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Austin's eyes snapped open as he suddenly sat up. He found himself in an office that was the definition of simplicity. 

No grand designs, no paintings—nothing that added any flair or distraction. It was exactly what it needed to be: a plain space where Austin could focus on his work in peace.

"Looks like you're awake," a voice said, as a cup of coffee was placed in front of Austin.

"Thank you, Alfred," Austin responded, turning to his butler. Alfred was a man of a certain age, with silver hair that hinted at his experience and wisdom. Despite his advanced years, he moved with an efficiency and grace that belied his age, his eyes always observing, missing nothing.

"How long was I out?" Austin asked, taking a sip of the coffee.

"Twenty minutes. You really need to get some sleep, Master Austin," Alfred replied, concern lacing his tone.

Austin merely continued to drink his coffee in silence. His butler's comment led to a discussion about Austin's new sleep schedule, based on the Uberman sleep cycle. This unconventional sleep pattern involved taking short naps throughout the day instead of sleeping for one long stretch at night. 

The primary advantage for Austin was that it eliminated his dreams—or more accurately, his nightmares—allowing him to fall asleep quickly and wake up without the dread of his subconscious.

Moreover, this sleep cycle was a necessity given Austin's current workload. Since gaining influence over the board of directors of Silph Co., Austin had managed to network extensively, reaching out to their contacts, and then to those contacts' contacts. Through this web of connections, he had exposed many of Kanto's actual criminals. However, the idea of bringing these high-profile individuals to justice was more a hopeful wish than a realistic expectation.

The real criminals, as it turned out, were often from the upper echelons of Kanto society. It was a bitter reminder of the saying, "the richest fruit is the most rotten."

Austin was well aware that simply exposing the corrupt elite of Kanto wouldn't instantly fix everything. These people had the means and resources to dodge the law effortlessly. So, Austin decided to force their hand, much like he did with the board of directors at Silph Co. But how? The answer was simple: he stripped them of their identities.

With a straightforward command, Porygon, Austin's trusty digital ally, infiltrated their accounts. These weren't just any accounts; they were the kind stashed away in offshore banks, hidden trusts, shell corporations, and other financial havens commonly used by the wealthy to conceal their wealth, especially those engaging in illicit activities.

Depending on the severity of their crimes, Austin had a plan. For those involved in heinous acts like human trafficking or exploiting orphans, he ensured they were bankrupted and handed over to international law enforcement. But for those whose crimes were, in his eyes, less vile—like real estate scams, money laundering, and bribery—he took over their businesses. The former heads of these companies found themselves exiled to remote islands Austin had purchased, left to ponder their choices in isolation.

When Austin acquired a company, he initiated reforms to pivot its operations toward legality. For example, a business previously dealing in the illegal trade of Slowpoke tails was transformed into a biotech firm working on lab-grown alternatives. This innovation was not immediate; it would take years to perfect. In the meantime, Austin made the process more humane: Slowpokes were to be legally captured, sedated, and then, under professional care, have their tails harvested before being safely released back into the wild. It was a compromise, still a crime in essence but significantly less cruel than the previous regime.

Austin applied similar tactics across the board, understanding that while he couldn't eradicate crime completely, he could soften its impact. With the profits from these illicit businesses, he founded counter companies aimed at addressing the root causes of these crimes. These organizations worked on education and prevention, explaining the dangers and ethical concerns associated with practices like the trade in Slowpoke tails, and striving to eliminate the demand that fueled these markets.

Austin sat there, flipping through the pages of the biotech lab report with a furrowed brow. 

The news wasn't good. 

The creation of lab-grown Slowpoke tails, a venture he had hoped would put an end to the cruel trade, was still a decade away. Disappointment was an understatement.

"Disappointed, Master Austin?" Alfred queried, his voice calm and steady as he observed Austin's reaction.

Austin merely nodded, his mind racing. He then looked up at Alfred with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. 

"Alfred, you've been working with me for about a month now. What do you think I do?" he asked, genuinely interested in Alfred's perspective.

"Master Austin, I am fully aware of your undertakings in the underworld," Alfred replied, his tone unwavering. 

"And I am aware that you know everything about me—my family, my background. You hired me after your Kadabra deemed me the perfect fit for this role."

Austin was visibly impressed. Alfred had proven to be more perceptive than he had initially thought. 

"Do you know why I asked you that question?" Austin inquired further, standing up from his seat.

"Because you seek the opinion of someone with life experience," Alfred answered promptly.

Austin nodded, a serious look crossing his face. 

"Exactly. So, tell me, Alfred, what should I do about the illegal Slowpoke tail trade? Should I shut it down, expose the business, or wait the ten years for the lab solution?"

Alfred pondered for a moment before responding. "A lot can happen in ten years, Master Austin. The market might change, or the lab might find a breakthrough sooner. But I believe patience is a virtue here. And perhaps, you should also consider taking a real night's sleep."

Austin cracked a small smile, the tension in his shoulders easing. 

"You're right. I should get some sleep. And perhaps step back from the darker side of things for a while."

"That sounds like a plan. How about something to eat? Perhaps some caramel popcorn and a movie to unwind?" Alfred suggested, already moving to prepare the snack.

Austin's face lit up at the idea. "That sounds perfect. What movie do you have in mind?"

"It was released just a week ago. 'Men in Black'," Alfred informed him.

Austin froze, blinking in disbelief. 

"Men in Black? That came out weeks ago?" Confusion washed over him. 

The realization hit that he had lost track of time. 

Between his travels with Brock and the others, his intense focus on training and keeping his Pokémon and Yellow safe, Austin had inadvertently disconnected from the passage of time. 

The Pokémon world's ambiguous relationship with time didn't help, nor did his lack of engagement with newspapers, magazines, or any sort of news media. In his world, keeping up with current events had fallen by the wayside.

"Alfred, can you tell me what year it is?" Austin finally asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

With a knowing smile, Alfred looked back at him. 

"1997."

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[Omake Paragraph]

There is no pokemon which evolves that does not lose some part of itself through the process of evolution. And even species which do not undergo such a dramatic metamorphosis, such as humans and non-evolving pokemon, often find that they left something important behind in exchange for strength and maturity. In no species, however, is this transformation nearly as painful as in the Nincada, who are split in two; an extremely fast and fairly powerful bug named Ninjask, and a fragile spirit of childhood called Shedinja.

It is said that Shedinja steal spirits, but this is a poor understanding of the personality changes they can create. People who stare into the backs of Shedinja change dramatically, but it is less a loss than a reversion; that part of their personality they lost comes to the forefront. It does not take the form of a Charizard saying Charmander or anything of that sort, but of an idealistic person or pokemon remembering what they once loved and following their forgotten dreams.

Yet to the world they live in, such idealism and passion is seen as only fit for children. Perhaps this is why so many children come out of nowhere to become Pokemon League Champion. Shedinja may not be much use in a battle, but there is much that can be learned from them all the same; they do not steal spirits, but restore them to their proper form.