Chapter 131: The Uninvited Guest
"They are all just weaklings!"
The dismissive thought echoed in the air, though it lacked any real malice. Following the map etched into his memory, Mizuki pushed aside a massive, dew-soaked fern. He stepped out of the oppressive humidity of the dense jungle and into a hidden clearing. Towering, ancient trees surrounded the area, their massive roots and thick branches intertwining to form a natural, impenetrable fortress.
This secluded sanctuary served as the final refuge for Digimon who had fled across the Server Continent over the past grueling week. Glancing around, Mizuki took in the sight of the survivors. The vast majority were small, vulnerable In-Training and Rookie level Digimon, huddled together for warmth and comfort. A handful of Champion level Digimon stood near the perimeter, though their soft features and nervous postures made it clear they were not built for combat.
Haunted by the relentless hunting of Myotismon's nightmare army, these refugees slept with one eye open. The rustle of Mizuki's boots against the grass caused a dozen heads to snap toward the tree line, eyes wide with terror. But as the shadows parted to reveal the familiar white coat of the human boy, the collective tension drained from the clearing in a heavy sigh.
"Big Brother Mizuki!" a chorus of tiny voices rang out. "Big Sister Belle! And Big Sister Piximon!"
Leading the charge was Shortmon, the little cake-like Digimon they had rescued days prior. She waddled forward as fast as her stubby legs could carry her.
"Big Brother Mizuki, Big Sister Belle, Big Sister Piximon, you're here!" she cheered, bouncing on her heels.
Mizuki offered a warm, easy smile, crouching down to meet her at eye level. "Hello, Shortmon. Hello, everyone. How have you all been holding up lately? Are you getting used to the new camp?"
"Mm-hmm!" Shortmon nodded vigorously. Her large, bright eyes sparkled with a renewed light. Just a week ago, those same eyes had been hollow, clouded by absolute despair. Now, she looked at Mizuki with pure, unfiltered trust. That mysterious, kindhearted BlackGatomon really had told the truth.
"Thank you for checking on us, Big Brother Mizuki!" Shortmon continued, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "After a week of resting, everyone is finally getting their spirits back. Oh, and Burgermon and Potamon have been working super hard in the kitchen!"
Right on cue, the rapid pitter-patter of tiny feet echoed across the dirt. Two distinctly round Digimon squeezed through the crowd, each holding a massive platter of food high above their heads.
"It's Big Brother Mizuki!" Burgermon shouted, nearly tripping over a root. "Quick, quick, you have to taste my newest hamburger! I created this recipe after surviving all those hardships. I infused my entire soul, my gratitude, and my personal transformation straight into the patties!"
Before Burgermon could shove the towering sandwich into Mizuki's hands, Potamon shoved his way forward, holding up a steaming, golden basket. "Me too, me too! My french fries are a culinary masterpiece! Great King Mizuki, you must taste my fries first!"
Mizuki let out a long, helpless sigh, though the amusement in his pink eyes betrayed him. "I've told you a dozen times, please don't call me 'Great King Mizuki'."
Under their intense, unblinking stares, he had no choice. He accepted the massive burger and the basket of fries, taking a deliberate bite of each. The explosion of savory juices and perfectly salted crunch hit his tongue instantly. They truly lived up to their classification as food-type Digimon. They might be entirely useless in a fight, but their culinary skills bordered on magic.
Seeing the genuine satisfaction wash over Mizuki's face, Burgermon and Potamon beamed with pride. Their hard work had paid off.
But the wholesome moment shattered in record time.
"Hmph-hmph!" Potamon puffed out his chest. "Great King Mizuki is clearly moved to tears by the crispy perfection of my fries!"
"Absolute nonsense!" Burgermon snapped, slamming his little fists on his hips. "It is obvious that the rich, fragrant juices of my hamburger won his heart!"
"French fries!"
"Hamburger!"
Sparks practically flew as their eyes locked in a fierce, unyielding glare.
"Burgermon!!!"
"Potamon!!!"
"Ohhh-ohhh-ohhh!!!" they roared in unison, lunging at each other.
"These two... not again," Shortmon groaned, slapping a hand over her face as the two cooks began aggressively shoving handfuls of fries and burger buns into each other's mouths.
