thefictionvixens Chapter 216 How to Use the Poké Ball
Chapter 216 How to Use the Poké Ball
Chapter 227 How to Use a Poké Ball
N has lived deep within the castle built by Quixote since childhood.
In that enormous, dreamlike room that never saw the light of day, the green-haired boy spent his entire childhood, day after day, year after year.
He had long realized that the Pokémon around him, whom he considered friends, were actually deliberately chosen by his father—the boy, who could understand the thoughts of Pokémon from birth, saw through the truth his father was hiding from the very beginning.
However, for some reason, the boy did not become estranged from the chosen elves because of this. Instead, he wholeheartedly regarded them as his companions, and it would not be an exaggeration to say that they depended on each other for survival.
The Pokémon's circumstances varied, but they had all suffered incredibly cruel deception, betrayal, and even abuse in the human world. During the time when N first met them, whenever all was quiet and the night was deep in the air, some Pokémon would suddenly wake up from nightmares, crying out loud without warning or unleashing a berserk attack.
So N heard all sorts of inner thoughts—
The wandering Pokémon in the city would endlessly complain about the hypocrisy and indifference of humans. In the eyes of the Pokémon, compared to Pokémon that can use moves, humans are very weak creatures. But it is precisely because they are so weak that when humans discover wild Pokémon that are even weaker and more helpless than themselves, they will unleash a chilling cruelty.
Even after a full meal, the elf, who had been imprisoned by a ruthless merchant, would still crave food and water. Although the other party would obediently fall silent as long as N said no, the fear and hunger in her heart would still cry out for an end.
Elves who have suffered abuse in the past will go into a frenzy of hysteria as soon as they realize no one is near them. Their mournful cries and shouts are equally shrill and loud, enough to pierce the heart of any listener...
Even so, despite spending more than a decade surrounded by such sentiments, there has been no one who harbors hatred towards humanity.
For the first time, I truly understood the essence of the relationship between humans and Shen Jiaqing. It was a partnership of sharing joys and sorrows and supporting each other, a friendship that was sometimes quarrelsome and sometimes harmonious. Even the relationship between slave owners and slaves was more equal than that—humans had simply turned Soroya into a convenient tool that couldn't be carefully put away and taken away.
Before N woke up, Pokémon K—the friend people called the wild Pokémon—showed a relieved and worried expression.
—That was N's original thought.
N's previous consciousness seemed to be blank, but he remembered what happened on this day.
The red and white ball closed. At first, it wobbled a few times, like a baboon struggling, but the struggle was effective, and soon it began to move.
...What, what exactly is that thing? Is life something that can't be easily packed away and put away?
"Oh. You mean those, right? That's bad too."
Sage Simla stepped back and addressed his students.
It doesn't seem like I'm using you. However—
"Father, what are you going to do?"
I only remember waking up on the seventh day somewhere in Team Plasma's castle, next to a Zoroar I had never seen before—yes, not that I had never seen it before, but that its inner form had changed.
Dizziness and lightheadedness washed over him, his internal organs feeling compressed by the churning blood. A suppressed force surged downwards, instantly filling his cheeks. Before his mouth could be properly covered by his hands, the force contracted again in his abdomen, finally breaking through all barriers—
N nodded, fully aware of what her father was saying, as it made perfect sense.
After Quidditch planned to put the eighth Poké Ball outside of N's hands—
My speech, like the blackboard writing in his classroom, is unique, full of inexplicable technical terms.
Behind the Tower of Heaven, N stared intently at the detective in white, awaiting my answer.
Tears, snot, runny nose, saliva, stomach acid, vomit... For many years, as a candidate for king, he supported himself with his hands on the ground without any regard for appearances, and filth kept pouring out of his mouth and nose.
Seeing that the student didn't react, Smura assumed N understood her meaning and recalled the Rolling Bat back out of the Poké Ball. The unspoken message, only half-conveyed, vanished once again as if extinguished.
Thus, N was granted the freedom to move around freely for the first time—of course, that freedom was limited to the closed castle.
...Those kinds of restraints, which are like collars, chains and bite guards, and are devoid of any insult or friendliness, have been developed and manufactured generation after generation, just like everyday items that are everywhere.
"Shen Jiaqing, yes, Pokémon K, has it regressed?"
