Chapter Seventy-Five: The Appearance of Chen Ou (Shattered Mindset, Botched Operation, Two Thousand Words Lost...)

Snow and Dream were both startled when they heard the sudden male voice in their ears. Instantly, they assumed defensive stances, releasing two snow spirit girls and a dream demon from their Poké Balls.

Of course, Snow recognized Chen Ou’s voice, but she had no idea why he was here. Instinctively, she became even more vigilant.

As for Dream, she had already dispatched her other dream demon to scout the area and guard against intruders. For Chen Ou to appear here, had he managed to evade their surveillance, or was there another explanation?

Chen Ou emerged slowly from the deeper shadows of the forest, his hands in his pockets, making no threatening moves. Seeing this, Snow and Dream relaxed just a little.

But that brief sense of ease vanished at once. Half a pace behind Chen Ou walked a brown, lion-like Pokémon, following him step by step, a limp dream demon dangling from its jaws.

Now the reason for Chen Ou’s silent arrival was clear—the sentry had been taken out, so no alarm could be raised.

Snow gazed at the legendary Pokémon known as “Entei,” one she had only heard of in stories. She realized, once again, she had underestimated Chen Ou’s strength.

Perhaps Chen Ou didn’t need them at all—these tools were unnecessary to him.

With that thought, Snow subtly touched her right index finger with her right thumb. Dream noticed the small gesture and nodded in response.

It was a secret signal between the sisters, a tacit understanding born of being twins: if things turned dire, Snow would cover their retreat, and Dream would escape first.

Dream didn’t protest or utter any foolish words about dying together. As long as one comrade remained at large, the captured one still had bargaining chips. Noble sentiments about dying together usually only led to both being captured—or worse.

Chen Ou saw their wariness and smiled. “Relax. The fact that I haven’t launched a surprise attack shows I come with good intentions, doesn’t it?”

There was some truth to his words, but not entirely. Not attacking outright might simply mean he had other plans; it didn’t guarantee good intentions. His remark might only fool children.

At least, that’s what the sisters believed. Their vigilance did not waver in the slightest.

Seeing this, Chen Ou scratched his head in mild frustration… Gaining the trust of adversaries wasn’t something he had much practice with.

Entei, witnessing Chen Ou’s distress, snorted softly, then gently set the unconscious dream demon on the ground. Under the wary and astonished gazes of Snow and Dream, it walked over to Chen Ou’s side, tapped its Poké Ball, and vanished into a streak of red light.

It’s worth noting that Chen Ou spared no expense when it came to Poké Balls for his companions; he always used Luxury Balls. There was no special reason for this except comfort—according to Charizard and Entei, being inside was like living in a mansion. Growlithe, on the other hand, complained that he was running out of furniture to dismantle in his ball and would like a new one.

Perhaps Growlithe simply wasn’t suited to life in a Poké Ball. As for why he didn’t use Master Balls—those were too rare, and, truthfully, rather unethical.

Through his observations, Chen Ou knew that Master Balls could perfectly capture any Pokémon except for first-tier legends and some mythicals—without even needing to battle for acknowledgment.

Most mainstream trainers considered Master Balls the easy way out. Master Balls could withstand the energy of a first-tier legendary—but only as long as the legendary didn’t resist. If they did, the ball was sure to explode.

This only proved how humanity lacked any real means or force to restrain first-tier legends. Humans used to have great faith in their progress and technology—even renowned professors who had never seen a legendary up close, like Professor Rowan, Professor Elm, or Professor Sycamore, believed Master Balls could confine a first-tier legend. Perhaps not win their loyalty, but at least restrain them.

At the start of the recent incident, Lance and the others proposed this very plan, only for Chen Ou to veto it outright. He showed them footage of himself presenting a Master Ball to Mew, only for Mew to shatter it like a toy. That finally put an end to such ideas.

It’s true that Blaine and Red once used a Master Ball to capture Mewtwo—but at the time, Mewtwo was little more than a child. No one is born all-knowing. Once Mewtwo matured and mastered his powers, the Master Ball became nothing more than a plaything to him.

In any case, Mewtwo later left peacefully, without incident. Not long after, Team Rocket began to reform.

After this recent incident, the arrogance of humanity had been thoroughly upended by the sheer power of the Legendary Pokémon. A champion, with a full team of six, was barely able to withstand a series of battles. Only Red and Cynthia could suppress the legends for a short while; everyone else suffered crushing defeats.

And that was only because the legends hadn’t fully lost control, as they did in the movies—they still retained a measure of self-restraint. One shudders to think what might have happened if Hoopa’s evil spirit had valued control over sheer numbers; the destruction could have been unimaginable.

But there was no point dwelling on all that now. The past was over, and no matter how many regrets remained, the incident had forever changed the relationship between humans and Legendary Pokémon.

Perhaps there was another paper to be written on the subject.

Snow and Dream watched the distracted Chen Ou, unsure what to do. If their opponent was lost in thought, it seemed disrespectful to them—but would someone really daydream in front of their enemies?

Did this mean Chen Ou truly harbored no ill will, that he really had come in peace?

The sisters exchanged a glance. “Let’s wait and see,” their eyes seemed to say.

Would someone really daydream in front of an enemy? The answer was yes.

But would someone do so before a foe who posed a real threat? The answer was no.

Snow had seen the moment when Chen Ou became one with fire, but she couldn’t believe he would pose any threat to those accompanied by Pokémon, not without his own partners.

That, however, was simply habitual thinking. Most humans couldn’t hope to stand against Pokémon in direct combat, so they assumed Chen Ou was no exception.

Entei had once thought so too—until he learned otherwise.

A lesson written in blood and tears.

The reason Chen Ou dared to let his mind wander before them was simple: they truly posed no threat. Even if they tried a sneak attack, he could easily evade it.