"It looks good—I could have one, to train." Gary looked at the Cyclizar on the shop's display screen, a gleaming ride Pokémon coiled like a ready dragon. Seeing it zip effortlessly through open fields made him pause.
A cheerful clerk noticed the interest on Gary's face and stepped forward. "Young man, interested in buying a Cyclizar?" he asked eagerly. "We've got a few left that match your style."
Gary smiled faintly. "Just looking."
"Come in and take a look," the clerk insisted politely. "We let customers test‑ride the Cyclizar first. If you're not satisfied, you don't have to buy."
Before long, Gary found himself inside the shop. Dozens of Cyclizar lounged under bright lighting, each idly flexing or stretching its long legs as their tails coiled like wheels.
Each one bore a small embossed tag on its flank reading Lightning Cyclizar Co.—a sign that it came from this official breeder. The clerk straightened his hat proudly. "All Cyclizar here are guaranteed for top stability and temperament. Our breeder even supplies the League's professional racers."
Gary ran a hand along the flank of one Cyclizar. Its scales were smooth, warm to the touch, and faintly luminous under the store lights. The Pokémon tilted its head and gave a cheerful "Cy‑cliii~zaaaar!", nudging his arm with friendly curiosity.
"They're pretty sociable, huh?" Gary said, smiling.
"They have to be," the clerk replied. "Since Cyclizar serve both as mounts and partners, we only sell gentle, human‑trained individuals. Even lower‑grade ones perform above average speed for standard Elite‑level Pokémon."
"Not bad," Gary murmured.
The clerk grinned. "These household Cyclizar can travel at sixty kilometers per hour safely. We even include riding gear and issue a three‑year warranty. If your Cyclizar has any technical issue or safe‑riding malfunction within that period, we'll replace it."
Gary blinked. "That's… exactly like buying a car."
"Sort of," the clerk said with a laugh. "You'll still need a riding license and basic insurance, though."
"I'm actually from another region," Gary admitted. "Is that a problem?"
"Not at all," the clerk assured him. "As long as your Trainer ID is valid and any accident documentation identifies Cyclizar as at fault, the warranty still applies."
Gary chuckled. "You're really confident in your customer service. You almost hope for an accident."
The clerk only grinned wider. "It shows how reliable they are."
Gary scanned the rows of Pokémon again. "Got anything faster? Something that can hit one‑twenty kilometers an hour without shaking itself apart?"
The clerk nodded. "Our highest‑end racing Cyclizar can reach that speed. Almost any adult one can, though at such velocity they become tricky to control. We usually discourage untrained riders from pushing the limit—it's easy to skid and crash."
"I'll manage," Gary said simply.
The clerk blinked, clearly unconvinced. "Young man, you aren't a licensed race rider, are you?"
Gary shook his head. "No. Trainer."
"Then why not go for a standard model? Racing classes are built for competition speeds. Between traffic and narrow streets, you couldn't race here anyway."
Gary smiled faintly. "I'm a traveling Trainer. What I need is range, not traffic regulations."
The shopkeeper nodded thoughtfully. "Fair point." He gestured for Gary to follow toward another pen deeper in the showroom.
"This one," the clerk said, patting a lime‑green Cyclizar with sleek ridges from nose to tail. "Perfect for long‑distance travel."
"Cy‑clii~zar!" it chirped, eyes bright. The Pokémon lowered itself automatically, as if inviting Gary to climb on.
Gary tilted his head. "That's… surprisingly polite."
The breeder, who had been listening nearby, chuckled. "Cyclizar are like that. They enjoy warmth—specifically human body heat. They'll often lie down and beckon you to sit because they can help regulate temperature that way. It's part instinct, part habit."
Gary nodded. "That explains a lot."
He kneeled to inspect it further. A digital training tag on its bridle flickered:
[Lv. 30 Cyclizar ♂ / Gym Potential]
"Gym‑level stats, huh?" Gary mused. "Decent strength, good for travel and quick bursts. Maybe not a fighter, but reliable transport."
He stood up. "Got anything with slightly higher potential?"
The clerk scratched his chin. "We do, but they become much pricier. And a warning—our Cyclizar are sold strictly as partners and vehicles, not for battle. If you use one in combat and it gets hurt, warranty's void."
Gary chuckled. "Understood. I'm not planning to take it into the League. Just need a dependable ride."
The clerk nodded and waved him closer. "Then take a look at this one in our private bay. It's… special."
He vanished into the back room and returned moments later with a Poké Ball. "Here—see for yourself."
With a click, a blinding white light burst across the room.
Out stepped another Cyclizar—but not the usual jade‑green shade. This one gleamed with brassy gold scales, like polished metal under sunlight. Its eyes glowed a deep amber, and the faint hum of energy rolled through the air.
Gary's brows shot up. "A shiny Cyclizar!"
"Cy‑cli~zaaar!" the golden Pokémon called proudly, flicking its tail like a gleaming wheel. Shoppers in other aisles turned to stare.
"Indeed," said the clerk, clearly proud. "This one's a rare coloration, hatched from the personal breeding line of our boss. Only one in a thousand inherits this hue. It's priced accordingly."
"How accordingly?" Gary asked warily.
"Two million PokéDollars."
Gary blinked. "Two million? For a ride Pokémon?"
"This Cyclizar's potential is higher grade," the clerk explained quickly. "It's not much stronger than the others, but collectors pay premium for exceptional coloration."
Gary bent to meet the Pokémon's eyes. "Well, at least you look like you understand the price tag."
The shiny Cyclizar chirped softly, leaning its head against his hand. "Cyy‑cli!"
Gary smiled faintly. "Friendly too, huh? Fine by me."
He straightened. "Alright, I'll take it."
"You're serious?!" the clerk stammered.
"Completely." Gary reached for his card. "Go ahead—ring it up."
The clerk nearly tripped over himself rushing back to the counter. Within minutes the transaction was approved, and the Poké Ball was presented to Gary with both hands.