Establishing Pokedex on Earth Chapter 81 - 75 — Fear is Currency

While I slept, the world did not pause, because it never had and never would, no matter how violently events unfolded the day before.

By morning, new pages had already appeared across social dia platforms, encrypted forums, and fringe blogs, their nas spreading faster than fact-checks could chase them down, multiplying through reposts and algorithmic amplification before anyone could properly respond.

Earth Liberation.

The branding was clean, aggressive, and calculated with surgical precision, designed not rely to inform but to provoke, to spread, and to embed itself into public consciousness before doubt had ti to form.

Their first wave was not text, because text required patience and interpretation.

It was video.

Clips were stitched together with deliberate cruelty and ruthless editing—Pokémon lashing out in visible panic, trainers screaming in terror, civilians running in chaos. Monts were ripped violently from context and rearranged to suggest inevitability rather than confusion, and fras were frozen just long enough to burn themselves into mory.

There were no tistamps and no visible locations, and certainly no verification of authenticity.

There was only fear.

Once attention had been secured, they followed it with guides that were frad as instructional material, though they were anything but educational.

They were propaganda masquerading as instruction.

"How to properly train Pokémon."

The thods described within were horrific in their clarity and coldness.

Starvation was labeled as "discipline," electric shocks were justified as "conditioning," isolation was refrad as "breaking dependency," and chains were marketed as "control tools necessary for survival."

Pokémon were reduced to instrunts—tools to be bent, punished, weaponized, and discarded when inconvenient.

Any bond beyond obedience was mocked openly, described as sentintal weakness that endangered humanity.

Coexistence, they claid, was a lie sold to the naïve.

"Force ensures survival."

"Dominance prevents extinction."

"rcy is human arrogance."

The slogans spread with frightening efficiency, clipped into short quotes, reposted as graphics, embedded into reaction threads, and translated across languages with disturbing speed.

So people recoiled at what they saw.

Others nodded quietly in agreent.

Radical sentint did not need much encouragent, especially among those who had already been afraid—those who had lost family mbers during early zone outbreaks, those whose hos had been destroyed overnight, and those who had watched monsters appear in their skies without being given ti to grieve or process what had happened to their world.

Anger, once planted, required only direction.

Hashtags trended across multiple countries within hours, and copycat pages erged in different languages with different administrators but identical ssaging.

The faces were different.

The ssage remained the sa.

This was not limited to India.

It was everywhere.

Most governnts reacted quickly, because in the digital age hesitation is interpreted as weakness and weakness invites escalation.

Firewalls were raised, domains were blocked, and accounts were mass-flagged and taken down under ergency policies.

Public statents followed soon after, filled with stern condemnations, zero-tolerance declarations, and carefully structured press briefings referencing "extremist misinformation" and "threats to public safety."

On the surface, the response looked decisive and morally aligned.

The truth, however, was quieter and far less noble.

Many of them did not act because they fundantally disagreed with Earth Liberation's ideology.

They acted because they rembered what I had said.

They rembered the discussion about legendaries and the forces that did not care about borders, armies, political narratives, or economic power structures. They rembered that so consequences could not be negotiated with once provoked, and that escalation at a global level would not remain contained within human control.

Fear of retaliation—not morality—had pushed them into alignnt.

By the ti I woke up, my phone was vibrating relentlessly against the bedside table, unread reports stacking faster than I could process them, encrypted briefings marked with red priority tags, and summaries condensed into sterile bullet points that tried to contain sothing inherently volatile.

I sat up slowly, and the events of the previous day returned not as sharp images but as a dull and suffocating weight pressing against my ribs.

The bullet.

The blood.

Priape collapsing at my feet.

I opened the first report.

Assailant identification was confird, and the shooter was a foreign national who had entered the country weeks earlier under a forged work visa. There was no prior criminal record under his real na, but extensive digital footprints tied him to extremist forums and encrypted recruitnt channels.

The second report detailed affiliation, identifying links to Earth Liberation-associated cells that were not officially registered and had no confird central command structure.

The third report addressed leadership, stating that no identifiable figureheads had been discovered and no traceable funding routes had yet been mapped.

The fourth report, however, articulated what everyone was already considering but unwilling to state openly.

