While the quiet, charged atmosphere between Sieg and Chloé lingered in that private corridor, the mood inside Chansey's banquet hall was an entirely different world. Nearly every person present was buzzing with anticipation, attention fixed on the upcoming tournament with a barely contained eagerness that had been building since Serena's announcement. The reason was not hard to understand. Five thousand Pokédollars simply for showing up and competing, regardless of how far you advanced, was the kind of offer that sharpened everyone's interest. When you considered that even the cheapest cabin aboard the Chansey had run upward of ten thousand Pokédollars, the consolation prize alone represented a substantial return on the investment of just walking onto the field.
Sieg was no exception to that collective energy, though his reasons ran considerably deeper than the consolation prize. Performing well in front of Serena was one consideration, certainly, but what truly had his attention were those three TMs. Earthquake, Stone Edge, and Stealth Rock. Each one individually carried a market value of no less than one million Pokédollars, and each one was the kind of commodity that almost never appeared through normal channels. They were the definition of priceless in the truest sense of the word, not overpriced, but simply unavailable. Put all three together and their combined worth approached five million Pokédollars under normal circumstances. On an open auction floor, with competitive bidders driving the price upward, that figure could climb considerably higher.
Beyond the top three prizes, the rewards for finishing between fourth and tenth place were nothing to dismiss either, ranging from rare TMs to Pokédollars payouts between one hundred thousand and three hundred thousand.
In less than half an hour, the banquet hall surged back to life as several of Serena's attendants moved through the room posting the official tournament rules and prize breakdown on every available display. Every screen aboard the Chansey cycled through the details on a continuous loop. For what had been organized on essentially no notice, the production was genuinely impressive. By the standards of properly scheduled minor league competitions held in actual venues, this improvised tournament would have held its own without embarrassment.
The prize structure was laid out clearly. First through third place would each select one TM from the top-tier pool, Earthquake, Stone Edge, and Stealth Rock, with the first-place finisher having first pick, followed by second and third in order. Fourth place would receive an Ice Beam TM. Fifth place would take home a [Signal Beam] TM. Sixth through tenth place would receive Pokédollar prizes ranging from one hundred thousand to three hundred thousand, depending on placement.
The total value of prizes, when added together, approached seven million Pokédollars. Factoring in the consolation awards distributed to every participant, the full cost of the tournament almost certainly crossed ten million. And that was before accounting for the supplementary expenses, the largest of which Serena had already addressed directly, with a note that any Pokémon injured during competition would receive full medical treatment in the ship's onboard clinic at no additional cost to the trainer.
"When you have that kind of money, I suppose," Sieg murmured to himself, his tone somewhere between admiration and dry amusement.
He turned aside a second approach from a minor family representative attempting to strike up a conversation and directed his attention back to the posted rules.
Given that the passenger list represented an extremely wide range of trainer ability, seasoned veterans alongside people who had never seriously competed, and family members who had simply tagged along for the voyage rather than for any interest in battling, the tournament had been divided into a qualifying round and a main bracket, ensuring that the serious competition was filtered through before the main event began.
In the interests of fairness and general watchability, the entire tournament would operate under a single-Pokémon rule, with one additional restriction: Elite-rank Pokémon were prohibited from participating.
It was that second rule that brought the quiet scene unfolding in Serena's private suite into sharp focus.
Serena was settled comfortably in her chair, watching her granddaughter with the particular fond exasperation of a woman who had seen everything and could still be surprised by the people she loved most.
"Honestly, Chloé," she said, her voice carrying the warmth of someone who was not actually displeased in the slightest. "Was it really necessary to go that far for your young man? Slipping in a rule specifically banning Elite-rank Pokémon."
Because that was precisely what had happened. The no-Elite-rank rule had been Chloé's personal addition, pushed through with enough insistence that it had made it into the final posted regulations. Her reasoning was not difficult to follow. Sieg was young, notably so compared to many of the experienced trainers aboard, and whatever his other advantages, raw years of competitive experience were not something he could manufacture. Removing the possibility of Elite-rank Pokémon from the field quietly leveled the playing field in a way that happened to benefit him considerably.
Chloé, currently attached to her grandmother's arm, did her best to project an expression of complete innocence. "I was thinking of your budget, actually. Elite-rank battles tend to cause serious damage to the arena. The repair costs alone would have been enormous."
Serena gave her a look that communicated, without a single word, exactly how convincing she found that explanation.
Still. What could you do with a granddaughter like this except indulge her?
She reached to the table beside her and slid a folder across the surface, a compiled profile she had requested on Sieg. "In any case, you did not need to go to that trouble. The boy has genuine ability. Arguably on par with his Breeding credentials, which is saying something."
Chloé picked up the folder with curious hands. Background investigations like this were completely standard practice within a family of their scale. She had grown up surrounded by that reality and felt no particular surprise at seeing one conducted on someone she knew. What did surprise her was what the file actually contained.
Her lips parted.
"This... this says Elite-rank. He has an Elite-rank Pokémon?"
The entry was unambiguous. [Crawdaunt] had broken through to Elite-rank, and there was a secondary notation indicating that Sharpedo had likely followed. The intelligence was somewhat dated by now, which in its own way demonstrated the reach and depth of the Joy family's information network; they had caught up to that development even with the time lag.
Beyond those two entries, the file contained partial records on Sieg's other Pokémon as well: Umbreon, Honchkrow, and Sandile were each noted to varying degrees.
Chloé set the folder down slowly, something quietly resolute settling into her expression.
"I had no idea he had come that far," she said, almost to herself. Then, with a decisiveness that surprised even her a little, "Then I cannot fall behind either. I need to work harder. If he is putting in that kind of effort, I will match it."
Serena watched her granddaughter's expression shift into something firm and determined, and said nothing for a moment.
"Grandmother." Chloé's voice softened, and her question trailed off before it fully formed, but the faint color rising in her cheeks said everything the words did not.
Serena looked at her with an expression caught between affection and mild suffering. Then she sighed. "Once the tournament is finished, bring him to the conference room to see me."
Chloé's composure broke entirely into a wide, unguarded smile, and she threw her arms around her grandmother with a warmth that could have lit the room. "I love you, Grandmother."
Serena accepted the embrace with the long-suffering grace of a woman who knew she had never once successfully said no to this girl, and likely never would.
What she did not say aloud, because it was not the kind of thing she put into words, was that she had already made up her mind. Seventeen years old and already operating at Elite-rank trainer capacity. In a smaller family, a talent like that would be treated as the cornerstone of the clan's next generation, its single best hope for a meaningful rise. Even within a household that counted Elite Four-level figures among its members, Sieg would merit serious development and a place at the center of things.
Within the scope of what the Joy family looked for in the people they invested in, in the people they welcomed into the family itself, he ranked near the top of any reasonable list. Not quite at the level of those rare, monstrous talents who reached the doorstep of Elite Four by twenty, but seventeen years old was young. Very young. And a Junior Breeder certification stacked on top of real battlefield ability was exactly the kind of combination, intellect and instinct together, a rare pairing, that tended to compound into something extraordinary over time.
The foundation was there. The raw material was unquestionable. All it required was the right resources, the right environment, and enough time.
The future, Serena thought, was genuinely open for this one.