Chapter 141: No Need to Hold Back
"So, you two are the stray Digimon looking to join Myotismon's ranks?"
LadyDevimon's crimson eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. She hovered just inches above the scorched earth, casting a long, oppressive shadow over the two diminutive figures standing before her.
Truth be told, she was already in a foul mood. The sudden appearance of these two runts had created just enough of a distraction for that blasted MetalGreymon (Blue) to slip through her fingers.
Her jaw locked. She had failed to silence that bastard, and he knew far too much about her dark history. The very thought of it made her leather-clad fists clench so tightly her knuckles popped.
A violent aura flickered around her jagged wings, but she forced herself to take a slow, steadying breath. Losing her temper now wouldn't fix her mistake. She needed to refocus. Lowering her gaze, she evaluated the two peculiar Digimon seeking an audience.
First, the white feline. A Gatomon.
When LadyDevimon had initially spotted the creature, a jolt of genuine panic had pierced through her. For a split second, she thought the original runaway Gatomon had actually returned to the castle. That would have been a disaster, considering LadyDevimon had secretly gone out of her way to orchestrate that exact escape.
But after a few moments of careful observation, she relaxed. The subtle differences in posture and the distinct lack of a Holy Ring confirmed it. This was not the same Gatomon. While the species wasn't exactly a common sight wandering the Digital World, it wasn't a mythical rarity, either.
But speaking of rarity...
LadyDevimon shifted her piercing gaze to the second figure.
He was clad head-to-toe in gleaming, immaculate golden armor that caught the dim light of the wasteland. According to his rather polite self-introduction, he was a Digimon known as Zubamon.
Despite claiming to only be at the Champion level, the sheer quality of his golden plating—not to mention the dramatic, flowing cape draped over his shoulders—screamed of a high-tier lineage. Capes were almost exclusively the domain of powerful, elite entities in this world. More, she had never actually seen a Zubamon in person. He was an incredibly rare variant.
Everyone in the Digital World knew the rule: rare Digimon weren't always the strongest in raw destructive force, but they invariably possessed bizarre, unique advantages that could turn the tide of a battle.
A feverish, calculating glint sparked in LadyDevimon's eyes.
Forget the Gatomon for a moment. This Zubamon... if she could somehow bring him back and present him to His Excellency Mizuki... wouldn't His Excellency be absolutely thrilled?
She had found such a unique, fascinating specimen just for him. He would surely praise her.
Lost in her own fantasies, LadyDevimon fell completely silent. Her stare grew increasingly intense, practically burning a hole through the golden armor.
Under the weight of that heavy, unblinking scrutiny, Zubamon—who was, in reality, a heavily disguised Mizuki—felt an inexplicable chill crawl up his spine.
What is wrong with her? Mizuki thought, shifting his weight uncomfortably. She's only been away from us for a week. Why is she acting so weird?
That look in her eyes... it was deeply unsettling. He knew it was entirely inappropriate to make the comparison, but he couldn't help it. He had seen that exact same feverish, obsessive look in his past life. He had seen it in the eyes of his child's overbearing classmates, the nosy neighbors next door, the overly friendly passengers on the late-night train, and his former corporate superior—
Ahem!
Mizuki mentally slapped himself. What the hell am I thinking? Digimon are genderless data constructs!
He shook his head slightly, forcibly tossing those messy, dangerous thoughts into the deepest recesses of his mind.
Just as Mizuki opened his mouth to break the suffocating silence, Belle—currently masquerading as the stray Gatomon—beat him to the punch.
She stepped sharply in front of him, using her small, fluffy body to completely block LadyDevimon's line of sight. She tilted her chin up, glaring right back at the towering Ultimate-level Digimon with unapologetic defiance.
She simply couldn't stomach it for another second!
Mizu was her partner!
Sure, they were currently operating under a layer of disguise, but that fundamental truth hadn't changed. If she just stood by and let some strange woman ogle her partner like a piece of prime meat, how would she be any different from those useless, incompetent spouses in the human television dramas?
However, as Belle took her fiercely protective stance, the expression beneath Mizuki's golden helmet twisted into something incredibly subtle.
Wait a minute, he thought, a dry sense of amusement bubbling up in his chest. Am 'I' actually playing the role of the damsel in distress right now?
Fortunately, before the tension could spiral any further into completely bizarre territory, LadyDevimon blinked, snapping out of her daze.
"Don't be nervous, little ones," she cooed, her raspy voice dropping an octave.
