Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Thirteen

"Oh! Hello." The man peered at red, furrowing his brow. "I didn't expect to have a visitor. Not many people come by after..." He trailed off.
"Sir?" Asked Red, cautiously.
"Hm? Oh! What was I saying? Ah, that's right. I don't really get guests around here. Not for a long time. Where are you from, my boy?"
"I'm from Pallet, and I-"
"Pallet? You've met an Oak then, yes?"
"Yes sir, but why-"
"That's a man who you can trust. Samuel and I worked together for years. How is the old fellow?"
"He's well enough, but-"
"Good, good." The man lifted his glass and took a drink.
"Sir, I really don't understand why you-"
"I wrote this book with him, you know." He walked forward and set it on the table. The cover was worn and faded, and the letters were difficult for Red to make out. "The Compleat Encyclopaedia Pokémon. Samuel did most of it." He brushed the leather binding gently.
"Sir, this is all very interesting but-"
"So why are you in my house, my boy?" The man walked into his cooking alcove.
"I don't know. You brought me here."
"Did I? How odd. What would be the purpose? I love a good mystery." He began rummaging through his cupboard. "You must forgive me, I'm really not the same before I've had my coffee." He pulled a glass bottle from the shelf and poured a liquid Red was certain wasn't water into his glass. He ladled coffee from the pot on the stove on top of it, and headed back to Red. "I apologize for whatever I did. If I slept better and didn't wake with such a headache, I'd have been more gracious." He took a swig of his coffee, frowned, and walked to the kitchen to pour more into his cup from the glass bottle on the shelf. "You must forgive me, I don't really have anything to give you to eat. Living out here, I don't need to save a lot of food. Easier that way." He turned. His eyes fell o Nyoromo, still in Red's arms.
"Oh, you brought breakfast."