Returning to the Plasma Regiment's secret headquarters from Lichong City requires a boat, and N is now on this private yacht bound for the base.

The overdecorated bright silver yacht sailed smoothly and quickly across the sea, and after seven hours of sailing, it had crossed the town of Luzi in the southeast corner of the United States, and was cleaving the waves and sailing straight for the northernmost part of the region.

In the spacious cabin for N, the green-haired youth sat on the carpet with his back to the wall, and Soroak slept defenselessly beside him, curled up like a large dark red plush pillow.

This sleeping position was a habit developed in both the time of Zoroac and Zoroa, and it used to be used to maintain its body temperature when it had to lie down in the sewers after being rounded up by poachers.

"Pokémon are a misfortune in the hands of humans, and they should be returned to nature" - whenever Zoroac showed this sleeping appearance beside him, the teachings of the sages naturally came to N's ears like the song of a blue toad.

And he himself also sincerely thinks so.

As the detective and Douzi expected, although N was glad for the "resurrected" electric Pokémon, he didn't have any superfluous feelings - the humans who helped each other with the elves were certainly touching, but wasn't it the indifference of the same humans that made the lightning balls fall into a desperate situation of death?

Some sins can only be atonemented and cannot be washed away.

N's mind turned to the destination of the trip—a fortress that could not be shaken, either by the extension of the distance traveled or the increase in the number of friends.

The castle of N, built for him, and named after him.

The thought of the majestic labyrinth of the Old Kingdom, built on top of the ruins of the Old Kingdom, made him feel a sense of depression — the cage that had besieged him for almost all of his life and would continue to be there for the foreseeable future.

The young man did not tell his friend Douzi the true location of the secret building, just as he did not tell the Gambler King the true intentions of the Plasma Regiment, N has a natural distrust of the group of humans, even if one of them is supported by his best friends, and the other party is supporting him as the leader and living up to his ideals.

N must keep his distance from both, even if sometimes as a spectator and sometimes as an idol made of clay.

This neutral stance is not due to cowardly hesitation or hypocrisy to cherish feathers, but because N has an extremely clear understanding of his identity as a human alien -

At present, there is only one outlier with the ability to perceive the voice of the elf, which means that no one other than him can know the mood and appeal of the Pokémon through direct dialogue.

Therefore, N cannot pretend to be independent thinking on any other side. He can only maintain a solitary and detached posture like a true prophet in religious legends, maintaining the happiness and dignity of the elves in the game of all parties.

After all, only ideals can never be pinned on others.

Doing bad things with good intentions is what humans do best—whether it's the elven alliance with a big tail or the extreme plasma cluster, both of which can confuse the relationship between means and ends in the pursuit of victory, and turn the original mood for Pokémon into a crazy means to achieve the goal.

"Unscrupulous ......"

N suddenly remembered the anger he felt when he was in the wilderness of Lichong City, and was about to lead the wild elves to attack the city-

Now that I think about it, could I really be too extreme at that time? Even if N can accurately plan the course of action of each Pokémon with his voice and command, as the good detective assistant said, a parade of this scale will definitely create a huge gap between the residents and the Pokémon...... But wouldn't it be better to sit on the sidelines and remain indifferent to reality?

Whenever he thinks about these questions, N feels like he is on the edge of an abyss, and even the most complex mathematical problems seem to be effortless simple calculations compared to this game against the world.

The incident in Lichong City was successfully resolved this time, and the Plasma Regiment took the initiative to announce that it was they who attacked and destroyed the power plant to punish William's mistreatment of Pokémon - intimidated by the violent intimidation of the Plasma Regiment, the Pokémon treatment in various industrial enterprises in Lichong City would inevitably be improved in the short term - and the price was only their own insignificant freedom......

But how many times can such a tightrope compromise be repeated?

"Justice cannot be demanded or bargained for bit by bit. Justice will fight for everything, even if it destroys the world! ”

Under the black-and-white cap with his long full name written on it, Quiggis's deafening admonition once again began to echo in N's mind. But now it seems that there is room for discussion in this statement?

……

Just as the concept of-for-tat was fighting in the mind of the green-haired young man until the sky was dark, N suddenly felt the world spinning in a physical sense.

N seemed to be pressed against the hard bulkhead by a great force, and then was thrown into the middle of the cabin by his own inertia, and landed on all fours, but fortunately the carpet was soft and there was no furniture in the room, so he was not harmed.

Zoroyak was also suddenly awakened, and the sensitive and suspicious Pokémon instantly bounced on all fours, subconsciously exerted the "hallucination" property, and disappeared into mid-air.

It wasn't until it saw N standing up again that it breathed a sigh of relief and reappeared in red and black.

What the hell is going on? It's just a simple physical problem.

The green-haired young man glanced at the porthole to make out the direction, and by this time he had already guessed the situation outside, so he turned to Zoroak and said—

"The yacht we were on was turning around and speeding up, something must have happened."

Without hesitation, N walked to the hatch and made steady progress on the ship, where the tremors were noticeable.

The door was not locked, and it seemed that it was not an invasion by a foreign enemy, otherwise whether it was the invaders or Simra, they would have blocked the door of this central cabin at the first time - N was a little relieved.

When he opened the door and stepped onto the deck, the first thing he felt was the bass roar of a diesel motor that shook his eardrums. Looking up, the yacht that had been heading north along the United Coast was now speeding towards the opposite south.

What exactly made Smola and the Dark Iron Triangle change the direction of sailing? And what happened so that they immediately ramped up their horsepower without even informing themselves in advance?

Suspicious, N went to the operation room of the yacht accompanied by Soroark, where three modern ninjas in black ninja suits were busy, and the three of them were playing acrobatics with their hands on the control console.

And behind the Iron Triangle, in the corner of the operation room, Smura, one of the Seven Sages, sat on the ground with a dejected face.

What the hell is going on?

N is even more puzzled.

In his opinion, even if the total number of the Order was lost by four-fifths overnight, this old man as unfathomable as the coffin of death would not be so devastated.

What is it that has brought this sage of "propaganda" to such an end?

Could it be that something happened to his father, Quitches?

N couldn't help but guess like this, and even he himself was taken aback.

"It's N."

The old man raised his eyelids and saw the king of the plasma mass entering the operation room, struggling to stand up and make a salute posture.

"I'm sorry for not informing you in advance before the acceleration, there was very serious news from the headquarters just now, and according to the current situation, we have to correct the course immediately."

"What happened?" N asked succinctly, staring at the old man in front of him.

"Your Majesty, things have taken a very big turn. Now there is a harsh reality, and I would like to bear this truth for you if I could, but now I have to tell you......"

Smura's face was unprecedentedly old, and it was half a day thick before he continued—

"Your Majesty, the plasma group, which has been loyal to you for the past twenty years, will soon be disbanded."