Inside the dry-aging room of an exclusive restaurant, the soft glow of spotlights caught the intricate marbling of deep crimson beef. On a cast-iron grill, a steak was flipped with a rhythmic sizzle, sending the aroma of seared fat and cracked black pepper into the air. A waiter in white gloves glided past the ornate ironwork of a vintage elevator, accompanied by the soothing notes of a live piano.
Cynthia tore a piece of crusty white bread and dipped it into the rich jus on her plate. "So, you're saying his information is protected by the League?"
The young man across from her took a sip of juice and nodded. "Exactly. I searched the standard databases and found nothing. At first, I thought he was just an unregistered citizen, but that didn't make sense. To upload a game to the official portal, you must provide valid ID. The League doesn't let 'ghosts' publish software."
He leaned in closer. "That leaves only one possibility: his identity is scrubbed from the public side and moved to the Hidden Database. It's a black-box archive."
Cynthia's elegant eyebrows rose. As I suspected. The Hidden Database wasn't for common criminals; it was a sanctuary designed for individuals whose safety was a matter of global security. Not even her own records as the Sinnoh Champion were stored there. Only geniuses with world-altering technology or figures of immense geopolitical weight received that level of shielding.
"I could try to breach it," the young man offered, stabbing a piece of steak. "I'm not 100% sure, but I'd give myself a thirty percent chance of success. Maybe forty if I really push it."
Cynthia shook her head gently, setting her bread down. "No, Wheat. I appreciate the offer, but if it involves hitting a Tier-1 hidden server, we drop it."
The young man, known as Wheat, looked stunned. "Why? I thought you were desperate for this guy's contact info?"
He knew her well. To the world, Cynthia was the flawless, untouchable Champion. But to those in her inner circle, she was a woman possessed by ancient myths. When a lead on a legend like the "Sky Dragon" Rayquaza appeared, she usually wouldn't let anything stand in her way.
"The risk is too high," Cynthia said firmly. "You already got flagged once for accessing High-Tier files just to find my location. If the League catches you poking around the Hidden Database, a 'letter of self-reflection' won't save you this time."
Cough, cough!
Wheat nearly choked on his steak. He pounded his chest for a few seconds before recovering. "Sis, we agreed never to bring that up! I was young and my terminal was slow back then. Things are different now! I can ghost their tracers before they even wake up."
"No. It's unnecessary," Cynthia insisted. "If his status is that high, I should respect his rules."
"His rules?" Wheat chewed thoughtfully.
"The game, Emerald," Cynthia nodded. "The rule is simple: be the first to clear it, and you get the contact info. I'll earn it the right way."
"Heh! You should have said so. I'm a pro gamer," Wheat bragged, puffing out his chest. "Give it to me. I'll clear it in minutes. What is it? A racer? A shooter? A card game?"
Cynthia just looked at him, pity in her eyes. She remembered thinking the same thing. How hard could a Pokémon battle simulator be? Then "Strawberry Ice Cream" had been wiped out twice by a rival kid.
"It's... different," she said finally. "It's a battle sim, but the difficulty is... substantial."
Wheat froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Substantial? Cynthia, the woman at the pinnacle of the trainer world, was calling a simulation "difficult"? Just how brutal was this game?
"I'll send you a copy later," Cynthia added. "Try it when you have a free moment."
Wheat shrugged, instantly backing down. "Sure, but I'm pretty busy. Might take a while."
Cynthia saw through him but didn't push. She shifted the conversation to a darker topic. "Has the expansion of the 'Black Holes' accelerated?"
"Yeah," Wheat's playful tone vanished. "The last one was easy enough to patch, but a new one opened in Hoenn this afternoon. The energy fluctuations were off the charts. I have to fly out tonight."
Cynthia's gaze dimmed. "You're working too hard."
"Look who's talking," Wheat countered. "I heard the Distortion World hasn't been quiet lately either."
Cynthia remained silent for a moment before standing up. "No matter how hard it gets, it will pass. We do our duty for the sake of the innocent. That's enough."
She nodded to him, finished her drink, and turned to leave. "Take care of yourself, Wheat. Don't overdo it."
"You too, Sis! Catch you later!"
Wheat watched her graceful exit, a surge of admiration in his chest. That's the mentor I want to be one day.
A waiter approached the table. "Excuse me, sir. We noticed your companion has departed. Would you like the check?"
"Did she pay on the way out?" Wheat asked.
"No, sir. She walked straight to the elevator."
Wheat blinked. "Oh. Right. So... what's the total?"
"Thirteen thousand, two hundred and fifty PokéDollars, sir. QR or Card?"
Wheat: "..." Didn't she say she was treating me?! Why did I order the dry-aged Wagyu?! He looked at his near-empty wallet. "Um... do you take IOUs?"
High above, sitting comfortably on Garchomp's back, Cynthia had a sudden, fleeting thought. Wait... did I forget something back there?Meh, probably not important.
"Garchomp, home. We have a Gym to conquer."
Two hours later, she was back in her villa, the glow of the monitor illuminating her determined face. She booted up Emerald and turned on her livestream.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm back."
The chat erupted instantly, but one comment stood out: [Hurry up, Nana! Iono is already at the first Gym!]
"Iono?" Cynthia murmured. She knew the girl, talented, a bit flashy, but a solid Electric-type specialist. She pulled up Iono's stream on her phone and watched for a moment.
Iono was a mess. Her face was flushed with "gamer rage," her hands clenched. "Paralyze! Just stay paralyzed!! AGH, IT HEALED AGAIN!"
Cynthia watched as Iono was unceremoniously sent back to the Pokémon Center. Is the first Gym really that taxing? Then, she saw the Lileep on Iono's screen.
Cynthia froze. She knew that shape. She took a screenshot, attached it to a message, and sent it to a contact named Professor Oak.
[Cynthia]: Professor, take a look. Is this the 'Fossil Pokémon' you were talking about?
Professor Oak was the world's leading authority, but Cynthia knew he was currently chairing a massive international summit. She didn't expect a reply for hours.
Her phone vibrated instantly. It was a direct call from Oak.
Cynthia muted her stream mic. "Professor? Aren't you in the middle of a global seminar?"
"This is infinitely more important!" Oak's voice was breathless, coming through the speaker like a gale. "Cynthia, where did you get this image?! It's a pixel render, yes, but the anatomical markers... it's a near-perfect match for our theoretical model! In fact, some of the detail in the tentacle structure is better than our best projections!"
"It's from a game called Pokémon: Emerald," Cynthia replied.
A long silence followed. "A... a game?" Oak's brain seemed to stutter. He had expected the image to come from a rival fossil lab.
After a minute of explanation, Oak finally understood. "So... the dev is a mystery, and you have to beat the game to find him?"
"Yes. I think he knows something about Rayquaza, too."
"I see," Oak said, his tone shifting. "That explains why you're interested."
Then, his voice jumped three octaves. "WAIT!" "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!" "RAYQUAZA?!!!"