The intelligence assessnt concluded there was a high probability of backing from ultra-wealthy private interests across multiple countries, including families with historic political influence, economic dominance, and access to private security networks.

These were people accustod to shaping the world quietly, people who understood that grief could be leveraged and fear could be monetized.

They did not need to lead a movent directly.

They only needed to fund it, amplify it, and allow it to corrode society from within.

I set the phone down and stared at the ceiling, letting that realization settle without softening it.

Earth Liberation was not a spontaneous uprising fueled by pure ideology.

It was a pressure release chanism.

It was a container for anger, loss, and resentnt, redirected not at chaos itself but at the concept of coexistence.

They did not want safety.

They wanted control.

For the first ti since the rge, I understood sothing with absolute clarity.

This was not a fight against Pokémon.

It was a fight against a particular kind of human mindset—the kind that had always believed the world existed to obey them.

Before replying to any ssage or acknowledging any report, I stepped outside to check on Priape.

The backyard was quiet when I released him from his Pokéball, light flaring briefly before fading into the familiar shape of his broad fra.

Priape stood there with his chest rising steadily and his fists unclenched at his sides. His fur was clean and unmarked, with no blood or torn flesh visible, because Evergreen power and dical treatnt had done their work thoroughly.

Physically, he was whole.

ntally, the aftermath was still present.

His eyes scanned the yard sharply at first, muscles coiling instinctively as if expecting another attack that never ca.

Gradually, recognition replaced vigilance.

The familiar fence stood undisturbed, the mango tree cast its steady shade, and the quiet hum of ho settled around him like a shield.

His shoulders lowered, and his breathing slowed, while the rage that had defined him only hours earlier receded into sothing steadier and heavier.

I exhaled slowly and walked toward him with deliberate visibility, ensuring he could see every step I took.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice steady despite the weight behind it. "For saving my life."

Priape turned his head toward without snarling or aggression, offering only attention.

"And congratulations on your evolution," I continued.

He stared at for a long mont before speaking his own na in a low, asured tone.

It was not pride or anger.

It was acknowledgent.

I rested my hand against his arm, feeling solid muscle beneath warm fur, and told him simply that he had done well.

He closed his eyes briefly before sitting down heavily in the grass, as though the last remnants of battle had finally drained from him.

That was enough for now.

After recalling him gently, I promised silently that we would talk properly and train properly once the world was no longer actively burning.

Happiny spotted the mont I stepped back onto the lawn, and she rushed toward at full speed with her stone clutched tightly in her arms, nearly tripping in her excitent.

I crouched just in ti for her to collide into , and I laughed quietly as she pressed her forehead against my chest, warm and very much alive.

That warmth grounded more effectively than any briefing ever could.

When I asked if she was ready to beco my Pokémon officially, her answer was imdiate and bright, and she tapped the Pokéball with her forehead without hesitation.

The ball clicked twice and went still.

When I picked it up, the faint warmth inside steadied sothing in that had been rattled since the assassination attempt.

It was not relief or happiness.

It was resolve anchored by sothing gentle and worth protecting.

After settling everything at ho, I left for the military base without lingering, because comfort had beco dangerous in its own way.

Colonel Rawat was waiting when I arrived, his expression carrying the fatigue of soone who recognized patterns repeating under new nas.

We discussed Earth Liberation's attempted recruitnt cells, the raids that had dismantled them, and the uncomfortable uncertainty of whether all roots had truly been removed.

When he revealed that Pokéball production units had been completed and mass production had already begun following certification, I understood imdiately how critical that developnt was.

This was leverage.

Not leverage born from threats, but leverage grounded in necessity.

If Earth Liberation gained legitimacy anywhere, trust would erode faster than infrastructure could be rebuilt, and coexistence would collapse the mont fear beca profitable.

My solution was simple.

We would call an international et, not for politicians who thrived on speeches and optics, but for the heads of every nation's Pokémon departnts—the individuals who dealt daily with injuries, panic, training failures, and loss.

This was no longer about borders or political advantage.

It was about whether humanity would survive its own fear.

As I left the briefing room, one realization remained clear.

Earth Liberation was not rely an enemy.

It was a warning.

And the world was about to decide, very quickly, which side it intended to stand on.