Chapter 225: Xiaochun's Dilemma
Xiu subtly steered the conversation away from Professor Oak's line of questioning, focusing instead on the lie he had prepared. "She made a mistake during the museum heist," Xiu continued, weaving his carefully constructed tale.
"The 'Heart of the Galaxy' was intercepted by another party, someone who had clearly been observing her. Her organization, believing she'd embezzled the item, sent enforcers after her. That's how she ended up in her current state."
"And how would you know the item was intercepted?" Oak asked, his gaze sharp, clearly sensing inconsistencies in the story.
Xiu managed a wry, self-deprecating smile. Can't exactly tell him I was the one who intercepted it, can I? "A stroke of bad luck, Professor, or perhaps good luck, depending on your perspective. I'd given up my room at the Pokémon Center that night to some stranded tourists.
Couldn't find another place, so I ended up sleeping rough near the museum district where I happened to witness the incident. The interceptor was nondescript – plain clothes, face mask. Vanished into the shadows. No clues."
"And you didn't intervene?" Oak pressed, clearly picking at the edges of the story.
"Intervene in what, exactly?" Xiu countered with feigned innocence, then continued before Oak could reply. "Professor, imagine you're trying to catch some sleep on a park bench, and something breaks out nearby. Would you jump in blindly? I had no idea what was happening.
One moment there was a scuffle, the next Xiaochun was down, about to be dragged away. It wasn't until the security patrols arrived later, reporting the museum theft, that I even began to piece things together."
Oak seemed to accept this, albeit with a lingering skepticism. He knew Xiu's cautious, pragmatic nature. Rushing into a dangerous, unknown situation without a clear understanding of the risks and potential benefits wasn't Xiu's style.
"And then?" Oak prompted.
"Later," Xiu continued, "while investigating some leads related to Team Rocket's activities in Viridian, I stumbled upon her again. She was being hunted by those behind her back. So I… dealt with the pursuers and managed to get her out." He spread his hands, indicating the story was complete.
Seeing Oak's still-doubtful expression, he added quickly, "And don't worry, Professor, I made sure any loose ends from that encounter were… thoroughly tied up."
That seemed to mollify Oak somewhat. He knew Xiu was meticulous, even ruthless, when it came to covering his tracks. While he clearly wasn't thrilled about what Xiu did, he trusted Xiu's ability to manage the fallout.
"You don't need to be overly concerned, Professor," Xiu added, sensing Oak's lingering reservations. "I've studied their methods. Xiaochun was indoctrinated by that organization from a very young age, brainwashed into obedience. She was merely a tool to them."
He paused, then continued, "I have a way to disrupt that conditioning, to free her mind. It causes some memory gaps, some disorientation, but I can assure you, she harbors no malicious intent now.
She is, for the first time, capable of making her own choices. The acts that she was forced to commit – they weren't her. She was a puppet. Now, she has a chance to live as a human being, not a disposable asset. I hope you can give her that chance."
He looked directly at Oak, his voice taking on a serious, almost pleading tone. "And if I am wrong about her, if she proves to be a threat… I will deal with it myself. Personally."
Oak studied Xiu for a long moment, then closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. He waved a dismissive, impatient hand. "She's your responsibility, Xiu. You sort it out."
"Thank you, Professor," Xiu said quickly, a relieved smile touching his lips.
"Don't thank me yet, boy," Oak grumbled, tossing the data file from Xiaochun's earlier scan onto the desk in front of Xiu. "Take a look at this. Then we'll see how optimistic you feel."
Xiu picked up the file, his smile fading as he began to read. Having spent months working in Oak's lab, assisting with various analyses, he understood enough of the medical jargon and biometric readings to grasp the grim implications. The more he read, the deeper his frown became.
After several minutes, he lowered the file, his expression troubled. "So," he said quietly, looking at Oak, "there's really nothing that can be done?"
"Her physiology is… highly anomalous," Oak stated, his scientific curiosity warring with a physician's concern. "Do you know what could have caused this?"
"She mentioned being regularly administered some kind of drug, or potion, since she was a child," Xiu replied, recalling fragments of information gleaned from Xiaochun's broken mental state. "No idea what it was, or for how long she was subjected to it."
Oak nodded, as if this confirmed his suspicions. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant. "Her apparent age is deceptive. Based on these preliminary findings, I'd estimate her true biological age to be at least eighteen or nineteen, possibly older. Certainly older than you, Xiu."
He continued, his voice taking on a clinical tone. "Her musculoskeletal structure exhibits an unnatural flexibility far beyond normal human limits. She's also severely underweight, with an extremely low body fat percentage – levels that would cause significant health problems in an ordinary individual, yet she shows no outward signs of malnutrition or organ failure. It's… perplexing."
He paused, then his expression grew even graver. "The damage to her vocal cords is also extensive and irreversible. I see no possibility of her ever regaining her voice naturally."
Xiu had suspected as much, but hearing Oak's definitive prognosis still landed like a blow. "So that's it then…" he murmured, a wave of disappointment washing over him.
"That's not the worst of it, Xiu," Oak interrupted, his voice grim. He leaned forward again, his gaze intent. "You're thinking too superficially. Those drugs, whatever they were, they didn't just grant her enhanced physical abilities.
They ravaged her body from the inside out. Her internal organs show signs of cumulative damage and cellular degradation. It's not apparent now, but eventual organ failure is… highly probable. And," he added, his voice dropping, "she's lost the ability to conceive. She's sterile."
Xiu felt a cold knot form in his stomach. He processed this new, horrifying information, a chilling understanding dawning. "No wonder," he said slowly, "all the operatives I encountered from that organization were young.
I never saw anyone middle-aged, let alone old. They weren't valued as individuals… they were designed to be consumables. Expendables with a built-in expiration date."
"Precisely," Oak confirmed. "And even beyond the long-term organ damage, her current low body fat presents an immediate risk. She's susceptible to sudden illness, even cardiac arrest, with little physiological reserve to fight it."
"I understand," Xiu said, his voice flat. His eyes were unfocused, his mind reeling from the implications. He'd promised Oak he would handle Xiaochun's situation. Now, he was confronted with a problem far more complex, far more tragic, than he could have imagined.
Oak, noticing Xiu's bleak expression, offered a sliver of pragmatic hope. "Perhaps," he suggested, "with careful study, we might find ways to mitigate some of the damage, to alleviate the symptoms and somewhat prolong her lifespan. It's not a cure, but… it might be something."
"Yes," Xiu nodded slowly, his mind still elsewhere. "Something."
He left Oak's lab shortly after, returning to the quiet solitude of the warehouse. He walked softly to Xiaochun's makeshift bed. She opened her eyes as he approached, her gaze questioning. She hadn't been asleep, or perhaps his quiet movements had disturbed her.
Looking at her small, trusting face, Xiu didn't know what to say, how to even begin to explain the grim future Professor Oak had outlined. He forced a smile, reaching out to gently smooth her hair. "Go to sleep, Chun," he murmured. "Rest."
He turned and walked back to his own rough-hewn bed, lying down, staring up at the dusty rafters of the warehouse.
If I hadn't intervened… if I hadn't rescued her… she'd likely be dead already. But why?
He found himself wondering an unsettling question in the quiet darkness. Why did I save her in the first place? He closed his eyes, the answer eluding him, lost in the complex tangle of pragmatism, empathy, and the lingering shadows of a past life's morality.