Digital Dawn: Heroes of the Digital-Scape

by RoseMetalBlack

Ripped from their world, Nyaromon and Pokomon awaken in the My Hero Academia universe, lost but determined. As they explore the vast Digital-Scape, they uncover a growing threat—one that blurs the line between the digital and real worlds. (i am posting this here as well as A03)

2. Chapter 2: Finding home

Digital-Scape, one week later

It had been a week since Pokomon and Nyaromon were torn from their home and thrust into a strange new reality. The initial shock had given way to a relentless drive to survive and find a way back to their world.

The two Digimon had spent the past week exploring various data structures, and learning more about the peculiar world they found themselves in. As they delved deeper into these networks, the scale of their predicament began to sink in as none of the networks they had visited had any information on how they could get back home.

They had also learned that each network they accessed was different, some reflected the place in the human world they were connected to like offices or banks. Some networks were massive, sprawling with information. Others were smaller, more personal, revealing glimpses into the lives of the humans who owned them.

One such personal network, they had discovered, belonged to a man who seemed to lack respect for others as his network reflected that by looking like what the humans call a brothel. All the data they sifted through was cluttered with females at various angles or states of undress, some taken without their knowledge others looked to have been taken with lack of their personal space by the looks of disgust on their faces. Pokomon and Nyaromon hoped this man didn't have any offspring.

Now at the current moment the two Digimon found themselves sitting in the middle of the large walkway surrounded by more large data structures, nibbling on some scrap data they got from the scrap yard.

While Pokomon was focused on the data packet they had snatched from the villain's network, carefully sifting through corrupted files and fragmented information, Nyaromon was beside her, poring over a holographic map in an attempt to determine their location. During one of their recent explorations in another network, they had spotted a data stream siphoning something from its system. Curiosity piqued, they decided to trace it back to its source, hoping it might lead them to something useful.

"Based on the map, it looks like we're in Kamino Ward of Japan," Nyaromon said, glancing up at the data stream overhead. "I hope this data we're following will be able to help us."

Pokomon looked up from her work with a sigh. "It's not like we've found anything useful so far. None of the humans even know what a Digimon is, or have heard of our world."

"It wouldn't hurt to take a look anyway," Nyaromon added with a small, determined smile. "Either way, we can't ignore it."

"Agreed," Pokomon nodded, turning back to the data packet only to see more data deteriorate from it. She sighed in frustration. "This data packet is a mess. The hurried retreat from that crazy doctor's dying computer system left it incomplete, and now the data is just a jumbled mess."

Nyaromon hopped over to Pokomon's side, looking over the packet as well, her spherical body wobbling in agreement. "It's useless as it stands. We can't make sense of it or get any useful information out of it."

Pokomon continued to scrutinize the data, using her tail to scroll through more of the packet's hollow screen. The screen flickered with fuzzy, glitching videos of the doctor, shrouded in the shadows of his facility, working on what she assumed was a human. The notes he made had entire sections scrambled and unreadable, but a few words stood out: "failure," "deceased," and "Nomu." It was clear he wasn't far along in his project.

In a moment of frustration, Pokomon hit the data packet, sending it sliding across the walkway and down a descending pathway.

Freaking out, Pokomon bolted after the packet, with Nyaromon following closely behind. "Why did you do that!?" Nyaromon called out.

Pokomon, not slowing down, shouted back, "We've been working on this data packet for days while traveling this place and all we know from it is that he was working on humans and turning them into something."

As they reached the end of the descending walkway, they spotted the data packet now fritzing out even more. Nyaromon went to go pick it up, Nyaromon figured that it was even more broken now than before. In frustration nyaromon turned to pokomon not looking up from the broken data "look at what you did now i don't think we can get anything from this or at the very least it will take more time to fix the broken data."

When nyaromon did Not hear anything from pokomon nyaromon looked up, noticing that pokomon was staring at very gate they had been looking for.

Shaking her head nyaromon looked at the gate with pokomon, this particular gate had what looked like a very formidable locks on it, suggesting it was guarding a very important network. They walked up to the locks and inspected them closely.

They saw that the gate had one big lock followed by several smaller locks with intersecting chains. The gate itself was a bigger mystery, with multiple data streams spanning out of it with the one they followed. The closest data stream looked like it was interacting with another gate across the walkway, forcing its way in just like the other network.

Nyaromon turned to Pokomon, "Well we found it let's check it out."

Pokomon noded its body in agreement. "Yeah, let's attack the smaller locks first, then tackle the bigger lock together."

they began their assault on the gate, both of them concentrating their attacks at the smaller locks. The digital code of the locks held for a bit before it started splintering and eventually disintegrating into data. One by one, the smaller locks fell apart under their combined efforts.

Finally, they turned their attention to the large central lock. Gathering their strength, they launched a combined attack. The heavy lock resisted at first, but under their relentless assault, it began to crack and splinter, eventually shattering into pieces as well.

The gate slid open illuminating the area infront of it, the two looked to eachother and they stepped through, their forms turning into data and transferring to a new location.

Once formed in the new network, they took stock of their new environment. It was starkly different from the other networks they have seen, which meant it was a personal network.

The walls of the network were steel gray as it felt dreary and dark the walkway that led to several hallways that ended with a door, each they thought would potentially lead to valuable information of this network hoping to find out what the data streams outside were siphoning. They walked to one of the doors and opened it, finding multiple files within.

Opening one of the files, a video started to play, showing a police officer taking bribes, another was a hero threatening businesses for protection money, and the last one they saw was a high school teacher blackmailing a female student for sexual favors. with a nod to each other the two got to looking through everything they can.

A Few Hours Later

Nyaromon examined the information they had gathered from various folders within the network, which acted like rooms. Thankfully, the folders were labeled: the first room they entered was the blackmail folder. There were also extortion and slave trade folders, which Nyaromon had cautiously compiled into a data packet, unsure of what to do with it.

As they continued deeper into the network, they eventually found the hub. Upon entering, they were met with a multitude of surveillance software already active, displaying feeds that seemed to be grabbing camera footage from a large part of the surrounding area, probably covering three, maybe four prefectures.

The two Digimon walked closer to the central pillar, opening it and beginning to skim through any information they could find about the place and its purpose.

"This seems to be some kind of illegal security network," Nyaromon observed, noting the icons and data streams labeled with security-related terms. "It looks like it taps into other stores' surveillance systems, probably through wiretapping. That must be what those data streams at the security door were connected to."

Pokomon nodded, looking at the hub's internal files. "According to the files in this network, it was a very profitable business but was shut down because it was run by a villain who used Lackeys and these surveillance systems to do blackmail and other villainous activities. The authorities took him down two weeks ago by all might, some other heroes and the local police force in the area where the building is untouched as the boss gave himself up."

Nyaromon backed away from the surveillance system to look around, intrigued. "And despite the city shutting down the power, the building is still running. You think there's an underground secondary electrical source."

Pokomon looked at Nyaromon. "That's probably the case, but I think we can use this as our home for now. I don't think we can find a better place, and at least we can watch what is happening on the outside."

Nyaromon nodded its body. "Yeah, that sounds good. Let's look over the surveillance of the building, see if there are any immediate threats to our new home while we eat. Maybe we can catch a glimpse of the generator that's keeping this place going."

Pokomon chuckled. "Good idea." A grumble was heard from Pokomon, causing them both to chuckle. "Let's gather some data. We've found some large data files that won't set off the security system so let's eat them and get settled in."

As they began to eat and go over the surveillance system, they discovered that the cover establishment above was a nightclub bar with an underground facility dedicated to illegal surveillance and shady business deals.

The second issue was that the camera in the generator room had short-circuited, so they couldn't see inside it. Although it wasn't a big concern since they could see the generator's battery life within the hub.

This raised their concerns about what might be powering the building and whether it could be a potential threat but at the moment it was not an immediate concern.

As they were fishing up their food Pokomon sparked a new idea. "Do you think we could buy the bar, you know, use it for our own ends?"

Nyaromon, still focused on the digital monitors displaying the bar's modest interior, responded thoughtfully. "That could work. It would give us a legitimate front for our activities and a way to interact with the outside world without drawing too much suspicion."

She then turned to face Pokomon fully. "But there's one big problem—we have no way to interact with the human world or how to communicate with them directly. How about the fact that we do not have any currency to acquire the bar or the process to acquire it."

