That sentence hit like a sledgehammer, smashing straight through the last bit of denial in the heart of the man wearing the Pikachu mascot head on the other side of the screen.
"I—I'll get it! I'm getting it right now!"
The mascot man, TrollKing99, looked like his soul had left his body. All that arrogant trolling bravado vanished in an instant.
With a strangled yelp, he lunged toward the aquarium he once proudly called a "luxury mansion."
In his panic, his foot caught on a power strip on the floor. He stumbled, nearly smashing headfirst into the tank.
He didn't even notice the pain. Like a madman, he clawed at the sealed lid—the one he had once bragged about, complete with a childproof lock.
"Click! Click!"
The crisp unlocking sounds felt less like relief and more like the ticking of a countdown.
Finally—
"Crash—"
The heavy glass lid was ripped open.
He didn't even bother rolling up his sleeves. He plunged half his body into the water, both hands groping frantically through the dense, bottomless tangle of aquatic plants.
A few seconds later—
"I got it! It's—it's out!"
With a violent splash, he lifted the Squirtle out of the water as if he were cradling some fragile, priceless treasure. Its body no longer struggled. He practically yanked it free from the tank.
"Kh—kh—kh—!!!"
The moment Squirtle hit open air again, its body jolted violently, curling in on itself as if shocked.
Then—
"Bwah—"
A large gush of stagnant water mixed with stomach acid and mucus poured from its small mouth—the same mouth that should have been firing off Water Gun, now reduced to a choking mess.
It collapsed onto the cold floor, limbs limp. Its chest heaved wildly, wheezing in ragged, broken breaths.
The big, once-bright eyes were bloodshot now, unfocused, locked desperately onto a crack in the floor as if it were the only lifeline left in the world.
Its tiny claws were split from struggling too hard. Thin streaks of blood seeped out, yet it still clung to the floor with everything it had, even as its nails bent back painfully.
That was its desperate attachment to land.
And its bone-deep terror of water.
The live stream camera zoomed in mercilessly, broadcasting the unfiltered close-up to more than six hundred viewers.
The chat fell into dead silence.
No more "LOL."
No more "scripted."
A heavy, suffocating guilt spread across both sides of the screen.
[ChadPumpsIron: I… I can't watch this. Oh my God, it's still shaking. Whoever said it was faking, come out and say that again.]
[Fawn in the Woods: Waaaah… this is heartbreaking. As a trainer, this just shatters me. It's clearly a Water-type Pokemon, and it was pushed to this point.]
[CrazyCoinHunter: Is this what they mean by ignorance being evil? That tank really was no different from a water coffin. If the streamer hadn't yelled just now, this Squirtle would've died tonight.]
...
On the floor—
TrollKing99 slumped down, drenched. The water soaking his clothes was from the tank—but also cold sweat from brushing against death.
His hands trembled as he yanked off the ridiculous Pikachu head.
Underneath was a pale, sweat-drenched young face. He looked like a college student in his early twenties. The smug arrogance from before was gone.
All that remained was lingering fear, regret, and the blank confusion of a worldview collapsing in real time.
He stared at the Squirtle on the floor, still dry-heaving. His hands hovered awkwardly in midair. He wanted to touch it, to comfort it—yet he was terrified of frightening it again.
"Squirtle… I—I'm sorry…"
His voice cracked. Tears mixed with sweat as they slid down his face.
"I really didn't know… I thought deep water was common sense for raising turtles… I thought the lid was protecting you… I'm such an idiot!"
He suddenly looked up at the phone screen, at Logan Moore, eyes full of desperation and pleading.
"Master… streamer… it—it's going to be okay, right? It stopped moving just now… Did I almost kill it?"
Logan watched the crying young man. The anger in his eyes slowly cooled.
No matter what, a Pokemon had been saved.
"It's fine. You pulled it out in time. It's alive."
He let out a breath. His tone softened slightly, though it still carried a sharp warning.
"But you drained the water from its body. The water in its mind? That's not going away so easily."
"The water in its mind?" The young man blinked.
"This Squirtle's hydrophobia is carved into its bones now."
Logan pointed at the screen.
"From here on out, you'll need ten times—no, a hundred times—the patience of an ordinary trainer to slowly rebuild its trust in this world. Can you do that?"
"I can! I have to!"
The young man wiped his tears hard and nodded furiously, even raising three fingers to swear.
"From now on, it's my ancestor! If I ever throw it back in the water or treat it badly again, may I get hit by a car the moment I step outside! I—"
As if that weren't enough, he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of the camera with a loud thud.
"Master! Thank you! Really, thank you!"
"If you hadn't yelled at me just now, I would've become a murderer! I was being a jerk, I was ignorant—I shouldn't have argued with you! You're the real deal! I'll grovel to you!"
That kneel carried gratitude for saving a life—and repentance for his own ignorance.
"Enough. A man's knees aren't meant to hit the ground so easily."
Logan waved him off, gaze complicated as he looked at the Squirtle on the floor.
"If you're going to kneel, it shouldn't be to me."
"It should be to it."
"To the Squirtle you've been torturing in the name of 'love' for so long."
The young man trembled.
He shuffled forward on his knees until he was in front of Squirtle.
"Squirtle…"
He lowered his head until his forehead almost touched the floor, voice choked with tears.
"I'm sorry… I was wrong… I really was… I'll never lock you in there again…"
Hearing that familiar voice, Squirtle—still trembling, still wary of everything around it—froze.
Instinctively, it tried to pull its head back into its shell, to escape the man who had filled its world with suffocating nightmares.
But—
When it saw him kneeling there, crying like a helpless child—
When it felt the hand reaching toward it, still shaking but no longer grabbing forcefully—only hesitantly—
It stopped.
In those big eyes, still clouded with fear, a flicker of confusion appeared.
Then, a heartbreaking gentleness.
Pokemon truly are the purest, most naive creatures in the world.
They don't understand human complexity. They don't understand words like "abuse."
They only know one thing—
This is my trainer.
Even after being hurt a hundred times, if they sense even a sliver of kindness or remorse, they will still choose to forgive.
"Squirtle…" (Don't cry…)
With effort, Squirtle shifted its body. Its tiny claw—still trembling, nails split—reached out and lightly, lightly patted the back of the young man's hand.
Then it looked up and forced out a weak smile.
As if to say—
—I don't blame you. Just don't throw me back into that dark box again.
The image of the victim comforting the perpetrator shattered the emotional defenses of everyone in the stream.
The chat exploded. People broke down in tears.
[Fawn in the Woods: I just burst out crying! Squirtle is too sweet! It's still shaking! And it's comforting its trainer!]
[Kindergarten Food Theif: What did this guy do in his last life to deserve a Pokemon like this? Please, just be a decent human being from now on!]
[ScavengerGuy: This… this is what Pokemon are. Forever sincere. Forever bringing tears to our eyes. The streamer's right. We owe them too much.]