Sam was able to meet back up with his mother and catch Redi’s match. The schedule was incredibly tight, and battles were happening one after the other.

  Each battlefield type had its own sub-arena, and trainers were given the additional option of a "default" battlefield within the main arena itself. Matches were staggered to start every few minutes, never simultaneously, and trainers were given fifteen minutes to fight alongside five minutes for after-battle cleanup.

  The schedule wasn't perfect. Some matches went over, and some went under, but it averaged out well enough. With that twenty-minute block reserved per competitor, and with five possible arenas, a total of fifteen battles could take place in an hour.

  However, the first and second rounds were both set to take place today and were the largest rounds overall. A hundred twenty-eight battles would make up the first round, and another sixty-four would make up the second. With the current rate, it would take almost thirteen hours to get through all of the battles if everything ended on time.

  And that didn’t even account for the one-hour “lunch break” that was scheduled to take place between rounds.

  The only bright side about this fourteen-hour schedule was that it ensured all upcoming single-day rounds would be easier. Still, it was like the tournament was frontloading all of its exhaustion, and then everyone would need to carry that forward.

  Many were worried.

  Though the air was rife with both tension and an innate desire to battle, Redi's match went in her favor easily enough. Her opponent had the strange “specialization” of Pokémon that were both Water and Ground. Her team didn't exactly have any useful Grass Type moves, but her strategy still earned her the win.

  Rather than do anything to hide her team members or follow through with a complicated plan, Redi went with the simple strategy of assigning team members to specific opponents, and then she did whatever she could to ensure those match-ups were sustained.

  In a three-on-three match, she wanted to use all three of her Pokémon against only one opponent each, so whenever her opponent switched, she would switch as well.

  Since the trainer she fought lacked anything that could affect either’s freedom to recall their Pokémon, Redi was always able to adjust the match-up to be what she wanted. Her opponent was unable to stop her, and he was forced to fight in a battle that was solely determined by her.

  Ursaring tore into and practically buried a Quagsire. Porygon stayed out of range and used Tri-Attack to freeze a Gastrodon. Dragonair made an appearance, much to the delight of the audience, and she managed to pin a Swampert through a clever use of Twister.

  Already, just Dragonair on her own was enough to get Redi a following, but the presence of her unique Porygon2 was also earning her cheers.

  When her match ended, Redi waved to her growing number of fans and went up to the referee to whisper in his ear. Somehow, she convinced him to turn on his mic, and then, of course, the entire arena learned of her family’s business.

  “Yeah, I don't know why they let me do that,” Redi said afterward as she reclined against a tree in a park near the Conference grounds. “Like, I’ve done that in all of my previous tournaments. Why wouldn't I do that here?”

  “I guess they expected more decorum,” Sam offered flatly. He stood at the bottom of a small slope, only a few feet away.

  “It is an interesting marketing strategy,” his mother added from where she stood closer to the park’s edge. “I certainly didn’t expect it.”

  “Well, it works!” Redi exclaimed. “I asked my parents about it, and after the Beginner’s Tournament, interested phone calls went up a full twenty-five percent!”

  Of course, she meant four phone calls had turned into five, but her parents’ construction company mainly took on big jobs that resulted in large payments. Even just a single extra phone call was a victory in her books. It might not have led to a job, but it did mean there were more people aware of her family’s business out there.

  “And what about you?” Redi said, looking over to Sam’s mother. “You don't want your bookstore mentioned?”

  “It's a local business in another region,” she replied with a casual wave. “I get enough customers as it stands, and too much attention would overwhelm me with work. I wouldn't be able to handle all of that.”

  “But you could hire more workers! And then you could franchise! That’d be pretty swell, right?”

  Sam’s mother went quiet when faced with Redi’s smile.

  “It would, wouldn't it?” she whispered under her breath.

  Next to her, Sableye was crouched next to Delcatty, and for some reason, both Pokémon shivered.

  “What about you, Sam? Think it'd be worth it?” Redi asked.

  “Huh?”

  He looked away from where he’d been staring at the motionless Trevenant before him. He hadn't expected to be called on.

  “Advertising your mom's business? Getting her name out there?” Redi offered.

  “Oh, uh, sure. If she wants it, I guess,” he said.

