Unown was an extraordinarily unique Pokémon.
It knew only one move—Hidden Power. Nothing more. No secondary attacks. No defensive techniques. No strategic variety. Its entire battle identity revolved around a single, unstable expression of energy.
From a purely combat-oriented perspective, a lone Unown had almost no practical value. Its base stats were unimpressive. Its movepool was nonexistent. Its battlefield presence was negligible. Even if captured, it would rarely be used in serious combat. At most, it might serve as a collector's novelty or an academic specimen.
And yet—
Unown was anything but ordinary.
It thrived in environments where most Pokémon could not survive.
Ancient ruins buried beneath shifting sands.
Vacuum-like voids devoid of atmosphere.
Blistering deserts where life withered.
Even regions rumored to brush against outer space itself.
They endured where others perished.
Gary had long suspected that Unown was connected to something far greater—perhaps even to Arceus. In certain fragmented historical records, Unown were described not as creatures, but as symbols. Cosmic script. A living language of creation.
If arranged in precise sequences—if aligned into meaningful formations—they could supposedly resonate with universal energy itself.
The ancients had uncovered fragments of this truth. Those who deciphered Unown's patterns were later remembered as wizards, sages, or magicians. Their rituals, powered by unknown energy, shaped early civilization.
Some Pokémon were said to have been created through mystical techniques inspired by Unown's principles.
Baltoy.
Golett.
Artificial constructs animated by ritual geometry and controlled energy flow.
Whether myth or history, the pattern was undeniable—Unown represented something fundamental.
Gary had no immediate need for them.
But he made a mental note.
When time permitted, he would study them thoroughly.
For now, practicality took priority.
Gary located an open training field outside the city limits and released every Pokémon currently in his party.
Garchomp landed heavily, sand scattering beneath its claws.
Tyranitar emerged with a low rumble, its presence pressing against the air itself.
Darkrai hovered silently, shadows pooling around its form.
Cresselia was absent, but the rest of his core team stood ready.
"Listen carefully," Gary said calmly. "This move is called Hidden Power."
He began teaching them one by one using the permanent TM.
Each Pokémon absorbed the move differently. The energy shimmered uniquely, shaped by their internal attributes and natural affinities.
"Garchomp."
"Garchomp!"
A faint, pale ripple gathered around its claws, flickering like contained lightning before dispersing.
"Tyranitar."
"GRAAAH!"
Dark violet energy pulsed outward, unstable for a brief moment before settling into controlled resonance.
"Darkrai."
"Dak…"
A shadowed wave condensed in the air, its texture dense and undefined. Under Gary's guidance, it stabilized, forming a steady, contained sphere of obscure energy.
Hidden Power did not need overwhelming strength.
It needed precision.
It needed resonance.
"This move isn't for offense," Gary explained evenly. "If Hunter J appears and petrifies any of you, this is the countermeasure. Use Hidden Power on the affected Pokémon. Do not panic. Do not hesitate."
His tone carried quiet authority.
The team responded with firm acknowledgment.
Gary finally felt reassured.
Now, even if Hunter J attacked again, he was prepared.
The immediate threat had been addressed.
"It's time to challenge the remaining facilities," he said.
There was still a substantial gap before Hunter J targeted the Lake Guardians. Gary intended to use that time efficiently.
The Sinnoh Battle Frontier still had several facilities left.
Battle Factory was complete.
Battle Tower would be reserved for last. It was the strongest facility in the Sinnoh Frontier, and Gary preferred to challenge it at peak condition.
Next—
Veilstone City.
The Battle Hall was located nearby.
Its Frontier Brain was a woman named Dahlia.
Two and a Half Hours Later
Gary arrived in Veilstone City.
The streets were busy, merchants calling out promotions, Trainers moving in groups, and battle enthusiasts discussing strategies outside the city's famous Game Corner.
He checked the time.
Past 10 a.m.
If he challenged immediately, the Frontier Brain would likely be unavailable or on break.
Gary decided to eat first.
A proper meal. A short rest. Then he would initiate the challenge at precisely 2 p.m.
