(Misdreavus---> Mismagius) (Sorry for the mistakes)
Once a conversation had started, shutting it down wasn't so simple anymore.
Luther felt that the reason this world felt so comfortable was inseparably tied to Pokémon.
They served as a universal language, bridging the gap between people, easing social tension, and providing endless shared experiences.
Even the divisions between different social circles were softened because of Pokémon.
Of course, not all conflicts disappeared. Some were practically universal, like the friction between Trainers who specialized in Fire-types and those loyal to Water-types.
It was reminiscent of the playful rivalry between fans of two major gaming consoles, say, Nintendo and Sony.
Was it serious? To most of the community, it was all in good fun.
Was it not serious? Well, to those who were deep in their respective circles, it absolutely was.
Ash, fortunately, was the kind of cheerful and outgoing person who didn't get hung up on those things.
He wasn't the hypersensitive, easily offended type, something Luther always found exhausting.
If the conversation hit a lull, Ash had a knack for reigniting it.
If he said something wrong, he'd try to patch things up without hesitation.
Aside from his famously awful romantic instincts and that impressively thick skull of his, Ash was the textbook definition of a good friend.
Trying to stay guarded around someone like that was a losing battle; no matter how you looked at it, that was a kind of Talent.
And this Talent didn't just work on people, it worked on Pokémon too.
It had won over countless Legendary Pokémon, captured the admiration of Champions, and charmed every kind of Trainer.
Now, it had slowly pulled Luther into his orbit as well.
When Luther was active in the wider Pokémon community online in his previous life, someone well-known had once described Ash with eerie precision: A lifetime of charisma, unintentionally leaving a trail of romantic chaos in his wake, totally unaware of his charm.
That quote had surfaced after Serena's emotional farewell episode aired.
Predictably, it sparked a heated debate. Dawn's fans were the first to bite back, arguing passionately that she came first, and didn't her "High Touch" moment say it all?
Then Misty's supporters jumped in, asserting that seniority mattered, and she'd always be the original.
May's fans wisely stepped back from the battlefield, conserving energy while the chaos unfolded.
Iris's defenders rolled up their sleeves and jumped in, unwilling to be sidelined.
Meanwhile, Lillie's fans, boosted by her rising popularity thanks to recent plotlines, quickly started gaining ground.
Off to the side were Lita's fans, quietly panicking as they realized hardly anyone even remembered who Lita was anymore.
Soon, the air inside and outside the chat group was thick with the unmistakable tension of wintertime shipping wars.
A famous line came to mind:
"Where there's confusion, someone will fall; where there's shipping, someone will perish…"
That single quote had triggered such an intense debate that nearly half the group ended up getting muted.
Luther had sat back and watched it all unfold for a full two hours.
When the dust settled and the last person was muted, he'd only commented:
"I've never seen people so committed to being bored."
Ash casually tossed out new topics, which Brock would pick apart and explain before guiding the discussion over to Luther.
Brock had a calming, reassuring way about him, like a warm spring breeze.
He'd instinctively fill in the gaps where Ash left things hanging, making sure conversations stayed on track and didn't fade out.
As the dialogue flowed, Luther found himself nudging the topic toward Flying-type Pokémon.
If you asked which Type Ash was best at handling, Flying-types would be the clear answer.
But that wasn't the real reason Luther brought them up.
"My starter Pokémon was Ralts; technically speaking, she saved my life. My second was Marill when she was still just a baby Azurill. In her own way, she saved me too," Luther said.
"I guess we're kind of alike," Ash replied, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. "Back when Pikachu and I first left Pallet Town, we got ambushed by a swarm of Spearow. I still don't know if I saved Pikachu or if Pikachu saved me. My second Pokémon was Pidgeotto. I still remember my first Pokémon League— nearly missed it entirely. Pidgeotto flew me there, pushing himself way too hard… and yeah, I lost that one."
Luther blinked as he took a sip of orange juice. "I've seen your Pikachu," he said curiously. "But what about your Pidgeotto?"
Ash froze mid-thought, and Brock's hand stopped halfway to his glass.
That question hit with unexpected weight, like a pebble halting the flow of a stream.
"I remember you released Pidgeot in the forest near Pallet Town, right?" Brock asked, turning toward Ash.
"Yeah…" Ash snapped out of it and nodded. "I visited him before I came to Sinnoh."
He rubbed the back of his head. "His flock and a group of Fearow are still butting heads out there. Professor Oak said that it was just natural territorial stuff and that maybe I shouldn't interfere. So I haven't taken him back. Still, I've been hoping another Pidgeot would show up in the flock soon. I promised him— if I make it to the main tournament in Sinnoh, I'll bring him back."
Luther took another sip, silently acknowledging Ash's resolve.
'Good. He hadn't been forgotten.'
That question had been a test— to see if Ash remembered.
Just as Luther was about to guide the conversation deeper, he instinctively scanned the restaurant. The moment his eyes swept the room, he bit down hard on the straw in his mouth.
A chill ran down the back of his neck, and he didn't raise his head again.
Luther had always been a bit… sensitive. Maybe it was rooted in his past, in all the times he'd been on edge, but he'd developed a strange kind of awareness, almost like a sixth sense.
When someone stared at him too intently, he felt it.
And this time, the sensation was unmistakable.
