Chapter 267: Cynthia's Brain Short-Circuits — Her Own Friend, This Oblivious?
Not form any kind of relationship with Mammon?
Watching Caitlin's retreating back, Cynthia fell into thought. She thought she understood now — Caitlin had to be in love with Mammon. But why would she herself ever end up in any kind of relationship with him?
Cynthia mulled it over. She was the Champion of Sinnoh, and Mammon led Team Rocket — the two of them occupied entirely different worlds by status alone. And her own feelings toward Mammon — how to even describe them? Complicated, certainly, but Cynthia was confident it wasn't anything resembling romantic attraction. Given her naturally mature, composed temperament, Cynthia had honestly never given her own romantic life much thought at all — or rather, she wasn't even entirely sure what her own standards for a partner would even look like.
Cynthia shook her head and headed back toward the villa. Caitlin, honestly. Acting like she was worried about someone stealing her man — sure, there was already a wall standing between their old friendship now, but did Caitlin really think she'd go and steal him out from under her? Is that really how Caitlin saw her now? If Caitlin and Mammon actually worked out, honestly, Cynthia would be genuinely happy for her. Setting his affiliation aside, Mammon really was an exceptional man — probably the strongest in the world, without much room for doubt.
In the villa's main hall.
"That poaching syndicate base — Kagura, take Nora and the others over to clear it out. As long as nothing goes wrong, you don't need to step in yourself — just hang back and provide backup," Mammon said, fidgeting with the three miniaturized Poké Balls in his hand, addressing a video call.
That troublesome poaching base could go to Nora, Dulse, and the rest — they'd be thrilled for the opportunity, no doubt.
"Fine, send me the location," Kagura said, nodding, thoroughly unbothered — she didn't have much else going on lately anyway.
"Okay, Gladion will reach out to you." Mammon ended the call.
"You've found the poaching syndicate's base?" Cynthia had happened to catch the tail end of that.
"Yep," Mammon said, not looking up, studying the map of Sinnoh spread across the table. "Your region's poaching network is bigger than I expected, and there are a lot more high-tier poachers involved too — considerably worse than Hoenn or Unova."
"Guess our Champion here hasn't been doing that great a job, hm?" Mammon teased.
"I've done everything I can to root them out, but these poachers are genuinely cunning, and Team Galactic's been interfering as well," Cynthia said, settling onto the sofa to Mammon's left, smoothing her skirt with elegant composure, tone genuinely frustrated.
She'd absolutely wanted to wipe out these vile poaching operations herself. Poachers, after all, operated purely on contract — say a client wanted a rare Lucario, and some unlucky trainer happened to own one and caught a poacher's attention. The poacher would then stop at nothing to seize that trainer's Lucario and hand it over to the client. Poachers didn't care whether the Lucario was wild-caught, didn't care about its psychological state, and certainly didn't care what happened to it afterward — all that mattered was completing the job and collecting payment. Poaching syndicates were exactly the kind of malignant tumor Cynthia despised most. But they were slippery, kept multiple hideouts in reserve, and were genuinely difficult to root out entirely.
"Which is exactly why you need us. We know these dark-organization channels inside and out," Mammon said, his mouth curling upward. Right — precisely because the League wasn't familiar with the workings of the underworld, tracking down poaching bases proved consistently difficult for them. But Team Rocket was itself part of that underworld, and understood its rules and networks better than anyone.
Cynthia said nothing, though she couldn't deny the point held some truth.
"So really, letting Team Rocket handle the underworld is the best possible arrangement. We can keep the entire dark world stable and contained. Shame that old man Goodshow isn't willing to see it that way," Mammon clicked his tongue. Of course, he understood Goodshow's reasoning well enough — Team Rocket was simply too uncontrollable, and from Goodshow's perspective, an organization holding sway over the entire underworld, if it ever turned unstable, would be an absolute catastrophe.
"If you could offer some kind of guarantee, or give Chairman Goodshow enough leverage to feel secure about it, I think he'd consider it," Cynthia said, noncommittal. If she stood in Goodshow's position, she wouldn't agree to it either — Team Rocket really was too dangerous, too uncontrollable. Sure, Mammon wasn't a bloodthirsty tyrant, but he was absolutely the type to act with reckless, unchecked confidence. Someone like that, left unchecked as his power grew until he ruled the entire underworld — the law simply wouldn't factor into his calculations at all.
"Doesn't matter — let them keep deliberating for now. I'm actually curious what plan they eventually come up with," Mammon said, mouth curling into a grin.
Watching Mammon's confidence, Cynthia's brow rose slightly.
"Mammon, you're strong, no question — but what if the League decided to face you in a genuine, all-out confrontation?" Cynthia felt it wasn't out of the question. Sure, Mammon was formidably powerful right now, but the League had governed the entire world for over a century — its true depth, whatever secret resources it might hold in reserve, even Cynthia herself had no clear idea.
"Wouldn't that be perfect, though?" Mammon's smile only widened. "That'd finally give the League a proper reality check. Right now, they still think they're a match for Team Rocket, which just keeps them from ever finding their actual place in things."
Just as Cynthia had said — the reason talks with Goodshow had collapsed last time ultimately came down to Goodshow believing the League still held the upper hand overall; he was willing to bend somewhat, but not willing to simply watch Mammon disregard the League's laws entirely. As far as Goodshow saw it, the League's regulations were the very foundation of the world's peace and prosperity — and how terrifying would it be to let a person, or an organization, treat those laws as meaningless? At the end of the day, Goodshow wanted it both ways — he didn't want conflict with Team Rocket, but he also wanted to bring it to heel under the League's authority.
