Mewtwo's Little Help

Mewtwo's psychic space remained an endless expanse of pure white, cut off from every sound and disturbance outside, leaving only absolute silence.

Volcanion irritably surveyed the void, its gaze eventually settling on Mewtwo, filled with undisguised arrogance and scrutiny.

It could not sense the exact extent of Mewtwo's power, but anyone capable of forcibly dragging it into such an independent space was certainly no ordinary being.

Seeing Yan Yang's unsurprised expression, as though he had run into an old friend, Volcanion knew that this was another "acquaintance" within the brat's understanding.

Though it was deeply unwilling, constrained by that damned restraint ring, it had no choice but to remain here.

"Hmph! In a flimsy place like this, if I were at full strength, I'd shatter it in minutes!"

Volcanion refused to be outdone, throwing out threats in an attempt to save some face.

Yan Yang had just been about to greet Mewtwo when the words of the "King of Tough Talk" beside him choked him up.

He silently mocked it in his heart: You can't do anything right, but when it comes to boasting, you're number one.

Everything about it was hard, except its mouth... No, this guy was ridiculously hard all over, mouth included!

Mewtwo showed no reaction to Volcanion's provocation.

A Mythical Pokémon? Other than Mew, he had no particular interest in other Pokémon. This Pokémon did not seem like the sort that could calmly answer the question, "What is the meaning of existence?" There was no need to know more about it.

He wondered how Mew was doing now. It was probably still traveling everywhere with those two companions...

Actually, there were already three of them now, and all of them had some connection to Yan Yang.

Yan Yang had not expected Mewtwo to be the first