No Quotation marks or Quotations for dialogue
IDK I like without quotation marks. : )
~~~
The Old Smoker held his pipe in his mouth without touching it with his hands, using only his good right eye to glance at the bag.
He gestured toward the Murkrow perched on a nearby stand.
The Murkrow fluttered down, using its mechanical beak to deftly untie the rope at the bag's opening, then scratched at the contents with its claws.
The first things that rolled out were several red-and-white spheres, the ordinary Poké Balls Kairos carried with him.
Hmm?
The Old Smoker raised an eyebrow, seeming slightly more interested.
He reached out and picked one up, examining it carefully under the dim yellow light, his fingers stroking the smooth surface of the sphere.
This craftsmanship... pretty ancient. Nobody uses these clunky, inefficient containment devices anymore. Kid, where'd you get your hands on this thing?
Kairos didn't answer, just lifted his chin slightly, signaling the Murkrow to continue.
The Murkrow pulled out another item from the bag, a compact object with a metal connector: a USB drive.
At the sight of this, the Old Smoker's eye clearly brightened.
He took the USB drive and weighed it in his hand, a trace of satisfaction appearing on his face.
Tsk, a storage disk? And one with this kind of old-school physical interface... Haven't seen one of these in nearly a few hundred years. A genuine antique. Not bad at all.
Watching his reaction, Kairos felt more confident about his assessment.
Just as he'd thought. This world's tech tree was way too advanced.
Even civilian technology far exceeded what he was familiar with from the Pokémon world.
Conversely, items from his world had become rare collectibles here.
Any random thing he brought out could pass for an antique. A classic transmigration trope, ancient items becoming valuable in the modern era.
Finally, Kairos withdrew from his system space a green berry that gave off a faint, pleasant fragrance and gently placed it on the table.
This was something he'd obtained from a previous emotion-point lottery draw, a special berry that could slightly enhance the abilities of Dark-type Pokémon: the Colbur Berry.
This one's an extra gift as a token of goodwill, for your Murkrow. It'll do him a world of good.
Kairos smiled.
However, this seemingly ordinary berry made the Old Smoker's expression change instantly.
He sat bolt upright, nearly dropping his pipe from his mouth.
He stared fixedly at the fruit, his eyes full of disbelief. His previous laid-back attitude vanished in an instant, replaced by extreme seriousness and astonishment.
His reaction was far stronger than when he'd seen the other two items.
He waved his hand, and the mechanical Murkrow immediately snatched up the Poké Balls and USB drive, flying back to the stand to fiddle with them.
The Old Smoker then made a gesture toward the doorway.
The two hulking subordinates who had been standing like iron towers by the door immediately withdrew silently, closing the metal door of the secret room behind them.
Only Kairos, Axuan, and the Old Smoker remained in the room. Axuan stayed close to Kairos, clutching the backpack in her arms, while Litwick's faint flame flickered through the gaps in the bag, casting barely visible light.
The Old Smoker took a deep breath, smoke slowly seeping from his nostrils.
His gaze sharpened, looking directly at Kairos as he lowered his voice and asked, word by word, You... aren't from our world, are you?
Kairos froze for a moment. How did this guy figure that out?
He'd originally just wanted to find out why the game was banned.
He hadn't intended to reveal his identity or origins, since normally people wouldn't believe it anyway.
The other party must have deduced something from the items he'd given, specifically from that berry.
But why would a single berry lead to such a bold assumption?
Did this world not have this type of berry?
But that didn't make sense logically.
The Old Smoker couldn't possibly know every berry in existence. That shouldn't be the reason.
Kairos stopped overthinking and simply nodded, candidly confirming, That's right. I come from another world.
The Old Smoker fell silent, just quietly smoking his pipe.
Through the swirling smoke, the expression on his face shifted uncertainly.
After a long while, he finally exhaled a heavy smoke ring, his voice carrying a complex emotion.
No wonder... So what exactly are you doing in this dump, trying to dig up information?
Kairos gave a brief account of what had happened.