Pokomon, deep in thought, nodded slowly. "You're right, we need to solve those problems first. But there might be a way to get a head start on acquiring the bar, even if we can't do it right away."

She turned her attention back to the digital console, her tail swiping across the interface. After a half hour of searching, her eyes brightened as she spotted a potential solution to one problem.

"Look at this, Nyaromon," Pokomon said, pointing to a section of the screen. "I found some information on police auctions. It turns out they list seized properties on certain government websites, and the auctions are usually held a few weeks after the raid."

Nyaromon hopped closer, intrigued. "So we might have a window of time to prepare if the bar goes up for auction."

"Exactly," Pokomon confirmed. "We still need to figure out how to get the funds and credentials, but at least now we know when and where the auction might happen. It's a step in the right direction."

Nyaromon, inspired by Pokomon's discovery, created another digital console to dig deeper into the data they had already accessed. Her tail flicked as she sifted through encrypted files and hidden directories.

After several minutes of searching, she found something unusual—a hidden note buried deep within the boss's personal email, recently sent out to his lackeys but still saved in the system.

"Pokomon, take a look at this," Nyaromon called out, her voice tinged with excitement.

Pokomon walked over, peering at the screen as Nyaromon pulled up the note. It detailed plans for an emergency stash of funds the boss intended to use for bail if things went south and some "master" couldn't save him.

Pokomon's eyes gleamed with mischief as she read the note. "So, he's got a hidden stash for emergencies, huh? Perfect."

Nyaromon nodded, already seeing where Pokomon was going with this. "If we can locate the bank account used for those emergency funds and transfer them to a secure account of our own, we could use them to acquire the bar—right under his nose."

"It's risky, but it could work," Pokomon agreed, returning to her console, her tail swiping across the interface to begin the process of tracing the location of the emergency funds. "We'll need to be quick, but if we pull this off, we'll have the resources we need to make the bar ours."

Nyaromon grinned, her eyes gleaming with determination. "Then let's get to work. We have a bar to buy."

A few days later

The two Digimon had been hard at work, training and meticulously poring over files. While Pokomon delved into the bar's and its owner's illegal business records, searching for the hidden emergency account, Nyaromon ventured into one of the local banks. There, she crafted fake bank accounts and identities for them, posing as sisters with transformative mutant Quirks.

As a digital entity, Nyaromon could easily slip past the attention of both banks and government security systems, making their infiltration seamless.

After multiple extended excursions into the Digital-Scape, Nyaromon returned, looking visibly tired. Pokomon, who had been deeply engrossed in her file search, noticed her return and called out, "Nyaromon, come over here! I think I found something."

Curious, Nyaromon hopped over to Pokomon, who had a file open labeled "Hot Redhead." Confused, Nyaromon glanced at Pokomon. "Why are you looking at what I can only figure is porn?"

Pokomon chuckled and replied, "Because it's not. It was buried deep within the porn folder, way in the back. I was going to leave it alone, but I thought, 'Maybe he hides important files in places no one would want to look.' So, I went in. To my horror, most of it was porn—the worst kind—but when I opened this one, it wasn't porn. It was bank statements and personal information, in case he forgot his passwords."

Even more curious now, Nyaromon examined the file and found that it indeed carried detailed information about the bar's former owner.

Nyaromon read aloud, "The owner's name is Kenji Sato, and it looks like he did make a secret second account that he was planning to use to bail himself out."

Pokomon's smile widened. "The idiot even kept his information in the file. Now we can open his account and liquidate the funds. Then, he'll be unable to bail himself out."

Nyaromon's eyes sparkled with excitement as she immediately brought up the banking website Kenji used, displaying it on the hub's personal screen. She scrutinized the account, her tail flicking with anticipation.

"This account has more than enough funds to cover the purchase of the bar and still have a substantial amount left. He must have been running his illegal operations for a long time to accumulate this much." Nyaromon looked to Pokomon. "If we transfer the money to the account we just made, we can secure our base and fund our activities."

Pokomon agreed, still fixated on the screen. "I'll handle the transfer, but we need to be extremely careful. We have to make sure we cover our tracks to avoid detection." Pokomon's gaze remained steady on the computer as she began typing rapidly. "Nyaromon, get over to the bank's personal network and be ready to erase Kenji's account after the transfer is complete."

"Right," Nyaromon nodded and started to make her way to the exit of their home, heading towards the local bank's network.

Once Nyaromon reached the bank's network, she created a secure connection back to their base, sharing her vision with Pokomon so they could coordinate the operation. Pokomon, now seeing through Nyaromon's perspective, initiated the transfer sequence.

Pokomon first accessed Kenji's secret account using the credentials they had uncovered. The banking system required a two-factor authentication, but Nyaromon was already prepared for this. She intercepted the authentication code as it was sent to Kenji's device, rerouting it to their console. Pokomon quickly entered the code, gaining full access to the account.

"Got it," Pokomon said, her voice tense with focus. She then began the process of transferring the funds. "I'm setting up a series of disguised transfers to make it look like the money is being used for regular transactions. We'll move the funds into our newly created account, but in smaller, staggered amounts to avoid raising any red flags."

As the funds were transferred from Kenji's account, Pokomon carefully routed the transactions through various internal bank systems, masking them as routine payments and deposits.

She made sure each transfer appeared as part of normal banking activity, blending in with other transactions to avoid drawing attention.

"Now, I'm initiating the final transfer to our primary account," Pokomon said, watching the screen closely. "Once it's done, we'll be able to use the funds to buy the bar."

Meanwhile, Nyaromon was monitoring the bank's security systems, ready to act at a moment's notice. As soon as Pokomon confirmed the final transfer, Nyaromon executed her part of the plan.

She accessed Kenji's account directly through the bank's internal network and began the deletion process. "I'm wiping out all traces of Kenji's personal account now," Nyaromon reported.

She meticulously erased transaction records, login histories, and any residual data that could point back to Kenji's account. Once she confirmed that the deletion was complete, she initiated a system-wide clean-up protocol that effectively overwrote the deleted data with random sequences, making recovery impossible.

However, as Nyaromon completed the erasure, she triggered the bank's security alert system. Alarms blared within the digital network, and a flurry of security protocols began to activate. "I've set off their security!" Nyaromon warned. "I'm getting out of here!"

Pokomon watched through Nyaromon's vision as she quickly disengaged from the bank's network, narrowly avoiding capture by the automated security measures.she sighed in relief when she saw nyaromon leave though the banks exit and was making her way back.

Cutting off the shared vision, Pokomon closed the connection with the bank, ensuring no traces were left behind. "That was close," Pokomon said, exhaling in relief as she watched Nyaromon appear from the hub's entrance.

"We did it," Nyaromon said, still catching her breath from the running. "The funds are ours, and Kenji's account is gone. He'll have no way to bail himself out now."

Pokomon nodded, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. "Now, we can proceed with acquiring the bar and setting up our operations. We've just taken a big step forward."

Pokomon grinned as she continued. "as it's already been three weeks since they seized the place and the auction is set to start tomorrow so let's go over our plans for tomorrow.

Nyaromon, still looking a bit pensive, hopped closer and said, "There's just one problem we haven't addressed yet. We don't have any way to physically attend the auction or interact with the human world directly. How are we supposed to handle that part of the process?"

Pokomon's expression shifted to thoughtful contemplation. "You're right, we need a way to participate in the auction if we want to ensure the bar is secured. We can't just rely on digital methods alone for this."

Nyaromon nodded, adding, "We might need to find a way to use a human intermediary or create some sort of digital presence that can interact with the auction in a more physical sense."

Pokomon tapped her chin, considering their options. "Let's brainstorm how we can tackle this. We might need to partner with someone who can act on our behalf or look into any virtual bidding options if available. We'll need to act quickly to ensure we're ready for the auction tomorrow."

A few hours later

It was late at night as Nyaromon and Pokomon were busy finalizing their plans for the auction, a sudden alert from the surveillance system caught their attention.

One of the cameras showed an altercation taking place in an alleyway a few blocks away from the bar. A group of thugs was harassing a young woman, and it was clear she was in danger.

Nyaromon's eyes widened in alarm. "Pokomon,what do we do! Those thugs are attacking someone, and there are no cops or heroes around to help."

Pokomon clenched its jaw, eyes darting between the surveillance feeds. "I don't know. I'm checking the other camera feeds to see if there are any heroes nearby who might intervene, but it looks like we're on our own."

