"The only thing I can be certain of is this—these tracks weren't left by researchers. A proper research team wouldn't be in such a rush. They'd take their time, explore anything that piques their interest. This… complicates things."
Logan straightened up, one hand casually tucked into his pocket as he muttered aloud, his sharp gaze sweeping across the area. All he could see were towering trees stretching skyward. Here and there, sunlight pierced through the canopy, leaving shafts of golden light that prevented the forest from being completely swallowed in darkness.
"Gaa?"
Gible tilted its head in confusion. It couldn't fully grasp what Logan meant, nor did it understand why the situation was becoming "complicated."
Logan glanced at the little dragon's blank, puzzled expression and chuckled, shaking his head. No matter how intelligent or empathic Pokémon could be, they could never truly think like a human.
To Logan, wild Pokémon in Viridian Forest were dangerous, sure—driven by primal instincts to survive and hunt. A single mistake could cost someone their life. But despite this, he still found Pokémon easier to deal with than humans. People, with all their lies and hidden motives, were far more terrifying. Logan had no issues with communication—but if he had the choice, he'd much rather interact with Pokémon than navigate the twisted thoughts of other humans.
[I was about to tell you... earlier I sensed a presence. It felt both familiar and repulsive. But the sensation vanished quickly, and I couldn't pinpoint it.]
Mewtwo's voice suddenly connected to Logan's mind, its tone carrying a rare mix of curiosity and unease.
[Familiar and repulsive?]
Logan frowned. Mewtwo, who had now absorbed so much human knowledge, still chose such a bizarre, contradictory description. It puzzled him.
[Familiar like someone close… but hated on a primal level,] Mewtwo clarified.
[That can't be a good sign,] Logan muttered darkly.
A theory began forming in his mind. He had a hunch about what—or rather, who—Mewtwo had sensed. If it really was that, then their meeting might be happening far sooner than expected.
"…In that case, these footprints… never mind. Just a guess. If we want the truth, we need to go find them ourselves. Gible, with me—we'll track them down. But we're doing it stealthily."
At Logan's signal, Gible eagerly bounced after him.
"…Didn't want to use this, but given the circumstances…"
Logan rifled through his belt pouch until he retrieved a Poké Ball. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it forward. "Come on out, Rattata. You've got the best nose here—track those humans down for me."
From the ball emerged a Rattata, the mouse Pokémon sniffing the air instantly. Capturing Pokémon in the wild wasn't difficult—especially ones that weren't inherently aggressive or unusually intelligent like dragon-types. Once captured, most Pokémon would obey the commands of the victor, following nature's law: the strong lead.
Unlike his stronger team members, Rattata was uninjured—another reason Logan chose it for this task. Using injured Pokémon would cost him potions and berries—and healing items weren't cheap.
Rattata twitched its nose, clearly puzzled by the scent trail. The area reeked of too many overlapping human smells. Logan had already noticed earlier that this group of people had split up and moved in different directions.
"Find the one closest to us."
Rattata perked up at the clear directive. Its small frame darted into the underbrush, moving with practiced precision. Logan and Gible followed closely behind.
The trio moved quickly. About twenty minutes later, they reached a clearing—and spotted a lone figure.
"Well done, Rattata."
Logan swiftly returned the Pokémon to its ball and crept forward with Gible at his side.
"As expected… Team Rocket."
The man in the clearing wore that unmistakable black uniform with a red scarf around his neck—likely marking him as a squad leader. He was issuing orders through a handheld device, a Golbat flapping near him, clearly on guard duty.
Logan tapped Gible on the head. With practiced stealth, the little dragon dropped low and crept around the edge of the clearing. Once Gible was in position, Logan silently circled to the other side.
—
"You'll move in squads of four. Spread out in eight directions and report any findings—no solo action. I know it's tough searching all of Viridian Forest with just our squad, but HQ's stretched thin. The Boss sent most of our forces to Johto. It's up to us now… and no backtalk! Orders from the Boss aren't up for debate. Stay alert. This forest is dangerous—but you're in groups, so you should be fine."
"…Hm? What was that?"
The squad leader snapped to attention. A bush rustled nearby.
"Golbat, cover me!"
The Golbat flapped forward as the rustling intensified. A shadow emerged—someone also dressed in a Team Rocket uniform.
"Stop! Which unit are you from? I sent everyone out to look for Mew, so what are you doing back here alone?"
The leader wasn't stupid. He immediately sensed something was off. But before he could react—
"Aw, man. I had this whole dramatic speech ready—was gonna show off my Oscar-winning acting chops. But you just gave away everything I needed to know. What a letdown."
The voice floated in casually.
"You're not with Team Rocket… Who are you?! Golbat, att—"
"Too late!"
Before the order could be finished, Logan raised one finger.
A dark shape plummeted from the treetops above.
"Dragon Rush!"
The shadow streaked downward like a meteor. The squad leader had just enough time to glance up—his last thought: I'm done for.
Gible crashed down, head first, imbued with brutal energy. The blow cracked bones on impact and sent shockwaves through the clearing, leaving a crater nearly half a meter deep.
The squad leader crumpled, unconscious and probably worse.
Golbat, stunned by its trainer's sudden defeat, hesitated mid-air. It flapped its wings nervously before instinctively lunging at Gible with a bite.
Its fangs sank into Gible's thick hide—but Logan only laughed.
"…A Pokémon without a trainer's direction. You're even more pitiful than some wild ones. And Bite? Really? Gible, finish it with Dragon Pulse."
Gible let out a savage roar. Invisible soundwaves tore through the air, shattering Golbat's fangs. Without further prompting, Gible lunged forward, tore one of Golbat's wings clean off, and grounded it for good.
"Now… just like I taught you."
Gible trotted back to the squad leader's unconscious form and bit down on one of the Poké Balls at his belt—destroying the activation switch.
"Nice job, Gible. All those practice balls paid off."
Logan grinned. His appearance shimmered, and in an instant, he shed the Rocket disguise, revealing his usual casual outfit. It was nothing more than a subtle psychic trick—a tweak to his own brain via Mewtwo's hypnosis. Rather than cast illusions outward, the psychic energy simply altered perception, making enemies see what Logan wanted them to see.
And the most efficient way to disable a trainer's Pokémon? Destroy the Poké Ball before the Pokémon is released. While powerful Pokémon can eventually break free, the delay alone is enough to tip the scales.
"You may not be able to fly, but that jump had some real punch to it, huh?"
Logan looked up at the tall tree Gible had leapt from, clearly impressed by the successful ambush.
"Giiible!"
The dragon Pokémon bounced joyfully, proud of the praise.
Logan glanced at the downed Rocket member. His eyes instinctively shifted away.
Just three months ago, he had been a normal, law-abiding citizen. Taking a life—even indirectly—still left a bitter taste. When Mewtwo had killed before, it had been so clean, so decisive, that Logan never fully processed the aftermath. But now, watching a man bleed out in front of him, knowing he was the cause…
Still, Logan refused to be sentimental.
What's done was done. Regret would only turn him into a clown—a weak fool mocking the dead.
[You heard that, Mewtwo. That presence you sensed—it really was Mew. And it's somewhere here, in Viridian Forest.]
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