During their terrifying escape across the continent, both Burgermon and Potamon had been incredibly reliable. But the moment the topic shifted to their respective culinary arts, all logic vanished. Shortmon had tried to mediate a hundred times, to no avail.
She looked up at Mizuki, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I am so sorry, Big Brother Mizuki."
"Why apologize?" Mizuki chuckled, brushing a crumb from his coat. He offered the guilt-ridden Shortmon a comforting look. "Everyone is energetic and in high spirits. After what you've all been through, that is a wonderful thing. As for their little rivalry, a bit of fierce competition will only push them to improve their cooking. As long as they don't burn the camp down, it is perfectly fine."
'As long as it doesn't get out of hand...' Shortmon tilted her head, thinking back. Honestly, the most violent their fights ever got was aggressively forcing the other to eat their dinner. When she framed it like that, it really wasn't a problem at all.
A familiar buzzing sound broke through the chatter as Piximon hovered over to Mizuki's shoulder, leaning heavily on his spear.
"I told you, brat Mizuki, you worry entirely too much, pi!" the small fairy Digimon chided, swatting the air. "The natural resilience of Digimon is far superior to you fragile little human brats, pi! Instead of playing babysitter, you would be much better off focusing your attention on our incoming guests, pi!"
"Guests?" Shortmon repeated, blinking in confusion. She looked around the peaceful clearing, seeing no one new.
Mizuki did not turn his head. The warm, gentle smile on his face slowly hardened into something cold and indifferent.
"Teacher Piximon," Mizuki said, his voice dropping to a low, unhurried drawl. "I have to correct you on one minor detail. Only those who come with good intentions earn the title of 'guest'."
The air temperature plummeted. Without warning, a rusted, jagged chain exploded from the thick shadows of the tree canopy, shooting straight toward the back of Mizuki's neck with lethal precision.
"As for visitors who reek of this much malice..." Mizuki didn't even flinch as the metal hissed through the air. "...they are nothing but enemies."
A flash of brilliant white light reflected in Mizuki's calm pupils. Belle.
The assassin had masked its presence flawlessly, blending into the ambient data of the forest. But Belle was no longer the same Digimon she was weeks ago. Under Piximon's brutal, hellish training regimen, her senses had sharpened to a razor's edge. She had locked onto the hostile aura long before the chain was even thrown.
Manifesting in her stunning Angewomon form, Belle materialized directly behind Mizuki. She didn't dodge. She didn't draw a weapon. She simply raised a slender, glowing hand and swatted the heavy iron chain out of the air.
The metal shattered into a dozen useless fragments upon impact, raining down onto the dirt.
Stripped of its stealth, the attacker was forced to step out from the void, its horrifying silhouette looming over the clearing. A tattered red cloak, a gleaming scythe, and a heavy iron weight dangling from a chain.
Ultimate Level—Phantomon!
"It's Phantomon!" a Rookie screamed, pointing a trembling finger at the grim reaper.
"He's one of Myotismon's elite executioners!"
"He's the monster who burned our village down!"
Absolute panic erupted. The peaceful clearing instantly devolved into chaos as the traumatized refugees scrambled over each other, desperately trying to put distance between themselves and the floating specter of death.
The agonizing memories of the slaughter a week prior were still entirely too fresh. But before the stampede could truly begin, Shortmon leaped onto a nearby stump, her tiny voice cutting through the hysteria.
"Everyone, stop! Calm down!" she shrieked. "Look! Don't forget that Big Brother Mizuki and Big Sister Belle are right here!"
The frantic scrambling halted. Dozens of terrified eyes darted from the floating Phantomon to the calm, unbothered human boy standing beneath him. The sheer normalcy of Mizuki's posture acted like an anchor. The chaos subsided into a tense, breathless silence. They were still terrified, but in that moment, Mizuki was their absolute pillar of strength.
Feeling the weight of dozens of fervent, desperate gazes locking onto his back, Mizuki experienced a sudden, sharp wave of déjà vu.
'Could it be... did BlackGatomon and the others deliberately arrange for these survivors to gather around me?'
The suspicion bloomed in his mind, but he ruthlessly crushed it down. Analyzing the grand chessboard would have to wait. Right now, there was an executioner in his living room.
Without taking his eyes off the cloaked Digimon, Mizuki calmly reached down and picked up his silver suitcase, his thumb resting lightly on the latch.
