"You're particularly proud of that stunt back at the party, aren't you? Forcing me to shut my muzzle while tempting me with bits of lore."

Howard grumbled, his helmet reflecting little but an umbral void back at Hoenn's Top Champion. Even if Howard hated the seat she filled, even if he hated her, it was an undeniable fact that she was this era's Top Champion. With such large shoes to fill, Howard almost pitied the woman. How many people looked at her and saw the one that came before, rather than the one they had now?

From his pocket, Howard produced a cigarette and slipped it through his helmet. In spite of everything, he didn't suffocate from the constant stream of smoke that the nicotine stick produced.

"I kept the peace far better than many of my colleagues would've, to be sure. My tongue isn't as gilded as Elisabeth's, see. Shame I had to put her six feet under." Howard knew that was a lie, but Melody wouldn't. There was no reason to doubt that Elisabeth Fiorelli was dead when everyone had seen it. "It was a good party."

He turned his head towards her old gym, his cape flapping as he did so.

"This was your gym?"

---

Melody Miro