Standing beside Logan, Sabrina had also prepared for battle. Even though Agatha's earlier comments seemed directed primarily at Logan, the current situation bound him and Sabrina together like insects tied to the same string—if one fell, so would the other. Who knew if Agatha's words were simply a ruse to coax Sabrina into stepping aside and rendering herself useless? Smart as she was, Sabrina would never fall for that trap.

Right now, it didn't matter whose enemy they were facing. Any enemy was their enemy.

Just as Logan and Sabrina tightened their grips on their Poké Balls, Agatha's expression shifted dramatically—turning from sinister to that of a kindly, gentle grandmother in a heartbeat. The speed of her emotional transformation was downright terrifying.

"Oh dear, oh dear. When you get old, you start reminiscing about the past and spouting all kinds of nonsense. I hope I didn't scare you just now?"

Logan and Sabrina exchanged a look. Through their psychic link, Sabrina handed over the conversational reins to Logan. She'd always been one to avoid unnecessary talk, and besides, with Logan's wit, he'd never fall into a verbal trap.

"No worries at all, ma'am. We understand your words come from a place of wisdom—your years grant you insight. How could we possibly take offense?"

Since Agatha was pretending not to recognize them, Logan had no choice but to play along.

"Hehehe… That's good, that's good. An old woman like me rarely has the chance to chat with young people anymore. It's getting late, and you probably don't have a place to stay, right? No matter why you came to Lavender Town, rest is still important. But folks here won't deal with outsiders. Even if you tried to find an inn, you wouldn't get a room."

Agatha hobbled slowly as she spoke, her frail appearance well-maintained. If not for that, Logan would've assumed she was the kind of old witch from a fairy tale who lured children into her home.

"Oh? And why is that? Are the people of Lavender Town that hostile to outsiders?"

Logan narrowed his eyes as he asked.

"That's a long story," she said. "Let's just say this—no one here will take you in. But I've got a little place of my own nearby. Why not stay at my house tonight? As payment, you can just keep an old woman company for a little while. And I'll even tell you what you want to know."

Agatha suggested this with a kind smile.

Logan was about to refuse—but the moment he opened his mouth, every hair on his body stood on end. Beside him, Sabrina shivered ever so slightly.

Something instinctual, something primal in both their psychic minds, screamed a warning:

If they refused, they would be attacked immediately.

It was like an invisible gaze was locked onto them, watching their every move—yet they couldn't pinpoint it. It felt like it came from behind… or perhaps from every direction at once. The danger was clear, but the source was unknown. That kind of uncertainty was a psychic's worst nightmare.

Agatha truly was a Ghost-type master—her understanding of how to suppress Psychics was terrifying.

Logan turned to ask Sabrina's opinion, but she was already standing calmly, arms crossed and eyes shut, leaving the decision entirely in his hands.

With no choice, Logan gave it a bit of thought—and agreed to Agatha's offer.

If they refused, they'd be forced into a direct battle. The only option would be to flee, which would cause their mission to fail. Besides, this was her turf. Whether they stayed or ran, she'd hold the upper hand. Still, Logan was bold—if he couldn't win, he could still run.

Agatha may have mastered her Ghost-types, but even she didn't fully understand the essence of Psychic power. She was nothing like Sabrina, who had even designed countermeasures strong enough to prevent Mewtwo from teleporting away.

Logan assumed Sabrina had the same thoughts—both Ghost and Psychic types excelled in trickery and misdirection. And when it came to escape tactics, they were equals.

That's why Logan still preferred Dragon-types. His unique Dragonforce neutralized their weaknesses. But against a Ghost-type Elite Four member like Agatha? Even Mewtwo would have to tread carefully.

They followed Agatha in silence to her home—a small two-story Western-style house. From the outside, it looked worn down. But once inside, they were greeted by a surprisingly cozy interior, a complete contrast to Lavender Town's dreary atmosphere.

Yet the moment they crossed the threshold, an unexplainable sense of discomfort hit them. Not because of traps—but from something deeper. Like before, they couldn't identify the source—only that something was off.

Logan knew that if he wanted answers, he had to be the one to push forward.

Sabrina didn't like speaking, so he asked, "If no one in this town speaks to outsiders… why are you talking to us?"

"I'm not from Lavender Town either," Agatha said, placing her cane against the wall. "I only moved here two months ago. To them, I'm an outsider too—and they don't talk to me either."

She motioned for Logan and Sabrina to sit at the table, then slowly brewed two cups of tea. Setting them down, she added, "I don't have the drinks young folks prefer, I'm afraid. Hope you don't mind some tea."

"You're far too kind. Just giving us shelter is more than generous—we'd never ask you to make us tea as well."

Logan quickly stood and accepted the tea, a look of humility on his face.

Sabrina glanced sideways at him. This guy really knew how to play a role. From his mannerisms and speech, no one would guess he wasn't even sixteen yet.

"Ma'am, can you tell us why the people of Lavender Town avoid talking to outsiders?"

"That's no secret here," Agatha said with a pause. "I'm glad to have someone to talk to again, so I don't mind sharing."

She sipped her tea, then began:

"The most well-known place in Lavender Town is the Tower of Prayer. Every outsider who visits ends up going there. But starting a month ago—anyone who enters never comes out. Gone. Vanished."

"That alone would be eerie enough. But then it got worse—any local who even talked to those missing outsiders fell gravely ill shortly after. Over this past month, the rumors have gotten wilder and darker. Some say the tower's haunted. Urban legends like the 'Bone Tower' and 'Buried-Alive Man' are everywhere now."

"The entire town is on edge. No one dares speak to outsiders anymore. No one dares go to that tower. Everyone's terrified they'll vanish next."

Logan fell silent. He was almost certain all this chaos had been engineered by the old woman in front of him.

To throw an entire town into fear? She definitely had the power and cunning.

Just then, Logan's eye caught something—a photo frame on a nearby cabinet.

It showed a man and a woman, young and smiling.

Logan's sharp eyes immediately recognized the man: even though the photo was taken over three decades ago, that square face was unmistakably Professor Oak. He wasn't conventionally handsome, but there was something undeniably captivating about his presence.

Next to him was a petite young woman in a lab coat, the same as his. Though she was smiling for the photo, her gaze wasn't toward the camera—it was locked onto Oak, her face radiating joy and affection.

"…That was me, in my youth," Agatha suddenly spoke. Her voice had turned cold, hollow.

"You were truly beautiful back then," Logan replied—not flattery, just honesty. The woman in the photo was easily on par with Sabrina, Cynthia, or Green in terms of beauty.

"You hear that, girl?" Agatha suddenly turned to Sabrina. Her tone grew sharp and mocking.

"Men are all the same. Always full of sweet talk. Even when they meet an old hag like me, they'll still use flowery lies to flatter."

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