This Gible... Silas thought, a wild theory taking shape in his mind. Could it be the juvenile form of that Garchomp I was modifying right before... everything happened?
It wasn't just the Pokémon that had crossed over with him. As he focused, he felt a new presence settle into his consciousness, something familiar yet fundamentally changed. The Pokémon editor he had used in his old life had come with him, integrating into his very being as the kind of cheat system every transmigrator supposedly gets.
This is the standard playbook, right? he mused. As an avid internet surfer, he knew all the classic isekai tropes.
With a slight mental command, a user interface materialized in his mind's eye.
[Pokémon Editor (Trial Version V9.0.2)]
[Function: Pokémon Analysis] - ACTIVE
[Function: Learn Skills & Moves] - ACTIVE
[Function: Effort Value Training] - (Module missing. Temporarily unavailable.)
Function: Ability Modification] - (Module missing. Temporarily unavailable.)
[Function: Base Stat Correction] - (Module missing. Temporarily unavailable.)
[Function: IV Enhancement] - (Module missing. Temporarily unavailable.)
Silas's brief excitement fizzled out. "Are you kidding me? This whole system is a broken demo?!"
His first instinct was to blame Game Freak for their shoddy work, but he quickly corrected himself. This editor was a bootleg product he'd gotten from an online marketplace, a piece of illegal software to begin with. He couldn't really ask for too much.
Okay, okay, he sighed. My bad, Game Freak.
If you could travel to a world where Pokémon were your daily companions, what would you do?
Silas had seriously considered the question before, in the way one idly plans for a zombie apocalypse. It was a delusional fantasy, a classic case of main character syndrome. But he had imagined it: catching beautiful and cute Pokémon like Gardevoir, Lopunny, Serperior, or Sylveon. A Reshiram would be the ultimate prize. Then, he would just live out a peaceful, ordinary life.
Of course, if one actually managed to partner with the legendary white dragon Reshiram, one's life would likely be anything but "ordinary."
When it came down to it, Silas knew he was a hedonist at heart. Life was short—thirty thousand days, give or take. Why live it on hard mode? A comfortable, happy existence was the goal. And in the Pokémon world, a life of "lying down" and taking it easy should be simple, far less of a grind than his original world.
But now...
He didn't just have a Gible that knew Dragon Dance. He had a literal cheat system baked into his soul. If he did nothing with these gifts, what would he be? A slacker? A salted fish with no ambition?
How many times had he read stories or watched shows and thought, 'If I had that power, I would do so much more with it!'
Well, now he was in that very situation. He had been given all the tools to become a top-tier Pokémon trainer. An incredible foundation. A "Late Bloomer" Pokémon with a hacked, custom moveset.
His choice, of course, was to—
First, I should probably order some takeout.
No, focus.
"First, I'll try to become a great Pokémon trainer," he decided, a new resolve hardening in his chest. "If I fail, it's not too late to just lie down and give up then."
If he gave it his all and still fell short, he would have no regrets. No one could criticize him for trying his best. But to not even try? To give up from the start? He would never be able to respect himself. He hated the pretentious tropes of reborn protagonists lamenting their own power. 'Oh, I really don't want to be a trainer.' 'Who wants to fall in love after being reborn?' It was all so disingenuous.
If you want something, you have to work for it.
"Gible," Silas said, the corners of his mouth lifting into a bright, healing smile. He squatted down, stretching a hand out to his new partner. "Looks like we're in this together. Let's do our best."
"Gib..." Gible's eyes were still adorably dull. It tilted its head, then lifted one of its fins and placed it in its trainer's hand.
Then, it promptly chomped down.
The move 'Bite'! Silas thought, his eye twitching. He quickly pulled his hand free and gave the Gible a light bop on the head. "You little monster! Your trainer is not a chew toy."
"Gib~..." Gible lowered its arms, looking aggrieved. It was just so hungry. As if on cue, a loud growl echoed from its tiny stomach.
The appetite of a 'Late Bloomer' Pokémon in its growth stage was notoriously strong. Pokémon with powerful physiques required far more energy than ordinary species. As a pseudo-legendary, the Larvitar line was a prime example; a young Larvitar needed to eat a mountain's worth of minerals just to evolve into a Pupitar.
By comparison, raising a Gible was relatively cheap.
"Let's see if the old me left any Pokémon food or Pokéblocks in his luggage," Silas said, mostly to soothe the grumpy Gible. He began searching the dorm room.
He found nothing. No kibble, no high-energy cubes, not even a single berry. It was clear now: the Silas of this world had no initial partner and no intention of ever becoming a trainer.
"Oh no," he groaned. "I didn't think there'd really be nothing. Should I... go borrow some of Leo's Yamper food?"
