Chapter no.439 Aftermath part 3

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The silence that followed Lance's command was profound, a stark contrast to the cacophony that had just filled the air. His figure, tall and imposing, stood as a symbol of authority and strength, casting a long shadow across the stage and into the crowd. For a brief moment, there was a collective breath held, a pause in the tumult as all eyes turned to the dragon master.

Lance, with his commanding presence, had expected his words to resonate with the authority he held in Kanto as its protector. But the reality of the situation was far from what he had anticipated.

As the seconds ticked by, the silence began to fray at the edges. A low murmur started in the crowd, like the distant rumble of thunder, growing louder and more agitated. The tension, rather than dissipating, seemed to thicken, charged with emotions that Lance's words had unwittingly ignited.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the uneasy quiet. "You can't silence us with just a command!" a protester shouted, the anger and distrust in his voice clear and resonant.

This was the spark that lit the fuse.

"You're supposed to be our hero, not our oppressor!" a young man shouted, his voice carrying a mix of betrayal and disbelief.

"Where were you when Team Rocket attacked our homes?" a woman cried out, her voice breaking with emotion, her words echoing the collective pain and fear.

"We trusted you, Lance! You were supposed to keep us safe!" another protester's voice rang out, heavy with accusation.

"Enough of your empty promises!" someone else added, their shout cutting through the air.

The crowd's anger was palpable, a physical force that seemed to press in from all sides. Lance, once revered as a protector, now stood as a symbol of the very fears and frustrations the crowd was voicing. Their trust, once unshakeable, was now fractured, the cracks evident in every shouted word and clenched fist.

"Why hide the truth from us? We deserve to know!" a voice demanded, its insistence representative of the hunger for transparency and honesty.

"You can't silence us with fear!" another protester yelled defiantly, capturing the sentiment of resistance that was growing among the crowd.

The cacophony of voices grew louder, a chorus of discontent and disillusionment.

Lance, standing on the stage, felt the weight of their distrust and anger bearing down on him. His intention to restore order had backfired, revealing a rift between the League and the people they were sworn to protect.

Amidst the rising tensions, Mr. Goodshow stepped forward. He placed a calming hand on Lance's arm, a gesture of solidarity and restraint. His voice, steady and reassuring, filled the speakers. "Lance, please," he said, his eyes locked onto the dragon master. "This is not the time for anger, but for understanding."

Lance, his jaw tight, nodded slowly and stepped back, a silent acquiescence to Goodshow's wisdom. His retreat was met with a mix of reactions from the crowd. Some looked relieved, while others remained skeptical.

Mr. Goodshow turned to face the crowd, his expression one of empathy. "I understand that there are many questions that need answering," he began, his voice resonant with sincerity. "And I will do my best to address them."

The reporters, sensing an opportunity, immediately sprang into action. Microphones were raised, cameras focused, and questions flew thick and fast.

"Mr. Goodshow, the Pokémon League's failure to prevent Team Rocket's invasion has caused public trust to plummet. As the head of this institution, what tangible steps will you take to restore faith in your leadership and the League itself?"

Goodshow took a moment, gathering his thoughts. "We acknowledge our failure in preventing this catastrophe," he began, his voice resonating with the burden of responsibility. "We are implementing a comprehensive review of our security systems, enhancing our intelligence network, and ensuring a more stringent vetting process for all associated individuals. This is just the start. We will regain your trust through actions, not just promises."

His words were met with a mixture of reactions. Some in the crowd nodded thoughtfully, while others whispered among themselves, their skepticism apparent.

"Giovanni remains at large. Team Rocket may be weakened, but they're not eradicated. How can the public trust that the League is capable of handling this ongoing threat?"

Goodshow's response was firm.

"We've neutralized many of Team Rocket's key operatives and are collaborating with the international police to bring them to justice." His assurance, however, did little to ease the palpable tension among the crowd, the scars of Team Rocket's invasion still raw.

A sharp question came from another reporter, probing the consequences of the League's actions. "The Elite Four and Gym Leaders engaged with genetically modified Pokémon, causing collateral damage and civilian casualties. How do you justify these actions?"

Goodshow's expression turned somber. "The harm to innocent lives deeply grieves us. We had to make difficult decisions in an unprecedented situation." A collective gasp rose from the crowd, the reminder of the damage and loss striking a painful chord.