  Sam turned back to Trevenant, and Trevenant continued to stand in place where he was rooted under the early afternoon sun. His battle had seen him push himself to the extreme; while repeated uses of Growth had resulted in the sweep Sam had sought, Trevenant had used Phantom Force faster than he had ever used it before, and he had to control a massive amount of energy to faint his opponents as quickly as he did.

  “Is Trevenant okay?” Redi asked. Her voice was quiet.

  “He's fine,” Sam said with a sigh. “He’s just exhausted.”

  Thankfully, the Pokémon Center had treated Trevenant the best they could, but for him to fully recover, he needed rest, and as a Grass Type, that meant he needed light. His Ghost Type half did make it so he was better off if that light came from the moon, but the sun’s light worked well enough, and his roots were letting him absorb needed nutrients from the earth.

  Trevenant stood as still as his tree-like body would imply. It would be a while until he was truly ready to move, and Sam stepped back to give him room, walking up the hill to deposit himself at Redi’s side.

  “The nurses said he's tapped out. Growth granted him a bunch of energy, but it also took all of his focus. His body is sturdy enough that he could take plenty of hits if we needed him to, but when it comes to actually using moves, he’s better off resting before doing anything like that.”

  Redi hummed. She’d seen Sam’s match.

  “And Mismagius?”

  “Fine. A little shaken after those Vine Whips, but she did well to buy space for Trevenant.”

  “So does that mean they’ll be good for your next match? You said you wanted to use them again, right? Trainers can use four Pokémon in the next round. Are these two part of your plan?”

  Faced with such a sudden onslaught of curious questions, it took Sam a second to respond.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he said, looking back at Trevenant.

  Truthfully, he still didn’t have a plan.

  It was the break between rounds, and Sam wanted to spend this time thinking, relaxing, and preparing for his next match. People were wandering and exploring the city around them. With the tournament’s start, there were a bunch of new arrivals. Even more would show up when the finals took place.

  But Sam was more focused on the tournament itself than the people. Before heading out here with Redi, he had checked to see who his next opponent would be, and Redi had done the same.

  Unlike him, she was currently reveling in the fact that her next opponent would use a team of Electric Types. Two of those Pokémon had taken heavy hits in the previous round to be knocked out, and the Flying Type on that trainer’s team had looked like it was already exhausted.

  Given that her opponent’s team only consisted of five Pokémon, and with just how much Ursaring had been practicing his Ground Type moves, Redi was in a strong position to overtake and sweep.

  Meanwhile, Sam’s opponent was significantly more complicated. He had all of their details in his League-labeled notebook, and he brought it out just to give them another read-through.

  While the next trainer he was set to face wasn’t anyone he recognized, they were a Psychic Type specialist, and though Sam’s team should have had the advantage, that wasn't exactly good news. Psychic Types excelled at both prediction and coverage. Their Type was basically the king of handling and dishing out special attacks. With Trevenant so tired, four out of the five remaining core members of Sam’s team heavily relied on special moves, and that would likely make most knock-outs more difficult than average.

  There was also the fact that his team would be vulnerable to many of his opponent’s Pokémon. Although the Ghost Type was super effective against the Psychic Type, Shadow Ball was the most common non-Psychic Type move that Psychic Types learned. Also, there was the issue of his team's mobility being countered by a Psychic Type's mobility. Moving through shadows meant little when your opponent could instantly shift positions with Teleport.

  “I'm worried, but I'm often worried about a lot,” Sam said, shifting back so he could lean against the trunk of the tree. “What if we don't beat them? What if getting here was just a fluke? What if the rankings were right, and we really are in last?”

  “Sam—”

  “But those questions are stupid,” he said as he clenched a held-up fist. “Doubting yourself? That’s easy to do, but all that does is drag you down. So I'm done with that. It’s not worth questioning myself or my team. We’re here now, we’ve earned our place, and we have a battle coming up. My focus is entirely on finding a way to win.”

  From atop the small hill, his mother smiled.

  “I know we can do this,” he continued, “but the problem is finding the right strategy. And then also, how much of my team do I want to reveal? The more we show off in each battle, the more other trainers will be able to make counters for us.”

  Sam remembered the head referee’s initial warning to not hold back, but he still wanted to see if he could at least save some of his team members as a surprise. Except, for this upcoming round, he doubted he could get away with using less than the recommended max. Psychic Type Pokémon at this level were always strong. He might have succeeded with using one Pokémon in the preliminaries and two Pokémon in the first round, but for this second round match, he’d likely need to use all four allowed.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  This would especially be true if he didn’t want to subject one of his Pokémon to something like Trevenant’s exhaustion and force them to carry that tiredness forward.