He immediately winced at the thought. While standard Pokémon feed was universal, like cat or dog food, it felt wrong. It was too shabby, too undignified, to borrow food for your very first partner on your very first day. There was a principle at stake here, a belief held by all serious trainers.
"No matter how poor you are, you can't be poor in nurturing," he said aloud, the words cementing his decision. "No matter how hard it gets, you can't let your own Pokémon suffer."
With his mind made up, Silas took his first step toward becoming a qualified Pokémon trainer.
"Alright," he announced to the room, pulling out his phone. "I'm going to order you some proper food from an online superstore. But until it gets here, you'll have to make do with this."
He grabbed a cheap, plastic-wrapped sausage from a multipack on his desk—the kind of highly processed food that was a staple of broke college students everywhere. Tearing open the wrapper, he tossed it to his Gible.
His philosophy was simple: what he ate, his Pokémon ate. Fair is fair, right?
"Gib-Gib~"
Gible, showing no signs of being a picky eater, inhaled the offering in one go—sausage, plastic wrapper, and the little metal ring at the end all disappeared into its cavernous mouth.
Silas fell silent, watching the scene with a mixture of awe and terror.
Right. Gible were known for having stomachs like black holes. He remembered Ash's Gible from the anime, which once tried to eat an entire Team Rocket mecha. He suddenly felt a phantom pain in his arm. He'd been smart to pull his hand back earlier. If Gible had latched on with that bite, he might have started his new life with a dramatic injury, like Red-Haired Shanks from One Piece losing his arm to a sea monster.
He could already picture himself trying to stop a legendary battle. "Groudon, Kyogre, for my sake, please give me some face!"
Shaking off the absurd thought, he fed a few more sausages to the appreciative Gible. As he held the last one, a horrifying question surfaced in his mind.
Wait a second... what are the raw materials for ham sausage in the Pokémon world?
In his old world, it was pork, chicken, starch, and a laundry list of additives. He knew that. But here? The question was so deeply unsettling he didn't dare think about it too hard. Was it all just starch? Or was the "meat" some kind of synthetic protein?
He decided, for his own sanity, to assume it was starch and leave it at that.
The next morning, a cheerful "Deli-deli~!" announced a new arrival. A red-and-white Pokémon that looked like a penguin dressed as Santa Claus landed on his dorm room balcony. It was a Delibird, the Delivery Pokémon.
It presented him with a package held in what looked like a large sack but was, in fact, its own hollow tail. The world of Pokémon was truly magical.
This innate trait made Delibird natural couriers. With the decline of paper mail, most were now professionally trained for parcel and food delivery services. They were just one part of the vast Pokémon workforce. There were Corviknight operating ride-sharing taxi services, their flight paths high and steady. There were Machoke and Machamp, with their incredible strength, working for moving companies. And then there were Pokémon like Conkeldurr, whose line was practically born on construction sites, their grit and power honed by a life of labor.
With Pokémon filling so many difficult jobs, human productivity had been liberated. The average quality of life was significantly higher here, a perfect example of the economic base determining the superstructure—a truth in any world.
"Deli-deli~!" the little penguin saluted awkwardly, indicating the delivery from the online store was complete.
"Thank you for your hard work, Delibird," Silas said with a genuine smile.
Although Delibird wasn't known for its battle prowess, Silas knew that in the hands of the right trainer, any Pokémon could be a threat. He firmly believed that with enough training—say, two and a half years of intense singing, dancing, and rap—even a Delibird could evolve into a powerhouse Paradox Pokémon like Iron Bundle, silencing all the haters.
With its mission accomplished, the Delibird chirped once more and flew off to its next delivery. Silas immediately opened the package. Inside was a carton of Moomoo Milk from the Miltank Dairy and a large bag of medium-quality, all-purpose Pokémon feed. After stacking all the new-user coupons, it was the best value he could find. High-grade, species-specific energy blocks were far too expensive; a single bag would wipe out his entire month's living expenses. For now, this was the best he could provide.
"Gib~"
The scent of milk and food wafted into the room. Gible, whose senses were keenly tuned to the aroma of anything edible, poked its head around the doorframe.
"Drink, Gible," Silas declared, pouring the Moomoo Milk into a bowl and adding a scoop of feed. "This is your destiny."
He watched as his new partner devoured the meal. This was it. This was the start. He was going to pour everything into raising this special Gible, a creature that could naturally use Dragon Dance. Its future was limitless. This Gible would carry the hopes of every Garchomp that came before it and forge a new legend.
Because no other Garchomp could learn Dragon Dance. That was the cruel curse placed upon its entire species.
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