The Battle Hall stood just outside the city proper.
From above, the structure was circular and brightly colored, almost whimsical in design. Large decorative Pokémon figures lined the exterior walls, arranged in a pattern resembling a spinning wheel.
It looked less like a serious battle facility and more like an amusement attraction.
Gary approached the entrance.
The glass doors slid open automatically.
Motion sensors.
Dahlia clearly appreciated modern systems.
He stepped inside.
The interior was vibrant and energetic. Young Trainers crowded the space. Some laughed excitedly. Others groaned in frustration. Several argued animatedly about strategy.
The atmosphere was competitive—but playful.
A few people glanced at Gary.
Seeing someone around their age, most quickly lost interest. A handful of young women continued to look at him curiously, whispering among themselves.
Gary ignored the attention and walked to the counter.
Before he could speak, the receptionist offered a bright smile.
"Would you like to participate in a roulette battle?"
Gary blinked once.
"What's a roulette battle?"
"It's a special competition format," she explained. "You pay 500 PokéDollars to enter. If you win, you earn one point. Points can be exchanged for various rewards."
Gary's gaze sharpened slightly.
Business model.
"May I see the rewards?"
"Of course."
She gestured toward a suspended display screen.
Gary scanned it carefully.
Healing items.
Battle-enhancing tools.
Technical Machines.
The lowest-cost TM required 50 points.
One victory equaled one point.
That meant fifty consecutive wins for a basic TM.
At 500 per entry, that totaled 25,000 PokéDollars.
Higher-tier TMs required 60 points or more.
In theory, a strong Trainer could farm wins and obtain TMs at reduced cost.
But—
Gary narrowed his eyes.
"If a powerful Trainer participates," he asked calmly, "wouldn't they simply win consistently?"
The receptionist smiled knowingly.
"The roulette has special mechanics."
"What kind?"
"At the start of each battle, the roulette wheel spins."
She pointed upward.
A large decorative wheel hung above the battlefield, segmented into numerous colorful options.
"It includes outcomes such as status conditions, weather changes, forced Pokémon exchange… and instant victory."
Gary's expression hardened.
"Explain."
"If the roulette lands on 'exchange Pokémon,' both Trainers must swap Pokémon before the battle begins."
So a Trainer might be forced to use the opponent's Pokémon.
Interesting.
"And 'instant victory'?"
"The selected side wins immediately."
"And status conditions?"
"Both Pokémon begin the battle afflicted."
Gary understood instantly.
This system injected randomness.
Even Elite-level Trainers could lose if the roulette produced unfavorable conditions.
Achieving fifty consecutive wins would be extremely difficult.
From a financial perspective, the design was brilliant.
Even if someone eventually redeemed a TM, the cumulative entry fees from countless failed challengers would compensate for the cost.
It was gambling disguised as structured competition.
Very Veilstone.
The city's Game Corner operated on similar principles.
"Would you like to participate?" the receptionist asked politely.
"No."
Gary's answer was immediate.
"I'm here to challenge the Frontier Brain."
She paused.
"That requires qualification."
"I'm Gary. Mr. Scott recommended me."
She quickly accessed her system.
Her expression shifted.
"Oh… yes. You're authorized."
A hint of embarrassment crossed her face.
"Please wait while I inform Leader Dahlia."
Gary nodded calmly and stepped aside, taking a seat near the arena.
Above him, the roulette wheel spun again.
Click. Click. Click.
It slowed—
Cheers erupted from one side of the battlefield.
Groans followed from the other.
A Trainer's Pokémon had apparently been swapped at the start, completely reversing the anticipated outcome.
Gary watched quietly.
Randomized battle conditions.
Unpredictable elements.
Weather manipulation.
Status disruptions.
Forced exchanges.
This was not a test of raw power.
It was a test of adaptability.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Adjust to randomness.
Control what can be controlled.
Minimize exposure to risk.
Preparation would determine everything.
A staff member approached respectfully.
"Leader Dahlia will arrive shortly."
Gary opened his eyes.
"Understood."