Nyaromon's worry increased as the thugs continued their advance. "We could try forming ourselves out of the network. I know we haven't had a chance to test it yet or if it will even work, but we need to act quickly."

Pokomon hesitated, spoke after a moment. "Alright, let's do it. But how do we even do that?"

Nyaromon took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "We need to focus on the camera that's showing the attack. We'll use it as our point of exit. I've read about some basic principles of crossing between digital planes back home. It involves channeling our digital energy through a node—like this camera. We'll use the camera's connection to anchor ourselves and then transfer out."

Pokomon nodded slowly, her eyes following Nyaromon's lead. "Alright, let's try it. We'll concentrate on the camera feed and channel our energy through it."

With a plan of action set, Pokomon and Nyaromon concentrated, channeling their digital energy into the camera overlooking the thugs. The camera feed began to flicker and distort as their energy infused it.

They felt a strong pull, a sensation of being drawn through a tunnel of shifting data.

Instinctively, they allowed themselves to be pulled out.

At the location, the camera shimmered and warped as the boundary between the Digital-Scape and the real world began to blur. This marked the beginning of their first Bio-Emergence, as they prepared to intervene in the physical world for the first time.

(The criminals perspective )

The alleyway was enveloped in the silence of the late night hours, with only the occasional scuffle of a rat or distant hum of the city breaking the monotony.

The street lights flickered intermittently, casting erratic shadows that danced on the walls and pavement. The scene was tense, marked by the presence of several burly figures advancing on a terrified woman.

The thugs' faces obscured by the dim light, were pressing their advantage.

The first thug, a tall, muscular man with a mutation quirk that granted him an Ankylosaurus tail, stepped forward menacingly. "Just give us the purse and your valuables, miss. I don't want someone to get hurt." With a powerful swing of his tail, he smashed a nearby dumpster, leaving a deep dent and causing a loud clang that echoed through the alley.

The woman whimpered, clutching her purse tightly. "Please, I just want to go home," she pleaded, thrusting the purse towards him.

The thug took two steps closer, his menacing grin widening. "Maybe we have another use for you." His gaze was lecherous and threatening, sending shivers down the woman's spine.

Seeing the look in his eyes, the woman's fear intensified. She started to back up, pulling her purse back to her chest, tears started streaming down her face "no…" she whispered, looking away, resigned to her fate.

As the thugs continued their advance, the streetlights above began to flicker, becoming more erratic by the second. One of the men, a thug with a rat-like face, glanced up nervously. "What's with the damn lights?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

The lights were not just flickering intermittently but blinking erratically in a disturbing pattern,casting long, shifting shadows on the walls making the alley appear even more sinister. The rat-faced thug looked back at the third and final thug in the alley, a burly man with a scar across his face. "Stop that, Nori, you're freaking me out!"

Nori, who had been squinting up at the lights, shook his head. "It isn't me. I swear."

Their fear grew as the flickering lights became more intense, the air growing colder. A thick, unsettling fog began to roll in from the edges of the alley, obscuring their view and adding to the eerie atmosphere. The woman, her eyes wide with terror, watched as the fog thickened, engulfing the alley in an otherworldly mist.

The thugs, their bravado crumbling, tried to make sense of the situation. The dense fog made it nearly impossible to see each other. The rat-faced thug attempted to call out, but his voice was swallowed by the thickening fog. "What the hell is happening?" His voice quivered with fear.

When the fog finally began to clear, the thugs saw something bizarre: two small, spherical creatures standing at the entrance of the alley. They were the size of soccer balls, glowing with an otherworldly light that seemed to dissipate as the fog lifted. Their features were barely discernible in the dim, flickering light.

The thugs looked at each other, then back at the creatures. There was a moment of silence before they all burst into laughter.

"Hahahahahahhahaha! All that buildup only for some snot-nosed brats," the rat-faced thug sneered, his laughter echoing through the alley. He pointed at the creatures, assuming they were kids with mutant quirks.

"You had us going with the lights and fog, but you better leave now before you get hurt." His pointed fingernail extended several inches, becoming a dangerous weapon.

The thugs advanced menacingly, their confidence momentarily restored. However, the woman, seizing her chance, took a cautious step back, hoping to slip away amidst the confusion. The creatures, undeterred, readied themselves to fight.

"We said Get lost, you little pests," growling in irritation, the thug with the Ankylosaurus tail ran forward ahead of the other two and swung his massive tail toward Nyaromon, aiming to swat it away like an annoying insect.

Nyaromon nimbly dodged the attack, rolling out of the way just in time. "Pokomon, we need to distract them to give time for the women to escape!" it called out, its voice trembling slightly as it continued to dodge the mutant's massive tail.

Pokomon nodded, its small body charging towards the rat faced thug.

Said rat-faced thug smirked and lunged forward as well, extending his sharp fingernails toward Pokomon. "You're gonna regret standing up to us!" he yelled.

Pokomon saw the attack coming and used its signature attack "Sesshouseki" she called out. transforming her body into stone at the last moment and spewing a noxious poison into the thug's face. The thug's nails grazed Pokomon's stone side, breaking one of his nails but only leaving a shallow cut. Pokomon winced from the impact but retaliated with a swift headbutt to the thug's head, knocking him back a step.

The rat-faced thug, now holding his face in pain, coughed as the effects of the poison began to take hold. The alley seemed to spin around him, disorienting him further. Desperately, he shook his head, trying to clear his vision, but was met with another headbutt to the stomach. Enraged, he swiped at Pokomon with renewed fury, his attacks becoming more frenzied and wild.

The thug with the Ankylosaurus tail roared in frustration as Nyaromon continued to dart and dodge, waiting for the right moment to strike. That moment arrived when the mutant swung his tail once more, narrowly missing Nyaromon by a hair. The tail slammed again into the nearby dumpster wrecking it further while embedding itself and getting stuck.

Seizing the opportunity, Nyaromon retaliated with her signature move, "Fox Tail." Her tail puffed up, transforming the hairs into sharp, wire-like strands. She lashed out, the hairs slicing across the mutant's face and leaving deep lacerations on his forehead.

The thug staggered back, blood dripping over his right eye from Nyaromon's attack. Enraged, he grabbed Nyaromon by the tail, which had returned to its normal state, and slammed her into the side of the dumpster. Nyaromon let out a pained cry from the impact, making her counterpart look at her in worry. As a result, Pokomon was left vulnerable and took a hit from the rat-faced thug's wild claw swipe.

Determined not to be hit again, Nyaromon quickly used "Fox Tail" once more, the razor-sharp hairs ripping into the thug's hand. The mutant howled in pain and released his grip, allowing Nyaromon to bounce away and regain some distance.

The Ankylosaurus-tailed thug, now gripping his bleeding hand, glared at Nyaromon with murderous intent. With great effort, he ripped his tail free from the dumpster, his face contorted with rage. "You're not gonna get out of here alive now, you little freak!" he roared.

Nyaromon, having a small reprieve, looked to its counterpart, who was not faring well from the earlier distraction.

The other thug had joined in after seeing his opportunity, and his Quirk became obvious to Nyaromon. The burly man with a scar across his face was rubbing his hands together, building up a charge of electricity and throwing it at Pokomon whenever pokomon tried to get some distance showing that the thugs knew how to work together.

pokomon who was still trying to dodge the claws of the rat-faced thug had lots of cuts along her body as she tried once again to get some distance only to be hit by a lucky ball of electricity by scarface sending Pokomon tumbling towards Nyaromon.

"Nyaromon, I don't know how much longer we can hold out!" Pokomon stated while struggling on getting back up from the tumble, its small body trembling from the shock.

Nyaromon's heart raced as she looked at her partner, who was clearly exhausted and battered. "It's not good, but we have to keep trying!" Nyaromon replied, determination in her voice. "We can't let them win!"

The rat-faced thug, still trying to shake away the dizziness, lunged toward Pokomon, thinking it was distracted. But Nyaromon intervened, launching itself in front of its partner and headbutting the thug, striking him in the chest.

The rat-faced thug staggered back, falling to the ground and rolling to a stop. When he got back up, he was clutching his chest and wheezing. The burly man with the scar, seeing his partner get hit, hurled another ball of electricity at the two Digimon. "You're gonna pay for that!"

The ball of electricity hit the ground between them, exploding outward and sending Nyaromon and Pokomon flying.

