On the winding route leading toward Celadon City, Logan walked alone through the forest trail. He wasn't in a rush to reach the city—instead, he took advantage of the wild terrain to continue training and refining both himself and his Pokémon.

This stretch of forest, while not as vast as Viridian Forest, was a paradise of its own. With rolling hills, flowing streams, shady trees, and vibrant wildflowers, it was arguably the most comfortable environment Logan had experienced since the start of his journey.

Celadon and Saffron were considered the most international and advanced cities in the region, and the surrounding nature reflected that prosperity. The climate, too, was mild and pleasant—truly a place blessed by both land and sky.

While passing near a natural spring, Logan suddenly caught movement in the nearby grass. He paused, spotting a strange yet elegant creature dashing playfully through the clearing. It was Mr. Mime, gleefully chasing butterflies, spinning in place as though performing a theatrical act.

Logan's eyes lit up. It wasn't that he particularly loved Mr. Mime—it was just that this Pokémon was incredibly rare. No natural habitats for it had ever been documented. It didn't seem to live in groups either. Genderless and humanoid in form, Logan didn't even need to check his Pokédex—he already knew he had never caught one before.

Aside from the one owned by Sabrina, wild Mr. Mime were practically unheard of.

Logan wasn't a capture-obsessed trainer. He didn't care about completing a Pokédex or collecting every species like trading cards. But when it came to rare Pokémon—he didn't hesitate.

"Perfect. Don't let it get away. Gabite—move!"

Without thinking twice, Logan gave the order.

Gabite, who had been crouched in the bushes beside him, silently watching from behind the foliage, let out a guttural snarl. Its fearsome fangs glinted. The three-meter-tall dragon lunged forward with explosive speed, blasting wind through the trees as it charged like a missile toward its prey.

Mr. Mime turned just in time to see the blur of destruction heading its way and panicked. With a shriek, it reflexively used Psychic—but its power barely slowed Gabite for a split second. The dragon shattered the invisible force field with brute strength alone.

That was the sheer difference in power.

When the gap is that wide, even a super effective move barely scratches the surface.

Terrified, Mr. Mime turned to flee, screaming in panic. It wasn't Gabite's size that frightened it—Pokémon knew better than to judge by size alone. No, it was the savage glint in Gabite's eyes. The raw energy rippling through the air like a physical wave. Mr. Mime knew—it was prey.

"Trying to run? Earthquake!"

CRACK—RUMBLE—

Logan sprinted after them, voice sharp. The ground trembled beneath his feet. Soil split open and rock fractured. Mr. Mime lost its balance and tumbled forward, crying out as seismic energy knocked the breath out of it.

Gabite seized the moment—leapt into the air—and slammed down with Dragon Claw.

"Wait! Careful! Don't slice its head off—we can't eat it without the head!"

Logan called out, half-jokingly, but also serious.

Gabite, obedient and intelligent, softened its strike just enough. The Dragon Claw punctured Mr. Mime's side—but didn't sever anything vital.

Logan tossed a Poké Ball.

Mr. Mime, too injured to resist, vanished into the ball with barely a flicker of red light.

Capture successful.

Logan wasn't a professional hunter. He didn't know the delicate weak points of each species. He wasn't skilled in catching them while they were still strong. His style was simpler—overwhelm, crush, and then capture.

Power solved everything.

"Hah... getting late. We'll set up camp here."

He glanced at the darkening sky. The sun had nearly vanished behind the hills. Night would soon take hold.

Gabite growled softly beside him, seemingly in agreement.

They pitched a small tent, gathered firewood, and Gabite lit the campfire with a short burst of flame. These survival routines had been part of their journey since it was just a Gible, and it had become so practiced it could even handle chores without being told.

But now that it had evolved, its large size made it impossible to sleep inside the tent with Logan. Instead, it curled up just outside—silent, vigilant, and alert.

"Come out, Dragonair—it's dinner time."

He tossed another Poké Ball. With a gentle flash, Dragonair emerged, letting out a soft "Mii-woo" sound as it nuzzled against Logan's chest. Smiling, Logan stroked its head and pulled out energy cubes. Gabite and Dragonair eagerly began to feast.

Luckily, Pokémon were unique in that despite their size, their nutritional needs weren't as extreme as one might expect. They ate only to sustain life. Their combat energy was drawn from deeper reserves—and restored through rest, not food. It reminded Logan of the cultivation arts in old legends. Efficient. Elegant.

He placed a small pot over the fire and began cooking his own meal. The supplies he carried now were far more refined than earlier in his journey—premium field rations bought with the wealth he'd earned from battles and quests.

Looking down at Mr. Mime's Poké Ball, he paused to think.

Most trainers fell into two categories. One group specialized in a specific type—like Logan and the Gym Leaders. Focused and powerful, but vulnerable to counters. The other group, like Red, trained many different types to cover weaknesses—balanced, but lacking in specialized strength.

Logan? He didn't need to worry about weaknesses. The power of the Dragon-type and his unique bond with them erased most type disadvantages outright.

Even so, among single-type specialists, most had secondary specialties.

Surge was known for Electric and Fighting types. Sabrina mastered both Psychic and Poison.

Logan didn't even have to think. Because of Mewtwo, his second strongest affinity—was Psychic.

"My dragons are without question my main team," he mused, stirring the pot, "but maybe it's time to start building a backup unit of Psychic-types. Might come in handy... like, if I ever need to go incognito."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The more famous he became, the more recognizable his dragon team would be. If he ever had to operate in secret, using them would instantly blow his cover.

Psychic-types were common enough that no one would suspect him.

"First, I'll perfect my dragon team. Then I'll quietly train a second group in my spare time. If I could find a Pokémon that's both Dragon and Psychic... that would be ideal. Best of both worlds."

As his thoughts wandered toward future strategy, his Pokédex suddenly began to vibrate.

"Hm?"

He glanced at the screen.

"Professor Oak?"

Surprised to see the name pop up, Logan immediately accepted the video call.

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