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There are many driving forces that push people forward, and Cyrus's driving force is exceptionally pure— it's hatred.
The power of hatred is astonishing; it can keep an aging old man disciplined and restrained, maintaining high-intensity training without fail day after day and for decades toward this goal without wavering.
Cyrus's hatred is like the seed of a poisonous plant; once it falls into the soil, it doesn't wither with time but grows stronger, nourished by experience and the passage of years.
The first time Lucian met Cyrus was during a mission in the Orange Islands to take down a Pokémon poacher gang, on a stormy night of torrential rain.
Cyrus and Lucian split up; as a member of the Elite Four, Lucian handled rescuing the captured Pokémon, while Cyrus pursued the fleeing poacher gang.
Later, Cyrus chased too deep and was suddenly ambushed by the poacher gang; by the time Lucian arrived to reinforce him, Cyrus was sitting on a moss-covered rock, sheltered from the wind and rain, his face covered in blood, his trembling hands clutching a cigarette, puffing on it one drag at a time.
Lucian stood in the rain, watching that aged face faintly illuminated by the flickering cigarette in the endless darkness.
In that moment, he felt there was a monster lurking in the black voids of Cyrus's eyes— a true monster in every sense; if Lucian had arrived even a step later, that monster might have broken free from Cyrus's inner cage and devoured the poacher gang sprawled on the ground.
The rain was heavy, the wind fierce; Lucian and Cyrus, having tied up the poacher gang, stood together in the storm, waiting for dawn.
After the mission, Lucian asked an acquaintance in the International Police and finally learned Cyrus's story— a tale so heartrending and unbearable that it was hard to bring up.
Luther and Lucian discussed this incident in a private chat; Luther's assessment was strikingly similar to Lucian's: Cyrus was a very pure person.
Unfortunately, the purity Luther saw and the purity Lucian saw were not the same.
Cyrus didn't get along well with others; an aging old man increasingly out of touch with the times, refusing to accept his age, always causing minor to moderate trouble when completing missions— the International Police had long wanted him to retire.
It wasn't because of Cyrus's age but because there was a fire in his heart that burned not only toward criminals but often toward his own colleagues as well.
Lucian sighed and said faintly, "You were way too extreme."
He didn't want to argue with Cyrus on this topic; a belief sustained solely by hatred was dangerous— without other positive forces to balance it, that hatred could easily turn on itself.
But Lucian couldn't say it aloud; this was an old man already heading toward the grave, his mindset solidified over decades, unshaken by wind or rain; like a train speeding toward its final stop, nothing could halt him anymore.
"I heard from Luther that you're helping him raise a Houndoom? You didn't involve Houndoom in this incident, did you?"
"No, I am just taking care of him; for something like this, I'd only use my own Pokémon," Cyrus replied. "You seem to care a lot about Luther?"
"Sort of," Lucian said casually.
"Why?"
Lucian paused, recalling his meeting with Luther at the Pokémon Center, and said thoughtfully, "I want to mess with Cynthia."
"Cynthia? Champion Cynthia?" Cyrus was a bit shocked, "From what I've seen, he's just a Trainer who's only recently started; you're that optimistic about him?"
"I checked his profile; I think he has the Talent to go toe-to-toe with Cynthia— a seedling that could annoy Cynthia— so I plan to keep an eye on him; let's see if he can make Cynthia stumble."
Poor Luther probably never imagined that not only was Cynthia quietly watching him, but Elite Four Lucian was also keeping tabs on him from the shadows— truly an overwhelming honor.
Cyrus thought for a moment and said, "Don't you think you can beat Cynthia yourself?"
Lucian let out a chuckle.
"I just faced Cynthia in the Champion match today; do you know the result? She used the Strategy I mocked her for years ago to crush me thoroughly, then switched to her forte of direct confrontation to beat me again; switching Battle styles was a split-second decision for her, perfectly in sync with her Pokémon."
"It's not that I don't think I can beat Cynthia; you have to try and work hard to know the outcome, but the odds tell me the chance of defeating Cynthia is slim."
"You sound… like a Cynthia stan," Cyrus said, surprising for someone so out of touch with modern slang to know a trendy term like "Cynthia stan."
Lucian didn't mind, "Cyrus, anyone who faces Cynthia head-on will be awed by her commanding presence in battle; I'm not a Cynthia stan— I just saw a shadow in that fight that's incredibly hard to overcome; Pokémon Trainers born in this era are unlucky— they'll likely live under Cynthia's shadow forever."