They crashed into opposite walls of the alley, dazed and struggling to get back on their feet. As they tried to recover, they could only watch helplessly as the Ankylosaurus-tailed thug advanced on them, his tail swinging menacingly. "Guess this is the end for you two," he stated, preparing to crush them with a powerful blow from his tail.

Nyaromon and Pokomon looked at each other, fear mingling in their eyes. They knew they were outmatched in their current forms. Hearing a scream, they turned to see the other thugs advancing on the woman, realizing that they were as good as dead.

Despite their dire situation, they couldn't give up. They had to protect the woman. With that thought in mind, the two began to stagger to their feet and march towards the Ankylosaurus-tailed thug, who laughed derisively. "Pathetic, you still want to fight? Fine then, you asked for this. Die, you freaks!" He swung his tail toward them.

As the thug's tail hurtled toward them, the world seemed to slow down. In that moment, Nyaromon and Pokomon shouted in unison

"We will protect her!" it was then that a powerful voice reverberated inside their heads.

"Digivolution protocol activated"

With a thunderous boom, a brilliant pillar of light shot up from the two Digimon, piercing the night sky. The overwhelming burst of energy blasted outward, sending the Ankylosaurus-tailed thug crashing onto his back, landing behind the other two thugs.

The intense light illuminated the entire alleyway, forcing the thugs to turn their heads away from the woman and towards the source of the blinding glow. Overwhelmed by the spectacle, the woman stared in awe, her fear momentarily forgotten.

"What the hell is happening?" the Ankylosaurus-tailed thug shouted while getting back up, squinting against the searing brilliance.

"Nyaromon digivolve to—" As the digital energy surged through Nyaromon, its small, round body began to glow with a radiant light, growing a foot bigger. The fluffy ball-like Digimon started to elongate, its form stretching and reshaping. The large triangular ears grew longer and more defined, transforming into the floppy ears of a canine. Nyaromon's tail shortened, becoming a sleek, streamlined appendage that complemented its new quadrupedal stance. Its once round body started sprouting legs, gaining strength and agility, while its eyes retained their intelligent gleam but shifted from bronze to blue. The yellow fur smoothed out, transforming into a sleek coat of white fur. "Salamon!"

"Pokomon digivolve to—" As the digital energy enveloped Pokomon, its small, round body began to glow with an intense light, expanding and reshaping. Growing from just under a foot tall to an impressive 5.67 feet in height, wing-like tufts of yellow fur adorned its shoulders as the soft yellow fur grew longer and denser, forming a sleek, golden coat with the tips of its tail, ears, underbelly, hands, and legs from the knees down becoming white, even forming a mane-like tuft of white fur on its chest.

Pokomon's triangular ears elongated, becoming more pointed and fox-like. Its tiny back legs stretched, purple futatsu tomoe symbols appeared on its thighs as they grew, becoming more muscular and agile, forming into three-clawed feet. Meanwhile, its front legs stretched, becoming arms with three-clawed hands, and purple sleeves started to form on its forearms, each bearing a yin-yang symbol on the back of the hands.

The once small and fluffy tail transformed into a long, bushy appendage, swishing gracefully behind. Pokomon's eyes retained their keen intelligence, shifting from round and curious to sharp and focused, now a striking shade of black with sky blue pupils. "Renamon!"

As the light dimmed, revealing the newly digivolved forms of Salamon and Renamon, the thugs could only stare in stunned silence, unable to comprehend what had happened as the two creatures in front of them transformed into larger beings, showing no signs of damage from the previous confrontation.

The rat-faced thug spoke first, his voice shaking looking towards the Ankylosaurus-tailed thug, "Boss," he stammered, indicating that the Ankylosaurus-tailed thug was indeed their leader.

"what the hell are those things? I've never seen a Quirk do that before, especially not Mutant-type Quirks."

The Ankylosaurus-tailed thug, finally managing to get back on his feet, glared at Zashi and Nori with frustration. His anger boiled over as he shouted at them.

"What the hell are you two doing? Stop standing there like idiots! I don't care what kind of light show these things are putting on—just get in there and help me finish off these freaks!"

Zashi and Nori flinched at his words, snapping out of their daze. But before they could move, the two Digimon stepped forward, eyes blazing with renewed energy from the Digivolution.

"We're not freaks—we're Digimon, Digital Monsters!" Salamon and Renamon declared in unison, smirks crossing their faces.

Without hesitation, they leaped back into action, moving with a new speed and agility that left the thugs struggling to keep up.

Salamon darted forward, its small body becoming a blur to the criminals. She aimed for the Ankylosaurus-tailed thug, wanting payback, dodging his tail swings with graceful ease.

"Sledge Crash!" Salamon cried, launching itself at the thug at full speed and delivering a powerful hit to his gut with much greater force than before. The thug was unable to stay upright from the blow and was propelled back crashing into the side of a now fully wrecked dumpster, gasping for air before crumbling to the ground unconscious.

Nori's eyes widened in shock, his hands trembling as he watched his boss—a man who had always been the strongest among them—get taken down in a single hit by a creature that was barely the size of a small dog.

Nori's mouth hung open, words escaping him as fear gripped his heart. "H-Holy shit…" he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He took a shaky step back, his mind racing. What kind of power were they up against? This wasn't supposed to happen. They were just supposed to rough up some woman for a small payday, not deal with monsters that could take down their leader with one blow.

Panic surged through him, and he turned to inform Zashi that they needed to get out of there—only to gawk in horror at the sight before him.

Renamon, with its newly enhanced agility, had already set its sights on the thug that hurt her. She moved with efficient precision, effortlessly dodging zashi's desperate attacks as he swung his elongated claws wildly. hoping to force Renamon back. But before he could react, Renamon caught his arm mid-swing, its grip like iron. In one swift motion, she struck him with a powerful palm strike to the chest, sending him flying backward.

Zashi collided with Nori, the impact knocking them both to the ground in a crumpled mess of limbs. Nori's horror deepened as he struggled to untangle himself, realizing Zashi was knocked out from the strike.

Nori pushed his unconscious accomplice off of him, supporting a broken arm that came from the collision. "What the fuck is going on?" he muttered, backing up fearfully as the two advanced on him now feeling as the woman had felt in that moment.

He tried to counterattack, rubbing his hands together despite the pain from the broken arm, causing them to crackle with electricity. He hurled a ball of lightning at Renamon, but she swatted away the attack effortlessly. "You'll have to do better than that," Renamon taunted with eyes that seemed to flash red for just a moment.

Looking at his comrades' unconscious forms that littered the alley and realizing he was now outnumbered and outmatched, nori turned and ran, sprinting past the woman, who was gobsmacked at the sight she was witnessing.

He didn't get far as Salamon gathered holy energy within its mouth. "Holy Shot!" Salamon called out as energy formed and left its mouth, hitting the nori in the back. He tumbled feet twisting as he crashed headfirst into a trashcan and, like his comrades, joined them unconscious.

Renamon and Salamon perspective

With the battle finally over, the alley fell silent except for the distant wail of approaching sirens.

The woman, still clutching her purse, approached the Digimon with cautious gratitude. "Thank you… thank you so much," she whispered, tears of relief streaming down her face.

Salamon and Renamon turned to her, their expressions softening. Salamon walked forward, putting a paw on her shin. "You're safe now," Salamon said gently. "Just be careful ok."

Renamon walked up to her as well. "We'll be watching. If you ever need us, we'll be here," Renamon added, motioning with its head to the camera outside the alley.

The woman nodded, not understanding the meaning behind Renamon's words, still in shock but immensely grateful. She turned and hurried out of the alley, glancing back one last time she grabbed her phone to take a picture of the two before noticing that her phone was still glitching out, letting it go she smiled at her saviors before fully disappearing around the corner.

"We did it," Salamon said loudly after she had left, bouncing in place, its voice filled with excitement.

Renamon nodded, a small smile playing on its lips. "Yes, we did. And we achieved our Digivolution to boot. I think this calls for a celebration."

With the alley now empty and the threat gone, the two Digimon prepared to return to the Digital-Scape before the cops arrived as the sirens were heard in the distance, obviously attracted by their lightshow of their Digivolution.

They decided to leave as they had much to do tomorrow as they had an auction to win. But for now, they had won their first real battle, and it felt like a victory worth celebrating.

Before they decided to leave, they left a note for the police to better convict the criminals they left behind.

Renamon swiftly wrote a brief message on a piece of paper found in the alley: "These men attacked a defenseless woman. They were defeated by us who protected her. - Digital Guardians."