Finally, a question that many had anticipated emerged from the crowd. "What about Ashura, the enigmatic hero? Does the League have any information on their identity?"

Mr. Goodshow paused, his gaze sweeping over the audience. "We share your curiosity about Ashura, but their anonymity must be respected. Their selfless actions were pivotal in the battle, and for that, we are grateful."

This acknowledgment of Ashura's heroics brought nods of approval and murmurs of respect from the crowd, a shared sentiment of admiration for the mysterious figure who had become a symbol of hope and courage amidst the chaos.

"The corruption within the League allowed Team Rocket to infiltrate your ranks. Why did you fail to prevent this?"

Goodshow's response, filled with remorse, acknowledged their oversight. "We were caught off-guard. The level of deception was sophisticated." This admission sent a ripple of unease through the crowd, their faith in the League visibly shaken.

The unending barrage of inquiries continued, each sharp and critical, reflecting the brewing discontent among the people. They probed deep into the League's policies and alleged involvement in the crisis that scarred the region.

A seasoned reporter pressed on about rumors of Goodshow receiving donations from high-ranking Team Rocket members. "Those rumors are baseless," Goodshow asserted, but his words did little to quell the restless murmur spreading through the crowd.

Another question cut through the tension, questioning the trust in Goodshow's leadership given the League's history of corruption. Goodshow stood firm, promising transparency and reform, but his assurances seemed to hang in the air, unconvincing to the crowd whose faith in the League was visibly faltering.

With each answer, Goodshow attempted to navigate the minefield of public opinion and skepticism, but the crowd's reactions were telling. Their trust had been deeply eroded, and every answer seemed to be met with more doubt and scrutiny.

"Mr. Goodshow, the public has lost countless friends and family in this catastrophe. There are rumors circulating that you had prior knowledge of Team Rocket's invasion and chose to dismiss them. What do you have to say about these allegations?"

Goodshow's face paled, but he maintained his composure. "I assure you, if we had any inkling of the scale of this impending disaster, we would have done everything in our power to prevent it. The rumors are entirely false. Our lack of preparedness is something we deeply regret and are taking steps to correct."

Whispers ran through the crowd, echoing the doubt and anger that still hung heavily in the air.

"How can we be certain that the League is acting in the best interest of the public? After the scale of corruption that's been revealed, how can we trust that more isn't hidden?"

"Transparency will be our primary focus moving forward," Goodshow responded, his voice echoing around the silent square. "We understand the need for accountability, and we're willing to open our operations for public scrutiny. The League is for the people and their Pokémon, and we aim to regain your trust."

Despite his words, the protesters' expressions remained guarded, their trust in the League severely tarnished.

The barrage of critical questions persisted, each like a razor-sharp arrow aimed at the heart of the League's policies, their failure to stave off Team Rocket's infiltration, their handling of the crisis, and the dire aftermath that had left the regions scarred.

A stern-faced reporter named Arthur took the floor, his voice brimming with accusation. "Mr. Goodshow, years ago, you said that the League was invincible and that Team Rocket was a thing of the past. Look where we are now. How do you justify these comments today?"

Goodshow's face hardened, but he did not shy away from the question. "I admit, I was wrong. I underestimated the reach and cunning of Team Rocket. But I assure you, we will learn from this and make the necessary changes."

Despite his assurances, the crowd's skepticism was evident. People whispered, their expressions a blend of anger, fear, and distrust.

As the questions continued to rain down upon Mr. Goodshow, a voice pierced through the cacophony, its tone heavy with foreboding. "There's speculation that Team Cypher is making a comeback. Do you have any comments on that?"

At the mention of Team Cypher, a palpable chill swept through the crowd. A hush fell over the assemblage, thick and suffocating. The name 'Team Cypher' carried with it an ominous weight, a specter of fear that loomed large in the collective memory of the older generation. It evoked images of a war that had torn through the world of Pokémon, leaving deep, unhealed scars in its wake.

Faces in the crowd blanched, eyes widening in alarm. Whispers swirled like leaves in a storm, the name 'Team Cypher' repeated in hushed, fearful tones. Parents clutched their children closer, a protective instinct awakened by the mere utterance of the name. Veterans of past conflicts exchanged grim looks, their expressions clouded by memories best left buried.

