"Pidgeotto has lost its ability to battle!
The winner is Kael, the contestant from Viridian City!"
The green flag came down, and yet another match of Kael's ended with laughable ease.
On the battlefield lay a massive avian Pokémon, over a meter tall, slumped sideways on the floor. Faint traces of frostbite were still visible across its back.
Kael's opponent had assumed that Pidgeotto's aerial superiority guaranteed victory, and in doing so had relaxed their vigilance against Weavile. What they hadn't expected was that after a burst of high-speed movement, Weavile would suddenly leap in reverse, flashing behind Pidgeotto in an instant—
No warning. No hesitation.
Ice Punch.
With Weavile's attack power, combined with type advantage and the double damage bonus from type effectiveness, a one-hit kill wasn't exactly something worth making a fuss over.
"How long did that match even last?"
The Hawaiian-shirted middle-aged man who had watched Kael's first battle nudged the bespectacled guy beside him.
The man with glasses smiled and pointed at his wristwatch.
"This time I used a stopwatch on purpose. From the moment both Trainers sent out their Pokémon… that Weavile finished it in 1.65 seconds."
"So it didn't even hit two seconds?"
The man in the floral shirt nodded thoughtfully at first, then suddenly shouted exaggeratedly,
"Isn't this kid a little too abnormal?! Who fights matches like this? I hadn't even figured out what was going on before it was already over!"
What he said echoed the thoughts of most of the onlookers.
The most exciting Pokémon battles were always those where both sides were evenly matched. As for these completely one-sided beatdowns—aside from a few gasps after the fact, there wasn't much for the audience to savor. After all, when a match ends in just a few seconds… what the hell are you even watching?
That said, this wasn't entirely because Kael was too strong.
The real cause lay in the second rule announced by the S.S. Anne organizers.
Heavyweight Pokémon were prohibited.
That single rule eliminated many Ground-, Rock-, and Steel-type Pokémon known for their terrifying defenses. On top of that, numerous powerful moves were restricted as well, meaning many Trainers couldn't even field their strongest partners.
As a result, most of the Pokémon used in the tournament aboard the S.S. Anne were small- to mid-sized, high-speed but fragile types.
And that was precisely why Weavile's current dominance had emerged.
Weavile was already fast to begin with—but after evolving, its speed underwent a qualitative leap. Add to that Kael's long-term weighted training, and now, with the gravity rings removed, Kael dared to say this:
Among the 300-plus Trainers participating on the ship, not a single Pokémon could surpass Weavile in speed.
There was an old saying from his previous life:
"If you're fast enough, nothing else matters."
As long as you're fast enough—fast enough to strike at will while denying your opponent even the chance to react—victory will always belong to you.
...
"Squirtle, Skull Bash!"
"Squirtle—Squirtle!"
A strangely styled Squirtle wearing sunglasses pulled its head into its shell—then snapped it back out in an instant. Its body shot forward like a launched missile, blasting straight off from its original position.
The opposing Venonat didn't have time to dodge.
Bang!
Squirtle smashed squarely into its forehead.
Venonat's massive red compound eyes instantly bloodshot from the impact. Its body wobbled once… then collapsed face-first onto the floor.
"Veno..."
"Venonat has lost the ability to battle!
The winner is Ash, the contestant from Pallet Town!"
"Yes!"
Ash leapt into the air in excitement when the referee announced the result.
"That's my second win! See? I knew I was strong too!"
"Squirtle! Squirtle!"
Squirtle waved at Ash, then pointed at itself and raised a thumbs-up—clearly saying You're nothing special. I'm the real MVP.
"Hey, Squirtle—you did great too!"
Ash understood perfectly and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.
"Go watch the battle at Arena No. 9—that guy named Kael is seriously insane. He keeps one-shotting everyone."
A passing tourist said this casually, but it immediately caught Ash's attention.
"Kael? That name sounds familiar…"
Ash bit his thumb as he thought.
"Oh! Right—he's that cool guy from yesterday. He's competing too? In that case, I've gotta go see for myself. Might as well check out how strong he really is."
By the time Ash finally squeezed through the crowd and reached the edge of the arena, the match was already over.
The referee stood there, holding the green flag high.
On the field stood a Weavile, its right arm frozen in a chopping pose.
At its feet lay a Tauros that had long since lost its ability to battle. The muscles around its neck were grotesquely swollen, as if it had been struck violently by a blunt weapon.
Tauros's straight-line charge was fast—brutally fast.
But all it took was a single sidestep from Weavile to render it helpless. The moment an opening appeared—
Brick Break.
Fighting-type moves counter Normal-types, granting a damage bonus. However, since Weavile itself wasn't a Fighting-type Pokémon, it didn't receive same-type attack bonus.
When a Pokémon's move matches its own typing, the move's damage is amplified—just like type advantage. This is one of the immutable rules of the world.
Psychic- and Dragon-type Pokémon are naturally gifted and can learn moves of many different attributes, but no matter how strong a Psychic-type's Flamethrower is, it will never surpass a Charizard's Flamethrower.
That's the difference type bonus makes.
So why did Kael specialize Weavile in Night Slash, Ice Punch, and Brick Break?
This tournament answered that question perfectly.
These three offensive moves together covered eleven different types, ensuring that nearly every opponent Weavile encountered would be at a disadvantage—allowing it to deal double damage through type effectiveness.
Even if an opponent tried to counter it deliberately, Weavile's terrifying speed ensured it would strike first.
And once Weavile had used Swords Dance twice…
No matter how you tried to respond—unless you were an Elite Four–level Trainer—
You were looking at nothing less than a full team wipe.