"Thank you for your hospitality, Gym Leader Terran. If you ever have the chance to visit the Kanto Region, please stop by Pallet Town—I'll be sure to return the favor." Gary offered a respectful nod and turned to leave the breeding facility.
The trade wasn't going to happen. None of the Pokémon here met his standards. There was no point lingering.
"Wait a moment!"
Granson's voice cut through the afternoon air—sharp, deliberate, carrying the tone of a man who'd been biding his time.
Gary stopped and looked back. The old breeder stood near the hatchery building, his arms folded across his chest, his weathered face unreadable except for a subtle gleam in his eyes that Gary recognized immediately.
He's been holding something back.
"I have another Drilbur," Granson said. "But its potential is uncertain. I don't know if you'd be willing to make the exchange under those conditions."
Terran turned to his father with open confusion. He managed the breeding operation alongside Granson—he knew every Pokémon in their stock, every egg in their hatchery, every breeding pair's lineage and output. There were exactly two Drilbur at this facility: the male and the female that Gary had already scanned and rejected. Where was a third one supposed to come from?
Uncertain potential? Gary's mind latched onto the specific wording. His system could assess any hatched Pokémon's potential instantly, but eggs were opaque—the Pokémon inside hadn't been born yet, so there was no data to read. If Granson was describing a Drilbur whose potential genuinely couldn't be determined…
It hasn't hatched. The crafty old man is sitting on an egg.
"Let me see it," Gary said.
"Follow me," Granson replied, already turning toward the wooden building at the edge of the compound.
Gary raised an eyebrow. Why inside?
He followed without further questions, Eevee alert on his shoulder. Terran and Yuko trailed behind, both visibly puzzled.
Granson pushed open the heavy insulated door of the hatchery and led them inside. The temperature shift was immediate—warm, humid, carefully regulated. Soft light from overhead panels illuminated rows of padded shelves, each one holding Pokémon Eggs in various sizes and stages of development. The air carried a faint organic warmth—straw, nutrient solution, and the subtle pulse of developing life.
"This is the hatchery," Gary observed, scanning the room. Several eggs were recognizable—Hippopotas, Gligar, Numel. Standard stock for a Ground-type breeding facility.
Granson walked past all of them and stopped at a cradle near the back.
"This," he said, gesturing to the egg resting inside, "is a Drilbur egg."
Gary looked at it. The egg was brown with streaks of deep reddish-orange running across its shell in patterns that resembled mineral veins. It was smaller than many of the others, but its shell had a faint metallic luster—a subtle sheen that ordinary eggs didn't possess.
Then Gary looked at Granson.
An unhatched egg. He's offering me a gamble—an unhatched Pokémon Egg with completely unknown potential, in exchange for a Peat Block that's guaranteed to produce a Champion-tier Ursaluna.
This old fox waited until I rejected everything else, then pulled out the mystery box. If I didn't have my system to verify the other Pokémon's potential, he probably would have tried to pass off one of the Gym-tier Drilbur as "high potential" first. But since I saw through those instantly, he had to escalate to the one thing I can't verify: an egg.
As they say—experience beats youth every time. The old ginger is always spicier.
"So the Drilbur hasn't hatched," Gary said flatly. It wasn't a question.
"That's correct," Granson confirmed, entirely unapologetic. "It should hatch soon, but until then, the potential is unknown."
Gary stared at the egg for a long moment, then back at Granson.
This is essentially asking me to buy a lottery ticket. If the Drilbur inside has Elite-tier potential, the trade is excellent. If it's Gym-tier, I've been swindled by an old man in a yellow uniform.
"Before you make up your mind," Granson said, reading Gary's expression with the practiced ease of decades, "let me explain the egg's background."
"Go ahead," Gary said, keeping his tone neutral. If Granson couldn't provide a compelling reason, Gary would walk out the door without a second thought.
"I purchased this egg at a certified auction in Crown City," Granson began, his voice taking on a more businesslike quality. "Full provenance documentation was provided at the time of sale. The mother was an Elite-tier Excadrill. The father was an Elite-tier Lucario."
Gary blinked.
Excadrill and Lucario.
The mental image that produced was… something. In terms of Egg Group compatibility, both species belonged to the Field group, making them biologically viable breeding partners. The mechanics were sound. But the visual of a Lucario—an upright, aura-wielding warrior canine—paired with an Excadrill—a subterranean drill-mole—was the kind of combination that made you pause and question the fundamental logic of Pokémon biology.
Gary pushed the imagery aside and focused on what mattered: genetics.
Two Elite-tier parents. In standard breeding theory, offspring potential is heavily influenced by parental potential tiers. With both parents at Elite-tier, the statistical floor for the offspring is Gym-tier at worst, and the most probable outcome is Quasi-Elite or Elite-tier. There's even a small chance of Champion-tier if the genetic combination is particularly favorable.
