Logan's hand did exactly what Green had hoped—reaching forward.

Just as her face lit up with a spark of triumph—before she could even savor the moment—her expression darkened again.

For an instant, her mind scrambled wildly: Am I just unbelievably unlucky… or is this guy really such an oddball?

A normal man, excited to grope a girl's chest, should just grab it directly, right?

Why… why was this man's hand coming from below instead?!

That single motion shattered her final trump card.

In that moment, true fear took hold of Green.

Logan's face shifted into a knowing smirk.

His hand had found nothing soft, nothing that should belong on a girl's chest.

Instead, beneath the thin cloth, it was hard, cold—and shaped unmistakably.

Two Poké Balls.

"Impressive. Really impressive. There really isn't a single moment I can afford to let my guard down with you," Logan drawled.

"If I had just let desire get the better of me and grabbed from the front… your Pokémon inside would probably have launched a surprise attack by now."

Green's face turned as pale as death.

"Let's see… which Pokémon could you have hidden? The other day at the lab, you used a Jigglypuff," Logan mused aloud, eyes gleaming with amusement. "So I'm willing to bet at least one of these is a Jigglypuff."

Green watched him grin, unable to hide the despair twisting her expression.

Then she felt his hand gently pinch her soft, flushed cheek.

"…Next time," Logan teased, "turn the Poké Balls around so the button faces downward. If I'd reached from below instead, maybe I'd have fallen for it."

His pinch hurt, but Green barely noticed.

She forced a bitter smile.

"That's actually… good advice," she admitted, voice thin. "Next time, I'll do better.

But even if I turned the buttons down, I doubt I could have caught you off guard. You were prepared from the start."

She understood now: Logan hadn't realized this while she'd been unconscious—if he'd been feeling around then, he would've triggered the Poké Balls.

She had already instructed the Pokémon inside: if released unexpectedly, attack immediately.

Which could only mean… he had already been suspicious before then.

"How did you figure it out?" she asked, ducking her head to hide the anxiety flickering in her bright eyes.

Behind that lowered gaze, her mind raced for any way to escape.

"It just looked too fake," Logan answered bluntly. "Your frame is too slim for a bust that size. Even if you were unusually gifted… that scale was just excessive."

His tone was strangely serious, as if discussing the technicalities of a magician's trick—not a girl's chest.

"I see… I thought any man would be happy to see a larger chest," Green murmured thoughtfully.

"I'll remember next time. Keep it believable, not exaggerated."

It was almost amusing how quickly she pivoted from fear to earnest strategizing—like a student analyzing where her illusion failed.

Logan let out a sigh of mild disappointment.

It seemed this seductive, cunning girl's true figure wasn't that different from Misty's—maybe a little bigger, but nowhere near Sabrina's level.

Still… Miss Sabrina really is the best, he thought wistfully.

"So, ready to admit defeat?" he asked, noting that Green's lively cunning seemed to have quieted at last.

"Not a chance!"

But Green raised her chin stubbornly, refusing to give in.

Normally, she would have faked submission—waited for him to lower his guard—then struck.

But realizing those tricks were useless, her spirit turned more defiant than ever.

"If you won't surrender," Logan said, settling down to sit directly in front of her, "then show me your final tricks.

Let's see what else you've got."

Bound as she was, Green's posture forced her to kneel on the grass, her slender legs folded beneath her.

Their eyes were level now.

Logan's gaze fell, lingering on the pale skin of her legs, before his hand slid over to stroke lightly.

Green's body shivered, but she pretended to ignore it.

"…If brute force won't work, then let's trade," she whispered hoarsely. "I have something to offer you. Will you let me go in exchange?"

"Let's hear it," Logan replied, calm and unimpressed. "I'll decide if it's worth it."

"Do you know why Team Rocket attacked Vermilion City?" she asked.

"I couldn't care less why they staged a terrorist attack," Logan scoffed. "Don't tell me you're trying to trade useless intelligence for your freedom?"

"Of course not," Green snapped back.

"What I want to trade is this: Team Rocket attacked Vermilion City because the Gym Leader wasn't there—they wanted Cerulean City's Gym Leader to rush to help, leaving Cerulean defenseless.

Because… they discovered traces of the legendary Pokémon, Mew, in Cerulean!"

She finished speaking, eyes locked on Logan's face, searching desperately for any reaction.

"Oh? The legendary Mew," Logan murmured. "And?"

His tone remained almost bored, his expression unreadable, leaving Green feeling frustrated and uncertain.

"Team Rocket sent a large force to Cerulean," she pressed on.

"They have a special disk that recorded Mew's psychic wavelength.

With it, they can pinpoint Mew's location anywhere in the city.

And I—" she lifted her chin proudly, her bright eyes glittering "—I stole that disk from their secret base."

"…So, how about it?" she offered, voice husky with mischief and temptation.

"Let's team up to catch Mew. You looked like you could use money the other day when you took some from my wallet.

If we catch Mew and sell it, we'll both make a fortune!"

She winked one eye, trying to look playful—charming.

"Catch Mew? Then sell it?!"

Logan blinked, then burst into laughter so loud it echoed through the trees.

"What's so funny?!" Green snapped, cheeks flushed with annoyance.

Stealing that disk hadn't been easy, and she couldn't see what part of her plan sounded stupid.

"I'm laughing at how naive you are," Logan finally said, shaking his head.

"Do you have any idea how powerful Mew really is?"

Green faltered, his serious tone making her hesitate.

"I… don't really know," she admitted. "But it's just a Pokémon, right?

If the two of us work together—and we know exactly where it is—how hard could it be?"

Her voice lost a little of its boldness, her certainty crumbling under his gaze.

This girl really doesn't understand… Logan thought.

Probably, most people in this world don't. The last records of a legendary Pokémon's true power were from seventy years ago—and even those were only in writing.

It was like people who had never seen war trying to imagine its horrors.

Without witnessing firsthand the godlike power of a legendary Pokémon, most people assumed they were simply rarer, slightly stronger Pokémon.

Only top scholars and elite trainers truly knew what "legendary" meant.

Still…

"Your proposal… I'll consider it," Logan said at last.

"I don't care much about catching Mew. But beating it up a little… that actually sounds fun."

His eyes gleamed with a dangerous, hungry light.

Somewhere deep inside him, Logan knew:

Mewtwo wants to fight Mew. And this… might just be the perfect chance.

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