Chapter 56: Taichi: I Want to Dye This Thing Green!
"Mastemon?"
Hearing the unfamiliar name roll off Mizuki's tongue, Nyaromon tilted her head, her large eyes blinking with a sudden surge of curiosity.
"Mizuki, is this Mastemon you mentioned really that powerful? How does she compare to my BeelStarmon form?"
Mizuki chuckled, his fingers gently stroking the soft fur behind her ears. "Well... in terms of pure, raw strength, Mastemon definitely outclasses a standard BeelStarmon."
He paused, a sly glint catching in his eyes as he shifted his tone. "But then again, possessing the 'Final Mode,' you can hardly be classified as an ordinary BeelStarmon, can you?"
In the Digital World, the sheer volume of data a Digimon possessed usually dictated their baseline strength. However, whether or not they wielded a conceptual 'Authority' determined their absolute ceiling.
"Mastemon's immense power doesn't just come from her inherent data," Mizuki explained, his voice taking on a quiet, analytical edge. "She relies heavily on the Authority she holds over time and space."
He looked down at the small creature resting in his lap. "And your Final Mode just so happens to be the ultimate bane of all Authority."
A trace of deep, unmistakable pride bled into Mizuki's voice.
Belfast Beast: Final End Mode.
It was a game-breaking existence. Just by laying eyes on an opponent, she could completely deconstruct, analyze, and effortlessly master their techniques—even their divine powers. Against such an absolute cheat ability, even the most legendary, world-ending forces like Omnimon X's "All Delete" or Alphamon's "Alpha inForce" could be seized and weaponized.
The only reason she didn't wield those apocalyptic powers right now was simply that she hadn't crossed paths with them yet. The moment she did, Belfast Beast: Final End Mode would claim them without fail.
Mizuki leaned back against the trunk of a nearby digital tree, a dry, amused smile touching his lips. When he had first crossed over into this bizarre, dangerous world, he had braced himself for a grueling, desperate struggle for survival. He had fully expected his journey to be paved with blood and narrow escapes.
But reality had a funny way of subverting expectations.
He had startled awake from a deathbed illness in his previous life, only to realize—Wait, I'm the final boss now?
With Little Bel's current terrifying strength, even the dreaded Dark Masters would likely find themselves batted around like helpless soccer balls. As for the likes of Etemon, Myotismon, and their ilk... Mizuki could only offer a silent prayer for their continued health. They would certainly need it.
"Isn't that perfectly normal?"
Nyaromon's soft, chiming voice broke through his thoughts. She shifted comfortably in the crook of his arm, blinking her bright eyes before affectionately nuzzling her cheek against his palm.
"Final Mode was born from the bond between me and you, Mizuki. So, of course, it's the strongest!"
She didn't care in the slightest that Mastemon was stronger than an ordinary BeelStarmon. After all, that was just a regular BeelStarmon. What did some generic demon lord have to do with her, the one and only Belfast Beast: Final End Mode?
The strongest, huh...
Looking down at the adorable, fiercely loyal partner curled up in his arms, Mizuki remained silent for a long moment. The corners of his mouth slowly lifted into a warm, genuine smile.
Given his naturally laid-back and peaceful personality, he wasn't usually the type to throw around arrogant claims like 'the strongest.' But right now, looking at her...
"Yes, Little Bel. You're absolutely right." He scratched her chin, earning a happy purr. "As long as we're together, we are the strongest."
Besides, he thought, his inner troll surfacing, there's no harm in a human changing his mind once in a while.
"Alright." Mizuki stood up, carefully cradling Nyaromon against his chest. He brushed the digital dust from his trousers and looked out toward the distant shoreline. "It should be just about ready."
"Mizuki?"
"The boat Taichi and the others are responsible for building," he explained, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "The one we need to cross the ocean to the Server Continent. Judging by the time, they should be nearing completion. Let's go over and check on their progress."
Nyaromon snuggled deeper into his jacket. "Mhm! As long as I'm with you, Mizuki, I don't care where we go."
----
----
Much like the trajectory of the original timeline, the children had scoured File Island and found no concrete way back to their own world. Following Aegiochusmon's advice, they decided their best bet was to cross the vast digital ocean and seek answers on the much larger Server Continent.
Naturally, crossing an ocean required a vessel.
However, because Mizuki was here to guide them, the children hadn't hastily lashed together a flimsy, suicidal raft of logs and vines. Instead, under Mizuki's strict instructions, they had raided the Factory Town on File Island, scavenging for proper blueprints, mechanical knowledge, and durable materials before setting out to construct a genuinely reliable boat.
As Mizuki strolled closer to the makeshift shipyard on the beach, the silhouette of their creation gradually came into view.
Aesthetically, it looked like a small, slightly battered fishing vessel from the real world. It carried an indescribable air of crudeness—crooked metal plates, mismatched rivets, and a hull that looked like a patchwork quilt of scrap iron.
