Chapter 21: So... I'm Being Targeted?
"Mizu, how are you feeling now?"
The warm, holy light gradually faded from Mizuki's right leg. Angewomon's thorough treatment had worked miracles; the mangled flesh and shattered bone were completely restored, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin.
Under her watchful gaze—a mixture of lingering worry and hopeful anticipation—Mizuki pushed off the ground. He executed a flawless kip-up, landing lightly on his feet. To test his mobility, he snapped out a rapid succession of whip kicks into the empty air. The sharp, cracking sound of his leg breaking the sound barrier echoed across the field, sharp enough to make the watching children flinch.
Taichi's jaw dropped. "Sure enough, it's true. Everyone from your country really is a martial arts master."
Watching Mizuki's crisp, explosive movements, Taichi's deeply ingrained stereotype of a certain vast Eastern nation only cemented itself further.
Mizuki shot the goggled boy a helpless glare. "I told you, that is purely a stereotype. We don't all fly on swords or punch through brick walls."
Turning his attention back to his partner, Mizuki offered a gentle, reassuring smile. "You were a massive help, Angewomon. Thank you."
A faint flush of pink dusted Angewomon's pale cheeks. She averted her eyes, suddenly shy. "No... it is only what I should do... for you."
As she spoke, the brilliant holy aura surrounding her shifted. Shadows pooled at her feet, spiraling upward to envelop her angelic form. In a fluid transition of data, the light inverted into darkness, and she settled back into the familiar, gothic silhouette of LadyDevimon.
The DigiDestined watched this casual, effortless shift between light and dark with wide eyes. Subconsciously, seven pairs of eyes shifted toward their own Digimon partners.
Taichi crouched down. "Hey, Agumon, can you transform back and forth as freely as Mizuki's partner?"
Agumon, who had just exhausted himself devolving from Greymon, blinked his large green eyes in blank confusion. He tilted his head, clearly having no idea how to accomplish such a feat. Yet, faced with Taichi's sparkling, expectant gaze, the little orange dinosaur puffed out his chest and patted it confidently.
"Hmm! I will try my absolute best, Taichi!"
"Yeah! I know you can do it!"
Swept up in a sudden burst of enthusiasm, Taichi grabbed Agumon's claws. Right there in the middle of the battered clearing, the boy and his dinosaur began to perform a highly energetic, utterly bizarre synchronized dance.
The rest of the children watched the ridiculous spectacle with deadpan expressions, collectively sighing at their unofficial leader's antics. Still, the heavy, suffocating tension that had lingered after the brutal battle finally dissolved, replaced by a much-needed wave of levity.
Mizuki, however, watched the goofy display with a sudden spark of recognition. He blinked, a wave of nostalgia hitting him out of nowhere.
That bizarre, rhythmic shuffling... wasn't that the exact victory dance Taichi and his Veedramon partner, Zeromaru, performed in the Digimon V-Tamer 01 manga?
Back in his previous life, Mizuki had been a massive fan of the original anime adventure. When the direct sequel aired, he had found himself deeply disappointed by the shifting tones and character directions. That frustration had pushed him away from the later animated series, driving him to dive deep into the franchise's expanded lore, encyclopedias, and manga adaptations instead. The V-Tamer storyline, which predated the anime entirely, had left a lasting impression on him.
A wild thought crossed his mind. Was it possible that this specific Agumon possessed the evolutionary potential to become a Veedramon? Would he eventually become the legendary Zeromaru?
Mizuki kept his expression neutral, though his mind raced with the possibilities. There were too many variables to be certain.
One thing was absolute: the butterfly effect was already in full swing. Because Kari had joined the summer camp and crossed over into the Digital World from the very beginning, Taichi's entire behavioral pattern had shifted. He was still brave, but his reckless streak was tempered by a fierce, cautious instinct to protect his little sister. His overall demeanor felt brighter, more grounded.
Speaking of Kari...
Mizuki let his gaze drift casually toward the young girl standing near her brother. She was just as petite and delicate as he remembered from the television screen, but there was a crucial difference. Her cheeks held a healthy, rosy hue. Her breathing was steady, her eyes bright and alert.
In the original timeline, Kari's chronic childhood illnesses and frail constitution were heavily implied to be the physical toll of being possessed by Homeostasis, the digital entity acting as the will of the Digital World. Yet, the Kari standing before him practically radiated good health.
The implications hit Mizuki like a physical blow.
If Kari was perfectly healthy, that meant Homeostasis had never used her as a vessel. Without that immense strain on her physical body, she had never fallen sick, which was exactly why she had been able to attend the fateful summer camp alongside the others.