  That meant that he would have to reveal at least something. And between the five or so healthy Pokémon he had left, three of them would be surprises.

  Typhlosion. Annihilape. Drakloak.

  They’re all species not seen in Johto.

  Trevenant was at least native to the region, but his species was just rare. Most people in this tournament were primarily using Pokémon from Johto and Kanto, but a few were using species from Hoenn and Sinnoh. A number of trainers, one even less than them, were using one or two Pokémon only ever found further away.

  “So... I don’t get it,” Redi said, tilting her head to the side with a frown. “What’s the point?”

  Sam sent her a look.

  “What do you mean by ‘What’s the point?’”

  “Well, what's the point of hiding your team?” she clarified.

  Sam needed a moment to understand what she was trying to ask.

  “It's strategy,” he answered. “I want to hide someone so I can always have a surprise. If I hold one or two of my team members back, people won't know what to plan for, and then when I use them in battle, whoever I face won't have a counter to the Pokémon they fight.”

  After chewing on that idea, Redi shifted around to send her full gaze at Sam. He tried his best not to wiggle in place, uncomfortable by the weight of her stare.

  “But does that actually help?”

  Her words felt more like a statement than a question.

  “Of course it does. Like I said, it prevents my opponents from making pla—”

  “But not everyone you face is going to be so focused on planning like you are,” Redi interrupted. “And after that initial surprise, most people will just adapt.”

  Sam was silent.

  “Like, I get holding some stuff back, maybe a few strategies or a handful of moves, but you're planning to hold back way more. I mean, you’re trying not to use entire sections of your team!” Redi exclaimed. “Hiding something is usually less about the Pokémon themselves and more about hiding what they can do. With how you fight, you always try to have all of your Pokémon play off of each other, but now you’re talking about stopping yourself from doing that just for one moment of surprise!”

  Redi suddenly stopped herself to go quiet and tap her chin.

  “Hold on, how does that phrase go?” she asked. “You're cutting off your arm to spite your face?”

  “...That's not how the phrase goes, and it doesn’t apply,” Sam grumbled.

  His mother chuckled, and Redi waved him off.

  “Whatever. You get what I mean. Battles are already limited, so I don’t see the point in limiting yourself further. Everyone here is giving it their all, so this kind of talk is almost kind of insulting. Do you really want to hurt your chances just for a single surprise? Do you really want to risk holding back and never revealing your team members in the first place?”

  Silent, Sam sent her a frustrated look, but she stared right back without even blinking an eye. That stare-off lasted for several long seconds before Sam turned away, and he knew.

  Redi was right.

  He didn’t have a response. He honestly couldn’t have a response. For once, Redi was the one giving him advice on strategy, and she had basically taken his whole plan and picked it apart.

  In his opinion, the biggest part of the Conference was the information game, but not everyone played on the same field. Chuck had already told him that some trainers were more instinctual fighters and that others were better at making plans. Surprises were all but useless against one and were only somewhat effective against the other.

  With Trevenant forced to stay out of the next match, Sam had five, maybe six Pokémon to choose from. With three species that he wanted to keep hidden, he was cutting his potential options in half. Realistically, he would need to reveal at least a few of them.

  He thought about it, quietly grumbling to himself while weighing Redi’s advice in his head. Beneath him, Trevenant was still recovering, and Sam knew he couldn’t risk exhausting his Pokémon again in the battles over the coming days.

  Except, I need to actually reach those battles before I can start worrying about them.

  “Do you agree with her, Mom?” Sam asked.

  A pause.

  “I do. She’s right,” came his mother’s reply.

  Sam let out a breath, recognizing his tough position. He was forced to ask himself a question:

  Did he really want to throw out all of his plans just because they were making him worse off?

  Yeah. I probably do.

  “Ugh.” Sam scratched at the sides of his head out of annoyance. “Why was I doing that!? I almost just completely screwed myself over. I would have held back my best fighters just because I didn’t want to reveal them, but if I don’t reveal them, then when would I do that?

  “Holding back against a team of Psychic Types would have cost me my next fight, and then I would have trashed everything we’ve been waiting to do all season!”

  “You’re welcome!” Redi said cheerily, sitting up with a grin. “You can always count on me to snap you out of bad ideas! You’re not allowed to lose until we have our fight!”