Hovering in the air, Phantomon gripped his scythe tightly, his single glowing eye locked onto the radiant Angewomon standing guard.
"Curse it all..." Phantomon hissed, his voice sounding like grinding tombstones. "I had planned to wait in the shadows until you wretched brats left to scavenge, then harvest the data of these weaklings in peace. I never expected an angel of your caliber to be hiding among this trash."
Mizuki raised an eyebrow. The grim reaper's words revealed a fatal flaw in his intelligence gathering. If Phantomon had been stalking this camp for a long time, how could he possibly be surprised by Belle's presence? Unless...
Mizuki shifted his gaze toward Piximon.
Catching the boy's stare, the pink fairy Digimon didn't say a word. He simply hovered in place and offered a slow, incredibly smug wink.
Mizuki's lips twitched. '...Of course.'
He didn't know exactly what kind of high-level illusion magic Piximon had woven over the sanctuary, but it was clear Phantomon had been watching a fabricated feed. The assassin thought he was stalking a helpless flock of sheep, completely blind to the apex predators resting among them. It also explained why Phantomon hadn't factored Tai and the rest of the Chosen Children into his ambush calculations.
Before Mizuki could piece together the rest of the puzzle, Piximon tapped his spear against the dirt, calling out to Belle.
"This is a perfect training opportunity, pi!" Piximon cheered, entirely unbothered by the looming threat of death. "Little girl Belle, seize the moment and show me what you've learned, pi!"
Belle, who had been gathering holy light in her palms, immediately halted her attack. She glanced back over her shoulder, giving a firm, serious nod. "Understood!"
To Phantomon's absolute bewilderment, the towering, majestic form of Angewomon began to glow with a brilliant white light. Her massive wings folded inward, her holy armor dissolving as her body rapidly shrank.
When the light faded, a small, white feline stood in the dirt. She had devolved back into Gatomon.
"Big Sister Belle... devolved?!" Shortmon gasped, clutching her little cheeks in horror. The surrounding refugees mirrored her shock, their fragile hope cracking.
Phantomon stared at the tiny cat for a long moment before throwing his head back, an awful, grating laugh tearing from his invisible throat. "Hahahaha! I thought I had stumbled across a genuine threat! But you are nothing but a half-baked defect who can't even maintain your Ultimate form for more than a few seconds!"
He gripped his scythe with both hands, the dark aura around him flaring violently. "Since that is the case, I have no reason to hold back!"
Slashing his scythe through the air, Phantomon bypassed the small cat entirely, diving straight toward his true target: Mizuki.
But before the blade could even cross half the distance, the air cracked. A blur of white fur intercepted his path.
Phantomon's single eye widened as a tiny, oversized paw rapidly expanded in his field of vision. Relying purely on instinct, the grim reaper jerked his scythe horizontally, using the thick iron shaft as a shield.
CLANG!
The impact sounded like a cannon firing. Despite blocking the strike, the sheer, concentrated kinetic force behind Gatomon's punch sent Phantomon rocketing backward, his ethereal body plowing a deep trench through the dirt.
Landing gracefully on her paws, Belle shook out her right hand, a look of deep disappointment crossing her feline features.
"Is this really all an Ultimate level can do?" she muttered, sighing. She looked back at the hovering fairy. "Teacher Piximon, I think I need to drop down to Rookie level to make this a fair fight."
Piximon shook his head, a helpless sigh escaping him. "You arrogant little girl, do not get careless, pi! Phantomon is one of Myotismon's most capable executioners, pi. If he only had brute force, that vampire would have discarded him ages ago!"
As if on cue, the thick dust cloud at the end of the trench violently parted. The sharp hiss of metal cutting through air rang out as multiple jagged chains shot forth from the smoke like striking vipers.
Watching the iron links weave through the air, attacking from multiple blind spots simultaneously, Belle instantly dropped her playful demeanor. Her blue eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
The first chain snapped directly at her face. Belle didn't flinch, pivoting on her heel and delivering a brutal roundhouse kick that deflected the heavy iron with a shower of sparks.
The second chain was smarter. It bypassed her guard entirely, whipping around a nearby tree trunk to strike her from behind in a lethal blind spot. Yet, with a casual tilt of her head, Belle let the rusted metal sail harmlessly past her ear.