The younger generation, sensing the shift in atmosphere, looked on with a mix of confusion and burgeoning fear. They might not have experienced the horrors firsthand, but the reaction of those around them was enough to instill a sense of dread. The legacy of Team Cypher, it seemed, transcended generations, its dark shadow looming over the present.

In the midst of this charged atmosphere, Goodshow's face reflected the gravity of the situation. The crowd waited with bated breath, their fear and anxiety hanging heavy in the air.

"We are aware of the rumors about Team Cypher," Goodshow responded, his voice steady. "Rest assured, we are taking all necessary precautions. We will not be caught off guard again."

"Mr. Goodshow, what is your personal opinion on Ashura?"

The crowd, and the Elite Four, turned their attention towards Mr. Goodshow, waiting for his response. The president took a moment, his expression contemplative. "My personal opinion," he began, "is that Ashura is the hero and protector of Kanto."

An audible gasp swept through the crowd. Lance, standing by his side, facepalmed at the remark. He recognized it for what it was - an attempt by Goodshow to save face in front of the public, to associate himself with the mysterious hero who had captured the hearts and minds of the people.

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Meanwhile Green watched the unfolding drama on a TV screen with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. She turned to Austin, chuckling. "Hey, Austin, even the president's singing your praises as the hero and savior."

Austin rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, absolutely. I'm the hero who puts ketchup on ice cream," he quipped, glancing at Pikachu who seemed oddly intrigued by the idea.

"Here you go, buddy," Austin said, handing over a bizarre concoction to Pikachu, "your gourmet meal." Pikachu, unfazed by the culinary oddity, happily gobbled it up.

Austin then turned to Bill, who was engrossed in files about the Masterball. "Bill, you're on the board of directors for Silph Co., right?"

Bill looked up, caught off guard. "Yes?"

"Good, call them," Austin said nonchalantly.

"What? Call them? Why?" Bill asked, confusion written all over his face.

"I want to buy Silph Co.," Austin declared, as if it was the most natural decision in the world.

Bill's eyebrows shot up. "You want to buy Silph Co.? And where, pray tell, did you get the money for that?"

Austin smirked. "Let's just say I hacked into Team Rocket's assets and might have rerouted a few 'donations' into offshore accounts."

Green's eyes sparkled with mischief. "How much is a 'few'?"

Yellow, equally curious, chimed in. "Yeah, Austin, how much?"

Austin took a deep breath, bracing himself for their reactions. "Don't be mad, but it's about 280..."

"Oh, million. That's not too bad," Bill interjected, trying to rationalize the amount.

"Billion," Austin corrected, his tone casual.

Green's jaw dropped, and she fainted dramatically.

"What?" Bill gasped in disbelief.

Austin nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "280 billion dollars in illicit funds."

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[ Author Note: Ok, so Austin is rich rich with alot of illegal money. What do you think Austin should do with this money ? Comment your ideas ]

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[ Omake Paragraph]

Travelers to Hoenn will often note the paucity of outdoor lights in the region. Streetlights are rare, as are outdoor lights on houses, and some trainers will even recommend making their pokemon use Flash in cities for self-defense: stargazers flock there because it is much easier to see the night skies.

When outdoor lighting was first installed in Hoenn, lights judged safe by neighboring regions, an epidemic of Dustox poisoning spread with every installment of light. Dustox are a vengeful pokemon who spread their venom with every flap of their wings; a slow-acting but painful poison which can be fatal in large quantities, but is usually only concentrated enough to even be noticed when a Dustox is trailing someone to avenge harm it suffered as a Cascoon.

Dustox, however, are also inexorably drawn to certain colors of light. Night after night the Dustox congregated around the streets of Hoenn's cities, and as lighting expanded a mysterious new pandemic decimated Hoenn's population. Modernity itself was blamed, and desperate mobs of luddites smashed lights, potions, and anything else thought to be disapproved of by the gods. By the time a young physician realized that the strange new disease was not caused by some strange new virus or bacteria, but by Dustox poisoning, and could be addressed with nothing more than bug repellent around lights, every light in Hoenn had already been smashed and a government fearing revolution if they did not act had sought to ban even the stars.

The laws which darkened Hoenn are gone now with the passage of time, and lights surrounded by bug spray were eventually erected on a few city streets many decades later. Yet though the laws passed in its aftermath are gone, this painful historical memory still darkens Hoenn to this day.