The wind howled as his body drifted weightlessly upward. Mark felt an unseen force pulling him into the sky.

  At a certain height, the force suddenly vanished, and he plummeted downward!

  "Ah!"

  With a sharp gasp, Mark jolted upright, panting heavily.

  Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he shuddered—this dream had felt far too real. His back was drenched with sweat.

  Suddenly, an excruciating pain struck his chest, as if he had been smmed by a powerful blow. He instinctively curled inwards, gasping for breath.

  "Hngh…" His body tensed from the pain. Why did his chest hurt so much? What on earth had happened?

  He gnced around, intending to call for his Pokémon. If he was unwell, he'd need Gardevoir to use Heal Pulse on him.

  His vision was blurry at first but gradually cleared. Yet, what he saw around him left him frozen in pce, his expression filled with confusion.

  "Was I… kidnapped?"

  He pressed a hand against his aching chest and surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. That was the first thought that came to mind.

  As an Elite Investigator for the Pokémon League, he didn't panic. He forced himself to remain calm. The most important thing right now was to assess the situation.

  Knocking lightly on the worn wooden bed, he then turned his gaze toward the equally dipidated door. He decided to make some noise and see if his supposed captors would respond.

  If they hadn't killed him outright, they must have a reason for keeping him alive. He needed to figure out their motives before making his next move.

  It seemed that his actions had caught someone's attention. With a loud bang, the wooden door swung open, and a boy around ten years old rushed inside.

  The boy's face lit up with joy upon seeing Mark sit up. "Big Brother Samuel, you're awake!"

  Short brown hair, a linen tunic that looked more like a dress… Mark quietly studied the unfamiliar child, momentarily dazed.

  Samuel? Was he calling him?

  Before he could process it, a splitting pain shot through his head, and a flood of foreign memories surged into his mind.

  This boy's name was Andy. He was a neighbor, and their fathers had been childhood friends. Their families had always been close.

  The sudden influx of memories startled Mark—because these weren't his. They belonged to someone named Samuel. Yet, everything around him seemed to confirm the impossible truth: he was now Samuel.

  Had he… traveled through time?

  Just like those stories in Elite Four Shauntal's novels?

  Mark wasn't unfamiliar with the concept of time travel. Legends spoke of Pokémon capable of transcending time and space.

  Celebi, the Time Travel Pokémon. Dialga, the master of time. Palkia, the ruler of space.

  "Big Brother Samuel, are you alright? Do you still feel unwell?" Andy asked with concern.

  "I'm fine. Just some pain in my chest," Mark rasped after a moment of thought.

  Andy sighed in relief and sat on the bed. "Big Brother Samuel, why did you climb so high up on the rooftop in the middle of the night?"

  Climb… the rooftop? Mark instinctively touched his aching chest and understood the source of his pain.

  But why? What was he doing up there?

  Frowning, he searched his newfound memories. He recalled going outside the city to gather wild herbs in the Bck Forest during the day.

  But as for what happened st night… there was nothing. Not a single memory.

  "What's going on?" he murmured. He could recall everything about Samuel's life—except for the events of st night.

  If the rules of time-travel fiction held true, his soul had repced Samuel's because the original had died.

  In other words, the body's original owner, Samuel, had died under mysterious circumstances st night.

  Did he fall from the rooftop to his death? Mark considered the possibility. But his instincts as a League investigator told him it wasn't that simple.

  Memory loss wasn't unheard of among Pokémon, especially those with Psychic or Ghost abilities.

  "Big Brother Samuel, you should stay home for now," Andy muttered. "Mom says people have been disappearing in the slums."

  Mark, who had been deep in thought about Samuel's death, immediately snapped to attention. "People are going missing in the slums?"

  The details of the case surfaced in his mind.

  The disappearances had begun two weeks ago. At first, only vagrants had gone missing, so no one paid much attention.

  But as more and more residents vanished, fear spread through the slums. And yet, despite increased vigince, people still disappeared at night.

  Slums. Nighttime. Lone victims…

  Mark quickly identified the key patterns and felt an ominous unease.

  The circumstances matched Samuel's supposed "death" too perfectly. Was this really just a coincidence?

  Had Samuel been targeted?

  His gut told him something was very wrong. Why was Samuel found unconscious on the street?

  Thud, thud. Thud, thud.

  Steady, heavy footsteps echoed outside the window.

  Both boys tensed and peered outside.

  In the distance, a Rhyhorn cd in gray armor marched down the stone-paved road.

  "A monster Rhyhorn!"

  "The city's enforcers are here! We're safe now!" Andy excimed, pressing against the window to get a better look.

  Monster…? Mark's eyes narrowed as he studied the Rhyhorn.

  His gaze then shifted to the bck metallic device strapped to the Rhyhorn's back. His pupils contracted sharply.

  He had seen this device before—in the museum of Cameran Pace.

  A Monster Restraint!

  Mark murmured the term under his breath.

  A thousand years ago, Pokémon were called "monsters." There were no Poké Balls then, and humans used Monster Restraints to subdue and control them!

  Had he traveled back to the Pokémon world of a thousand years ago?

  A vague impression of this era formed in his mind.

  Touching his still-aching chest, he found the pain had lessened. He stepped to the window, watching the Rhyhorn pass by.

  The slums were lined with crumbling stone and wooden shacks. The streets were mostly empty.

  Those who were outside wore simple linen tunics and loose pants, their feet cd in thin, backless shoes.

  They avoided the Rhyhorn instinctively, their eyes filled with both reverence and fear.

  To the common folk, monsters were overwhelmingly powerful. Even a well-trained knight in full armor wouldn't stand a chance against a Rhyhorn in battle.

  Although monster tamers used Restraints to control them, incidents of rampaging monsters still occurred every year.

  I need a monster of my own…

  Mark's gaze lingered on the Rhyhorn and the armored enforcer beside it. Strength was everything here.

  Carefully observing, he confirmed that this "monster" Rhyhorn was identical to the modern Pokémon he knew. Which meant… he could train it.

  If he captured a monster and used modern training methods, he could gain a powerful partner in a short time.

  That way, even if he got caught up in the disappearances, he could fight back.

  But then, his heart sank.

  Only those granted titles by the ruling lords could legally own monsters and obtain Restraints.

  For ordinary people, monsters were forbidden. They were symbols of power, used to maintain control.

  Then I'll just have to become a monster tamer!

  Mark clenched his chest, determination burning in his eyes.

  First, he had to survive.

  Then… find a way back home!

  -----

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