That's a solid bet. Not guaranteed—but solid.
"Do you have the auction certificate?" Gary asked.
"One moment—I'll find it."
Granson shuffled out of the hatchery. Nearly fifteen minutes passed—long enough for Gary to examine the egg more closely, noting the metallic sheen on its shell and the faint warmth emanating from within. Healthy shell quality often correlated with high-potential Pokémon. Not conclusive, but a positive sign.
The old man returned slightly out of breath, clutching a laminated document.
Gary took it and examined it with the careful eye of someone who'd seen enough paperwork to spot a forgery at a glance. The certificate was professionally produced—printed on watermarked paper with holographic security features. It bore:
A high-resolution photograph of the egg—matching the one in front of him perfectly.
The date and lot number of the auction.
Documented lineage: the mother (Elite-tier Excadrill, registered breeder ID, battle record summary) and the father (Elite-tier Lucario, registered breeder ID, battle record summary).
The estimated incubation cycle, with a projected hatching window.
And at the bottom—the official certification stamp of the Unova Regional Breeding Association.
Gary cross-referenced the incubation timeline with the current date. The numbers aligned perfectly—based on the projected cycle, the egg should hatch within approximately one week.
"The UBA seal is authentic," Granson pointed out, tapping the embossed insignia. "That certification can't be forged—it's verified through a central registry. This egg's provenance is legitimate."
Gary weighed the decision one final time, running his standard risk assessment.
Worst case: the Drilbur hatches with Gym-tier potential. That would make the trade a net loss compared to the Peat Block's value. However, I have two Bronze Bottle Caps in storage that can boost a Pokémon's potential by one tier. A Gym-tier Drilbur could be elevated to Elite-tier with a single Bottle Cap. The downside is fully covered.
Expected case: the Drilbur hatches with Quasi-Elite or Elite-tier potential. That makes the trade roughly equivalent in value to the Peat Block, which is fair.
Best case: Elite-tier or higher. That makes the trade a clear win.
The documentation checks out. The UBA seal is genuine. The parental lineage is strong. And the downside is insured by the Bottle Caps.
"Alright," Gary said, handing the certificate back. "I agree to the exchange."
Granson's weathered face creased into a genuine smile—the first unguarded expression of satisfaction Gary had seen from the old man all afternoon. Terran exhaled with visible relief, and Yuko let out a small, excited sound before quickly composing herself.
The exchange happened quickly. Yuko ran to fetch a portable incubator—a compact, insulated carrying unit with built-in temperature regulation, designed specifically for safe transport of Pokémon Eggs. She transferred the Drilbur egg from its cradle to the portable unit with careful, practiced hands, secured the lid, and presented it to Gary.
Gary accepted the incubator with one hand and produced the Peat Block from his system storage with the other. He placed it in Terran's waiting palms—then paused.
"One thing," Gary said. "This Peat Block contains significantly more energy than a standard specimen. When it's used to evolve an Ursaring into Ursaluna, there's a strong chance it will boost the resulting Pokémon's potential by one full tier above what the Ursaring originally possessed. I'd strongly recommend catching the highest-potential Ursaring you can find before using it. Otherwise you'll be wasting the enhancement."
Terran's eyes widened. He looked down at the rough brown block in his hands—this unassuming lump of compressed earth that had just become infinitely more valuable than he'd realized.
"It increases potential during evolution?" he repeated.
"That's my assessment," Gary confirmed. "Don't waste it on a common specimen."
"Understood." Terran nodded firmly, cradling the Peat Block with both hands. He'd already been planning to find the best Ursaring available—but knowing that the Peat Block itself carried an enhancement effect elevated the stakes considerably. "Thank you for telling me, Gary. I'll find the strongest Ursaring in the region before I use it."
"Then I'll be going," Gary said.
He said his farewells—a respectful nod to Granson, who returned it with the satisfied expression of a man who'd played his best card and won; a handshake with Terran, whose gratitude was palpable; and a brief wave to Yuko, who returned it with a fierce, competitive glare that clearly communicated this isn't over.
Gary mounted Cyclizar and rode back to Silvercrown Town, the portable incubator secured carefully in his bag. Eevee sat on his shoulder, occasionally glancing back at the bag with curious ears.
Back at the Pokémon Center, Gary checked into a room and set the incubator on the desk. Then he opened his system storage to review the rewards from the Silvercrown Gym challenge—specifically the random Pokémon item he hadn't examined yet.
"System, show me the random item reward."
[Garchompite — Mega Stone. When held by Garchomp, enables Mega Evolution into Mega Garchomp in the presence of a Key Stone.]
