Let's reach 250 Power Stones for an extra chapter
***
I sat on the floor, surrounded by a tangle of controller cords. On the TV screen, three karts—a red one for me, a pink one for Gatomon, and a black one for BlackGatomon—battled for the lead on Rainbow Road. Gatomon and BlackGatomon, both gripping their own controllers with intense focus, were completely absorbed in the game, their eyes glued to the screen as they navigated the treacherous track.
"Watch out for that banana peel, Gatomon!" I yelled, swerving my kart to narrowly avoid one of BlackGatomon's sneaky traps.
"No way! You always pull that trick!" BlackGatomon retorted, her ears twitching in concentration as her kart bumped against mine.
"It is a classic for a reason," Gatomon chimed in, her pink kart drifting perfectly around a corner, pulling ahead of both of us. "Skill always wins out over cheap tricks."
"Hey! That was a perfectly executed strategy!" BlackGatomon protested, her tail lashing playfully. "Just because you fell for it doesn't make it cheap!"
I laughed, enjoying the banter and the fierce competition. "Snickering She's got you there, BlackGatomon."
"Don't encourage her, Ethan!" BlackGatomon shouted, unleashing a red shell that spun my kart out. "You're supposed to be on my side!"
"All's fair in love and Rainbow Road, my friend!" I shouted back, already hitting the acceleration to catch up.
BZZZZT!
The sharp, insistent buzz from the apartment door sliced through the joyful chaos of our Mario Kart game. I slammed the pause button on the controller, muttering under my breath.
"You two, stay quiet," I instructed Gatomon and BlackGatomon, who were already looking up, their ears perked.
"But I was about to win!" BlackGatomon complained, pouting.
"You were about to lose," Gatomon corrected, a smug look on her face.
I ignored their bickering, my mind already running through the possibilities. Who could it be? Rent was paid, mostly. My DSD work was on track.
I pulled open the door, bracing myself for some unexpected disaster, and found Olivia standing in the hallway. She wore a polite, businesslike smile, but her posture was rigid, almost tense. She seemed different, more serious than usual.
"Olivia, is everything okay?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, but a knot of unease had already begun to tighten in my stomach. "Do you need something?"
She skipped the usual pleasantries, her smile faltering. Her expression shifted to one of genuine worry, her dark eyes looking past me into the apartment.
"Ethan, I'm just checking in," she said, her voice softer than usual. "Do you know where Jessica has been lately?"
I blinked, genuinely surprised by the question. "Jessica? Not really, no. I haven't seen much of her since she started working at the coffee shop with me."
That was a lie, of course. I had seen her, but she had been distant, almost cold, especially after I started working with Gwen and Peter on DSD. It still bothered me, but I had figured it was just typical teenage drama, something I did not need to get involved in.
"She has been coming home late," Olivia explained, her gaze softening. "Often with bruises that she refuses to talk about. I am getting worried about her, Ethan."
The news sent a jolt of anxiety through me, tightening the knot in my gut. Bruises? Jessica was not exactly the type to get into fights. What was going on?
"Bruises?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "What kind of bruises?"
"She always says she just fell or bumped into something," Olivia replied, her lips thinning. "But some of them look quite bad, Ethan. Like she has been in a serious accident."
I thought about Jessica's quiet demeanor, her tendency to avoid confrontation. The idea of her getting into trouble, especially enough to earn serious bruises, did not sit right with me. She was not a fighter.
What is she doing? I wondered, my mind racing. Is she in some kind of trouble?
"I will try to contact her, Olivia," I said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left my mouth.
Olivia gave me a tight, grateful nod. "Thank you, Ethan. Please let me know if you hear anything."
Her footsteps echoed down the hall, each one a stark reminder of the conversation. I did not like the sound of this. Jessica was not the type to get into trouble. Bruises? What kind of trouble was she getting into?
I pulled out my Digivice, my thumb hovering over Jessica's contact. I pressed the call button, but the phone rang twice before it went straight to voicemail.
"Jessica, it's Ethan," I said, my voice laced with more concern than I usually allowed. "Olivia told me you've been getting hurt. Call me back as soon as you get this, okay?"
I hung up, a pit forming in my stomach. Something was definitely wrong. My eyes scanned the room, landing on Gatomon and BlackGatomon, who were now watching me with serious expressions.
"She is not answering," I told them, my voice flat. "I need to find her."
"Finally, some action!" BlackGatomon exclaimed, already bouncing on the balls of her paws. "I was getting bored with all that kart racing."
"This is not a game, BlackGatomon," Gatomon chided, her blue eyes sharp. "Jessica is in trouble. We need to be serious."
"She is right," I agreed, a plan already forming in my mind. "We are going to track her phone."
I activated Connect Jump, the familiar sensation of my body dissolving into data washing over me. The apartment, the world, everything fractured into shimmering streams of light and code. Gatomon and BlackGatomon, now also data, appeared beside me as we plunged into the swirling vortex of cyberspace.
The digital landscape of New York City unfolded around us, a dizzying grid of glowing lines and flickering nodes. I pulled up the Digivice's tracking function, focusing on Jessica's phone signal. A faint green trail appeared, snaking through the data streams, leading us deeper into the city's digital underbelly.
"It is taking us to a strange part of town," Gatomon observed, her digital form shimmering as she moved beside me. "Why would Jessica be in the industrial district?"
"Maybe she found a new punching bag," BlackGatomon quipped, her crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation. "That place certainly looks like it is built for punching things."
"Let us hope it is not her getting punched," I muttered, my concern growing with each pulse of the green signal. "Something feels off about this."
I materialized inside a private room in an internet cafe, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The faint scent of stale coffee and disinfectant filled the air. My Digivice map showed the gym was only a few blocks away. I tucked the device into my pocket, storing Gatomon and BlackGatomon inside for now, and pushed open the cafe door. I stepped onto the busy sidewalk, blending into the stream of city foot traffic.
I arrived at the gym, peering through the large glass windows. Inside, Jessica moved with a focused determination, her dark hair pulled back. She was in the boxing ring, trading blows with Luke Cage in a controlled sparring session. A wave of relief washed over me. She was safe. She was training, not in trouble.
"Well, that explains the bruises," Gatomon quipped from the Digivice. "She is not half bad for a human, even if she fights like she is holding back."
"She is fighting that big guy," BlackGatomon retorted. "He looks like he could break her in half without even trying."
"True, but look at her stance," Gatomon said, analytical as ever. "She moves with surprising agility. There is something more to this than just a casual workout."
"Whatever it is, she is getting stronger," BlackGatomon pointed out. "Maybe we should get her to join our team, Ethan. She might actually be useful."
"You two stop joking," I murmured, my voice low, "stay quiet for now."
Deciding I needed a closer look, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
***
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