A cool breeze blew.
Far away, the industrial district was still brightly lit.
Shan Ren sighed. "Great. How am I supposed to sleep now?"
Ghosts were different from Ghost-type Pokémon. Even in remote Orre, countless frightening tales about ghosts persisted.
Children feared being taken away by ghosts, while adults hoped ghosts would take revenge on those who oppressed them.
Shan Ren had once imagined the dead becoming vengeful spirits and punishing the scum of Shadow Team. But as he studied and traveled through other regions, he absorbed what the wider world had to teach him.
He came to understand one thing—
Heaven helps those who help themselves.
Rather than seek something elusive, he would do his part himself, then pursue his ambitions in the Orre he helped transform.
None of that meant Shan Ren was indifferent to the possibility that souls really existed.
He had a clear conscience, so he had nothing to fear. But the thought that invisible, intangible souls might be everywhere he lived—perhaps even gathering to stare at him while he slept—
How was he supposed to sleep through that?
Putting the public good first did not mean giving up his privacy.
Baimu shrugged. "Can't be helped. You buried the Underground City, didn't you? We'll have to dig it open tomorrow morning and take a look."
"What about tonight?"
"Find a Ghost-type Pokémon to look around for you. If it spots any, it can chase them off. That should get you through one night."
"Fine. Lend me your Dragapult."
"...I can't do that."
"Where am I supposed to find a Ghost-type Pokémon this late? You think this is Hoenn?" Shan Ren kept his voice low, but irritation edged every word.
If he had a choice, he would rather have learned about this tomorrow.
Baimu had insisted that