Looking at Dayou, who was nearly blinded by rage—
Red could only sneer internally.
Dayou, still struggling to breathe, glared at his stunned lackeys.
"What are you idiots standing around for?!"
"Hurry up and help me up!"
Only then did his cronies react, rushing to lift him from the ground.
Clutching his stomach with one hand, Dayou pointed at Red with the other.
"You're Red, right?"
"I've already investigated you. You're just an ordinary trainer."
"And yet you dare hit me?!"
"Let me tell you—my father is the Vice Principal of the League Academy!"
"My grandfather was once on the verge of becoming an Elite Four!"
"If you hand over that Larvitar now and kowtow three times—"
"I might spare your life."
As he spoke, Dayou sneered inwardly.
He had already decided—
Once Red handed over Larvitar—
He would send him to prison.
And torment him slowly to death.
That kick earlier—
Was pain he had never experienced in his life.
There was no way he would let this go.
Red looked at him calmly.
"Do you know who I am?"
"You? You're just some lucky trainer."
But then—
Looking at Red's face…
And hearing the name Red—
A terrifying realization struck Dayou.
"…Red?"
"Red?!"
As the face in front of him aligned with his memory—
It was like a bolt of lightning struck him.
His hand trembled as he pointed.
"Y-You're… the Gym Leader of Songzao Gym…"
"You're… that monster's son?!"
"Monster?"
Red smirked.
"Looks like my old man left quite the impression on you."
Dayou's mind flashed back to that night—
At the Indigo Plateau.
A man—
Riding a Dragonite—
Had stormed the place alone.
Elite Four-level trainers—
Figures he once thought untouchable—
Were nothing before that Dragonite.
Like chickens before a hawk.
Even his grandfather's friend—
A retired Elite Four—
Had stepped in to fight.
With six Pokémon—
He barely held the man back.
But then—
The man released two more Pokémon.
A Castform—
And another Pokémon Dayou had never seen before.
From that moment—
The battle turned completely one-sided.
Within minutes—
The retired Elite Four was knocked from the sky—
And shattered into a cloud of blood upon impact.
That scene—
Burned itself into Dayou's memory forever.
Then—
That man, standing atop Dragonite like a god of war, declared:
"My name is Red Pingfeng!"
"Former Gym Leader of Songzao Gym!"
"This old bastard tried to steal the Pokémon I left for my son—he deserves death!"
"If anyone wants revenge—come find me!"
"And if anyone dares touch my son—"
"Next time, I'll be the one knocking on your door!"
Then—
He left just as suddenly.
...
(Of course—
What Dayou didn't know was—
The moment Red Pingfeng left the Indigo Plateau, his imposing aura collapsed completely.)
"Damn it… wasn't that guy just a retired Elite Four?"
"How did he get that weak and just die like that?!"
Red Pingfeng hadn't actually intended to kill him—
He just wanted to stand up for Red.
But now that it had happened—
There was no turning back.
"Faster, Dragonite! I can already sense those Champion-level old monsters coming!"
"Sigh… life is tough. Being too strong is a burden."
...
Back to the present—
"Y-You're really Red?!"
Dayou's legs gave out.
The image of that blood mist flashed in his mind—
And he nearly wet himself.
He had actually tried to rob this man?!
He collapsed to the ground and began kowtowing frantically.
"Gym Leader Red—no, Dad—no, Grandpa!"
"I was wrong! I didn't know it was you!"
"Please, spare me! Treat me like a fart and let me go!"
"If I had known, I'd never dare touch your Pokémon!"
Red remained silent.
Then—
Dayou crawled over and grabbed Masao's leg.
"Masao! We're friends, right?!"
"Please help me! Beg him for me!"
Masao hesitated, a trace of pity flashing across his face.
Then he looked at Red.
Red sighed inwardly.
Still too soft…
But—
With so many people watching—
He chose not to act directly.
Instead, he said coldly:
"From this moment on—"
"As a Gym Leader, I officially revoke your trainer status."
"All your Pokémon are to be confiscated."
Hearing this—
Dayou was overjoyed instead.
"Thank you! Thank you for your mercy!"
"I'll turn over a new leaf! I swear!"
Without hesitation—
He threw down his trainer belt, ID, and all his Poké Balls—
And fled in disgrace with his lackeys.
...
This incident drew plenty of attention.
And on this island—
Nothing escaped Mewtwo's observation.
"Humans…"
"Disgusting creatures."
"No matter what, their greed is never satisfied."
Clearly—
Mewtwo held no positive view of humanity.
At the same time—
It lost interest in watching further.
Deep beneath Elite Island—
Inside an abandoned Team Rocket laboratory—
Massive, intricate machines hummed continuously.
At the center—
Stood rows of enormous incubation tanks.
Inside them—
Were Pokémon of all kinds:
From Gyarados—
To Rattata—
Nearly every species from the Kanto region.
Mewtwo stood there—
Attempting to recreate what had once created it.
To make companions.
The DNA used—
Came from the Pokémon of the tournament participants.
Yet—
Looking at these cloned Pokémon growing inside the tanks—
Mewtwo felt no joy.
No sense of companionship.
Only—
Endless loneliness.
And anger.
(Image note: Young Mewtwo)
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