It showed a ransacked laboratory room, cages overturned and empty. In another picture beneath it, an entire row of Poké Balls lay scattered and smashed on a concrete floor.
Makima tapped the thick folder resting heavily on the table between them, her expression darkening further. Her amber eyes narrowed slightly, a storm simmering beneath her composed exterior.
"Twenty-three days ago," she began, her voice carrying a sharp, controlled tension, "the entire Kanto Pokémon Research Lab was emptied overnight." She paused deliberately, allowing Hiroshi a moment to absorb the gravity of her words. "Every single Pokémon—every egg, specimen, file, piece of research—all of it, gone. Vanished without a trace."
Hiroshi's eyes widened in shock, a cold chill slithering down his spine. The Kanto Pokémon Research Lab wasn't just any facility—it was Japan's crown jewel, their central repository of Pokémon-related research and the nation's most secure biological compound. Every Pokémon in the facility was precious beyond measure, among the last significant collections remaining in the entire country. The loss was almost unthinkable.
"Emptied?" Hiroshi repeated incredulously, struggling to process what he was hearing. His voice was tight, almost hoarse. "How is that possible? That place was guarded like a fortress. By whom—how—?"
Makima's jaw tightened visibly, her fingers clenching around the folder's edge. A spark of anger flashed briefly through her normally controlled gaze, and when she spoke again, her voice carried a brittle edge.
"It was an inside job," she spat out bitterly, as if each word left a sour taste. "Our own people—former directors, senior agents, even some top-level researchers within the PSIA. People who swore to protect Japan. They betrayed us all."
Beside her, Yoshimura let out a deep, weary sigh, his shoulders slumping visibly as if the weight of that betrayal pressed physically upon him. His usually calm expression twisted with deep sorrow, as if each word reopened old wounds.
Hiroshi felt as though he'd been struck physically, an ache settling deep into his chest. The idea of betrayal from within the very agency he'd once served with his life felt almost too bitter to swallow. These weren't faceless criminals; they were colleagues he'd trusted, people he'd shared meals with, fought alongside, even trained himself. The enormity of their treason struck him like a physical blow.
"But… why?" he asked, barely keeping his voice steady. The possibilities were grim—greed, power, political leverage—but he needed to hear it. "Why would they do this? Pokémon are rare enough already; stealing every single one of Japan's last batch seems… impossible without an immense motive."
Makima glanced at Yoshimura, who gave her a grim nod, prompting her to continue. She turned back to Hiroshi, her eyes flaring with cold fury as she spoke.
"They disguised it as a classified 'retrieval mission,' a black ops operation under the pretense of national security. Officially, it never even existed—every file meticulously redacted, authorization signatures forged. Even the Prime Minister was completely unaware. It was meticulously planned, executed swiftly and silently by people who knew exactly how to bypass every safeguard."
She hesitated, visibly shaken, before adding darkly, "And it's worse than simple theft. They didn't just take Pokémon; they abducted the agents loyal to them, emptied our research databases, wiped surveillance records clean. Every piece of evidence, every digital footprint, completely scrubbed. They knew exactly how we would respond and deliberately made themselves untraceable. Our own director-general—my predecessor—led this betrayal. He disappeared along with the entire operation team, their agents, the Pokémon. Not a single trace left behind."
Hiroshi stared in stunned silence, his fists tightening on his knees until his knuckles went white. A former director-general, someone entrusted at the highest level, orchestrating this betrayal… It wasn't just criminal; it was catastrophic.
"Foreign assistance?" Hiroshi asked grimly, his analytical instincts kicking in even through his shock. "Such a massive operation couldn't have been executed without outside support—private military, corporate espionage?"
Makima nodded gravely. "Undoubtedly. Our early intel suggests private military contractors were involved, likely funded through covert international channels. We've intercepted some encrypted chatter indicating potential foreign entities, but nothing solid yet. Whoever assisted had vast resources, logistical expertise, and possibly advanced technological capabilities. Yet they've all vanished without a trace—no electronic communications, no financial trails. Even our international partners have found nothing tangible. It's as if an entire operation just… evaporated overnight."
Yoshimura spoke for the first time since Makima had begun explaining, his voice heavy with fatigue and sorrow. "This betrayal wasn't just about money or simple greed, Hiroshi. They're likely planning something far bigger. The stolen Pokémon alone are invaluable, but combine that with the research they took—genetic data, breeding methods, behavioral analysis—it all points to a larger, coordinated strategy. Possibly weapons development, maybe black market genetic engineering programs, or worse."
Makima closed the folder sharply, her composure cracking slightly, revealing the depth of her disgust. "The truth is, we don't yet know their full intentions. But one thing is clear: they have effectively crippled Japan's capability to participate in global Pokémon research and development."
Yoshimura interlaced his fingers and spoke softly, "After that, the international community is… well, mocking us would be putting it lightly. For years, our intelligence services have been looked down on – seen as bumbling and behind the times. We were finally starting to regain some respect, thanks to Makima's reforms and the successes you and your trainees had…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
Makima picked up, her tone measured but carrying a hard edge. "Now, Japan's intelligence community is in disarray. Again. An international joke, just when we'd begun to turn things around. Other countries are wondering if we can't even safeguard our own assets, what good are we? Some of our allies have quietly started to exclude us from intel sharing on global Pokémon trafficking because they think we're compromised." She pressed her fingertips together, a gesture Hiroshi recognized as her way of containing frustration. "And they're not entirely wrong. We were compromised – from within."
Makima leaned forward, her amber-brown eyes locking firmly onto Hiroshi's hesitant gaze. Her voice, normally cool and controlled, carried a rare, emotional urgency.
"That's exactly why I'm here, Hiroshi. Japan needs you—PSIA needs you. I want you back in Tokyo, to help us rebuild what's been broken." She took a measured breath, weighing her next words carefully. "I'm asking you—no, begging you—to return as Assistant Director of the Kanto branch. Honestly, I pushed for you to be the Branch Director itself, but you're barely twenty, Hiroshi. Officially, it's Assistant Director, but realistically, you'll be running things. There's no one else to take that mantle."
Hiroshi stared at her, stunned into momentary silence. Then a bitter, incredulous laugh broke from his throat, startling both Makima and Yoshimura. He shook his head slowly, eyes narrowed in skeptical amusement.
"Assistant Director?" he echoed, disbelief clear in his voice. "Seriously, Makima? Don't throw decades' worth of promotions at me out of nowhere—like you suddenly got. What the hell's going on back in Tokyo?"
His laughter faded abruptly, replaced by an uneasy silence, heavy and stifling. Makima held his gaze steadily, but Hiroshi felt her sympathy, her understanding—he resented that empathy now, knowing what it dredged from his past.