Because of its unique geographical location, distinctive culture, and unusual urban design, Alto Mare had long been a famous tourist city. Every year, visitors from all regions came here in great numbers—and when Logan arrived in Alto Mare, it happened to be the height of the tourist season.
"After keeping everyone waiting for so long, the Alto Mare Summer Carnival is about to begin! Just like every year, the traditional Pokémon Water Race will start shortly. All contestants, please be ready and follow the referees' instructions…"
As Logan stepped onto the ancient stone bridge of Alto Mare—weathered and steeped in history—he heard the carnival host's amplified voice echoing from loudspeakers along both sides of the canal.
Standing on the bridge, he found himself surrounded by a sea of people. Groups of young friends gathered together, couples held their children in their arms, and families claimed spots along the bridge, laughing and chatting as they pointed excitedly at the competitors below racing through the canal.
"Terrible timing… there are way too many people."
Logan felt no enthusiasm for crowds.
To him, the Water Capital of Alto Mare resembled Venice from his original world. The entire city was built in an old, weathered style, with very few modern structures. At a glance, it was obvious that this was a city with deep historical roots—and it was precisely that long history that attracted countless tourists.
Alto Mare lay within Hoenn, and its visitors came from all over the world. Even though Logan was the Champion of Kanto, not everyone could recognize him. Only a few tourists from Kanto or Johto cast uncertain glances in his direction, yet none dared approach him.
Logan was quite satisfied with this.
He had no desire to live like an idol under constant attention. If possible, he preferred that ordinary people maintain a sense of respectful distance toward him.
"The race… begins!"
With the referee's shout, cheers erupted from the bridge and riverbanks alike. Under the guidance of Water-type Pokémon, the contestants surged forward in a speed contest across the canal.
Logan stopped walking, watching the racers with mild interest.
As a tourist city, Alto Mare thrived on its culture and entertainment. During peak season, all kinds of events were held for visitors to enjoy and participate in together.
"A peaceful life like this really is something to envy."
Logan sighed softly.
Beneath his champion's cloak, his hand rested on a flute that looked part bone, part wood—the Eon Flute.
The material of the Eon Flute itself was unimportant. What truly mattered was the power contained within it: the original essence of Latios and Latias. As long as that power remained, the flute would be nearly indestructible. Even if it were damaged, it could always be remade—so long as that essence endured.
Amid the jostling crowd, the guidance coming from the Eon Flute did not weaken in the slightest. On the contrary, it became clearer and more precise, as though it were drawing closer to its target.
Following the flute's guidance, Logan moved forward at an unhurried pace. As he crossed the center of the bridge and reached its far end, he spotted a girl standing at the boundary between the bridge and the riverbank.
She had long, fiery red hair and wore a baseball cap. On either side of the cap, tufts of hair rose upward, looking like accessories—or perhaps a carefully styled hairstyle.
Most people wouldn't notice anything unusual, likely finding the twin-like hairstyle cute, reminiscent of high ponytails. But Logan, who had interacted with dragons countless times, recognized it instantly.
That hairstyle resembled dragon horns.
The girl looked young—around sixteen or seventeen. She wore a snug brown long-sleeved jacket and fitted jeans that clung closely to her legs, outlining her slender figure. Combined with the glasses perched on her nose, she exuded an air of maturity and modern fashion.
Yet when Logan looked into her equally crimson eyes through those lenses, he noticed something else entirely.
Those eyes brimmed with passion for life and youthful innocence—far less mature than her outward appearance suggested.
Although the glasses and cap concealed most of her face, the glimpse she revealed was enough to show skin as pale as snow and exquisitely delicate features.
That was Logan's impression.
To everyone else, however, she likely looked like a reporter.
Not only was her outfit practical and professional, but she was also holding a microphone, speaking rapidly as she commented on the competitors below—enough to convince anyone she was part of the media.
The people in front of Logan moved away, leaving an open space. He stepped forward, resting both arms casually on the stone railing, staring straight at the girl less than ten meters away.
To any onlooker, this would look exactly like a suspicious man with ill intent, openly tailing a young woman.
The girl's senses were keen, and Logan's gaze was far too bold. Feeling his stare, she paused her reporting and turned around, meeting his eyes across the short distance.
If she had been an ordinary girl, being stared at so blatantly—handsome man or not—would have caused panic. But her reaction was completely different.
Upon noticing Logan watching her, she simply nodded at him, flashed a bright smile that revealed pearly teeth, and laughed cheerfully.
"The first place has been decided!!"
At that moment, a roar from the loudspeakers pulled her attention back. She quickly turned around again, raising her hands and cheering along with the crowd, her speech into the microphone becoming even faster as she described the race's outcome.
The young winner stepped onto the podium amid applause, accepting prizes from the carnival organizers. As the event concluded, the surrounding crowd gradually dispersed, continuing their sightseeing throughout the distinctive city.
The girl, who looked very much like a reporter, hoisted an extremely heavy camera onto her shoulder and vanished into the crowd in the blink of an eye.
Logan followed immediately, continuing his tail.
He watched as the girl carried the massive shoulder-mounted camera with one hand, moving with astonishing strength and speed—rivaling even the legendary reporters of Hong Kong—making Logan's pursuit significantly more difficult.
Before long, the girl turned into a narrow side path. Logan quickened his pace and followed—but after walking barely a hundred meters, he found himself facing a wall.
A dead end.
The girl had vanished.
"Residual psychic energy…"
Logan murmured, gripping the Eon Flute beneath his champion's cloak.
"Judging from the flute's reaction, she must be one of the targets. The other target is also in Alto Mare, but that one has been completely still."
"To be safe, I'll make contact first. I can't afford any mistakes."
Logan made his decision.
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