"Digital guardians" Salamon asked, confused.

"Yes it can be our hero team name" Renamon replied "I thought we can at least protect this world until we can get back to our own."

Salamon tilted her head, the confusion in her eyes slowly giving way to understanding. "So, we're like what the humans called heroes on this world."

Seeing renamon Leave the note pinned to the wrecked dumpster, the two Digimon walked back to the camera overlooking the alleyway, their forms shimmering before bursting into pixels and vanishing back into the Digital-Scape.

The alley, now still and empty, awaited the arrival of the authorities, who would soon find the evidence left behind and the unconscious thugs ready for arrest.

Naomasa Tsukauchi pov

As we pulled up to the crime scene, the flickering red and blue lights of the patrol cars cast an eerie glow over the dark alley that several phone calls reported a pillar of light that had shot up into the sky waking them up.

I stepped out of the car thinking that This was going to be one of my first major cases since helping yagi take down all those crime rings leading up to all for ones defeat.

thinking about it brought a frown to my face as yagi was still in intensive care from that battle and it was not looking good as recovery girl stated he has Severe Internal Injuries and was going to have Respiratory Problems. I was broken out of my thoughts as my mentor called me over.

Detective Fujimoto, was my mentor and a seasoned investigator, motioned for me to follow him. "Come on, Tsukauchi. Let's see what we've got."

We stepped into the alley, and I immediately took in the chaotic scene. The area was a mess, with debris scattered from the destroyed dumpster and overturned trash cans. Three men were sprawled around the alley, clearly worse for wear.

One had crashed into the side of the dumpster, another lay amidst a pile of trash cans, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle, clearly broken.

The third was sprawled out in the middle of the alleyway, all of them very much unconscious.

"What a scene," Fujimoto muttered, kneeling beside the nearest thug to check for a pulse. "They're alive, but barely."

I moved closer, taking in the scorch marks on the ground, the dents in the walls, and the claw marks etched into the concrete. "What happened here?" I muttered to myself.

As we surveyed the scene, I noticed a note pinned to the wrecked dumpster. Carefully, I unpinned it and read aloud: "These men attacked a defenseless woman. They were defeated by us who protected her. - Digital Guardians."

"Digital Guardians?" Tsukauchi repeated, furrowing his brow. "Never heard of them."

The older detective stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Fantastic" he said in a huff "Looks like we have some vigilantes on our hands. We will worry about that later for now, let's focus on the task at hand. We need to gather evidence and ensure these thugs are taken into custody."

As we continued to survey the alley, I noticed a security camera mounted on the corner of a building just outside the alley. Its lens pointed directly at the scene of the crime, a silent witness to everything that had transpired here.

"Detective Fujimoto," I called, pointing towards the camera. "We might have some footage of what happened.

Fujimoto nodded, glancing up at the camera with a thoughtful expression. "Good catch, Tsukauchi. Let's make sure to get that footage. It could give us a clear view of the incident and maybe even the suspects."

As we started to make our way over to the building to secure the camera footage, an elderly woman approached the edge of the cordon, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Excuse me," she said hesitantly, clutching a shawl around her shoulders. "I saw a woman leaving the alley just before you arrived. She looked terrified and was clutching her purse as if her life depended on it."

Hearing this: Fujimoto gave me instructions "you get statements from any witnesses and i will deal with the camera, see if we can find the woman mentioned in the note."

I nodded and turned to the old woman "Can you describe her?" I asked, pulling out my notebook.

The old woman nodded. "She had shoulder-length brown hair, green eyes. She was wearing a blue skirt and a gray blouse. She had some scratches on her face and looked very shaken up."

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, jotting down the details. "Your information is very helpful. Did you notice anything else? Anything unusual?"

The old woman shook her head. "No, just that poor woman and that strange pillar of light. I do hope she's alright."

"We'll do our best to find her and make sure she's safe," I assured her.

Seeing a small gathering of curious onlookers that had started forming at the alley's entrance.

"Excuse me," I called out. "Did anyone see what happened here?"

A few shook their heads but others came up giving their statements. Most accounts were vague, but the consensus was clear: a bright light and a fleeing woman.

With the witness statements in hand, I returned to my mentor. Detective Fujimoto had just left the building where the security footage was stored. He had a furrowed brow and a look of frustration on his face.

"What did you find?" I asked, hoping the footage had captured something useful.

Fujimoto sighed, shaking his head. "The footage was only able to get the beginning of the confrontation when the woman and the thugs entered the alley and the end of the confrontation showing the thugs injured and unconscious. The part where the pillar of light appeared is completely missing."

I frowned, considering the implications. "So, we still have no idea what caused that light or how those men were taken down?"

"Exactly," Fujimoto replied. "And without a clear view of what happened in between, we're left with a lot of questions and not many answers." He handed over his phone to me to look over, which only confirmed the woman's description from the witnesses.

I nodded, glancing back at the alley. "The old woman I spoke to mentioned a woman matching the description in this video. She said the woman looked terrified and was clutching her purse like her life depended on it."

Fujimoto's eyes lit up with a hint of hope. "That's something, at least. We need to find her. She might be able to fill in the gaps."

I agreed. "Most of the other witnesses only mentioned the bright light and the fleeing woman. No one seems to have seen what actually happened in the middle of the confrontation."

Fujimoto nodded, his expression turning determined. "Alright, let's put out an APB on the woman and see if we can track her down. In the meantime, we will let forensics deal with processing this scene and gather any unseen evidence we can't see. We might be dealing with professional vigilantes, it looks like."

Hearing the sirens, we turned to see the paramedics had also arrived and were moving into the alley. We moved aside for them as they started tending to the injured thugs. As they were loaded onto stretchers, one of the paramedics, a woman with sharp eyes and a calm demeanor, approached us.

"These men will be taken to the hospital. Once they're stable, you can question them there."

Fujimoto nodded in agreement. "Thank you. Tsukauchi, you're with me. Let's head to the hospital and be there when these guys wake up. We need answers."

As we made our way to the patrol car, I couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. The mysterious events in the alley, the strange pillar of light, and the note left by "Digital Guardians" all pointed to something unusual. We needed to get to the bottom of this, and fast.

The next morning (renamon Salamon pov)

The next morning, Renamon and Salamon were jolted awake by the sharp beeping of the hub's alarm clock, its digital chimes echoing through their cozy space. The soft glow of the digital hub bathed the area in soothing light, but the abrupt sound broke through the calm, pulling them from their sleep.

Renamon blinked, her sharp eyes adjusting quickly to the light as she reached out to silence the alarm. "Six in the morning already…" she murmured, sitting up and stretching.

"Morning, Renamon," Salamon replied, shaking off the last remnants of sleep. "Ready for today?"

Renamon nodded, their sharp eyes glancing towards the surveillance systems clock. "We need to get ready soon. The auction is at noon."

Salamon's ears perked up. "Let's get ready, then."

The two Digimon began their morning routine, a series of exercises designed to hone their instinctive skills. Renamon practiced her swift, fluid movements, sticking a digital construct they had created.

Salamon, on the other hand, brought up a target game for herself to practice on, its targets moving sporadically to challenge her accuracy. Afterward, the two would spar, pushing each other to sharpen their abilities.

Once their training was complete, they settled down to discuss their plan while looking over the items slated to be sold at the auction. "The auction is bound to draw a lot of attention, as a lot of things were seized by the authorities through the various raids they conducted over the last six months," Renamon mused. "But our main goal should be the bar."

"You should go in there without me," Salamon added. "We don't want to attract any unwanted attention from the humans as you can blend in as a mutation-quirked human, but we have to get you some clothes. we don't want them thinking you're some exhibitionist."

Renamon grumbled "ya I know maybe there is some clothes left behind from the raid in the underground portion"

With that thought in mind, Renamon focused her energy, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated on one of the surveillance cameras in the bar. She knew she needed to be careful—just enough energy to create the transfer without causing any electrical errors.

When she felt the familiar pull of the transfer, she instinctively let it happen, allowing herself to be drawn from the hub and into the bar's surveillance room. The transition was smooth, only causing a small fluctuation in the camera's feed.

"I'm out" Renamon replied telepathically to Salamon "I'm going to take a look around to see if they left anything useful" getting an affirmative from salamon she went about exploring.

"Okay, I'll go change our information and gather all the necessary files and identification," Salamon stated. "I'll keep one eye closed so I can see through yours."

