"Congratulations, Trainer! You can take Ralts to make the payment."
"In addition, all Trainers who obtain a Ralts or Gible today will receive my exclusive Gardevoir and Garchomp Breeding Guide, as well as a custom-made ration pack designed for their dietary needs."
"Now, let's bring out the second Ralts of the day!"
Fifteen minutes later, all nine Ralts had been sold, raking in a staggering 680 million—more than double the last auction's earnings. Among them, the 3V Ralts had been the showstopper, but even the two 2V Ralts had fetched a hefty one billion each. Clearly, high-IV Ralts were a gold mine.
With the Ralts sales concluded, the excitement in the room surged as the auction's grand finale approached—the highly anticipated Gible.
"And now, it's time for our main event!" John gestured dramatically toward the stage.
The small, stocky dragon waddled forward with short, determined strides, its sharp gaze scanning the audience. As it took center stage, its stats were projected onto the large white screen behind it.
[Gible (Dragon/Ground)]
[Ability: Sand Veil (Boosts evasion by 20% in a sandstorm and negates HP loss from sandstorm damage.)]
[IVs: HP (21), Attack (31), Special Attack (10), Defense (31), Special Defense (20), Speed (15)]
[Moves: Sand Tomb, Sand Attack, Dragon Breath, Bulldoze, Bite]
John beamed. "A Gible with Sand Veil, perfect attack and defense IVs—do I even need to explain its value?"
The audience murmured in awe. Garchomp thrived on high attack stats, so an attack-perfect Gible was a future powerhouse. Add in its maxed-out defense? It was practically a Close Combat specialist in the making.
A wave of eager whispers spread through the crowd.
"For such an exceptional Gible, I'm setting the price at three billion!" John declared.
Silence fell over the auditorium.
Was it expensive? Absolutely.
But could anyone deny its worth? Not a chance.
For context, the 3V Ralts had sold for just 300 million. This was ten times the price for a 2V Gible. And yet... nobody spoke against it. The dragon-quasi-legendary market was already sky-high, with the average price floating around 500 million. Even Ralts, typically valued at 15 million, had sold for exponentially more today.
"If this price isn't for you," John said, "feel free to take a seat in the back."
Sure enough, over a hundred attendees stood up and exited. Not all of them were uninterested—many simply couldn't afford it. After all, spending three billion on a single Pokemon was a luxury only the wealthiest Trainers could indulge in.
Despite the departures, more than two hundred people remained, eyes locked on the Gible.
John, unfazed, gave Gible a small nod. "Go ahead. Choose your Trainer."
Gible sniffed the air, looking around. Unlike Ralts, it had no psychic ability to sense emotions. Its method of selection? Pure instinct.
Then, without hesitation, it trotted forward and chomped down on the head of a teenager in the front row—who just so happened to be mid-bite into a large order of French fries.
The security team moved in, ready to pry Gible off, but John held up a hand to stop them, laughing.
"Congratulations, sir! Gible has chosen you!" he announced. "Biting is just how it shows affection. You'd better get used to it because it's going to be doing that a lot—at least until it evolves into Gabite."
The teenager sat frozen, face contorted in shock. Not because Gible had picked him—he had been mentally preparing for that possibility—but because it had bitten his head.
Only after John's explanation did he snap out of it. "Uh... so can I, you know, take it off?" he asked hesitantly.
John chuckled. "Of course. If it really wanted to bite down hard, do you think your head would still be in one piece?"
The realization dawned on him, and he carefully lifted Gible from his head. Once freed, he let out a breath of relief—only for excitement to rush in and replace it immediately.
This wasn't just a solid team member—it was a future ace! Pure, dumb luck had landed him a Pokemon with the potential to dominate.
The surrounding audience murmured enviously. With over two hundred contestants, the odds had been brutal. And yet, he had won the jackpot.
"Sir, please proceed to payment for Gible," John reminded him.
"And with that," he continued, "today's Pokemon-Trainer matchmaking event has officially concluded!"
A wave of applause filled the hall.
"One final announcement!" John added. "Mid-month, right here, we'll be auctioning off the following Pokemon: two 2V Growlithes, three 2V Ralts, four 2V Arons, and—brace yourselves—one 1V Bagon!"
A ripple of excitement spread through the crowd at the mention of Bagon. Many immediately made mental notes to attend the next auction.
John stepped off the stage, satisfied.
Waiting for him just below was a tall woman dressed in a sharp silver suit, gold-rimmed glasses resting on her nose.
This was Emerald, a professional attorney and the woman Azure had personally recommended to him. With a name like that, John had immediately pegged her as a member of the esteemed Lin family. And he had been right—though she wasn't a direct cousin of Azure or Scarlett, but their niece. Unlike them, she hadn't pursued the path of a Trainer. Instead, she had attended one of the top non-Pokemon universities, building expertise in ranching, breeding operations, and finance.
She was the one who had designed the new official website and streamlined the screening process for auctions.
John had been impressed enough to bring her on as both a consultant and an assistant. With his busy schedule, having someone manage the breeding house, gym, and ranch in his absence was invaluable.
"Master," Emerald said, stepping forward. "The military has arrived."