Mizuki pieced the scattered clues together, a cold realization settling in his chest. He turned his analytical focus inward.
If Homeostasis had bypassed Kari entirely... did that mean he was the substitute?
After all, his very existence in this world was an anomaly. There was no 'Mizuki' in the original destiny of the DigiDestined. He was a foreign variable.
But as quickly as the theory formed, he found holes in it. It did not make logical sense. He possessed no Digivice. He had no Crest. By all established rules of this universe, he was not a Chosen Child. He was just a guy who had woken up in a strange forest with a terrifyingly powerful partner.
His train of thought hit a solid brick wall. The clues dried up, leaving him with nothing but frustrating dead ends. He let out a quiet, measured breath, forcing the tension from his shoulders. Dwelling on unanswerable questions would only waste energy he might need to survive the next ambush.
Across the clearing, the adrenaline that had been keeping the children upright finally began to crash. The sheer mental and physical exhaustion of fighting for their lives washed over them like a heavy tide.
A loud, unmistakable growl echoed in the quiet air.
Mimi clutched her stomach, her shoulders slumping in utter defeat. "Speaking of which... does anyone else feel like they are starving to death?"
Izzy adjusted his laptop strap, looking equally drained. "We have been running and fighting all day. We have not had a single moment to stop and eat."
"Yeah, my stomach is completely empty," Taichi agreed, exchanging a tired glance with the red-haired boy before turning to check on Kari.
Mizuki watched the exhausted group for a moment before shifting his attention to the caretaker of the Primary Village. "Elecmon, could I trouble you to find some food for these kids?"
"I would have done it even if you had not asked!" Elecmon replied, his tails swishing cheerfully. "Not only are they the legendary Chosen Children, but they also risked their lives to protect the Village of Beginnings. It is only right that we treat our heroes to a proper feast!"
"A real Digimon meal?" Mimi's eyes lit up, her previous exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Beside her, little Takeru bounced on his heels, a bright smile breaking across his face.
Matt, however, crossed his arms, his protective instincts flaring up. He eyed the surrounding digital flora with deep skepticism. "Hold on. Can human stomachs actually digest what Digimon eat?"
Joe pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking thoroughly anxious. "It should... be fine, right? I mean, biologically speaking, we do not even know the molecular structure of this world's organic matter..." He trailed off, glancing nervously at Mizuki. The older boy had clearly been surviving in this bizarre environment long before they arrived.
"Oh, relax, you guys!" Taichi clapped Joe on the back, nearly sending the older boy stumbling forward. "Isn't it obvious? If the food was poisonous or something, Mizuki wouldn't have suggested it."
Kari stepped out from behind her brother, offering a polite, deeply respectful bow to both the older boy and the electric mammal. "Mizuki, Elecmon, thank you both so much for taking care of us."
"It is nothing, little one. No need to be so formal," Elecmon said, waving a small, clawed paw dismissively. He then looked up at Matt and Joe. "Actually, your concerns are not entirely unfounded. While it is perfectly safe for humans to consume our food, the raw ingredients can be... an acquired taste. Unless you find a Digimon who has specifically mastered the art of cooking, most of our natural forage might taste incredibly strange to your human palates."
Elecmon's grin widened, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "However, you do not need to worry about any of that anymore. Not since Mizuki arrived."
At Elecmon's declaration, seven pairs of expectant eyes snapped directly toward Mizuki.
Mizuki blinked, entirely caught off guard. 'Excuse me?'
Izzy tapped his chin, a look of deep realization crossing his face. "Ah. I see..."
Taichi looked at him, bewildered. "See what? Do you know something about his cooking, Izzy?"
Izzy adjusted his laptop bag, speaking with the absolute certainty of a scholar presenting a proven thesis. "Taichi, have you forgotten? Mizuki is from China. The culinary culture there is globally recognized as top-tier. There is even a famous saying on the internet: 'Not everyone from China knows martial arts, but absolutely every single one of them knows how to cook a masterpiece.'"
"Exactly! Exactly!" Mimi chimed in, clapping her hands together. "Chinese food is amazing! Whenever my parents take me on vacation to America, we always make sure to stop by Chinatown for dinner. The flavors are incredible!"
As Izzy and Mimi enthusiastically hyped up his supposed culinary pedigree, the rest of the children—who had previously been dreading the idea of eating strange digital berries—suddenly looked at Mizuki as if he were a Michelin-star chef descending from the heavens. Their mouths were practically watering.
Standing at the center of their intense, starving gazes, Mizuki felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. A wry, helpless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Look, just a heads-up," Mizuki sighed, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I am just an average guy who knows how to not burn water. If you build up your expectations to the stratosphere, do not blame me when you end up disappointed, okay?"
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