Chapter 144: Mewtwo: On the Third Day of Using the Internet, I Decided to Destroy Humanity

"What is a movie? What is a television series? What does a director do?"

Staring at Mewtwo's soul-searching trio of questions, Edward rubbed his face, feeling a headache coming on.

It had been a full day since he added Mewtwo as a friend.

Originally, Edward had intended to chat with Mewtwo a bit longer yesterday, but the Psychic-type suddenly stopped replying. It wasn't until today that Edward learned the reason: Mewtwo had used psychic manipulation to control someone just to use the Delibird App and add him as a contact.

It even went as far as registering its own account. But after that researcher left the room, Mewtwo naturally lost the ability to continue sending messages.

Its body was still quite weak and couldn't exert control over humans at long distances.

Even so, Edward had noticed something very peculiar about Mewtwo—its curiosity. The artificial Legendary Pokémon was like a toddler, full of wonder about everything in the world.

Edward couldn't help but wonder: could it be that the reason the Mewtwo from the games and movies turned out the way it did, bitter and vengeful, was largely influenced by the environment of the Team Rocket lab it had been born into?

And let's be honest, what kind of people worked in Team Rocket's old secret bases? Villains. Pure and simple. Their thoughts and values were fundamentally malicious. If Mewtwo had been absorbing and reading the memories of these people on a daily basis, it was only natural that it would grow cynical and resentful toward the world.

In other words, the current Mewtwo was like a clean slate—a blank canvas. It didn't know anything. It hadn't learned anything. Whatever kind of person Mewtwo would become in the future would be entirely determined by the "education" it received from here on out.

Realizing this, Edward couldn't help but grow serious.

But for now, he decided to respond to Mewtwo's earlier questions.

Meanwhile, on New Island, Mewtwo floated in a glass container filled with nutrient fluid. Outside the chamber, a researcher who was supposed to be working was hiding in the restroom and mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

"A movie? Moving art? What is 'art' exactly? It moves?" Mewtwo's mind was brimming with questions.

Its current psychic power still wasn't strong enough to fully absorb large swathes of memory, so most of its understanding of the world came from bits and pieces. And yet, for reasons Mewtwo itself didn't entirely understand, it felt an odd warmth and comfort when thinking about that person—the one it had contacted via the invitation.

It was that strange invitation that had first awakened its consciousness. Without it, who knew how long it would've continued to drift in an unconscious fog, unaware of its own existence.

Thinking of this, Mewtwo once again took control of the researcher and sent a new message:

[What is the meaning of life?: Who are you?]

Edward couldn't help but laugh helplessly when he saw the question. This Mewtwo was really persistent. It had asked the same thing yesterday, hadn't gotten a response, and was still fixated on it today.

[I'm Edward. I'm the director of "Dead Silence" and "One Missed Call."]

Edward sent the reply and took the opportunity to remind Mewtwo to delete their chat history. While Mewtwo's control over humans was impressively strong, Team Rocket was no small fry either. Who knew what surveillance methods they had in place? It was better to be safe than sorry.

That said, Edward himself wasn't particularly worried. Team Rocket would find it hard to mess with him. After all, the Stone family's influence gave him more than enough security. And besides, he was no pushover now either—he had strength.

He reached over and stroked Q's head while glancing at Fortune, who was reading a copy of Freakonomics with rapt attention.

These two little guys might seem like total slackers—Q always acting like some lazy NEET and Fortune obsessed with economic theory—but that didn't mean they were weak.

On the contrary, the two Pokémon were extremely powerful. Thanks to the daily supply of "Fear Candy" from Edward, both had been growing steadily stronger.

"If I've done the math right, Q should have enough Fear Candy to last a few more months. By then, its Awakening Value should hit the full 200. A Mimikyu with +200 to all stats? Heck, it could go toe-to-toe with a Legendary Pokémon. Even Dragon-types might get wrecked by a single Dazzling Gleam," Edward murmured to himself, scratching Q under the chin.

Q lifted its head in delight, purring and snuggling into his arms. Though it often clung to Edward's body, he barely felt its weight—after all, it was a Ghost-type Pokémon and naturally quite light.

Fortune, on the other hand, was heavier. It couldn't be compared to the really bulky Pokémon, of course, but its weight was still noticeable. Nevertheless, it was still small and cute.

Edward glanced at his phone again. No new messages from Mewtwo yet. He figured it might be looking up his information online.

But the thought of Mewtwo accessing the internet filled Edward with a sense of unease.

The internet, regardless of whether it existed in the real world or the world of Pokémon, was still fundamentally the same—a warehouse of human knowledge, full of boundless information, interesting facts, and even positive, inspiring content. But alongside all that came the darker elements.

In his previous life, some social platforms were often mockingly referred to as "cesspools," and for good reason. The sheer amount of vile, bizarre, and deeply disturbing content found in certain corners of the web was enough to make your skin crawl.

Sure, the Pokémon world had systems in place—like Porygon's internet moderation—to keep things relatively civil, but there were still shadows lurking online.

Edward couldn't help but worry. What exactly would Mewtwo learn if it began absorbing online discourse?

"Fortune, how many economics books have you read now?" Edward asked as he walked over and patted the Pokémon's head.

It was hard. Like slapping a metal pot. Cold, too. Might come in handy as a hand cooler in the summer.

"Ghol" Fortune chattered, shaking its head. Edward didn't understand a single word of it.

But Fortune seemed to realize this and started rustling around before finally tossing out a few coins. Edward counted them—seventy-something.

"You've read seventy-three books?" he asked. Fortune nodded solemnly.

Edward's expression became thoughtful. Seventy-three books? Maybe he should enroll Fortune in a Pokémon university. The little guy clearly had an interest in economics, and a university curriculum would help broaden its perspective even more.

Just as Edward was considering this, his phone buzzed. A message from Mewtwo.

[What is the meaning of life?: Are you really that super famous, super perverted director from the internet—Edward—the one who's constantly casting actresses through the casting couch, switching out ten girlfriends a day, knocking them up and not taking responsibility, who bullied his classmates in school, and confessed to the prettiest girl in class in front of everyone!?]

(End of Chapter)