As Renamon slipped through the bar's underground corridors, Salamon got to work. The small Digimon settled in the hub's room, as she accessed various government networks.

With an instinctive ease, she began altering records, changing the identifications of pokomon to Renamon.While she worked, Salamon kept one of her eyes closed, maintaining a link with Renamon's vision.

This allowed her to monitor the fox-like Digimon's progress Back at the bar, Renamon navigated the underground portion, its eerie, abandoned feel contrasting sharply with the chaos that had likely unfolded during the raid upstairs.

As she rounded a corner, a metal door caught her attention. Above it, a sign read "Trafficking Pen." Renamon felt a surge of anger at the implications of such a label, but she quickly pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand. If there were any supplies or clothing left behind, this might be the place to find them.

She carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, with a few discarded items strewn across the floor. Signs of a hurried evacuation were evident—clothes, personal items, and other belongings left behind in the chaos.

Renamon's eyes quickly fell on a pile of clothing in the corner. Among the items, she spotted a pair of baggy pants and a woman's tank top, crumpled but still wearable.

Meanwhile, Salamon was busy navigating through the layers of government data, rewriting and redirecting information with precision. Her tiny paws danced across the digital interface, leaving no trace of her presence.

She modified surveillance logs, adjusted security clearances, and even fabricated a few documents that could be useful in the future.

Renamon took the black tank top from the pile and slipped it over her head. The fabric clung snugly to her lean frame, accentuating her toned physique.

It was a bit tight around her chest, prompting her to adjust the tuft of white fur so it fit well enough to do the job. The tank top cut off just above her waist, leaving a small portion of her midriff exposed.

Next, Renamon grabbed the dark gray baggy pants, noting how loosely they hung in her grip. She quickly realized that she would need to create a hole for her tail. With that thought in mind, she carefully used one of her claws to make a precise cut in the back of the pants, crafting a neat, circular opening just above the waistband.

Satisfied with her work, Renamon slipped into the pants, tightening the waistband to ensure they fit securely. The pants were long and wide, almost too big for her, but they allowed plenty of room to move comfortably. Her tail slid easily through the opening, flicking back and forth as she adjusted to the new fit.

Noticing a mirror in the room, Renamon took a moment to examine her reflection. The black tank top stood out sharply against her golden fur, accentuated by the tuft of white fur on her chest. The dark gray pants, though baggy, almost completely concealed her legs.

While the outfit wasn't perfect, it was a notable improvement for blending in and moving more seamlessly in the human world.

"Okay, I've got some clothes. Heading out," Renamon telepathically informed Salamon.

"Those clothes work well for blending in," Salamon replied, her voice approving. "And i just finished with the necessary changes i believe there is a room they used for fake identification three doors down where i can print them you can pick them up there"

Renamon approached the room Salamon had mentioned, the door slightly ajar as if it had been hastily left behind in the chaos of the raid.

She pushed it open to reveal a dimly lit space filled with old equipment, the air thick with dust and the faint scent of ink. The room was cluttered with various identification-making tools—laminators, printers, and stacks of blank ID cards scattered across a long metal table. Along one wall, a series of computer monitors displayed different ID templates.

As Renamon stepped inside, she noticed that some of the equipment appeared outdated but functional. A small, industrial printer sat in the corner, its power light blinking softly. Beside it was a computer that looked as though it had been used extensively for illegal activities.

Salamon's voice echoed in Renamon's mind. "That is the printer we need"

Renamon nodded, moving toward the computer. She quickly identified the main power supply and noticed that it wasn't receiving enough energy. Carefully, she accessed the nearby breaker panel and noticed that it suffered a power overload with that in mind she diverted extra power from unused sections of the room, ensuring that the computer and printer had what they needed.

Once the power was stabilized, Renamon turned her attention to the computer. She tapped into the system. The screen flickered for a moment before displaying the necessary interface to print identification cards.

"I'm uploading the data now," Salamon informed her. "All you need to do is select the template and start the printing process."

Renamon selected the appropriate template from the options displayed on the screen. With a few quick keystrokes, she ensured that the IDs would look legitimate, matching the official format used by government agencies.

The printer whirred to life, feeding blank cards into the machine one by one. Each card emerged with a new identity, complete with photos, holographic seals, and official-looking information.

Renamon monitored the process carefully, adjusting settings as needed to maintain the quality of the prints.

After several minutes, the ID card was ejected from the printer. Renamon gathered it, inspecting it to make sure it was flawless. The ID looked convincing—perfect for blending into the human world.

"Everything's ready," Renamon telepathically communicated to Salamon, a hint of satisfaction in her tone.

"Great work. Don't forget to grab the bank information on the other printer," Salamon replied.

Renamon swiftly slipped the ID into a pocket in her pants. She then turned her attention to the other printer in the room, where a set of documents containing bank information had been processed earlier. After grabbing those and making sure everything was in order, she prepared to leave the room.

Navigating through more of the dimly lit corridors, Renamon reached the hidden staircase that led out of the lower levels. At the top of the stairs, she encountered a numerical pad on the wall.

She quickly input the new code they had implemented, and the wall in front of her sank into the floor, revealing a passage into the owner's office.

Entering the office, she was met with an eerie quiet. Dust-covered furniture and neglected paperwork filled the space. Glancing back, Renamon noticed the tall exhibit case, empty and showing signs of recent removal.

Not wanting to linger, Renamon swiftly moved to the window behind the desk, pushing it open to reveal the alleyway outside. She glanced around briefly, ensuring the coast was clear, and then stepped out. The cool morning air greeted her as she landed lightly on the ground. Without wasting any time, she swiftly left the alleyway and headed towards her next destination.

"Okay, you better make your way over to the police station that's holding the auction, Salamon. You can watch over me through their cameras," Renamon thought.

"Yeah, on it. See you there," Salamon replied.

Renamon made her way to the nearest train station, hoping to blend in with the early morning commuters.

As she approached the entrance, the automatic doors slid open with a faint hiss, revealing the bustling interior of the station. The fluorescent lights cast a stark, artificial glow over the tiled floors and rows of benches, while the air buzzed with the hum of conversation and the distant rumble of arriving trains.

She approached the ticket machine, studying it for a moment before selecting her destination. The machine whirred as it processed her request, and soon a ticket popped out. Renamon grabbed it and headed towards the platform, her sharp ears picking up snippets of conversation from the nearby crowd.

The platform was crowded with people waiting for the next train. Renamon stood near the edge, her tall, fox-like form drawing curious glances from those around her. She noticed some passengers subtly shifting away from her, a few whispering to each other as they eyed her with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Renamon couldn't help but notice the looks. They weren't just curious—they were cautious, almost fearful. She could sense the unease in the air, but without a deep understanding of human society in this world, she couldn't quite grasp the reason for it. She simply attributed it to her unfamiliar appearance and focused on her objective.

A soft chime announced the train's arrival, and the sleek, silver vehicle glided into the station with a whoosh of displaced air. The doors slid open, and the crowd surged forward, jostling for a spot inside. Renamon stepped into the carriage, finding a space near the back where she could stand without being too crowded.

As the train started moving, Renamon stood calmly, her golden eyes scanning the passengers. The seats were nearly all taken, and those who were standing tried to avoid making eye contact with her.

The soft rumble of the train and the rhythmic clatter of the tracks created a steady background noise, lulling some passengers into a light doze.

Renamon's thoughts drifted as she observed the world outside the window. The cityscape blurred into a mix of concrete and glass, occasionally interrupted by patches of green as the train sped along its route.

She focused on the task ahead, pushing aside the unease she felt from the reactions of those around her.

A few stops later, the train began to empty as passengers reached their destinations. Renamon's stop was coming up soon. She prepared herself, adjusting the baggy pants and black tank top she wore, making sure her tail was comfortably positioned through the hole she'd cut.

When the train finally pulled into her station, Renamon stepped off onto the platform. The station was quieter than the last, with only a few commuters milling about.

She quickly exited the train station, finding herself back on the streets and just a short walk from the police station where the auction was being held.

Detective Tsukauchi's Perspective

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi stood in the bustling lobby of the police station, the early morning light filtering through the large windows.

The station was alive with activity, officers moving with purpose as they prepared for the day ahead. The auction of confiscated items was about to begin, and the atmosphere was tense with anticipation.