Gary stared at the screen.
Then he stared at it again.
Garchompite.
Of all the random items the system could have generated—berries, held items, evolutionary stones, competitive accessories—it had produced the exact Mega Stone for the exact Pokémon that served as Gary's primary aerial transport and one of his strongest battlers. Garchomp. His Garchomp. The same Garchomp that had carried him across the Sinnoh Region, fought Team Galactic at Mt. Coronet, and served as the backbone of his team since the beginning of his Sinnoh journey.
The probability of that specific roll is astronomically low, Gary thought, allowing himself a rare, wide smile. Mega Garchomp. Dragon/Ground-type with massively boosted Attack and Special Attack. In Sandstorm—which Tyranitar summons automatically—Mega Garchomp's Sand Force Ability would boost all Ground, Rock, and Steel moves by 30%...
He carefully stored the Garchompite, his mind already racing through the strategic implications.
Next order of business.
"System—redeem Ground-type TM from the bonus objective. Selection: Scorching Sands."
[Ding! TM redemption successful.]
Gary had already won a Scorching Sands TM from Yuko's wager battle, but that was a single-use disc—once taught to one Pokémon, it was consumed and gone. The system's trainer-choice reward was a permanent TM, reusable on any compatible Pokémon indefinitely. By selecting Scorching Sands from the system as well, Gary ensured he could teach the move to his entire roster if needed.
He'd chosen Scorching Sands over the more powerful Earth Power deliberately. Earth Power had 90 base power compared to Scorching Sands' 70—a significant raw damage advantage. But Scorching Sands possessed a unique dual-nature: it was a Ground-type special attack that carried a 30% chance to inflict a burn on the target. The burn effect functioned as pseudo-Fire-type utility—Pokémon weak to Fire took enhanced damage from the burn component, and the Attack-halving effect of burns crippled physical attackers. That versatility, in Gary's judgment, outweighed the 20-point power gap.
Gary decided to stay in Silvercrown Town for the foreseeable future. His reasoning was strategic: Crown City was nearby, and Silvercrown Town would be among the first to receive news of any unusual events in the neighboring metropolis. When Grings Kodai's scheme began to unfold—when illusory Legendary Beasts appeared in Crown City's streets and Celebi arrived at the Time Ripple—the news would reach Silvercrown Town within minutes. From there, Gary could be in Crown City on Garchomp's back in under an hour.
He settled into a routine. Mornings were for training—he took his Sinnoh team to the sandy terrain outside town and ran intensive drills. Rhyperior practiced leveraging its EX Solid Rock in simulated disadvantage matchups. Electivire refined its Thunder Punch combinations. The rest of the squad worked on stamina, move accuracy, and team coordination.
Evenings were for monitoring the egg.
The portable incubator sat on Gary's hotel room desk, its temperature display glowing softly in the dim light. Each day, the egg grew slightly warmer. Each day, the faint movements inside grew a little stronger—tiny shifts and twitches, the developing Pokémon stirring within its shell. The metallic luster on the eggshell intensified, and by the fourth day, hairline cracks had begun to appear along the reddish-orange streaks.
Five days passed.
On the afternoon of the fifth day, the egg began to glow.
Gary was reviewing training notes at his desk when the incubator's display flickered and a warm, golden-brown light began pulsing from the egg inside. Rhythmic. Steady. Growing brighter with each pulse.
"Right on schedule," Gary murmured. "The timing matches the certificate perfectly. It's genuine."
He opened the incubator and lifted the egg out with both hands, cradling it gently. The shell was hot to the touch—not painfully so, but radiating a deep, earthy warmth that spoke of the life building toward its first breath inside.
His Pokémon gathered close. They'd been training in the field behind the hotel, and the commotion drew them in. Eevee hopped onto the desk, dark eyes wide. Electivire leaned in from behind, its cable-tails twitching with curiosity. Rhyperior, far too massive for the hotel room, pressed its face against the window from outside and peered in with fascinated, saucer-like eyes. Weavile perched on a chair back, watching with sharp-eyed interest.
None of them had ever witnessed a Pokémon hatching from an egg before.
The glow intensified. The shell trembled—hairline cracks widening, spreading, branching outward like roots growing in fast-forward. Light spilled through each crack in brilliant golden-white lines, turning the egg into a luminous constellation held in Gary's palms.
The light reached its peak—a blinding, warm corona that filled the room.
The shell broke.
Fragments fell away in a shower of golden sparks, dissolving into motes of light before they touched the desk. The silhouette within shifted, stretched, uncurled—
And there, sitting in Gary's hands, blinking up at the world for the very first time with bright, newborn eyes, was a tiny Drilbur.