Tracking down a specific Pokémon in this vast jungle was no easy feat. Team Rocket relied on some unknown technology and machines to search, while Logan had to depend entirely on the Mewtwo sealed within the Master Ball nestled against his chest.
Inside the Master Ball, submerged in a gene-regulating fluid, Mewtwo sat in deep meditation, channeling its psychic powers to search for Mew's aura and presence. Compared to Mewtwo's range of perception, Logan and Gible were hopelessly outmatched. The trainer and his partner continued navigating the perilous forest while entrusting the search entirely to Mewtwo's psychic senses. Logan understood that if even Mewtwo couldn't find Mew, then he certainly had no better method.
"It's already been two days… and not just Mew—even signs of Team Rocket have completely vanished."
Logan wiped the sweat off his forehead, leaning against a tree trunk as he squinted under the dappled afternoon sunlight. Having just finished lunch, he longed for a peaceful nap. But ever since the start of this journey, even night sleep had become a luxury. A daytime nap? Unthinkable.
Viridian Forest was simply too vast. Dozens of people could disappear into its depths like pebbles tossed into the ocean. Finding traces of anyone was near impossible. They had been lucky—absurdly lucky—to stumble across that Team Rocket squad leader earlier.
"That Rocket grunt's body should have been discovered by now. I wonder what the others will think? Will they assume he was taken out by wild Pokémon, or perhaps by a wandering trainer? Or maybe… they'll think Mew did it. Hah, either way, there's no way they'd suspect me."
Though Logan wasn't afraid of Team Rocket, a criminal organization that stretched across the Kanto and Johto regions and had proven impossible for even the Pokémon League to wipe out, he still didn't want to be on their radar more than necessary. But given that Mewtwo now traveled with him, he had a feeling staying under the radar wasn't an option anymore.
"Mewtwo, have you sensed anything yet? We're running low on food. At best, we can last three more days in the forest. Actually—damn—I forgot to factor in the supplies we'll need for the return trip. Which means… starting today, we'll need to start heading back out."
Snapping upright, Logan's lazy demeanor vanished, replaced by a sharp alertness. He gave his forehead a smack, frustrated at his oversight. He didn't have any Flying-type Pokémon on him, which meant he had to leave the forest on foot. Taking out a compass, he muttered, "At least this thing still works. No strange magnetic fields around here, thank Arceus. But the signal reception is awful. No way I can contact anyone from here… maybe at the forest's edge."
Just like in his old world, signals grew weaker the deeper one ventured into the wilderness. And in this world, technology also had to contend with interference from Pokémon energy fields. As for the precise scientific principles behind it all, Logan had no idea—he wasn't a researcher.
[…There are lingering traces of psychic energy from Mew nearby. It's constantly using its abilities to move. As long as it stays in motion, I'll be able to track it.]
After a long silence, Mewtwo finally spoke.
"That's great news," Logan replied, a glint in his eye. "So Mew really did pass through here. Let's hope it stops somewhere instead of just wandering aimlessly. Otherwise, we'll never catch up. I suppose Team Rocket is using some kind of device that detects its psychic signature as well. Mewtwo, which direction has the strongest residual energy?"
[Northeast.]
"Got it! Let's go, Gible! We head northeast—and from there, straight east out of the forest!"
"Graaaar!!"
Gible, full of spirit, let out a roar and leapt to its feet.
Logan moved to the riverside to fill his canteen with water. He didn't bother cleaning the grime and dust from his clothes. Without delay, he and Gible re-entered the dense, perilous jungle.
They spent the entire afternoon chasing traces of Mew's psychic trail. By the time night fell, darkness swallowed the forest whole. If it weren't for Mewtwo's psychic light guiding Logan, he would've already stopped—traveling at night was far too dangerous.
[If we don't find anything soon, we'll have to stop for the night, Mewtwo. Traveling in the dark is suicide.]
Logan spoke in thought alone, not wanting his voice to attract unwanted attention.
[Mew's psychic energy keeps appearing in all directions—near, far, scattered. Wait… No, something's wrong. It just got very close! Be careful!]
The warning made Logan freeze. Without a word, Gible responded instantly, tensing and scanning the surroundings with a low growl.
[Wait a second… If you can sense Mew's psychic fluctuations, then doesn't that mean Mew can also sense yours?]
[Now that you mention it… that's highly likely. Apologies, Logan. I overlooked that possibility. Mew must've known we were tracking it, and it's been deliberately running us in circles.]
There was genuine remorse in Mewtwo's melodic voice. Though it had been created ten years ago, it had only recently emerged from its incubation and lacked real-world experience.
[It's not your fault, Mewtwo. I should've thought of that too. But now's not the time for blame. We need to be ready—if Mew decides to strike first, Gible won't stand a chance. You're our only hope.]
[Leave it to me, Logan. I won't let anything happen to you.]
Mewtwo's firm tone was reassuring.
Logan placed his hand on the Master Ball at his chest, ready to release Mewtwo at a moment's notice.
Suddenly, a dazzling whirlwind kicked up around him from all directions—an unnatural gust, like a tornado spiraling in place. It wasn't random, and it definitely wasn't natural.
This… was psychic power.
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