“Ko-gee?”
Gastly, who had been thoroughly enjoying his show, was interrupted by the sharp scrape of the chair across the floor.
He couldn’t help looking curiously at Nathan Hale.
Is he still acting all weird?
After confirming that Nathan Hale hadn’t encountered any danger, Gastly turned his attention back to the phone.
What it didn’t know was what Nathan Hale had just experienced.
As a scholar of psychology, Nathan Hale was quite confident in his own ability to control his emotions.
Yet when he saw the two words “Mewtwo” in the chat window, his mind still short-circuited for a moment.
Mewtwo!
Surely no Pokémon fan was unfamiliar with that name.
In his previous life, as the Pokémon games progressed into the Kalos, Alola, Galar, and even Paldea regions, countless powerful and terrifying Legendary Pokémon appeared.
Saying that Mewtwo was the strongest Pokémon might be an overstatement.
But in the hearts of many veteran Pokémon fans, Mewtwo undoubtedly held an extremely important and special position.
Nathan Hale was naturally one of them.
He knew Mewtwo all too well.
Mewtwo.
A Legendary Psychic-type Pokémon artificially created by Team Rocket using Mew’s genetic material.
It possessed tremendous strength and destructive power, yet because it had been artificially created, it had always searched for the meaning of its own existence.
If Nathan Hale had encountered Mewtwo in a game, he would certainly have been thrilled.
But encountering Mewtwo in the real world…
That was a completely different matter.
With Mewtwo’s abilities, eliminating a person, a Pokémon, or even an entire town wouldn’t exactly be difficult.
More importantly, it was not an easy Pokémon to get along with, either.
It was constantly questioning the meaning and value of its own existence.
It was confused yet stubborn, obsessive yet incredibly powerful.
Once it got trapped in a mental dead end of its own making, even the gods would have trouble pulling it out.
If one were ranking Pokémon by psychological problems…
Mewtwo would probably take second place only if there were another Pokémon in the entire Pokémon world capable of taking first.
Then Nathan Hale thought back to their previous conversation, as well as the username “Who Am I.”
Suddenly, everything seemed to make sense.
Wait!
Nathan Hale’s expression gradually became strange.
Judging from Mewtwo’s current state, it had probably only been born recently, right?
In other words, it had just been manipulated by Giovanni, joined Team Rocket, and become a tool for Team Rocket to harvest wild Pokémon and plunder resources?
Then the “person” Mewtwo had mentioned last time…
Was Team Rocket’s leader, Giovanni?!
And Nathan Hale had actually suggested that Mewtwo go cook a meal with that person and give it a try…
An image of Boss Giovanni wearing an apron and frying food in a pan suddenly appeared in Nathan Hale’s mind.
Ahem.
That mental picture was just a little too bizarre.
“Phew—”
Nathan Hale took a slow breath, gradually calming himself down before sitting back in front of the computer.
He stared at the chat window, feeling somewhat troubled.
Although he now knew that the other party was Mewtwo and understood its symptoms, figuring out how to “cure” it would be an extremely difficult task for any Pokémon psychology scholar.
But soon, a faint excitement began to rise within him.
A case like this…
There might only be one in the entire Pokémon world!
Nathan Hale placed both hands on the keyboard, his thoughts racing as he began typing.
“So, who do you think you are?”
He didn’t dwell on the name “Mewtwo.”
He didn’t show any surprise.
He even acted as though he didn’t particularly care.
Because Mewtwo, as a powerful Legendary Pokémon, had always sought something ordinary and mundane.
It yearned to be like other Pokémon—to be a true “Pokémon,” rather than the singular existence known as Mewtwo.
It was like a child born into a family with billions in wealth.
From the moment of birth, they were already standing at a destination others could never reach, yet they longed to become an ordinary person.
But in reality, no matter how hard they tried, they could never truly understand what it meant to be “ordinary.”
Their birth had already decided that.
Therefore, ignoring Mewtwo’s special nature was the first step in communicating with it.
Whether in the anime or the manga, those who managed to communicate with Mewtwo—be it Ash or Red—first treated it as a Pokémon among Pokémon.
Only afterward did they treat it as Mewtwo.
That was the difference between “the Pokémon Mewtwo” and “Mewtwo.”
“.
.
.I don’t know.”
Sure enough, when Mewtwo faced Nathan Hale’s question with another question, it didn’t become impatient.
Instead, it was confused.
More importantly, it revealed something else:
It was willing to communicate with Nathan Hale.
“For example, suppose my name is ‘Gastly,’ and your name is also ‘Gastly.’ How would you distinguish between you and me?”