Tsukauchi wasn't particularly interested in the auction itself; his mind was focused on the strange events of the previous night. The mysterious note left at the scene had been troubling him ever since.

"Digital Guardians," it had said, hinting at some sort of vigilante group. The note had been vague, but the unconscious criminals left in the alley spoke volumes. The markings on the criminals suggested that mutant-type Quirk users had intervened.

As he made his way into the auction room, Tsukauchi leaned against a wall near the entrance, his gaze methodically scanning the crowd of attendees as they filtered in. The room buzzed with murmurs of excitement—a stark contrast to the high-stakes tension he was accustomed to.

His attention, however, was soon drawn away from the usual suspects by an unusual figure making her way through the entrance.

The figure stood out immediately—tall, with striking golden fur that shimmered in the ambient light. She wore a black tank top that hugged her athletic frame, and her baggy gray pants, though intended to provide cover, seemed almost comically oversized against her lean build. The most captivating feature, however, was her tail, which swayed and flicked with an almost rhythmic grace.

Tsukauchi's eyes were drawn further to the purple sleeves that adorned her forearms. Each sleeve bore a yin-yang symbol prominently displayed on the back of her hands, adding an enigmatic touch to her appearance.

Tsukauchi observed her movements with a mixture of curiosity and caution. She navigated the crowd with an air of confidence, though her attempts to remain inconspicuous were evident.

Despite her efforts, her fox-like features and the striking apprance made her stand out. Tsukauchi noted how the sleeves, while stylish, seemed to suggest both protection and a potential offensive capability.

The armlets could serve to protect her fists during a fight, hinting at a level of preparedness that piqued his interest.

Tsukauchi's thoughts were interrupted as the auctioneer's voice boomed over the crowd, signaling the start of the event. The room's chatter hushed as the auctioneer began describing the first item on the docket. Tsukauchi's attention snapped back to the proceedings, refocusing on the items being displayed and the bidding war that was about to unfold. He shifted his stance, eyes darting between the stage and the crowd, his mind momentarily shifting away from the enigmatic figure with the golden fur and the purple sleeves. Yet, the sense of unease lingered, a reminder that the peculiar woman was still in the back of his mind as he prepared for the day's events.

Third person perspective

The auction room buzzed with energy as the auctioneer took the stage, his voice rising above the murmur of the crowd. The attendees, a mix of officers, local officials, and intrigued onlookers, settled into their seats, their anticipation palpable. The room, decorated with banners and spotlighted displays, was filled with a mix of luxury and intrigue, reflecting the high-stakes nature of the event.

The auctioneer, a middle-aged man with a crisp suit and a commanding presence, raised his gavel, signaling the beginning of the auction. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to today's auction of confiscated items! We have a remarkable selection for you, ranging from high-end artifacts to unique curiosities. Let's get started!"

He gestured toward the first item, a sleek, high-tech gadget encased in glass. The item was projected onto a large screen behind him, and the crowd leaned in, eager to see what was up for bid. The auctioneer's voice was smooth and practiced as he detailed the features and provenance of the gadget, his enthusiasm infectious.

As the auction proceeded, the atmosphere in the room became increasingly charged. The auctioneer's gavel struck rhythmically, marking the passage of each item as they were sold to the highest bidder. The crowd buzzed with excitement, their bids punctuated by murmurs and occasional bursts of applause. High-tech gadgets, rare antiques, and even a few art pieces passed through the auction block, each one drawing attention and driving up the stakes.

The auctioneer's voice rang out with practiced enthusiasm. "Ladies and gentlemen, our next item up for grabs is a piece of property—an entire bar! Yes, you heard that correctly—a complete bar recently confiscated as part of a significant criminal investigation. This is an opportunity you won't want to miss!"

He gestured to a large image projected behind him, showcasing the bar in all its splendor. The polished mahogany structure, with its ornate carvings and high-end finish, gleamed under the lights. The crowd's interest was immediately piqued. The auctioneer continued, detailing its features and emphasizing its potential as a prime business investment.

As the auctioneer began detailing the bar and its features, Renamon's sharp ears picked up snippets of conversation from the young man. His voice was low but urgent, speaking to an associate who stood beside him.

"We need this," the young man said, his tone carrying an edge of frustration. "The bar is important to our plans. Make sure we get it, no matter what."

Renamon's ears twitched as she caught these words, she looked over to see a young man who wore a long, dark trench coat that was slightly oversized with the hood up, giving him an air of mystery. Underneath the coat, she could see he had on baggy clothes that seemed deliberately chosen to blend in with the other people of the same wear. The outfit was simple but gave him a somewhat disheveled appearance. This combination of clothing made him look both inconspicuous and unassuming, yet his sharp eyes and focused demeanor hinted at a deeper purpose.

The auctioneer's voice rang out again, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we begin the bidding for this fantastic piece of property. Do I hear an opening bid?"

A few tentative bids came in, the crowd slowly warming to the idea of owning a bar. The young man raised his hand, calling out a bid with a clear and authoritative tone. "One hundred thousand!"

The room fell silent for a moment as the crowd turned to look at the young man, intrigued by his intense presence. Renamon watched him closely, her keen eyes assessing the competition.

Salamon, monitoring the auction through the live feeds, relayed the updates. "Looks like the young man is bidding aggressively for the bar," she reported.

"Salamon, I'm determined to win the bar. Can you look into finding out who he is?" Renamon asked, receiving a mental nod from Salamon. She continued to focus on the auction, her gaze fixed on the young man as the bids escalated.

The auctioneer's gavel struck rhythmically, the bids climbing higher and higher. The room was abuzz with excitement, and the stakes grew with each passing moment. Renamon and the young man exchanged competitive bids, each attempt driving the price up further.

As the bidding reached its zenith, the young man's bids began to falter. He glanced at his phone, his confidence wavering as Renamon assumed he reached his limit. The auctioneer called out, "We're at fifteen million! Any further bids?"

Renamon saw her chance and made her move. She raised her paddle high and declared, "Twenty million!"

The room fell into stunned silence as the young man looked around, visibly defeated. His shoulders slumped, and he slowly lowered his paddle. With a final, resolute glance at the other bidders, he withdrew from the competition.

The auctioneer's gavel came down with a final, authoritative thud. "Sold! To the lady in the back for twenty million!"

Hours later

As the auction drew to a close, the excitement in the room began to settle. The auctioneer moved on to the final items, but the atmosphere was still buzzing from the high-stakes bidding that had just concluded.

Renamon, having secured the bar with her decisive bid, remained focused as she prepared to finalize her acquisition. Her ears were still attuned to the surrounding noise, hoping to catch any useful information or further clues about her competition.

As the crowd began to disperse and the young man in the trench coat made his way toward the exit, Renamon's keen senses picked up on a few murmured words. The young man spoke with a voice laced with frustration, though his tone was barely above a whisper.

"I've failed... but I'll get this for my master. I have to," he muttered, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness and resolve. "There's always another way."

Renamon's ears perked up at the mention of a "master." The words were spoken too softly for most to hear, but they carried a clear message of frustration and an unresolved commitment to someone else. She watched as the young man disappeared through the exit, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Salamon, still monitoring through the live feeds, sensed Renamon's attention and queried, "Did you hear something from him?"

Renamon nodded slightly. "Yes, he mentioned a master. It seems the young boy is working for someone else."

As the young man disappeared through the exit, Renamon's attention remained focused on him, her mind processing the implications of his words. Salamon's voice broke into her thoughts, steady and concerned.

"I tried looking up information on the young man's name that was on his nametag, but it seems he doesn't appear on any police records," Salamon reported. "It's as if he doesn't exist within their database. That's unusual, especially for someone bidding so aggressively and in such high amounts."

Renamon's expression grew thoughtful. "That's concerning. If he's operating under the radar like this, it could mean he's connected to someone with significant influence or resources. We'll need to dig deeper into who this 'master' might be and why they're interested in the bar."

Salamon acknowledged the plan. "Understood. I'll continue to search for any leads or information that might shed light on this mysterious figure and their connection to the young man."

"Yeah, I'll go pay for our acquisition," Renamon stated, heading towards the till.

With a final glance towards the door the young man departed from, Renamon made her way to finalize the purchase of the bar, while Salamon began her investigation into the elusive bidder and his enigmatic master.

Detective Tsukauchi's Perspective

I watched her from the corner of my eye as she approached the payment desk. The auction had ended, and the bar was hers. But there was something about her—something that didn't sit right with me.

