Inside a private training room at the gym.
"Gible—use Dragon Dance!"
Serena gave the command in a powerful, confident voice.
There was a saying that a Trainer's loud roar could also count as a kind of move—
one that caused all opposing Pokémon who heard it to suffer a drop in Special Attack.
After all…
Who could say that upright, hairless apes weren't a kind of creature?
And who could say that their evolved form—the Super Rookie Trainer—
wasn't a battle race with physical stats rivaling top-tier Pokémon?
So clearly, the louder the command,
the more advantageous it was for Pokémon battles.
Probably.
"Kapu—!"
The moment it heard Serena's order,
Gible's previously dull, harmless-looking eyes sharpened instantly.
It was as if upbeat disco music had started playing in the background.
Gible swung its fin-like arms, twisted its round body, rolled across the ground,
and launched straight into a distinctive dragon-style battle dance.
Its Speed rose.
Its Attack rose.
Both by one stage.
Dragon Dance:
A powerful, mysterious dance that raises the user's Attack and Speed.
This was the terrifying strength of Dragon Dance.
Many Trainers who didn't truly understand competitive battling
mistakenly believed that "raising a stat by one stage"
meant simply gaining one level—
for example, going from Level 5 to Level 6.
That wasn't the case at all.
In Pokémon battles, one stage increase meant:
➡ +50% of the original stat
➡ In other words, 1.5× the original value
Two stages meant doubling the stat.
Up to six stages, the maximum, meant triple the original value.
Debuffs worked the same way—
up to six stages of reduction.
Because of this, buff-type moves were extremely powerful.
A competent Trainer would never casually allow an opponent
the time and space to stack buffs.
Once buffs were fully stacked,
a Pokémon could easily sweep an entire team.
One versus three.
Or even one versus six.
Of course, speed alone wasn't enough.
If you only boosted Speed without increasing Attack,
you couldn't knock out opponents quickly,
giving them chances to counterattack.
Likewise, boosting Attack without Speed meant getting hit first
by faster opponents.
Either way, sweeping became difficult.
That was why Dragon Dance,
which boosted both Attack and Speed at the same time,
was universally recognized as one of the most broken setup moves in existence.
Now imagine this:
A Pokémon with a base stat total of 600,
with an almost perfect stat distribution…
And then it learned Dragon Dance.
That Pokémon would be too perfect.
Which explained why, across multiple generations of Pokémon games,
many Dragon-types—and even non-Dragon Pokémon—
were allowed to learn Dragon Dance…
Yet Gible, Gabite, and Garchomp never could.
As if they were personally targeted by the heavens themselves.
And that "heaven" was none other than
the so-called creators of the Pokémon world.
The background music wasn't real.
It was just Serena playing it in her head.
But the effects of Dragon Dance?
Those were absolutely real.
Gible's movements became lighter and faster,
and its attacks noticeably more aggressive.
"Kapu~"
It spun its round body in place—
both agile and ridiculously cute.
A Gible that knew Dragon Dance.
This wasn't a dream.
This was reality.
Serena's expression grew serious.
Before transmigrating, she had been a seasoned Pokémon battle player,
with deep knowledge of training, team building, and competitive logic.
That was precisely why she had been able to act as that mysterious "friend"—
the one who supplied players with illegal, customized Pokémon.
Because she understood what players truly wanted.
Why they wanted Garchomp to learn Dragon Dance.
Why they wanted Groudon to be able to use Fly.
Why they wanted Gengar to regain Levitate.
If she properly trained Gible—
If it evolved into Gabite, then Garchomp,
and perhaps even Mega Garchomp—
Then the sheer dominance of a Dragon Dance Garchomp
was something she could already foresee.
Almost as if she had unlocked Future Sight EX.
"My little shark…" Serena murmured.
"Restoring Garchomp's lost glory—
that responsibility already rests on you."