But that wasn't what Mammon wanted at all. He wanted Team Rocket to become the true, undisputed king of the underworld, standing as an equal power alongside the League itself — with himself, personally, sitting above the League entirely.
"...Mammon, you really are far too arrogant." Cynthia found herself at a loss, finally sighing.
"You're the one who's arrogant, Cynthia. You know nothing about my real strength, and nothing about Team Rocket's real strength," Mammon shot back, tone mocking. "Strength is exactly what earns the right to rule."
Mammon looked down at the three miniaturized Ultra Balls in his hand.
"You should all honestly be grateful, actually — grateful I'm not some ambitious would-be world-conqueror like Ghetsis, grateful I'm not some deranged 'superior man' like Cyrus, grateful I'm not some poor soul driven insane by disillusionment like Lysandre," Mammon said, mocking.
Cynthia stayed silent. She understood well enough by now — there was no talking Mammon out of this.
"Enough of that, though. Cynthia, I'd genuinely like to extend a real invitation for you to join our organization. Join us, and you can pick any one of these Pokémon for yourself — how about it?" Seeing Cynthia go quiet, Mammon changed the subject, gesturing to the Poké Balls in his hand.
"What are those?" Cynthia tilted her head, puzzled.
"The legendary giants — Regirock, Regice, Registeel."
Something shifted across Cynthia's refined features — of course she recognized them; Kamishiro himself had once used Regirock and Registeel in battle against Kagura, after all.
"And if none of those three appeal to you, there's Zapdos, or one of the legendary Forces of Nature too. Honestly, I think quite highly of you, Cynthia," Mammon said, smiling, his eyes sweeping over her. If Sinnoh's own Champion Cynthia became a Team Rocket executive — pff~ that would genuinely be entertaining.
Is it me you value — or is it my body? Cynthia caught his gaze again and shifted her hips slightly, edging back a little further on the sofa. Caitlin, I think your warning was aimed at the wrong person entirely — it's your own man here who's ogling my body, not the other way around!
"I'm quite happy where I am with the Sinnoh League. Not planning to switch allegiances anytime soon," Cynthia said, shaking her head.
"Well, that's a real shame," Mammon said, unsurprised. "So what's next on your agenda? Going after Cyrus?"
"Haven't located Cyrus yet — though I did stumble onto something rather interesting," Mammon said, glancing at the map of Sinnoh.
"Oh?"
"You'll find out tomorrow. Ah — finally, they're here."
Mammon glanced at his ringing phone, a small smile crossing his face.
"?" Cynthia looked puzzled.
Then she watched Mammon rise and walk to the door, opening it — and in walked a woman dressed in a fitted black crop top and shorts, striking and fashionable.
This woman — Elesa, the Gym Leader from Nimbasa City in Unova? Cynthia recognized her instantly; she'd been in Unova herself just a week ago. Elesa's appearance really was quite distinctive — in terms of sheer beauty, she was genuinely exceptional, especially those devastatingly long legs beneath her shorts, hardly a man alive could stay unaffected by them.
The instant Elesa walked in and spotted Mammon, a smile bloomed across her cool, striking features, and her long, pale arms wound naturally around his neck, the gesture unmistakably intimate.
"You made me wait quite a while."
"Finally managed to shake off Nora and the others. Did you miss me?"
Elesa hadn't had much choice in the matter — she could hardly have just walked off with Mammon directly earlier, or that girl Nora would've shamelessly tagged along too.
"Didn't we just video call two days ago?" Mammon laughed.
"Mm-hmm~" Elesa kept her gaze fixed on Mammon without blinking, but her eyes quickly caught sight of Cynthia seated on the sofa.
"Champion Cynthia's here too."
Elesa immediately reined in her impulse, releasing Mammon, looking a touch embarrassed.
"Staying as a guest here for the time being. Gym Leader Elesa — you and Mammon are...?" Cynthia felt genuinely lost. Whatever the relationship between Mammon and Elesa was, it clearly ran a bit deeper than casual — hard not to draw certain conclusions from it. But wasn't Caitlin supposed to be in love with Mammon?
"Just friends," Elesa said, her fair face not flushing in the slightest.
Huh?? You think I'm blind? Cynthia's brain struggled to process this. You two were practically about to kiss right there — if this villa weren't already occupied, I have a feeling things would've escalated right in the entryway. And his hand was on your backside! That's what you call "just friends"?!
"Cynthia, make yourself comfortable — Elesa and I have some important business to discuss." Mammon pulled Elesa along toward the second floor. Well, he had genuinely missed her a little, honestly.
Watching Mammon and Elesa's figures disappear around the stairwell corner, Cynthia fell into deep, bewildered thought. What exactly are the two of them going to do up there?
But the next moment, Cynthia's gaze landed on Caitlin, emerging seemingly out of nowhere.
Caitlin's expression stayed perfectly blank — though anyone could tell at a glance her mood had soured considerably.
"Caitlin, what's going on with Mammon and Elesa?"
Cynthia couldn't help asking her, despite the slightly awkward footing their friendship currently stood on. Still, Cynthia genuinely cared about Caitlin.
"Just some shameless little vixen. Nothing worth mentioning," Caitlin replied, flat and even.
Are you sure about that??
Cynthia's expression turned faintly strange. Is that really fine? They're probably already... "playing cards" up there by now, aren't they?
Cynthia suddenly found herself with the distinct impression that her old friend's head had gone thoroughly, obliviously green.
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