  She didn't need to look so irritatingly smug when she said that.

  “If there’s a lesson here, then it’s one that’s inspired by the Ghost Type,” Sam said after taking a bit more time to think. “Ghosts are great at hiding, but more than anything else, they're great at landing scares.”

  He could have continued to hold his team members back and continued to effectively stay hidden from the competition, but the longer he “hid,” the more chances he had to be discovered and lose his opportunity.

  Like a Ghost Type, he needed to know when to strike, and he was starting to recognize that time was now.

  “If I’m going to stop holding back in the next round, I think I should go big,” Sam said slowly to himself.

  “What are you planning?” Redi asked.

  He didn’t answer. He just smiled.

  Redi was right; it was time for the big reveal. As much attention as a dripfeed of slow surprises could provide, it made more sense to strike with everything he had for the grandest scare possible.

  Despite all of his time spent training, he had no way to guarantee he’d make it into the next rounds. He needed to do something like this now before an unhappy elimination, and what better time to do it than against a truly difficult opponent?

  So, after only a bit more conversation, Sam came to his decision and came up with a plan. When his second match finally rolled around later today, he would bring everyone out, and he would reveal the true depths of his team to shock this side of the world.

  Unknown to most people—or at least only known to the more observant people around—officials from the Pokémon League had their own sealed box in which they could observe the main arena’s matches. One wall was nothing more than one-way glass that allowed the people inside to stare out without receiving any stares in return. And, just behind it, three rows of seats were set up to allow the people within to sit comfortably. In the back of the room, a muted television played the official Conference broadcast, and a long table was covered in snack foods free for anyone to take.

  When Morty stepped into that upper box, it was noisy. A small group of kids was pressed against the window, cheering their hearts out at the end of the previous match. Out of the five of them, two kids had been supporting one competitor, and another two had been supporting the other.

  But that was only four. The fifth was cheering, but his intentions were more subtle. While he was here with his friends on behalf of Azalea’s Gym, he also kept sending glances toward someone else sitting in the room.

  That’s... Bugsy, if I’m remembering correctly, Morty mused to himself as he closed the door behind him. I believe he’s been pushing for Azalea to have a single Gym Leader. Something about not wanting them to fall behind?

  There weren’t too many other people in the room. Not every Gym Leader and Elite came to the Conference to watch it in person. Morty knew that Chuck usually hosted an event alongside all of his Gym Trainers in Cianwood City, Jasmine was too shy to show up in person, Pryce refused to set foot on official League property unless utterly necessary, and Walker probably only paid the slightest bit of attention to the Conference via radio.

  Probably.

  Walker was still out there, somewhere. He had yet to return to his Gym after his last outing. Last Morty had heard, Walker still hadn’t shown up, and his son was still the de facto leader of Violet City’s Gym.

  Overall, that meant the total number of people in this room was small in number. Though Goldenrod City was hosting its own viewing event, Whitney was present here and was indulging in the free snacks set to the side. Morty himself was also present, of course, but he was the only other Gym Leader in the room. However, that didn’t mean he was the only other person.

  His shadow wasn’t stretching out as much as usual, and he brought his gaze over to the corner, where an old woman stood where she wouldn’t otherwise be immediately seen.

  His team hadn’t been reacting for a reason; they knew to not misbehave in Agatha’s presence.

  Morty sent a polite nod to that member of the Elite Four, but Agatha’s gaze remained firmly locked on the field below. He then tried to move to take a seat next to the same person Bugsy kept sending stares to. However, before he could reach where Champion Lance sat at the front, he was interrupted by someone else—one of the many people observing and taking notes on the Conference’s competitors.

  “Why, if it isn't Gym Leader Morty himself! With how crowded this room is becoming, it’s almost like we’re having a party!”

  Morty froze at the sudden greeting. Somehow, he had completely missed this man before his sudden presence at his side. He also did his best to suppress his double-take.

  He hadn’t expected one of the Conference’s observers to be so... colorfully dressed.

  “Call me Will, Psychic Type specialist extraordinaire!” the strangely dressed man said. “As you can tell, I’m assisting the Champion with his observations. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mortimer!”

  Morty chucked.

  “Do you mind if I just call you ‘Will?’ ‘Will, Psychic Type specialist extraordinaire,’ is a mouthful.”

  Will laughed.

