Matsuma remained dead serious. Seeing the raw disbelief in Kenji's eyes, he
didn't bother arguing. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice low and resonant.
"Do you have any idea how many humans are killed or maid by Pokémon every
single year?"
Kenji opened his mouth to answer, but Matsuma cut him off. "Thousands. Tens of
thousands. In so years, the count across the globe reaches hundreds of
thousands. And behind those numbers, Kenji, how many families are shattered? How
many lives are ruined by creatures we call 'partners'?"
Matsuma's pace was steady as he spoke, his tone shifting from cold logic to a
quiet, focused fury. "Since ancient tis, humanity lived in fear of the
elents and the monsters that commanded them. We hid in caves, we fled from
storms, and we prayed for rcy from gods who didn't know we existed. It wasn't
until the rise of the first trainers that we finally gained the capital to fight
back—the leverage to step onto the stage of history."
"The World League was founded on the promise of peace. But even now, with all
our technology and all our masters, people still die in the streets and the
woods. It is a lie, Kenji. Humans and Pokémon have never been 'partners.' We
are, and have always been, in a state of primal, biological war."
"The R-Organization was founded to end that war. If I had been given more
ti... if our cloning research had reached its zenith... the extinction of the
Pokémon species would have been a statistical certainty. And on that day,
humanity would have finally beco the true and sole masters of this planet."
As he spoke, Matsuma's voice trembled with a fleeting passion, his eyes burning
with the ghost of a dream. But the light quickly faded, replaced by a profound,
hollow weariness. He knew it was over. His bases were ashes, his "perfect
weapon" had gone rogue, and his organization was a mory.
Kenji stared at him, genuinely shaken. Matsuma wasn't just a criminal; he was an
extremist—a human supremacist who viewed the entire natural world as an enemy.
To call this a "dream" was a stretch; it was a genocidal delusion.
"You talk about human casualties," Kenji countered, his voice hard. "But don't
forget how many trainers and innocent people have been tortured, experinted
on, or killed by Team Rocket in pursuit of that 'dream.'"
Matsuma let out a cold, sharp laugh. "I've read your file, Kenji. You were an
orphan from the bottom of the Huaxia social ladder. No one knows better than you
what it costs for a commoner to beco a trainer."
"In Huaxia, the League monitors every egg and every potion. For a person without
a family na or a massive bank account, the path to the top is a wall of glass.
Team Rocket didn't just 'sell' Pokémon and cheap supplents; we provided an
alternative to a rigged system. We gave the drears a chance the League refused
to grant them."
"Before you judge my thods, ask yourself: Who is truly the villain? The man
who sells a cheap, unverified potion to a desperate kid, or the system that
monopolizes the resources so that kid has to turn to the black market in the
first place?"
Matsuma's rhetoric was silver-tongued and dangerous. He leaned in, his eyes
locking onto Kenji's. "I will admit, the Huaxia League is 'kind' compared to the
rest. At least here, the common people can live in peace, even if they can't all
be kings. In other parts of the world, survival itself is a luxury the poor
cannot afford. Our organization grew as large as it did because the world's
'righteous' alliances provided us with perfect soil to plant our seeds."
Kenji remained silent. He hated Matsuma's thods, but he couldn't deny the
logic in his critique of the world's power structures. He had seen the
corruption in the Gilded Academy and the arrogance of the wealthy clans.
Any system has its shadows. And it was in those shadows that monsters like
Matsuma were born.
"If..." Matsuma started, then stopped, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle.
"Never mind. It's too late for 'ifs.' My dream is a ruin, and I am tired of the
shadows. I am giving you this stone because you possess a potential I haven't
seen in a century. You are the only person alive who might actually be strong
enough to change the direction of the world."
"As for , consider this my final contribution. My life's work, handed to the
man most likely to use it."
Matsuma held the stone out one last ti.
ZZZZZT...
Behind Kenji, the silent Beedrill suddenly let out a low, sharp buzz. Kenji
turned, surprised by the interruption.
"You... you want to take it?" Kenji asked his partner.
Beedrill nodded once, its crimson eyes fixed on the cursed stone. It was an apex
predator; it didn't care about Matsuma's philosophy or the blood on the
artifact. It only cared about the power. It felt the "Destruction" within the
stone and knew that with its new dinsional mastery, it could ta that
darkness.
After a long, heavy silence, Kenji reached out. His fingers brushed against
Matsuma's palm as he took the Modified Key Stone.
Matsuma's lips curled into a genuine, satisfied smile.
On the other side of the field, Matsuma's own Beedrill unclipped the Beedrillite
from its pendant and tossed it across the arena. Kenji's partner caught the dark
gemstone in its lance with surgical precision.
The transaction was complete. The past had handed its most dangerous weapon to
the future.
♧♧♧
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