Aoki's brows were furrowed tightly, a deep crease of concern etched upon his forehead that showed no signs of relaxing.

So unscrupulous?

On the League's own territory?!

The malice he had sensed was not only directed towards himself, but seemed to threaten everyone around him as well!

Originally, it was not Aoki's place to intervene in such a matter. After all, this was Silver Mountain, the heart of the League's power. It should have been sufficient for him to simply report his unsettling feelings to the League authorities.

But the provocation was so blatant, a deliberate challenge. Even though the other party's hostile intentions had been revealed, the League could not act without any concrete evidence, leaving the threat frustratingly unaddressed.

As Aoki lowered his head in thought, he looked up again to find the seat opposite him now empty, the mysterious individual having vanished.

"I'll be gone for a moment."

Aoki whispered this to Daigo and the others beside him and then walked straight out of the bustling venue, his movements purposeful.

Daigo and the others did not think much of his departure, their attention completely captured by the climactic battle unfolding between Watari and Kona. The intensity of the match between the two Elite Four members had reached a fever pitch, and observing such a high-level confrontation was a valuable opportunity to better understand the gulf that lay between themselves and the challenge of confronting the Elite Four.

Aoki left his seat and walked directly out of the grand arena, stepping from the roaring crowd into the relative quiet of the exterior halls.

The other individual had left a distinct trail of psychic energy fluctuation in the air, a subtle but deliberate beacon that was very obvious to anyone with psychic abilities.

This was clearly intended for Aoki to see. The meaning was very simple; it told Aoki that the person had gone that way, and it dared him, questioned whether he had the courage to follow.

Aoki hesitated for only a moment, his mind racing through the possibilities, before he chose to chase after the receding psychic wave.

Confident in his own abilities and courage, he refused to believe that anyone could truly cause such a significant disturbance within the territory of Silver Mountain, the very headquarters of the League itself.

Following the distinct fluctuations of psychic energy, he soon arrived at the commercial street of Silver Mountain, a place normally filled with cheerful tourists and Trainers.

He then tracked the trail down to a small, unassuming cafe situated at the very edge of the commercial street, a quieter location away from the main thoroughfare.

The last vestiges of the psychic wave disappeared definitively at the door of this particular cafe.

Aoki, standing outside, peered through the window into the interior, but the cafe appeared completely deserted, devoid of any patrons or staff.

The furnishings inside seemed no different from those of an ordinary, quaint coffee shop, with tables and chairs neatly arranged.

With his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration, Aoki flipped his palm and a Poke Ball appeared in his grip, a comforting weight.

He secured it firmly on his waist and then strode decisively towards the entrance.

He intended to simply push the door open.

But the moment his hand made contact with the door and it began to swing inward, he immediately discovered something deeply unusual about the space beyond.

A spatial distortion rippled before him. It was, however, too late to retreat at this point, his momentum carrying him forward.

Fortunately, in that instant, Aoki's honed senses confirmed that there was no immediate physical danger. Someone had expertly tampered with the door, creating a mechanism that allowed the person who pushed it open to pass directly through a concealed space barrier.

The Unown etched onto his wrist also communicated to him silently, assuring him that there was no inherent problem with the barrier itself.

It was merely a transition into a separate, pocket dimension, a different space created for a private confrontation.

After Aoki pushed the door open and entered, the facade of the normal world reasserted itself; from the outside, the cafe, the street, everything returned to its usual, undisturbed state, showing no sign of the extraordinary passage that had just occurred.

Inside, Aoki glanced around, watching the space around him flicker with unstable light as it stabilized into the new environment.

As someone who was relatively familiar with alien spaces, having opened them up himself through the Unown on multiple occasions, he was very familiar with the unique sensation and properties of such a place.

This was an ordinary, stably-created alien space, not particularly large or complex.

At this time, within the different space, a middle-aged man dressed entirely in black stood waiting, looking at Aoki with a knowing smile playing on his lips.

It seemed as if he had been patiently waiting for Aoki to arrive all along.

"Aoki, right?" the middle-aged man in black asked, his tone conversational.

Aoki frowned, his expression guarded, and did not answer the question directly.

But the fact that this stranger could call out his name so readily seemed to confirm that this was indeed a prepared ambush, a trap set specifically for him.

The goal was unquestionably himself.

"Who are you?!" Aoki demanded in return, his voice firm.

"Hey, don't think about delaying for time," the man said with a sarcastic edge. "As a person with psychic powers, you cannot be unaware of where we are now. A lost psychic, adrift in the modern world, is truly a pitiable sight." The middle-aged man's words were dripping with condescension.

His face seemed to be filled with a profound disdain for Aoki's identity as a psychic in the service of the League.

A lost psychic?

