemy gets a whiff that we're hunting them, they'll scatter like rats."
A hush fell. Each agent felt the gravity of her words. The PSIA Kanto Branch was a den of traitors entwined with foreign agencies, corrupt corporations, even strings pulled from the Cabinet Office itself. It was no exaggeration that if they failed to expose the entire network in one sweep, those enemies would disappear underground or, worse, retaliate with potentially catastrophic force.
Hiroshi looked around at his friends and managed a confident smile that he half felt. "We've got one shot," he said quietly. "Let's make it count. Trust your instincts, and trust Daisy, Akemi, and Alakazam." At the mention of the Pokémon, there was an almost imperceptible rustle in a shadowy corner of the room. If one didn't know better, one might think it was just the flicker of a dying light. But Hiroshi knew it was Daisy, listening invisibly alongside Alakazam even now. Kirlia Akemi stood openly at Hiroshi's side – a petite, graceful figure in green and white who could easily be mistaken for a decorative mascot. The small empath Pokémon looked around at the gathered humans with bright, understanding eyes. She was quivering slightly – not with fear, but eagerness. She could sense the determination (and yes, the nerves) in the room, and she hummed a soft "Kir…!" as if to say we're ready.
Hiroshi placed a gentle hand on Akemi's head. "Akemi will accompany me in the open. As far as anyone at HQ knows, she's just a pet Kirlia I keep around." He flashed a grin. "Perks of nepotism – I'm 'spoiled' enough to bring my own office Pokémon." Quiet chuckles met that remark. It wasn't uncommon for high-ranking officials to have a personal Pokémon as a status symbol or security measure (usually something mundane like a Growlithe or a Pidgey). A Kirlia was rare, but not beyond believability – especially if one thought the new Assistant Director was an indulged youth with expensive tastes. No one would suspect that this elegant little creature would be silently scanning emotional auras and flagging every lie uttered in her presence.
"As for Daisy and Alakazam," Hiroshi went on, "they'll remain out of sight. They'll move through the building as needed – cloaked." He exchanged a wordless thought with Daisy, knowing the Gardevoir caught it from wherever she hid: We'll be careful. In Shanghai, Daisy had walked unseen among enemies by bending light and warping perceptions. In a crowded office full of alert agents, it would be trickier – but Gardevoir and Alakazam would find ways to perch high in corners, masquerade as shadows, even slip between camera blind spots with teleported hops. And if anyone did catch a glimpse of the white gown or the spoons glinting, they'd likely dismiss it as a trick of the light or one of HQ's own security experiments. After all, who would really imagine that an Alakazam – a Pokémon of legend – was hovering above the ceiling panels, reading their every surface thought?
"Daisy's telepathy will keep us linked," Hiroshi added. "She'll relay what she and Alakazam pick up from people's minds. Akemi—" he gave the Kirlia a fond little shake by the shoulder "—will be my immediate lie detector and emotional radar." Akemi beamed at the praise, her red eyes blinking solemnly as if she fully grasped her mission. "Between them, we'll know who's hiding something or who reacts oddly when certain topics come up." He looked at Madoka. "Once we have leads, feed them to Madoka. He can cross-check communications and files in the system."
Madoka held up a secure phone. "We'll use the encrypted chat app on these. Preloaded on all devices we issued last night." Each team member had received a sleek encrypted smartphone – courtesy of Makima's office – during the pre-dawn briefing. "Keep messages sparse and in code. Assume someone at HQ could be monitoring typical channels." The code, as they all knew, was based on innocuous phrases. A simple "Need coffee with extra sugar" could mean "I have a suspect; send Daisy", whereas "Lunch meeting postponed" might signal "abort – we're compromised". They had memorized a whole lexicon of these benign-sounding signals. It would have to do; constant direct telepathy with everyone was too challenging over distance for the Pokémon, and gathering in person would risk exposure.
Makima pushed off the wall, stepping into the circle of light. The planning was done; now it was time to move. "You all have your assignments and entry badges." She swept her gaze over them one last time, her face composed but eyes shining with conviction. "This is where the real battle for Tokyo begins – in the corridors of our own agency. Stay sharp. Watch each other's backs." Then, in a rare softening, she added, "And remember, you're not alone in there. You have each other, and you have us just a call away." Makima's faith in them was almost palpable. Kobeni squared her shoulders a bit more, Aki's chin lifted with determination, and Denji puffed out his chest with a roguish grin.
Hiroshi clipped Kirlia's Poke Ball to his belt for now – Akemi would walk in with him but best to arrive appearing contained and docile – and gathered his papers. "We'll stagger our arrivals to avoid looking like a unit," he ordered. Turning to the eldest agent, he quipped, "Kishibe-san, care to chauffeur the newbie boss on his first day?" Kishibe snorted, already shrugging on a plain black overcoat. "Heh, driving Miss Daisy and her boy? Why not," he said, eyes glinting with humor at the Gardevoir's name. "At least I know you won't complain about my music choice." The others filed out behind them, tension easing just enough for a few smirks and deep breaths.
As they dispersed toward the surface exit and awaiting vehicles, Hiroshi felt Makima's hand briefly touch his arm. He paused. She met his eyes, her voice too low for anyone else to hear: "You know what's at stake." "I do," he replied equally quietly. A beat of understanding passed between them. So much depended on this young man who now had to play the fool. Makima didn't need to say good luck; her confidence was clear. Hiroshi gave a reassuring nod, then turned and followed Kishibe up the concrete stairs, into the gray dawn light of Tokyo.