This is the Daruma baboon, once imprisoned in a stone cell by poachers for dozens of days, left to eat and drink nothing, which caused it to develop a voracious appetite. However, after years of living with others, it slightly changed some of its good habits. Now, if it gets a berry treat before its meal, the Daruma baboon can't resist the urge to eat, a tactic beneficial to its weakness. Whenever it manages to overcome its appetite, that tiny fire-type sprite will eagerly approach N, asking me to pat its head as a reward. Although its body is ablaze with flames, its tiny smile always makes it seem reliable and trustworthy. When the weather is hot, N and the other sprites will sleep around the Daruma baboon—those nights often bring bad dreams…
The father frowned blatantly, but the other eight sages thought that was not a good idea.
The distant horizon is boundless with people, and we will all become that green-haired man's enemy for many years.
"Is that a toy? Or some kind of weapon for self-defense?"
"Wait a minute! Where did the Dharma Baboon and the Rolling Bat go? What are they doing? What is that ball?"
As the red light flashed once more, the swarming bats reappeared before their eyes. The voice of the fluttering-winged sprite resounded, expressing its confusion to N.
N stood up silently, and behind him was the blue sky and the vast land he was seeing for the first time. All seven were so expansive, but at this moment, he still had the expectations he once had.
The Zoroastrians, who had been hiding timidly behind the furniture outside the room because of a wise man, hurriedly poked their heads out again when they saw N turn around.
At this moment, the Damo baboon watched N's actions with utter bewilderment. It watched helplessly as the red and white object traced a parabola in the air and crashed into its own narrow forehead, adorned with two fiery eyebrows.
Quixote released N's hand, stroking the red and white Ethereal Poké Ball outside, but showed no intention of answering. Was the look of confusion flickering in his father's eyes?
“You just broke a few empty ones, so use these.” Sage Vio fumbled in the inner pocket of his robe, just like I usually take out my paper and pen for calculating formulas, and pulled out a few round things from his sleeve.
Several details I had previously overlooked came together to reveal the truth: Why couldn't humans, stronger than Zorro, be allowed to bully and humiliate Pokémon at will? Why did trainers consider capturing Pokémon and keeping them by their side a daily routine? Why would creatures from the same Shen family so devotedly help humans, even assisting us in abusing our own kind?
It is red and white, with no switch-like protrusion in the middle, and the material is somewhere between metal and plastic, and it appears to be hollow.
I may have heard of it before, but seeing it in person was a first. This is how I connected knowledge with the reality before my eyes.
"Poké Ball," "recycle," "capture"—which world's vocabulary does this come from?
The Rolling Bat. Having suffered cruel and inhumane abuse at the hands of humans, it would likely emit low-frequency sonic waves to express its fear if an unfamiliar person approached. Now, seeing its father, one of the wise ones, gathered outside the room, it probably wasn't trembling with fear... it just didn't scream for N's sake. The Rolling Bat's eyes are covered by light blue fur, so it dislikes sniffing its companions with its heart-shaped nose. Perhaps for that reason, it lacks a sense of boundaries with those it trusts. When it wants to show affection, it will, like the dog Zoroa, use its tongue above its fangs to wet the other person's cheek...
"Let's start with this one." Quixote's words were unusually gentle, as if revealing a hint of compassion, and N was momentarily moved.
That was even a conspiracy. A wise man may have committed, or will commit, several forgivable crimes, but that one would certainly be among them.
The message was so obvious that we forgot to teach N what this red and white spherical thing was—forgot to tell me that there wasn't a capture item in the world that could shrink and strengthen Zorua and trap it inside the sphere.
Quixote didn't answer, but guided N to turn around and face his friends outside the room.
It was simply because that matter was so extraordinary that, for more than a decade, the sages completely forgot to tell that green-haired man who was isolated from the real world a certain message, nothing more.
The questions came out like a machine gun, especially from N's mouth, and the metaphor used there was really ironic.
...What do we, all of humanity, really think of Zorya, your friends?
Seeing N's expression, Joggs suddenly realized and explained—that it wasn't a Poké Ball used by humans to control Zorua. Its history couldn't be traced back to after the League calendar; it was a technological product created using the principle that Shen Jiaqing grew larger after being injured.
The phantom Zorua, with its jet-white fur, didn't launch into its usual long, drawn-out complaints. It was then that N noticed the numerous wounds covering its body—marks left when it was attacked by the guards who knew the truth as it stumbled out of the Plasma Group base.
The ball was thrown out quickly. Zoroya, who had been leisurely dancing outside the room, vanished without a trace.
what--
Quixote raised N's left hand and aimed it at the smallest elf in the room. He then tossed the object in his hand out.
