Veemon gritted its teeth and slowly lowered its foot toward Davis's head as he knelt on the ground.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" The Digimon Emperor threw his head back and laughed loud, delighted by Davis's pain and Veemon's hesitation.
"Davis! Davis!" Familiar voices shouted from the distance.
Davis and Veemon snapped their heads toward the sound—Kari, Yolei, and the others were sprinting toward Davis as they called out to him.
"Kari! Yolei!" Davis shouted, a burst of relief and joy breaking through his face.
"Damn it… I was this close!" the Digimon Emperor roared, furious.
And then—the "kids" hanging beneath the stone bridge suddenly changed, their bodies twisting back into their real forms: Bakemon.
Bakemon is a Champion-level Ghost-type Digimon draped from head to toe in a large white sheet. No one knows what it truly looks like beneath that cloth. It's an evil existence born from darkness, and any computer system haunted by Bakemon will instantly collapse. Every mystery is hidden under its sheet—rumor says the shadow beneath its body is a black hole. Because it isn't very strong, it doesn't like direct combat. Its finisher, Hell's Hand, is a huge rotting claw that reaches out from under its cloak, captures the enemy, and drags them toward hell.
"So that's it… they were Bakemon in disguise." Veemon finally understood—then anger surged up, hot and sharp. Because of those fake Bakemon, it had almost stepped on the head of its best friend. "You disgusting creeps… I'll never forgive you!"
"You idiots! Why didn't you stall them?!" the Digimon Emperor screamed at Wormmon.
"I'm sorry, Ken…" Wormmon lowered its head and apologized in a small voice.
"So you really are that despicable." Davis clenched his fists, shaking with rage. "Let's go, Veemon!"
"Yeah!" Veemon nodded hard.
"Armor Digivolve!"
"Veemon, Armor Digivolve to… Flamedramon!"
"Armadillomon, Armor Digivolve to… Digmon!"
"Hawkmon, Armor Digivolve to… Halsemon!"
"Patamon, Armor Digivolve to… Pegasusmon!"
"Gatomon, Armor Digivolve to… Nefertimon!"
"Biyomon, Digivolve to… Birdramon!"
"Agumon, Digivolve to… Greymon!"
"Hmph." The Digimon Emperor sneered and flicked his arm. "Go—Bakemon formation A, formation C!"
Under his command, the Bakemon kept shifting formations as they surged toward the flyers: Halsemon, Pegasusmon, Nefertimon, and Birdramon.
"Attack!" the Digimon Emperor barked.
The Bakemon weaved through every strike, constantly changing formation—then lunged in all at once.
"Hell's Hand!"
A huge, rotten claw slammed down on Halsemon, Birdramon, and Pegasusmon. All three cried out in pain, bodies jolting from the impact—only Nefertimon narrowly avoided it, relying on superior speed and maneuverability to slip past.
"He's already seen through our patterns…" T.K. said, stunned, his voice tight.
"Mega Flame!" Greymon blasted a massive ball of fire into one Bakemon, shattering the Dark Ring on its body.
"Holy Light!" Nefertimon seized the opening—its sword flashed, releasing multiple beams that snapped the Dark Rings on the Bakemon crowding around it.
"Switch to formation B!" the Digimon Emperor shouted.
The Bakemon instantly shifted again, slipping away from Greymon's next Mega Flame by a hair's breadth.
"Damn that Digimon Emperor…" Davis ground his teeth, eyes locked on the figure on the high ground who never stopped directing the swarm.
Meanwhile—
"Flame Punch!"
"Gold Drill!"
Flamedramon and Digmon were battling Chimeramon. Against Chimeramon's enormous body, the two of them together weren't even as big as one of its heads.
Their attacks slammed into Chimeramon's hide without even throwing off a spark—only managing to enrage it. Two massive heads whipped around. Flamedramon reacted quickly and dodged, but Digmon couldn't move in time—one blow sent it flying into the cliffside. It collapsed, limp and powerless.
"Good. Next—" the Digimon Emperor began smugly, but a furious shout rose behind him.
He turned—and Davis tackled him.
There was no time to react. The Digimon Emperor was slammed off balance, and the two of them tumbled down the slope together, rolling hard over rocks and dust.
"Chimeramon! Use Heat Viper!" the Digimon Emperor shouted as he scrambled back to his feet.
Chimeramon's three mouths opened wide, energy swelling into a terrifying mass—aimed straight at Davis.