Lucian stood up, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and gently placed it on the table in front of Cyrus.
"Are you leaving?" Cyrus asked.
Lucian nodded; he'd asked what he needed to, conveyed what he had to, and chatted with the lonely Cyrus for a while; the rest was up to the International Police's internal affairs.
Cyrus called out to Lucian as he pushed the door to leave, his tone serious, "Be careful; the organization behind this isn't simple."
"I'm one of Sinnoh's Elite Four," Lucian said, giving a light wave as a farewell.
At the Pokémon Center's front desk, a girl in a black suit approached, handing Lucian a file folder.
Lucian pulled out the documents and frowned after reading just two lines.
"Besides the deceased, the remaining injured were all regular workers on the factory's surface?"
"Yes, we've questioned the injured separately; they were all recruited to produce Pokémon plush toys and had no idea there was an underground factory beneath them."
Lucian now understood: the surface factory used unrelated workers as a front, while the underground conducted Pokémon research and experiments. Cyrus, blinded by hatred, stormed the underground, attacked recklessly, and inadvertently let the underground staff escape amid the explosion and chaos.
"What's the progress on excavating the factory ruins?"
"Officer Jenny and other officers are working through the night to dig through the rubble; based on my estimate…"
Lucian glanced at the girl beside him. "Speak plainly."
The assisting girl lowered her voice and said, "There might still be casualties under the ruins."
Lucian closed his eyes and sighed helplessly, "Forget you said that; we Sinnoh Pokémon League aren't taking the fall for the International Police anymore; let the International Police handle it themselves; get the other Pokémon League members in Veilstone City fully mobilized— based on the ruin excavation, investigate for me; I want to know who's hiding in the shadows doing these outrageous things!"
The girl hesitated, not leaving.
"Anything else?"
"Mr. Lucian, should we send a copy of our report to Miss Cynthia? Per the Pokémon League meeting, she's assisting you."
Lucian rubbed his brow, hearing this, and smirked, "No need to send it; if she asks you for it, then give it to her."
"Is that… appropriate?"
"She's only assisting me as an excuse to dodge the Pokémon League's other messy arrangements and contacts, She is coming to Veilstone City to have fun."
Cynthia sneezed; Diantha set her shoulder bag on the sofa in Cynthia's house and looked over with concern.
Cynthia rubbed her nose and waved it off. "Just a sudden itch; it's fine."
Cynthia's living room was spotless, but her bedroom was another story.
Diantha pushed open Cynthia's bedroom door and was first greeted by various undergarments scattered on the floor, followed by Cynthia's usual clothes, books tossed aside unorganized, manga, and a half-played game cartridge left out…
On the nightstand were opened snacks; several Pokémon plushies lay haphazardly across the bed; the gaming console and computer screens were still on, clearly left running when Cynthia stepped out…
The only thing giving Diantha Gratification was that the trash was properly in the bin, not piled in a corner like last time.
Cynthia's lifestyle was lax; the living room was clean because she rarely used it; ever since Diantha introduced her to games, books, and manga, Cynthia's laziness had reached its peak.
It's hard to imagine how Cynthia's fans would react to seeing her room… at least when Diantha first saw it, she felt a sense of disillusionment.
Maintaining a polished image in public and letting loose in private wasn't wrong, but Diantha felt she had far more pressure than Cynthia and hadn't sunk to this level… it could only be chalked up to Cynthia's strong personality—or rather, her lifestyle revolving around laziness.
Cynthia took off her coat, carefully navigating the obstacles on the floor, sat cross-legged in front of the gaming console, and shoved a controller into Diantha's hands.
"There's a trophy I can't get; help me out."
Diantha and Cynthia were close friends— that wasn't big news.
Every time Diantha visited the Sinnoh Region, she'd hang out with Cynthia, eating and staying at her place, a fact well-known to the media.
But what Diantha and Cynthia talked about in private sparked endless speculation.
Some thought the two Champions would inevitably spar a little behind closed doors.
Others believed Diantha and Cynthia would discuss Raise Pokémon and share training insights.
Some even thought they'd tackle major matters between the Sinnoh and Kalos Pokémon Leagues.
Of course, no one would guess that Diantha's days at Cynthia's place were mostly spent playing video games with her…
(End of Chapter)