  “That would be just fine, just fine! Preferred, in fact! It’d be difficult to hold a conversation if I required everyone to use all of my names at once!”

  Even with the mask that covered the upper half of his face, Will’s eyes glinted in amusement, and he turned back toward the field. Morty sent a glance to where Lance was seated at the very front, and he saw that the Champion was using a flat tray meant for food to continue going through his piles of paperwork.

  Morty had wanted to sit next to the Champion to see his reaction to this upcoming match, but with Lance so busy, he chose to silently sit in the furthest back row instead.

  “This next match involves quite the curious pair,” Will said, following Morty from behind but remaining standing. Below, the two trainers in the arena moved off to make room for the next battle. “A Psychic Type specialist against a Ghost Type specialist. One side with a supposed advantage—or perhaps not? There’s an interesting quirk shared between them, and I’ll note there’s an interesting number of observers present for this match as well.”

  When Morty looked up to check on Will behind him, he saw that the other man was staring back, practically begging for Morty to ask him to explain.

  “Alright. I’ll bite,” Morty said. “Care to explain?”

  Will threw his head back for a laugh. He struck a pose with a hand covering his face.

  “I’ve helped train both trainers down there!” he exclaimed. “And we haven’t had this many people in the room for any match yet! It’s curious—both you and Agatha are newcomers for this battle. Something about a trainer involved, perchance?”

  Will tapped his pen to his cheek as he sent a look to the corner. Hearing the revelation in the strange man’s words, Morty followed Will’s gaze.

  Agatha refused to acknowledge either of them.

  Her eyes remained solidly locked onto the field, but Morty could tell she was at least listening in. For some reason, she didn’t look as relaxed as usual. Her fingers were ever so slightly tense on the crown of her cane.

  If I’m right, she was the one who prevented Typhlosion’s evolution from being reported.

  Though curious about her motives, Morty returned to watching the empty field.

  “So you trained them, Will?” Whitney said with her mouth full, looking up from where she’d been stuffing her face with snacks while forcing herself to swallow her last bite. “If you’re an observer, isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

  “No, no. No conflict of interest here! I’m quite adept at remaining objective,” Will said, but his smile almost seemed to betray his words. “Both trainers below called in similar favors. The Ghostly one came to me more due to a coincidence than anything else, but the one so aligned with moi? Well. You’ll never guess what kind of help he wanted.”

  “Psychic Type help?” Whitney offered.

  “Help with countering super-effective moves, of course,” Will replied happily.

  An announcer’s voice echoed throughout the arena, coming from a pair of casters sitting in their own, smaller box set off to the side. Their words were muffled; color commentary wasn’t needed for the people in this room. But the muted television on the wall did display information on the upcoming competitors.

  Trainer Samuel versus Trainer Nelson.

  A Ghost Type specialist versus a Psychic Type specialist.

  It was yet another second-round match taking place on the main field, set so late in the day.

  And seeing that information, Morty sent a subtle glance to Agatha once more.

  Curious that this is happening on the main field. Did you put your finger on the scales for this too, Agatha?

  “Well! I’m certainly interested in the outcome of this match,” Will said, bringing his pen to his clipboard. “And I’m certainly interested in why you and Agatha both decided to grace us with your presence at once!”

  Will smiled curiously, but Morty stayed silent. When he didn’t answer, Will just shook his head with an exaggerated shrug, and all of his attention was brought back to the field.

  Mostly.

  “Now then. Before we begin, I’ll ask once again if anyone has any bets for this match,” Will announced while holding up his clipboard.

  “A hundred on the Psychic Trainer.”

  Morty was forced to shove back his disbelief when he realized it was the Champion himself who had spoken. Lance didn’t even blink—he didn’t even look up from his work—and Will wrote the Champion’s bet down.

  “Ten on the Psychic!”

  “Twenty on the Psychic guy!”

  “Fifteen on the Ghost!”

  Will furiously wrote down all of the numbers from the Azalea children as well. Whitney offered a small sum of her own, too.

  And then, from the corner, a single voice echoed out.

  “A thousand on the Ghost,” Agatha declared.

  The room went silent outside of Will’s scribbling, and when Morty turned around, Agatha looked just as unhappy as ever. It didn’t even seem like she had just spoken.

  But, for some reason, Morty got the strangest sense that he would have seen a smile if he had turned around ever so slightly faster.

  “I’ll match Lance’s bet but on Sa— the Ghost Type Trainer,” Morty said, quickly correcting himself halfway through.