Yet, even in this rough state, it represented a monumental expenditure of the children's time and energy. They had only managed to pull this off thanks to the heavy lifting of their Digimon partners and the highly malleable, data-driven physics of the Digital World. If they had been forced to rely solely on their own human capabilities, these kids would have been hammering away on this beach for years.
As Mizuki approached the hull, the sound of bickering drifted over the sand. He spotted Taichi and Matt standing near the bow, locked in a heated argument.
The moment Taichi caught sight of Mizuki, his frustrated scowl vanished. His face lit up with absolute salvation. Abandoning a clearly irritated Matt, the goggle-wearing boy sprinted across the sand.
"Mizuki! Mizuki! You're finally here!"
Mizuki offered a mild smile, side-stepping slightly to avoid getting tackled. "Taichi. The progress looks quite good. Did you run into any unexpected issues?"
"No, not really." Taichi shook his head, though his brow furrowed in annoyance.
He clearly remembered Mizuki's earlier theory: whoever—or whatever—had dragged them into this digital dimension ought to have provided an 'NPC' guide to point them in the right direction. Yet, throughout their entire grueling stay on File Island, no such figure had ever shown up.
"That's why I'm saying the guy who brought us to this world is seriously unreliable," Taichi complained, kicking at the sand. "If it weren't for you, Mizuki, I don't even want to think about how much we would have suffered by now."
The other children, who had gathered around upon seeing Mizuki arrive, nodded in vigorous, almost solemn agreement.
Hearing their absolute faith in him, Mizuki kept his expression perfectly neutral, though internally, he was muttering up a storm.
Seriously, what is going on? Where is Old Man Gennai? The supposed emissary of Homeostasis?
They were literally on the verge of leaving File Island for the Server Continent. Why hadn't the old man made his grand holographic appearance yet?
There's no way he actually got captured by Apocalymon and handed over to the Dark Masters to play 'Dimensional Road,' right?
Just as Mizuki was busy internally roasting the absentee guide, Taichi clapped his hands together, suddenly remembering his previous frustration. "Oh, right! Mizuki!"
"Hmm?"
"I almost forgot. You need to settle this dispute for us!"
Under Mizuki's questioning gaze, Taichi grabbed his sleeve and dragged him over to Matt—or rather, toward the patchwork fishing boat looming behind the blonde boy.
Sensing Mizuki's deadpan stare, Matt didn't even bother arguing. He just crossed his arms, let out a long, exhausted sigh, and gestured vaguely at Taichi.
"Let that idiot tell you about it himself," Matt muttered, turning on his heel and walking away to join Takeru by the supplies.
Taichi ignored Matt's retreating back. He puffed out his chest, pointing dramatically at the metal hull of the fishing boat, and turned to Mizuki with eyes full of burning expectation.
"Mizuki, I know you're my good friend," Taichi began, his tone dripping with unearned confidence. "Unlike a stubborn blockhead like Matt, you're smart. You'll definitely understand my vision, right?"
As he spoke, Taichi spread his arms wide, framing the rusty, mismatched boat as if he were unveiling a masterpiece to the world.
"I want to paint this entire thing—green!"
Mizuki stared at him. "..."
The ocean breeze blew past them, carrying the sound of crashing waves.
Mizuki blinked slowly. "Huh?"
Looking at the fiercely proud, expectant grin plastered across Taichi's face, Mizuki felt a rare shred of genuine bewilderment pierce through his usual calm. He stood in silence for a long moment, processing the sheer absurdity of the request.
"Uh... Taichi?"
"Yeah?" Taichi beamed.
"Do you, by any chance, have a distant relative named 'Liu Xing'?"
Taichi's grin faltered. He blinked, tilting his head in utter confusion. "What shooting star? What are you talking about, Mizuki? Why are we talking about the sky?"
Mizuki didn't bother explaining the sitcom reference. He merely sighed, ignoring Taichi's baffled gaze, and raised a hand, waving toward a small figure standing a few yards away.
Kari noticed his gesture and obediently trotted over, her small shoes crunching softly against the sand.
Once she arrived, Mizuki placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her forward until she was standing directly in front of her older brother.
"Taichi, here," Mizuki said, his voice completely flat and devoid of mercy. "This is for you."
Taichi stared at his sister. "Uh... what?"
"This is the Super Little Sister," Mizuki declared with absolute deadpan sincerity. "With her by your side, you can cure absolutely any brain disease. I suggest you start the treatment immediately."
Taichi's jaw dropped. "?!"
He stared blankly at Mizuki, his brain short-circuiting as the insult finally registered. Just as his face flushed red and he opened his mouth to protest, Kari let out a helpless little sigh and grabbed his hand, pulling him aside.
"Be good, Big Brother," Kari said softly, patting his arm with the practiced patience of someone dealing with a toddler. "Deciding what color to paint the boat is something we should definitely leave to Brother Mizuki."
"Wait... Kari... I—You—" Taichi stammered, looking utterly betrayed as his own sister dragged him away from his green-painted dreams.
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