I made my way over, grabbing the acquisition form she had just filled out and checking it over. Her name, just a single word, stared back at me: Renamon which was an odd name but even odder was she put down no last name. I approached her, keeping my tone neutral but inquisitive. "Excuse me, Miss Renamon, is it? I need to ask you a few more questions before we can finalize the purchase."

She turned to face me, her blue eyes calm but alert. "Sure, what do you need?"

I kept my gaze steady, studying her expression as I asked the first question. "Your form here is missing a last name. Can you provide that information?".

She shook her head slightly. "I don't have a last name."

That answer only deepened my curiosity as my truth sense came back positive. It wasn't every day someone claimed not to have a last name. "Alright. Can you provide a valid form of identification?"

Without hesitation, she reached into a pocket of her baggy pants and handed me an ID. I examined it closely, noting that it confirmed her name as simply Renamon. "No last name, just like you said," I murmured to myself before looking back up at her. "Do you have any additional identification or proof of address?"

"No, that's the only ID I have," she replied smoothly.

Positive again, I made a note of it. "And how about proof of funds or financing to cover the purchase price?"

Her gaze didn't waver. "I have the funds ready. Do you need documentation?"

"Yes," I said, "a bank statement or letter of credit would be helpful."

Without hesitation, she pulled out a document and handed it to me. It was a letter confirming her financial capability. I looked it over, still trying to piece together the puzzle that was this woman. "What is your intended use for the property?"

She didn't hesitate. "I plan to use it for personal reasons."

I could feel my Quirk tugging at the edges of my consciousness, feeling that her answer was truthful but evaded from truly answering my question. I continued, "Have you purchased property at auction before?"

"No, this is my first time," she admitted.

"Do you have any prior experience with managing or owning similar properties?" I asked, trying to gauge her preparedness.

"Not yet, but I'm learning," she said, her voice steady.

"Are you aware of any zoning or legal restrictions that might affect your use of the property?" I pressed.

"I'm not familiar with the specifics," she said, "but I'm willing to comply with any regulations."

I made another note. "Have you reviewed the terms and conditions of the auction, including any legal obligations?"

"Yes, I've gone through the terms," she confirmed.

"Any concerns or questions about the condition of the property?" I asked.

"None at the moment," she replied.

"How will you handle the deposit and payment upon winning the bid?" I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly as I waited for her response.

"I'm prepared to make the payment as required," she said, without missing a beat.

I studied her for a moment longer, my Quirk sensing nothing but honesty in her answers. Still, something didn't add up. I nodded, letting it go for now. "Thank you for your cooperation. I'll need to process this form and make sure everything is in order."

She gave me a small nod, and I returned the acquisition form on the table where I had grabbed it from previously nodding to my fellow officer for him to finish processing it and headed to my desk.

I reached my desk and settled into my chair, the acquisition form still fresh in my mind. Glancing at my computer, I began typing in her name—or rather, the single name she'd given—into the police database. The screen flickered as the search began, and I watched as the system combed through records, looking for any trace of Renamon.

The minutes ticked by as the database searched, my fingers tapping lightly on the desk. I wasn't expecting much, but I was still hoping for something—anything—that might give me more insight into who she was. A criminal record, a past address, a business registration—anything that would explain how she came to be here, bidding on a confiscated bar with such determination.

But as the search results finally appeared on the screen, my brow furrowed. a record popped up. It was all there—government-issued ID, a clean background, and even a recent address. On the surface, everything seemed in order, yet something gnawed at me.

The information was too perfect, almost as if it had been carefully crafted to avoid raising any red flags. the lack of discrepancies itself felt like a red flag. It was the kind of thing that looked legitimate to anyone just glancing over it, but for someone with my experience, it felt off.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen. The details were all there, but none of it answered the question of who—or what—Renamon really was. She had been forthright with me, yet there was something that didn't quite sit right. My instincts were telling me that this was just the tip of the iceberg.

With a sigh, I closed the file and made a note to keep an eye on her. There was more to this Renamon than met the eye, and I intended to find out what it was. For now, I'd let her go about her business, but I'd be watching—waiting for the moment when the truth would reveal itself.

Just as I was about to dig deeper into Renamon's file, my phone buzzed on the desk, breaking the silence. I glanced at the screen and saw my mentor's name flashing. Detective Fujimoto. I picked up the call, keeping my voice steady. "Tsukauchi here."

"Naomasa," Fujimoto's voice came through, gruff but urgent. "The criminals we found last night, they're starting to regain consciousness. We're prepping to question them as soon as they're lucid enough to talk."

I straightened in my chair, my thoughts shifting immediately. This was the break we'd been waiting for. "Understood. I'll be there right away."

"Good. And Naomasa, something's off about this whole thing."

"I know, I have the same feeling." I hung up, my mind already racing through the possibilities. The note, the strange vigilante group, and now Renamon—all of it was starting to weave together in a way that didn't sit right.

Grabbing my coat, I headed for the door. As much as I wanted to stay and dig deeper into Renamon's story, the situation with the criminals demanded my attention. But I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time our paths crossed.

Renamons and salamons Perspective

As Renamon sat on the train, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the tracks filled the carriage, blending with the quiet murmurs of the other passengers. She kept to herself, her fox-like ears twitching occasionally as she picked up snippets of conversations, though her focus remained elsewhere.

"Salamon," Renamon began telepathically, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window, "thank you for pulling up the detective's information. Knowing about his Quirk helped me get around it by not fully giving direct answers to his more invasive questions. He didn't suspect anything, but it's clear he's thorough."

"Of course," Salamon replied, her voice clear in Renamon's mind. "It's always good to know who we're dealing with."

Renamon nodded slightly, though her expression remained thoughtful. "Still, there's something about these humans... every single one feels off. I can sense the digital energy within them, but it's different—like it's a part of them, yet not fully connected. It's unsettling."

Salamon was silent for a moment before responding. "Remember the criminals in the alley even while we are fighting them. I could feel their digital energy was concentrated like the man with the tail was concentrated there or the electric human was concentrated in his center but only moved when he connected his hands lastly that rat-faced thug... he had the form of a human rat, complete with a tail, though it was hidden in his pant leg."

Renamon's eyes narrowed slightly as she recalled the fight. "Yes, I remember. It's almost as if their digital energy is tied to specific physical traits or abilities. It's not like the Digimon we know, where energy is part of our very essence. Here, it feels more... isolated, confined to certain parts of their bodies. That rat-faced thug you mentioned... his digital energy felt like that of a Chuumon—sly and scurrying. It's like he gained the look of this world's animal equivalent but with the added ability to sharpen his claws."

Salamon was silent for a moment before responding. "That's something we'll need to keep in mind. The humans here might be more complex than we first thought."

"We'll discuss this more after I leave the station. My stop is coming up, and I'm just a short walk from the bar," Renamon stated.

As the train slowed to a halt, Renamon gracefully stood up and made her way to the exit. The station was quiet at this time of day, with only a few people milling about. She quickly ascended the stairs, the evening air cool against her fur as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

"Salamon," Renamon began telepathically as she walked, "we need to decide what to do with the bar. It's a good base of operations, but it needs a purpose—something that keeps us connected to the information and energy in this world."Salamon's voice echoed in her mind, thoughtful as always.

"Agreed. We could use it as a place to gather intel, maybe even attract certain types of people—those with strong digital energy. It might help us learn more about the connection between these quirks and the digital energy they possess."

Renamon nodded slightly, weaving through the sparse crowd as she made her way down the dimly lit streets. "That's a good idea. But we need to be subtle. We can't draw too much attention to ourselves. A bar is perfect for that—people come and go without much notice. We could even use it as a cover to investigate those who seem... off."

"Then we'll need a name for it," Salamon suggested. "Something that fits the atmosphere of this world but also resonates with us."Renamon paused for a moment, considering the possibilities as she turned a corner, the bar now in sight. Its exterior was unassuming, tucked away between two larger buildings, a perfect location for something discreet.

"How about 'The Digital Haven'?" Salamon proposed. "It's subtle, but it will be our home in this world, our haven so to speak."

Renamon stopped in front of the bar, gazing at the entrance. The name felt right—a place of refuge, where they could observe and gather information, all while maintaining a low profile.

"Yes," Renamon agreed, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "The Digital Haven. It's perfect."With the name decided, Renamon stepped forward, ready to make the bar their new base of operations, their haven in this unfamiliar world.