Still pretending nothing was off, Luther adjusted his posture and continued chatting with Ash as if everything was normal. But even with the distraction, that feeling of being watched didn't go away.
Whatever— or whoever— he'd spotted in that brief scan had triggered something deep and unsettling.
Using Ash and Brock as a convenient buffer, Luther glanced around again. Nothing obviously suspicious stood out.
Then—
"Cynthia's at the Nature Park!"
The restaurant door burst open, and the news sent a ripple through the room. Trainers leapt up with their Pokémon and rushed outside in a wave of excitement.
Ash's group and Mai were on their feet in an instant.
Mai glanced back when she noticed Luther still sitting. "Aren't you coming to see Cynthia?"
Luther was still chewing the end of his straw. "Nah," he replied flatly. "I'm heading to the bathroom."
Mai gave him a look, then turned and followed Ash and the others toward the park's stone monument.
Once she was gone, Luther stood up calmly, careful not to draw attention.
He recalled the Pokémon at his feet into their Poké Balls— even Ralts, who usually insisted on riding on his shoulder.
Only Mismagius stayed behind him, floating like a silent shadow.
Luther headed for the restroom first— just in case it wasn't all in his head.
The moment he stepped inside, the prickling sensation vanished.
Not paranoia, then.
Once he'd washed up and stepped back out into the now half-empty restaurant, the unsettling feeling slammed back into him— sharp and immediate.
Scanning the remaining customers, Luther couldn't pinpoint the source.
But that didn't matter.
Whoever was watching, they weren't going to catch him off guard.
Luther stepped out through the restaurant's front door, raised a Poké Ball, and Mismagius vanished into the air in a flash of red light.
He deliberately chose the path opposite the one leading to the Nature Park's stone monument.
It was a quiet trail, rarely used— fallen leaves and dry branches crunched softly under his feet.
After walking for about ten minutes, Luther paused, scanning the forest around him.
"I'd really like to know why you're tailing me like this," He called out. "Do we know each other?"
His voice echoed faintly through the trees, but no response came.
"No answer? You think I'm bluffing?" He turned around, narrowing his eyes. "Fine, then I'll start guessing."
"I only became a Trainer not long ago. If I have enemies, the most obvious one would be Alon. I heard his Trainer License was revoked after our battle. Sure, he probably hates me, but stalking and spying? That's not really his thing. He's more the type to challenge me to a rematch and throw punches if he loses."
"If it's not him, that makes this really weird. I haven't crossed anyone else… not directly, anyway."
Luther tilted his head, then shrugged with mock realization. "Oh, right! I might have ticked off some shady organization I don't even know the name of. And let's not forget that officer from the International Police who got mad when I refused to cooperate!"
Suddenly, he shouted, "Shadow Ball!"
The moment Luther had stepped into the restaurant bathroom earlier, he'd quickly laid out a plan with Mismagius.
When he exited the main entrance, he'd make it look like he recalled her into her Poké Ball but in reality, she'd zip into hiding above him.
Now, from high in the treetops, a shadowy orb burst down from the canopy.
It crashed against a thick tree trunk with a deep, echoing thud.
A dark figure leapt out from behind the tree at that exact moment, wearing a ball cap, sunglasses, and a long black trench coat wrapped tight.
The coat clung to a muscular frame, stretched taut across broad shoulders.
Luther recognized him instantly. He'd been sitting dead center in the restaurant earlier.
"Still nothing to say?" Luther asked, his tone casual but sharp.
The man remained silent.
"Fine. Let's keep guessing," Luther said, studying him carefully.
"Couldn't be the International Police, right? They wouldn't stoop to shady tailing tactics just because I told them off."
"So… you're probably from some underground group?"
"If I hand you over to the International Police, wouldn't that actually help clear me of any false accusations?"
He smirked. "Mismagius, use Psychic— knock him out."
Before the attack could launch, the man finally spoke— his deep voice catching Luther off guard.
"Sandstorm. Trap Mismagius."
Luther hadn't even seen him throw a Poké Ball.
But in an instant, a Flygon materialized beside Mismagius in mid-air.
Caught off-guard while focusing her Psychic attack, Mismagius was swept into a swirling vortex of sand.
Luther's hand flew to his belt. He grabbed a Poké Ball of Jumpluff's and just as he did, instinct screamed at him to dodge.
He dropped and rolled backward, but he wasn't fast enough.
Two vine whips lashed down from above, striking his wrist with brutal force.
Pain seared through his arm as the Poké Ball slipped from his grasp and tumbled to the ground.
"Damn it… where did that Cacturne come from?!"
Luther was sure that he hadn't seen the man release another Pokémon.
Still on the ground, Luther reached for his belt again, this time gripping a different Poké Ball, low and tight, hidden behind his body.
There will be no more giving this guy openings.
The man in black vaulted onto Flygon's back, which was still locked in a dogfight with the flustered Mismagius.
With a flick of his hand, two Poké Balls flew through the air toward him as if pulled by an invisible force.
In the shafts of light filtering through the canopy, Luther caught a glimpse, a faint glint of wire.
A trick mechanism.
The man had rigged the Poké Balls with a remote retrieval system.
Recalling Cacturne, he gave Luther one last glance— still silent.
Then he turned his back and, without another word, took off on Flygon's back, vanishing into the sky.
(End of Chapter)
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