After arriving in this world, he'd created and released a game called Pokémon: Dark Phantom, but it was quickly banned entirely by this world's so-called Alliance.
Then a mysterious person contacted him, saying the game's content was problematic, and directed him to find the Old Smoker for answers.
A game? What kind of game could stir up this much trouble? The Old Smoker seemed somewhat surprised.
Without further explanation, Kairos pulled out another USB drive and plugged it into an equally ancient-looking computer interface in the corner of the secret room.
The computer screen flickered a few times before barely starting up.
Kairos operated it briefly and pulled up a meticulously crafted CG animation from Pokémon: Dark Phantom.
This segment showed Rayquaza soaring through the ozone layer, with a spectacular view of azure oceans and green continents below.
The moment the footage played, both the Old Smoker and Axuan beside him froze.
The Old Smoker's eye widened, his mouth slightly agape, pipe tilting to one side.
He didn't even notice when ash fell onto his coat.
Axuan seemed completely mesmerized.
That vast blue sky on the screen, those surging ocean waves, those endless, vibrant forests... All of it was something he'd never seen in all his years, couldn't even imagine.
A world that had vanished five hundred years ago, presented in such a vivid, stunning way right before their eyes. The impact was overwhelming.
When the CG finished playing and the screen went dark, the Old Smoker still hadn't snapped out of it for a long time.
Only when Kairos cleared his throat lightly did the Old Smoker's body tremble, his gaze complex as he looked at Kairos.
Sigh... The Old Smoker let out a long sigh, removing the long-extinguished pipe from his mouth and tapping it against the corner of the table.
Normally, no matter how much money someone threw at me, I'd never breathe a word of this intel.
But today... considering that gift you brought and where you're from, I'll make an exception.
He paused, as if organizing his thoughts, then spoke in an unusually somber voice.
Kid, listen carefully.
This place we're living in, this so-called 'city,' isn't anything like a normal world. We're... actually living underground, in a massive artificially constructed shelter.
Kairos's heart jolted. Though he'd already had some suspicions, he really hadn't expected it to be like this.
He instinctively glanced at Axuan beside him. At that moment, he too had his eyes wide open, clearly hearing this claim for the first time as well.
About five hundred years ago, something struck the surface, a disaster no one today can fully explain.
The world above was devastated almost instantly. The atmosphere became unstable, the land uninhabitable, and most Pokémon did not survive.
The few who did, humans and Pokémon alike, had no choice but to take refuge in underground shelters that were already under construction at the time.
That is where we are now. Generation after generation, we have survived down here, the Old Smoker said quietly.
The Alliance, the ones who rule this place, seized power shortly after the disaster struck.
The first and most important thing they did was seal off all information about the past.
They rewrote history textbooks, destroyed all records, used every means at their disposal to make people living here completely forget we once had blue skies and white clouds, forget the fact that we're actually living deep underground.
They call this the 'Great Lockdown' and the 'Forgetting Protocol.'
He pointed at the now-darkened computer screen.
And this game you made... what was it called, Pokémon: Dark Phantom?
The things depicted in it, blue skies, oceans, forests... in this world, these are the ultimate taboo, things that absolutely shouldn't exist.
The Alliance would never allow anyone to spread this kind of information, because it shakes the very foundation of their rule.
That's why they moved so fast, sparing no cost to ban your game, and they're definitely doing everything they can to track you down.
Understanding dawned on Kairos immediately.
No wonder he'd felt something was off ever since arriving in this world.
The sky always had that unnatural white color, the air always smelled of machine oil and recycled gases, even the sun looked strange.
Turns out he'd been inside a massive underground space all along.
But if that was the case, Kairos found himself a bit puzzled.
The Alliance in his original world didn't seem to have any intention of banning his game.
If they really wanted to do that, could they even manage it?
As he pondered this, the system promptly provided an answer to his internal question.
[Host, please note: in the first world you transmigrated to, the system shielded your identity while also elevating your game's network privileges.