  Will smiled at the slip-up but still wrote Morty’s bet down.

  Enough time had passed that the two trainers below had already moved up to the field, and the referee was in the process of restating the rules.

  This match would consist of four Pokémon, with trainers having access to five switches each.

  Everything was standard, as expected, and when the announcements finished, a pair of Pokéballs were tossed into the air. Two Pokémon were released onto the field.

  A clatter came from the front of the room.

  “What Pokémon is that?” Lance said, shooting up from his seat and knocking his papers to the ground.

  His voice was serious. Surprised. Commanding.

  Nervous, Morty laughed.

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

  “It’s a Ghost Type,” Agatha said for him.

  With Lance’s sudden alertness, the room became dead silent. The Champion’s eyes did not leave the serpentine Pokémon floating across from a gesturing Mr. Mime.

  Eventually, Lance whispered one thing.

  “No. It’s a Dragon.”

  And Morty shifted around in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

  Turned out, Sam had more surprises in his pocket than Morty would have thought.

  Sam’s preferred lead is Typhlosion, but he can’t just reveal her off the bat like that. He’s trying to win, but given his plans, he needs to involve a bit of showmanship, too.

  Sam’s Team:

  Badges Earned: 8 (Mineral, Fog, Plain, Hive, Zephyr, Rising, Glacier, Storm)

  Approximate Team Strength: 8 Stars

  (Fire / Ghost Type, Female, Timid Nature +Spe/-Atk)

  Abilities: Blaze

  Held Item: Charcoal

  Moves: Tackle, Leer, Smokescreen, Ember, Flame Wheel, Curse, Will-O-Wisp, Incinerate, Detect, Quick Attack, Swift, Flame Charge, Flamethrower, Double Team, Infernal Parade, Confuse Ray, Hex, Shadow Ball, Night Shade, Shadow Claw, Agility, Blast Burn

  (Fighting / Ghost Type, Male, Impish Nature +Def/-SpA)

  Abilities: Vital Spirit

  Moves: Scratch, Leer, Low Kick, Karate Chop, Fury Swipes, Assurance, Ice Punch, Fire Punch, Cross Chop, Curse, Brick Break, Rock Smash, Rock Slide, Bulk Up, Rage, Rage Fist, Close Combat

  (Ghost / Poison Type, Male, Naive Nature +Spe/-SpD)

  Abilities: n/a

  Moves: Hypnosis, Lick, Confuse Ray, Spite, Mean Look, Hex, Shadow Punch, Night Shade, Acid Spray, Ominous Wind, Shadow Ball, Dream Eater, Nightmare, Curse

  Mismagius (Ghost Type, Female, Hasty Nature +Spe/-Def)

  Pokéball: Friend Ball

  Abilities: Levitate

  Moves: Growl, Psywave, Astonish, Confusion, Confuse Ray, Mean Look, Night Shade, Shadow Sneak, Shadow Ball, Nasty Plot, Psybeam, Will-O-Wisp, Psychic, Hex, Power Gem, Pain Split

  Trevenant (Ghost / Grass Type, Male, Quiet Nature +SpA/-Spe)

  Pokéball: Moon Ball

  Abilities: Harvest, Frisk (Developing)

  Held Item: Sitrus Berry

  Moves: Horn Leech, Tackle, Confuse Ray, Astonish, Growth, Ingrain, Leech Seed, Forest’s Curse, Shadow Claw, Phantom Force, Protect

  Drakloak (Dragon / Ghost Type, Female, Serious Nature, +-n/a)

  Pokéball: n/a

  Abilities: Infiltrator (Developing)

  Moves: Astonish, Infestation, Quick Attack, Bite, Lock-On, Agility, Double Hit, U-Turn, Phantom Force, Take Down, Dragon Pulse

  Dreepy (Dragon / Ghost Type, Male, Rash Nature, +SpA/-SpD) [Partnered with Drakloak]

  Pokéball: n/a

  Abilities: Clear Body (Developing)

  Moves: Astonish, Infestation, Quick Attack, Bite

  Auxiliary Pokémon: A gathering of , a handful of

  At Home (non-battlers): ,

  At Carl’s Ranch: (more than twenty), (Annihilape’s brother)

  Pokémon (and people) included in this chapter:

  Dragonair

  Agatha

  huge thank you to everyone reading! Your support keeps this story going.