"You are also a person with psychic powers! What is your purpose?!" Aoki asked again, pressing for information.

This different space?

But internally, Aoki felt a surge of disdain.

This was showing off one's meager skills in front of a true expert. Check latest chapters at novelꜰire.net

If he didn't have a desire to extract some valuable information from this individual, he could easily disrupt and break this fragile alien space with his own power.

"Now, on behalf of our organization, I am giving you a singular opportunity," the man declared. "Give up your so-called 'advanced psychic' status within the League, renounce your ridiculous alliance identity, and return to our fold, the community of original psychics. We will enlighten you, we will let you know what it truly means to wield psychic power!

You are different from those mundane people you surround yourself with. You possess the innate qualifications to be accepted by us. Otherwise, the moment you entered this alien space, you sealed your fate. You will be buried here."

When the middle-aged man talked about the concept of the 'original psychic,' a unmistakable hint of madness and fanaticism flashed in his eyes, a zealous glow.

The original psychics?

Aoki stood perfectly still, carefully maintaining a facade of anxiety and confusion. "What is an original psychic? If you want me to even consider joining you, you must at least let me know what kind of organization you are, right?" he asked, feigning a desperate need for understanding.

Hearing this, the middle-aged man in black fell silent for a while, considering the request.

He recalled the task instructions that the lady in white had given him prior to this encounter. One of the primary objectives was to attempt to recruit Aoki into the organization, with a secondary objective being the elimination of other promising Trainers like Steven and Cynthia, to prevent them from reaching their full potential.

He was the first operative officially sent out by their organization into the open, a signal that their group was now ready to emerge from the shadows.

But he felt that what Aoki said had a certain logic to it. Why would anyone join a cause they did not understand?

This was, after all, the different space he himself had opened and controlled; there was no need to worry about Aoki escaping his grasp.

Even if Aoki were trying to trick information out of him, it would ultimately be a useless endeavor if he could never leave this alien space alive to report it.

"As a person who wields psychic powers, you must have learned something of our shared history, correct?" the middle-aged man in black began, adopting a lecturing tone.

Aoki gave a slow, cautious nod.

"You are aware, then, that in ancient times, people with psychic powers grew arrogant, believing they could enslave all ordinary people. In the end, according to the tales, the ordinary people rose up and overthrew their rule. Then, the remaining psychics, defeated, formed a cooperative relationship with ordinary people, which has continued in the form of the League to this day?" the man recited, his voice laced with contempt.

Aoki continued to nod. This was indeed the sanctioned history he had been taught, the narrative promoted by both the League and even organizations like Team Rocket.

"Bullshit!!!"

But the middle-aged man in black suddenly exploded, cursing loudly, his calm facade shattering.

It was as if he had been personally and profoundly insulted by the very recitation.

"The victorious party, the scribes of the ordinary, completely distorted the history to place themselves on a fabricated moral high ground!

The truth is far different! It was those ordinary people, those weaklings, who initially expressed their willingness to become vassals, to serve the psychics! Then, at a moment of their own treacherous planning, they launched a sudden, cowardly coup! Some of the psychics, the traitors, the weak-willed, chose to collaborate with them, and that is how our glorious psychic kingdom was truly cast down into the abyss!!!

Those so-called 'psychics' who work with the League today are nothing but running dogs for ordinary people! They are lapdogs who have forgotten their birthright!" The middle-aged man in black spoke with increasing fury, his eyes burning with a passion that suggested he had personally witnessed the injustices of that ancient time.

"Look around you! Look at this alien space! Have those so-called modern psychics you associate with ever taught you this profound ability? Do you have any idea, that in ancient times, as long as a psychic broke through to the intermediate level, they would be taught this foundational skill as a matter of course? But what about now?!

Ninety percent of our true methods, our sacred techniques for using psychic power, have been lost, deliberately suppressed and erased!

Do you truly believe that using some bullshit parlor trick like Telepathy makes you a genuine psychic???

In the ancient era, such a simple skill was akin to the ability a child possesses when they are just learning to speak, a mere toddler's babble! But now you, and all the others, regard it as the pinnacle, as the very signifier of being a psychic! !

And your so-called 'advanced' psychic rank? It is nothing but a joke. You have only barely, just barely, reached what we would classify as the true intermediate level.

And you are an intermediate psychic who is utterly unskilled, who possesses none of the true applications of our power.

Your control over your own psychic energy, your fundamental command of the force within you, is pitifully, laughably weak."

The middle-aged man in black showed a deep, profound disdain as he looked Aoki up and down, his gaze sweeping over him as if examining a flawed specimen.

It was abundantly clear that Aoki's psychic abilities, his control, and his application of power were considered completely insignificant, utterly worthless, in his eyes. Every aspect of Aoki's hard-won skill was being devalued and dismissed.