No one could influence your game by any means. However, worlds connected through the Dimensional Communicator do not receive this protection.]
Kairos was momentarily stunned when he heard this.
So that's how it was... Looked like he really did need to resolve this issue.
At the same time, the Old Smoker stopped talking, his gaze falling on Kairos once more.
His meaning was obvious: if you want more explosive intel, it's time to pay up.
Naturally, Kairos understood what he meant.
He directly pulled out several different types of berries from his system space, one of each kind that he'd obtained from previous lottery draws.
After thinking for a moment, he also took out a Great Ball and placed everything in front of the Old Smoker.
These things weren't particularly valuable to him, but for this underground world, especially for someone knowledgeable like the Old Smoker, they were genuine treasures.
The Old Smoker looked at the small pile of naturally fragrant items on the table, his eyes going straight.
The Murkrow flew down without needing instruction, carefully picking up all the items and locking them in a large metal cabinet.
He seemed even more satisfied with Kairos's payment, rubbing his hands together, the wrinkles on his face smoothing out somewhat.
He continued in a lowered voice.
Moving on. The Alliance has a specialized agency called the Historical Truth Management Bureau.
Nice-sounding name, but what they do is dirty work, erasing all traces of history.
The investigation into you and your game is very likely being led by them.
These guys use some seriously underhanded methods. You'd better be careful. Crossing them is no joke.
Kairos waved his hand dismissively, signaling it was fine.
There probably wasn't anyone in this world who could threaten him yet.
To obtain more information, he took out a Rare Candy and placed it on the table.
Though the Old Smoker didn't know the exact effects of this candy, he could clearly sense the peculiar energy contained within it and naturally knew it was another good item.
The Old Smoker took a deep breath, in a good mood. It had been a long time since he'd acquired so many quality goods.
He no longer hesitated and revealed a deeper secret.
As for the surface world, that's about all I know and can tell you.
But in this Lower District, there exists a secret organization called the 'Watchers.'
Watchers? Kairos repeated the name.
Yeah.
The Old Smoker nodded, his expression growing even more serious.
Supposedly they're descendants of survivors from the era of the Great Catastrophe, passed down secretly through generations.
Like preserving the last embers of a fire, they've been covertly passing on fragmentary information and legends about the surface world, steadfast in their belief that the truth will one day reemerge. I... guess I'm sort of an outside contact for them.
He glanced at Kairos.
The answers you're looking for, about how to deal with the Alliance, or perhaps... maybe even finding a way to the 'above,' might have to start with a relic the Watchers have preserved.
What relic?
Remnant pages called the 'Survivor's Diary.'
The Old Smoker looked left and right, appearing quite vigilant.
Supposedly left behind by someone who personally experienced that catastrophe five hundred years ago.
It not only records the horrors of the disaster but might also mention clues about an ancient passage to the surface world that may not be completely sealed: the 'Sky Vault.'
Kairos's interest was immediately piqued. A passage back to the surface world?
After going through that disaster and another five hundred years, he was genuinely curious what the surface of this world had become.
But the remnant pages are hidden deep, in the depths of the Old Data Port.
That place is now the Alliance's waste data processing center.
The surface security isn't too heavy, but the environment inside is complicated, full of scrapped machines and automated cleaning robots on patrol.
The Old Smoker warned, As long as you don't alert those cleaning robots, there shouldn't be much of a problem. But for the exact location of the remnant pages, you'll need to meet with the Watchers first.
After hearing this, Kairos made his decision.
First, he'd go see what kind of people these Watchers were, then head to that Old Data Port to find the remnant pages of the Survivor's Diary.
With that in hand, he could better understand the truth of this world and figure out how to proceed.
No time to waste. Kairos stood up. Thanks. Give me the address.
The Old Smoker didn't say much more, quickly scratching out an approximate set of coordinates on a scrap of metal and handing it to Kairos, snorting through his nose.
Good luck, kid. Remember, if the History Bureau people get on your tail, run. Don't mess with those guys... they're all crazy.