"You still hungry?" I asked Gible.
The dragon burped, a small gout of flame escaping his mouth. 'Small stomach. Large appetite. I can eat more soon.'
"Then we keep fishing. But maybe we take a break first. Let you digest."
I gathered the driftwood I'd spotted earlier and arranged it in a small pit I'd dug in the sand. The fire-starter kit made ignition easy—a few sparks, some kindling, and soon flames crackled against the darkness.
The non-Pokémon fish I'd caught went onto improvised skewers, positioned over the fire to cook. The smell of roasting fish filled the air, mixing with salt spray and wood smoke.
Gible watched the cooking process with interest.
'We don't cook Pokémon,' I said firmly, anticipating his question. 'The regular fish, yes. But not Magikarp or any other Pokémon we catch.'
'Why?'
'Because...' I struggled to articulate the distinction. 'Because Pokémon are different. They're intelligent. They can communicate, form bonds, and grow stronger. Eating them raw is one thing—that's nature. But cooking them feels wrong. Like we're reducing them to mere food rather than worthy opponents.'
Gible considered this. 'Acceptable. The raw ones taste good anyway.'
I couldn't help but laugh at his pragmatism. "Fair enough."
As the fish cooked, I cast my line again. Might as well be productive while waiting.
This time, I caught something different.
The pull was stronger, more erratic. When I finally hauled it onto the beach, I found myself looking at a Tentacool—a jellyfish Pokémon with a translucent blue body and two large red orbs on its head.
"Cool! Tentacool!" It flailed its tentacles aggressively.
"Gible, this one's yours," I said, stepping back. "But don't eat it. We're battling this time."
The little dragon hopped off his rock, positioning himself between the agitated Water-type and me.
'Why not eat it?'
"Because Tentacool are poisonous. Their tentacles contain toxins that could make you sick."
'Understood.'
'I didn't have the heart to tell him that Steel-type Pokémon were immune to poison.'
The Tentacool righted itself, floating above the sand using some form of water manipulation. Its tentacles whipped forward, trying to sting Gible.
"Dragon Rage!" I commanded.
Gible's maw opened, orange flames gathering in his throat. The attack erupted in a concentrated blast of draconic energy that slammed into Tentacool's center mass.
The jellyfish Pokémon shrieked and collapsed, its HP depleted instantly. It lay twitching on the sand, alive but thoroughly defeated.
[VICTORY!]
[TENTACOOL DEFEATED - Level 10]
[EXP GAINED: +190]
[LEVEL UP!]
[GIBLE: Level 7 → Level 8]
[Current EXP: 120/200]
[Free EVs: 1]
I blinked at the notifications flooding my vision. The experience gained was massive.
Far more than I'd expected from a single wild Pokémon.
'One hundred ninety experience points,' I thought, rapidly doing the math. 'Tentacool's base experience is one hundred five, but the formula accounts for level difference. Since Tentacool was Level 10 and Gible was Level 7...'
The bonus multiplier had nearly doubled the reward.
'And he leveled up. Plus gained an EV in Special Defense from the battle itself.'
I recalled the fishing line, letting the Tentacool retreat into the ocean under its own power.
It limped away, tentacles dragging through the surf until deeper water allowed it to float again.
Surprisingly, the Tentacool moved even though it had just been defeated. It must have had stronger resilience than others of its kind.
Gible stood taller now, the level increase having boosted his stats across the board. He seemed more confident.
I pulled up his updated status:
POKÉMON: Gible
Level: 8
Type: Dragon/Steel
HP: 26 (+2)
ATK: 17 (+1)
DEF: 19 (+1)
SP. ATK: 12 (+1)
SP. DEF: 12 (+1)
SPEED: 14
Moves: Tackle, Sand Attack, Scale Shot, Dragon Rage
Ability: Rough Skin
IVs:
HP: 0
ATK: 31
DEF: 31
SP. ATK: 0
SP. DEF: 0
SPEED: 31
Free EVs: 1
Current EXP: 120/200
"Good work," I told Gible, who was already eyeing the water for more challengers.
The dragon nodded, clearly enjoying this new training method.
I checked the time again: 7:58 PM.
Just over an hour until low tide.
Time passed slowly on the frozen beach, marked only by the steady rhythm of waves and the crackling of my fire.
I'd settled into a comfortable routine—cast the line, wait for a bite, reel in whatever I caught, repeat.
The Old Rod proved its worth repeatedly.
Between catches, I cooked the regular fish I'd hooked, skewering them over the flames until their skin crisped and the meat flaked easily.
The smell was incredible, mixing with the salt air and wood smoke to create something almost homey despite the desolate setting.
Gible had recovered from his Magikarp feast and was prowling the perimeter of our camp with renewed energy.
His belly had returned to normal size, though I knew from the way he eyed the water that his appetite remained unsatisfied.
'Small stomach, large appetite,' I thought, watching him investigate a piece of driftwood. 'He can eat frequently but not much at once. Perfect for sustained EV training if we had more Magikarp.'
But I'd caught seven already, and the system had only granted EVs for consumption, not additional catches of the same species.
Diminishing returns, apparently. The ocean wasn't going to let me game the system by feeding Gible an infinite Magikarp buffet.
I checked my Pokédex: 8:12 PM.
Still almost an hour until low tide. Plenty of time to continue preparing.