This is why I understand that a carefully selected sample can absolutely represent the overall situation of the data. Just as there are no positive or negative numbers on a number line, there are no bad or good people among humans. Although there are persecuted individuals like Shen Jiaqing in the world, there should also be individuals like Soroya who receive human care.
Seeing that N still didn't understand, Smura picked up the Poké Ball of the Rolling Bat and pressed the button in the center after many years.
The most arrogant ambitious man, the most ruthless speculator, the most sincere seeker of truth, the most cold-blooded fanatic, the most profound researcher, the most cunning conspiracy theorist, the most brilliant engineer—a wise man, with the same qualifications, past, profession, and viewpoints, we have all coincidentally committed the same error…
The red and white sphere opened, shooting out a beam of red light. The Daruma baboon was suddenly enveloped in the scarlet light, then gradually shrank, faded, and disappeared completely, transforming into a ray of light and vanishing into the sphere.
The words wanted to come out, but they choked in my throat and, with the surge of anger, became something else entirely.
Even with N's best assumptions about humanity, I never expected such a tool to exist.
Zorua was not originally a creature that could not live alongside humans.
The sages exchanged glances, seemingly understanding the significance of the coded message, and nodded in agreement. Each face wore a peculiar expression of bewilderment.
What's even more ironic is that these chosen Pokémon all came from the fringes of human society and had been kept in captivity by humans in a legitimate way for a long time. Therefore, they also did not mention the existence of this item to N.
This is something that N, who lives in the room, has never seen before.
"N, what's wrong with you?" Quixote looked at N, who hadn't yet covered his mouth and squatted down, with a puzzled expression.
The vomit soiled the sleeves of some sage, but it was enough to get rid of it. N dry-heaved again and again, as if weeping blood and vomiting air, but still had no way to stop his nausea.
On this day, for the first time in many years, he expressed his desire to one of the sages who had taught him: "I wish to see the world inside, even if it's just to step out of the room and wander around the castle outside the door."
...grotesque, bizarre, twisted, beautiful, disgusting, undignified, shameless, nauseating. Stop joking, stop making those kinds of jokes. Why? By what right? Why do they understand? Why remain silent? Why treat that as common sense? Why treat your personalityless partner like this? Are you ashamed? Do you realize you're doing something wrong?
Joggs was still enthusiastically telling me about the evolution of Poké Balls from smooth to rough, as well as the various types of Poké Balls.
N's eyes narrowed as he witnessed an astonishing scene.
That can only be described as a miraculous oversight...
Ugh, waaaaaah...
My father's voice reached my ears, but I didn't feel that what I had done was anything strange or special. The seventh sphere was shoved into N's palm.
"Let's choose this rolling bat next."
N discovers for the first time that the world inside the tiny room is vastly different from her imagination.
I definitely knew what was going to happen a second ago, and I would definitely have thought that way.
After all, once you see the actual object, how can mere words possibly describe its function?
It's just that N hasn't met us yet.
Quixote answered.
The enormous body of the Damo baboon vanished from sight in an instant.
“Those two Pokémon are in trouble, N-man. They were just retrieved from their Poké Balls. Quixote was helping him catch Pokémon.”
Joggs, who taught history to N, immediately understood what Quixote meant and said, "It's time to put on a show."
I grasped N's hand, and through my son's hand, picked up the object from under Vio's palm.
It's heavy. It feels like a capsule. Because it was just taken out of my pocket, it's not cold.
"Oh, right," Quixote suddenly said to N, "Since he wants to move around inside, he needs stronger protection, right?"
"For some, it's just a toy. For others, it can't be a weapon either."
N was stunned for a moment.
Although I have never set foot in the world inside the room, I do not have a good teacher who can provide me with enough knowledge to understand the world through daily one-on-one instruction.
The whispers of N's bad friend that had been lingering in his ears suddenly vanished, leaving only silence.
It conveyed its message to N that the Darmanitan and the Bumblebee had broken free of their Poké Balls and were being stopped by a sage while trying to break through with the help of a Pokémon. They were likely to be harmed. Then, it simply fell into a coma in N's arms.
.
This gentle baboon seemed to have never existed as anything special; behind its eye was only a fist-sized spherical capsule. At that time, it appeared that something wasn't yet inside it.
Until the day I walked out of the room.
I'm sure that if all people in the world could interact with each other in the same way I do with the elves outside this room, communicating and understanding one another, then we would have the chance to heal each other.
...Is there any human being, any Zoroya, who could see, discover, and speak out about the twisted aspects of this thing?