“I…”
Mewtwo was momentarily at a loss.
“There are so many Pokémon and so many species of Pokémon in the world.
Are there two Gastly that are completely identical?”
“I suppose…
there aren’t.”
Nathan Hale smiled and continued.
“Then how do we distinguish between all those Gastly?”
“I…
don’t know.”
Mewtwo fell into thought.
“Then what if one Gastly likes eating noodles, while another likes inhaling gas?
Can you tell them apart?”
“Yes.”
This time, Mewtwo answered decisively.
“How?”
“Their preferences are different.”
“Good!”
Nathan Hale’s fingers flew across the keyboard as if he were writing a paper he had long since memorized.
He asked again:
“Then suppose there are four Gastly.
Two like eating noodles, and two like inhaling gas.
How would you distinguish between them?”
“.
.
.I don’t know.”
“Among the two that like eating noodles, one is always floating in the air, while the other often passes through walls.
Can you tell them apart?”
“Yes.
Their behavior is different.”
It’s even answering before I finish now.
Nathan Hale was quite pleased.
“So, have you figured out the pattern?”
“Preferences.
Behavior.
Thoughts.
Goals…”
Mewtwo’s answer went somewhat beyond Nathan Hale’s expectations.
He hadn’t expected it not only to summarize, but also to draw inferences from the examples.
This made Nathan Hale even more interested.
Mewtwo’s ability to learn was indeed impressive.
“Then let’s return to you.
You said you don’t know who you are.
Let me ask you this: if you encountered two Gastly on the verge of death—one burned, one starving—and with a single thought you could save one of them, but only one, which would you choose?”
Mewtwo was silent for a while before answering.
“I’m not sure.
I can’t make a choice.”
“What if you knew the burned Gastly?”
“I think…
the burned one?”
It phrased its answer as a question, revealing its hesitation.
“Good.
You are the ‘you’ who would save the burned Gastly.”
What followed was a series of questions from Nathan Hale.
“Continue.
If the starving Gastly died, do you think you would regret it?”
“Would you blame yourself for indirectly causing a Gastly’s death?”
“If you were given another chance, would you still choose the burned Gastly?”
“If the burned Gastly blamed you for refusing to save its companion, would you become angry?”
“If you were given another chance at that point, would you make the same choice?”
“If…”
At this moment, the only thing filling the chat window was Nathan Hale’s questions.
The other side had fallen completely silent.
Nathan Hale wasn’t in a hurry.
He gave Mewtwo time to think independently.
Because this was a process of discovering the “self.”
In the broadest sense, the “I” primarily referred to the self—the “I” that embodied an individual’s unique characteristics.
After waiting roughly thirty seconds, Nathan Hale finally typed the last line.
“None of your answers to these questions actually matter.
The moment you follow these questions and give your answers, the ‘you’ who is answering them is the real ‘you’—the ‘you’ that cannot be replaced even if countless other Mewtwo were to appear!”
He pressed Send.
Thunk!
The computer gave a dull sound.
The message had failed to send.
Only then did Nathan Hale notice that Mewtwo’s account had gone offline.
The system displayed:
“The other party is offline and cannot receive messages.”
“Huh?”
Nathan Hale froze.
“Achoo!
Achoo!”
Beside him, Gastly had been sneezing nonstop, spraying saliva all over the screen.
“Ko-gee?”
Gastly rubbed its face repeatedly.
Did I catch a cold?
Or is someone thinking about me?
Viridian City.
A nearly sealed underground laboratory.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Warning lights on the walls flashed wildly.
The rotating red lights bathed the entire laboratory in a sinister crimson glow.
At the center of the laboratory stood a Pokémon wearing an extremely advanced suit of armor.
Its eyes were tightly shut, its brows furrowed, and it stood motionless.
A mass of data cables, power lines, and control wires extended from the armor on its back.
At the same time, dozens of researchers in white coats scurried around like ants on a hot pan.
They frantically operated countless computers and control consoles.
More than anything else…
They were panicking.
“Damn it!
What’s going on?!
Did we get hacked?
The entire network is down!”
“Hacked my ass!
Do you think Team Rocket’s Porygon Firewall is just for show?!”
“Porygon Firewall?
Take a good look at Porygon yourself!
It’s already passed out!”
“And what the hell is with all these ‘Gastly, Gastly’ messages?!”
Indeed.
Whether on the giant screen mounted on the wall or the countless screens of various sizes scattered throughout the laboratory, the words “Gastly, Gastly” kept appearing.
They were packed together so densely they were impossible to count.
Gastly.
Gastly!