She forcefully smoothed out her sharp features, attempting to paste on what she clearly believed to be a gentle, welcoming expression. Given her gothic attire and the heavy chains draped across her body, the result was slightly terrifying.
"I hold no ill will towards you," she continued, waving a clawed hand dismissively. "Quite the opposite, actually. I deeply appreciate Digimon like you who value the bond of their companions."
She leaned forward slightly, her crimson eyes locking onto Belle's. "Can you tell me why exactly you want to join Myotismon's ranks?"
Silence hung in the air for a brief second.
Mizuki and Belle exchanged a fleeting, perfectly synchronized glance. Without missing a beat, they turned back to the dark angel and spoke in perfect unison.
"To become stronger, of course."
"Oh?" LadyDevimon raised a slender eyebrow. "To become stronger?"
"That's right," Belle said, her voice dropping into a solemn register. She clenched her oversized paws into tight fists. "Only by gaining absolute strength can I properly protect my companion from this cruel world."
Mizuki side-eyed his partner. He honestly couldn't tell if she was channeling genuine trauma from her past or just putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, but the raw conviction in her voice felt incredibly real.
Across from them, LadyDevimon's dark lips curled into a genuine smile of satisfaction.
Loyal, driven, and possessing rare data? They were perfect. She was already itching to snatch them up and drag them straight into her own private faction before anyone else could get their claws on them.
But she was a veteran of the Digital World. Before she made any official offers, she needed to verify one crucial detail.
Organizing her thoughts, LadyDevimon straightened her posture and spoke in a slow, deliberate tone. "If that is truly your goal, then I have a much better place to recommend to you."
She crossed her arms, her chains clinking softly. "Trust me, Myotismon's faction is hardly suitable for Digimon with your... unique potential."
"Really?" Belle asked, tilting her head with feigned innocence.
"You're not just lying to us, are you?" Mizuki added, injecting just the right amount of naive skepticism into his synthesized voice.
LadyDevimon scoffed, clearly insulted. "Are you kidding me? I am the Ultimate-level Digimon, LadyDevimon. There is absolutely nothing that pompous Myotismon can do that I cannot do better."
Playing their parts to perfection, both the golden-armored Zubamon and the white feline shrank back, hunching their shoulders as if terrified by her sudden flare of temper.
"Then... what is this wonderful place you speak of, LadyDevimon?" Mizuki asked timidly.
"Well now~"
Having successfully baited the hook, LadyDevimon's momentary irritation vanished, replaced by a mysterious, self-satisfied smirk.
"I will gladly explain all the details to you," she purred, her gaze sweeping over them. "But before I do, I require a small test."
She held up a single finger. "I need to confirm your actual combat strength. But don't worry, I'm not a tyrant. I won't use my Ultimate-level power to crush you."
Dark data began to swirl around her boots, spiraling upward like a miniature cyclone. "I will suppress my data output and step down to the Champion level."
As she spoke, the dark vortex consumed her entirely. Her tall, imposing figure began to rapidly compress. The gothic leather, the jagged wings, and the heavy chains dissolved into fragments of code. When the dark light shattered a moment later, a small, sleek black feline stood in her place.
She had devolved into BlackGatomon.
Flicking her tail, BlackGatomon looked up at them, perhaps worried her sudden transformation might have scared them off. "Of course, you are entirely free to refuse. This is simply to satisfy my own personal curiosity."
Her eyes lingered on Mizuki. "After all, Zubamon... you are a remarkably rare specimen. I want to see what you can do."
"I understand," Mizuki replied smoothly.
Staring down at the newly formed BlackGatomon, an incredibly strange, almost pitying expression flashed across the faces of both Mizuki and Belle simultaneously.
A split second later, that pity melted away, replaced by a dangerous, predatory glint of sheer anticipation. The corners of Mizuki's mouth—hidden safely beneath his golden helmet—curved into a wicked, trollish grin.
"In that case, let's begin," Mizuki said, rolling his armored shoulders.
"We will gladly show you our strength," Belle added, her claws sliding out with a soft, metallic snikt. "But you must remember your promise."
"Of course," BlackGatomon replied, completely oblivious to the terrifying undercurrents radiating from the two 'weak' Digimon in front of her.
She puffed out her chest and gestured generously with one paw, practically inviting her own doom.
"There is no need to hold anything back. Come at me!" BlackGatomon declared, her voice brimming with absolute confidence. "Show me everything you've got—!"
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