A few minutes earlier, at the rear slopes of Mount Coronet, Dragonite descended from the sky and landed outside Origin Internet Café.
Lance jumped down from its back and frowned at the building in front of him.
He had spent more than ten minutes circling the coordinates Cynthia had sent before finally spotting the structure from the air.
A few more minutes without finding anything and he probably would have given up, because this entire area was so deserted that it hardly looked like anyone lived here at all.
Before Lance could give the strange location much more thought, Dragonite suddenly shuddered behind him.
“Rrgh…”
Its eyes had begun to redden, and a low, restless growl rumbled in its throat as it shook its head irritably.
Lance noticed immediately and hurried over, placing a hand on Dragonite’s shoulder.
“How are you feeling?
Are you all right?”
Dragonite shook its head as though trying to reassure him, but the intermittent red glow in its eyes and the tremors running through its body made it obvious that something was wrong.
“You’ve done enough.
Leave the rest to me.”
Lance raised its Poké Ball and recalled Dragonite in a flash of red light.
Even after being returned, the ball continued shaking violently in his hand.
His expression grew complicated.
This was an old problem.
Lance’s Dragonite was unusual.
It carried a peculiar bloodline that gave it extraordinary growth potential and far greater power than most other Dragon-types.
Even when it had still been a Dratini, it had been capable of using an exceptionally powerful Dragon-type technique that Pokémon of its age should never have been able to wield.
That power came with a price.
Ever since evolving into Dragonite, every use of that particular technique risked throwing its power completely out of control and sending it into a strange berserk state.
To prevent that from happening, Lance had deliberately stopped Dragonite from using the move whenever possible, despite it being one of its strongest attacks.
Three days ago, however, during an operation against Team Rocket, Lance had encountered one of the organization’s senior officers.
The battle had pushed them hard enough that he was forced to have Dragonite use that technique, and only then had they barely managed to defeat the opponent.
The side effects had returned immediately afterward.
Worse, the episodes over the past few days seemed more severe than ever before.
Lance sighed quietly.
He had spent years looking for a solution, but very little had helped.
Several professors who specialized in Dragon-type Pokémon had examined Dragonite and admitted they had never encountered such an abnormal ability or condition.
As far as they could determine, the problem was unique to Lance’s partner.
Only one elderly researcher had ever provided a possible lead.
He remembered reading something vaguely similar in an ancient text describing Dragon-type techniques, but the relevant knowledge had apparently been lost generations ago.
He had been unable to offer any actual treatment.
Lance tightened his grip around the Poké Ball and drew a deep breath.
Golden light emerged from his arm and flowed into the ball.
Within seconds, sweat covered Lance’s forehead and his breathing grew heavy.
This was a special ability inherited through the lineage of Dragon Tamers—the Power of the Dragon.
Unfortunately, Lance’s bloodline was comparatively diluted, leaving his version of the ability incomplete.
Using it for only a few seconds was enough to drain most of his stamina.
Fortunately, the Poké Ball gradually stopped trembling.
Lance remained where he was for a while, waiting until his breathing returned to normal.
Dragonite should be stable for the time being.
For now, Team Rocket was the more urgent matter.
He put the Poké Ball away and looked toward the building Cynthia had directed him to.
A neglected courtyard sat among dense shrubs, with an unremarkable stone building standing at the far end.
From the outside, the entire place looked closer to abandoned than operational.
Even on the way here, Lance had thought that if Cynthia had not personally told him there might be information about Team Rocket here, he would never have believed it.
Now that he was actually standing in front of the place, a more paranoid possibility crossed his mind.
Had Team Rocket somehow compromised Cynthia’s communications and lured him into an isolated part of Mount Coronet?
His hand quietly moved toward one of the Poké Balls at his waist as he entered the courtyard.
The moment Lance pushed open the door, however, what he saw inside stopped him short.
Soft music played in the background.
Warm yellow lighting illuminated spotless wooden floors, broad floor-to-ceiling windows, and a counter fitted with a large display screen.
Compared with the dilapidated exterior, the interior looked like an entirely different building.
His gaze moved toward the center of the room.
There really was a computer there.
‘So it actually is an internet café?’
Then Lance frowned.
‘What kind of internet café only has one computer?’
Before he could dwell on that contradiction, he noticed what was sitting in front of it.
A Pokémon.
Its entire body was white and round, with crimson eyes fixed vacantly on the monitor.
Both short claws were wrapped around a white can.
Hearing the door open, the Pokémon turned its head, grinned at Lance, and waved.
“Gengar!”
Then it turned back toward the monitor and resumed staring at the screen.
Lance stood there in silence.
Why was there a Gengar sitting at a computer?
More importantly, did this even count as using the computer?
It looked like it was simply sitting there doing nothing!
And why was it white?
Gengar were supposed to be purple.
Even their Shiny coloration was nowhere near pure white.
Question after question piled up in Lance’s head until he almost forgot why he had come.
Out of habit, he tried sensing the Gengar’s strength.
He felt nothing.
That generally meant one of two things: either the Pokémon was so powerful that it could conceal its presence completely, or it was so weak that there was barely any presence to detect in the first place.
Looking at the blank-faced Gengar happily nursing its drink, Lance naturally leaned toward the second explanation.
While he was still assessing it, a young voice came from behind the counter.
“Welcome.”
Lance turned.
A young man had risen from behind the counter and was walking toward him.
Lance quickly took in the details.
Early twenties, perhaps.
Calm posture.
No visible Trainer equipment.
“You work here?”
“No, I own the place.” Felix gestured toward Gengar.
“That one’s the employee.”
Lance looked back at Gengar.
The supposed employee was still sitting in front of the computer, occasionally taking a sip of its drink and smiling stupidly at the screen.
He could not stop himself from asking, “…What exactly is it doing?”
“Livestreaming.”
Lance paused.
“Live…streaming?”
“Yeah.
People are watching it drink.”
Lance stared at him.
Then at Gengar.
Then back at Felix.
Cynthia had told him there were important clues here, and Lance had trusted her.
But the reality in front of him was beginning to test that trust.
A white Gengar livestreaming itself drinking soda, a young owner who barely looked old enough to be out of college, and an internet café with one computer hidden in the middle of Mount Coronet…
For the first time since arriving, Lance seriously wondered whether Cynthia had somehow decided to play an elaborate joke on him.
Then his gaze happened to pass across the counter.
He stopped.
A triangular stone fragment lay there.
At first glance, it looked completely unremarkable.
But the moment Lance focused on it, something inside him responded.
A powerful pull seemed to emanate from the fragment, resonating with something deep within his body and urging him to move closer.
‘What…
is that?’
Without realizing it, Lance took a step toward the counter.
The stone fragment suddenly erupted with golden light.
The radiance surged from its surface and shot directly toward Lance’s chest.