But she had underestimated the reaper's control. The first chain she had kicked away whipped back like a pendulum, violently colliding with the second chain. The kinetic transfer caused both weapons to ricochet at impossible, erratic angles, snapping right back toward her throat.
Worse still, four more chains erupted from the ground beneath her, weaving a deadly iron cage that completely sealed off every possible avenue of escape.
Feeling the icy chill of death closing in from all directions, a sharp, predatory glint flashed in Belle's eyes.
"If I can't dodge..." she whispered, her leg muscles coiling like springs. "...then I'll just break them all!"
[Lightning Paw!]
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Belle had never received formal martial arts training, but surviving countless life-or-death battles alongside Mizuki had forged her instincts into something terrifying. She moved like a blur of white lightning. Every strike of her oversized paws hit the heavy iron chains with the force of a wrecking ball.
Combining her raw, unpolished combat rhythm with the explosive power of her signature attack, the result was devastating.
"Break!" she roared, unleashing a final, blinding flurry of blows.
With a deafening crack, the last encroaching chain was punched clean out of the air, its links shattering into digital dust. The inescapable death trap had been dismantled by pure, overwhelming violence.
But before Belle could even exhale, the shadows beneath her paws began to boil. A strange, unnatural ripple distorted the dirt.
"Below!"
Realizing the trap, Belle didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. She kicked off the ground, launching herself high into the air. She spun, ready to drive her fist into Phantomon's skull the moment he emerged.
But as she looked down, her eyes widened. It wasn't the grim reaper crawling out of her shadow. It was a rotting, grotesque skeleton dripping with dark energy.
"Foolish cat!" Phantomon's grating voice echoed from the far side of the clearing. "Take this!"
[Words of Death!]
It was one of Phantomon's most insidious techniques. The dark magic circle beneath the skeleton flared, and the undead abomination unhinged its jaw, spewing a thick, suffocating cloud of cursed black mist directly into the airborne Gatomon's face.
Taking full advantage of the blinding mist swallowing his only real threat, Phantomon dissolved into the shadows, reappearing instantly right in front of Mizuki.
His target had never changed. It had always been the frail human boy standing calmly on the sidelines.
"Brat! You're the one holding these pathetic creatures together, aren't you?!" Phantomon cackled, his singular eye burning with sadistic glee. "Once I sever their head, slaughtering the rest will be child's play!"
Gripping his weapon, Phantomon whipped the heavy, spiked iron weight attached to the end of his scythe, hurling it directly at Mizuki's skull with bone-crushing force.
[Soul Chopper!]
"No!" Shortmon screamed. Seeing the massive iron weight hurtling toward the boy who had saved her, the tiny Digimon didn't think. Driven purely by instinct and gratitude, she threw her small, soft body directly in front of Mizuki, squeezing her eyes shut as she braced for the fatal impact.
But the crushing blow never came.
Instead, a warm hand gently rested on top of her head.
"Thank you, Shortmon," a soft, gentle voice murmured by her ear. "But I've got this."
Shortmon opened her eyes in utter shock as Mizuki casually stepped around her, placing himself directly in the path of the incoming weapon.
Facing the lethal iron weight hurtling toward his face, Mizuki didn't draw a weapon. He didn't activate his Digi-Soul. He simply raised his bare, human fist.
Phantomon's eye twitched in sheer confusion. 'Is this human suicidal?'
Mizuki's pink eyes locked onto the reaper, cold and entirely devoid of fear. "I have to ask..." he began, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "...does Myotismon simply not trust you?"
As the last syllable left his lips, Mizuki threw his punch.
Flesh met iron.
Under Phantomon's horrified, uncomprehending gaze, the human boy's bare knuckles slammed into the spiked weight—and completely obliterated it. The heavy iron shattered into dozens of jagged fragments, exploding outward like shrapnel.
The falling shards of metal caught the light, each piece reflecting Mizuki's perfectly composed posture. His white coat snapped violently in the shockwave of the impact. He slowly lowered his fist, a faint, almost mocking smile playing on his lips.
"After all," Mizuki purred, his tone dripping with dark amusement, "it seems your master never bothered to tell you exactly who put him in that injured state."
[Akarin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/AkarinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/AkarinTL
🔗 All My Links: linktr[.]ee/AkarinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]