The White House, Celestria.
"Bastards! Those damn Drakorian bastards—how dare they threaten me!"
The current president was slamming his fist on the desk, his eyes burning with murderous rage.
Even his secretary, standing nearby, felt a chill and couldn’t help but wonder what the Drakorian Elders Council had said to the president to infuriate him so much.
'Could it be… the president’s son isn’t actually his?'
The secretary’s thoughts began to wander.
It took several minutes for the president to finally calm down. He sank into his chair, two names echoing in his mind:
Mewtwo! Julian!
During the incident in Haitian City, the appearance of Kyogre had drawn the entire world’s attention. Countless satellites had captured images of the legendary Pokémon.
At that time, nations led by Celestria had practically been giddy with excitement, assuming Kyogre would surely take out at least one or two of Drakoria’s Champions.
But then… a new First-class Legendary showed up—Mewtwo.
It stopped Kyogre’s assault, preventing Haitian City from being erased from the map.
And from the satellites, global leaders were shocked to see that beside that unknown First-class Legendary stood… a human.
What’s more, that legendary seemed to be protecting this human.
Later, various countries learned from Drakoria that the new First-class Legendary was named Mewtwo, and the human beside it was Julian.
As for the relationship between Julian and Mewtwo, Drakoria’s higher-ups were deliberately vague.
In truth, even Drakoria’s leadership didn’t fully understand the connection between Julian and Mewtwo. So they had sent John to ask, and his reply had been simply: "There is a connection."
This frustratingly ambiguous response nearly made the Elders Council lose their minds, but it did provide some confirmation.
Thus Drakoria decided to leverage this ambiguity: 'Julian is connected to a First-class Legendary. That means our country is connected to a First-class Legendary. Don’t mess with us.'
And so, Drakoria was planning to send Julian to handle the situation in Pannar.
"Tell General Mathew, that Pannar no longer requires his attention," the president finally said after a long silence.
"Yes, sir."
The secretary nodded and immediately went to contact General Mathew.
When Celestria learned about the riot in Pannar’s Top-tier secret realm and Pannar’s inability to handle it, they knew Pannar would inevitably seek help from Drakoria.
So, they had secretly made preparations, waiting to see who Drakoria would send to resolve the crisis.
If it was a Champion—with proper planning—they might have been able to eliminate them in Pannar.
But now, instead of a Champion, it was Julian—someone considered equivalent to a Champion, and in fact the single person Celestria most desired to eliminate.
After all, in that previous Top-tier secret realm expedition, their nation’s five most promising prodigies had all died. Although there was no concrete evidence, it was undoubtedly the work of someone from Drakoria, and Julian was the prime suspect.
Coupled with Julian’s extraordinary talent and recent rumors from Drakoria about him possessing a Celebi—complete with photographic evidence—his threat level was only rising higher and higher.
And if he remained within Drakoria's borders, Celestria had no way of eliminating him.
Now that he was heading to Pannar—it was the perfect opportunity.
But then the Drakorian Elders Council called, openly threatening him.
President: 'Better play it safe and not push our luck.'
For now, Celestria was constrained—despite their formidable power, they could not act against Julian.
---
Imperial Capital Airport.
Julian had already boarded a private jet bound for Pannar’s capital, Itesburg. The flight was expected to take fifty hours.
Drakoria had sent him alone. They had considered assigning him a translator, but it turned out Julian was exceptionally fluent in Pannar's language.
If not for his distinctly Drakorian features, one might mistake him for a native Pannar speaker just by hearing him talk.
Even John had been shocked by this discovery. He had no idea when his grandson had picked up the language.
All he could say was, "My dear grandson can do anything."
The first-class cabin on planes allowed for the release of Pokémon, but only those under 1.5 meters in height and below level 10.
Julian directly released Celebi, a late-stage Elite. The Poké Ball had been shaking nonstop—he had no choice but to let it out.
As for the regulations? This was his family’s private jet—screw the rules.
Not just Celebi, but Metagross, Arcanine, Lucario, Garchomp, Shelgon, Slowking, Kartana, and other moderately sized Pokémon were all released.
Fortunately, the private jet was spacious enough—otherwise, it would have been overcrowded with just four of them.
Arcanine currently had his face pressed against the window, curiously watching the clouds below.
Outside the jet, Moltres and Dragonite were stretching their wings as they glided along.
Spotting the dog’s face against the glass, Moltres opened its beak and said: "Dumb dog."
Of course, with the glass between them, Arcanine couldn’t hear a word. But it knew. It knew the bird was definitely calling it a dumb dog.
Arcanine: "Master, I won’t eat for a whole day today—just don’t give that stupid bird anything either!"
If there was ever a definition of "hurting yourself to hurt the enemy," Arcanine embodied it perfectly.
Julian patted the dog’s head: "Be good. If you don’t eat, I’ll be heartbroken."
Hearing this, Arcanine’s tail immediately started wagging like a tiny electric fan.
Dogs… always needed a little coaxing.
The private jet naturally had an entire team dedicated to serving Julian and his Pokémon.
At this moment, several masseuses were massaging Garchomp and Lucario, relaxing their muscles.
Meanwhile, Shelgon was happily staring out the window, lost in its fantasies of flying one day.
"Young Master, this is today’s lunch menu. Please have a look," a beautiful flight attendant approached Julian and handed him the menu.
The cooking was handled by a chef of national banquet caliber.
"Slow~"
Before Julian could even glance at the menu, Slowking snatched it away.
After scanning the menu, Slowking nodded approvingly, then pulled out a chef’s hat and apron from its own backpack.
The flight attendant was bewildered. 'Wait… don’t tell me this Pokémon plans to cook?'
"Leave lunch to Slowking. Just have that chef assist Slowking with prep work," Julian said casually.
'Good grief—having a national banquet-level chef play assistant to a Pokémon?'
Wouldn’t the poor man be so insulted he’d want to chop the Pokémon in half with his kitchen knife?
About ten minutes later, Julian faintly heard the voices drifting out of the kitchen:
"So that’s how it’s done! You can even do it like this? Master Slowking, you’re amazing!"
*****
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