It was a difficult task, but someone had to do it. We couldn’t use shortcuts. We couldn’t afford explosives. Pokémon would refuse to help, so it had to be done with handheld tools. The demolition of the Pokémon Tower, that is. I had no hand in making the decision, and even if I quit the job it would have happened anyway. I needed the money; I was a poor man from Cinnabar. Anyway, I’m rambling, as it’s hard to think of what twenty workers and I were doing. But enough of him, it’s hard enough being here, doing this, already. Tearing up their peace. Destroying the building was wrong.