"Farewell… my dear Davis," the Digimon Emperor said, looking down with a cruel, almost pitying gaze.
"I won't let you!" Flamedramon dropped from above, planting itself in front of Davis like a shield.
Chimeramon's gathered power condensed into a sharp, piercing energy bolt and shot forward.
Flamedramon's whole body ignited—flames roaring hotter, brighter—until it became a blazing rocket, charging straight at Chimeramon.
"I won't lose to anyone!" Veemon's voice rang inside Flamedramon's roar, stubborn and fierce.
The fiery "rocket" cleaved the blue energy bolt cleanly in two, then slammed into the Dark Ring on Chimeramon's chest—
—and shattered it into pieces.
Up in the air, the Bakemon lost the Digimon Emperor's control. Their formations collapsed into chaos, and they flailed without direction. The kids' partner Digimon took the chance, striking fast and clean—snapping Dark Rings one after another.
Digmon pushed itself back up and rolled to the Dark Tower, drilling into it and smashing it down. The tower cracked apart, splitting into several broken sections.
"We did it!" the kids shouted, cheering with sudden, shaky relief.
"HAHAHAHA—!" The Digimon Emperor suddenly burst into laughter, loud and sharp, making everyone freeze and stare at him in confusion.
"I can't believe…" he laughed, head tilted back, "I got beaten by the same trick twice."
"Twice?" Davis asked, confused.
"This is my strategic mistake," the Digimon Emperor continued, pride still clinging to his tone. "Just like the soccer match. You're the type who strikes the leader at the critical moment."
"Twice? Soccer? What are you talking about?" Davis demanded—then his eyes dropped to the Emperor's leg. Blood was seeping through. "That injury… Don't tell me—no way. That's just a coincidence, right?" he asked, uncertain.
"It's not a coincidence. It's the truth." The Digimon Emperor stood up, reached to his face, and pulled off his glasses—revealing who he really was. "Just like you guessed."
"I—Ichijouji Ken?!" Davis stared, shocked, at the Digimon Emperor—no, at Ken Ichijouji.
"I lost today," Ken said coldly, "but from now on, I'll use everything I've got against you."
With that, Ken sprang upward. A Flymon swooped beneath his feet, caught him, and carried him away. He quickly shrank into a distant black dot, leaving behind only his smug, echoing laughter.
"I… I really admired you," Davis said, lifting his head, his gaze complicated and wounded. "You're my age, and you're that amazing… I never thought you'd be—"
"Why…? Why is it like this?!" Davis shouted, his voice cracking with genuine heartbreak—the feeling of an idol shattering right in front of him.
When they returned to the computer lab, the kids looked dazed and hollow—especially Davis and Yolei.
"He's the Digimon Emperor?" Izzy asked, still stunned as he tried to confirm it out loud.
"Yeah." Davis's answer was firm. "The Digimon Emperor is Ken Ichijouji."
Back in that dim, eerie control room, Ken sat again with his head lowered, staring at the screens. Footage played from everywhere: areas of the Digital World with Dark Towers… and scenes from the human world, focused mostly on school and home.
Then Ken slowly raised his head. The glow of the monitors reflected off his glasses, making his eyes look deeper, darker.
One screen showed an interview of him—the Ken on the screen was bright and confident, smiling warmly, speaking humbly, naturally drawing people in.
But the real Ken sat in darkness, dressed in black, his face hidden behind oversized lenses, radiating a cold "don't come near me" pressure.
As the interview continued playing, Ken's head sank lower and lower again, eyes lowered to nowhere in particular, lost in thoughts no one could see.
Wormmon watched him, worried sick—yet had no idea what it could do.
Suddenly, Ken stood up and walked to the console. He began working quickly. Every monitor switched to footage of a black D-3 Digivice, data panels appearing beside it.
As Ken continued, the Digivice data began shifting—changing.
"Ken… are you thinking about lots and lots of hard problems I don't understand?" Wormmon asked sadly.
Ken didn't answer. He just stared blankly at the black D-3 Digivice on the screen.
Back in the computer lab, the kids searched through Ken's interview and narrowed down the rough area where his house should be. They decided to go there and investigate more directly.
At Ken's home, his mother stared at his tightly closed bedroom door, worry written across her face.
"What do we do? Ken hasn't come out of his room all day…"
"Ever since that soccer game, he hasn't come out," his father said, irritation creeping into his voice. "He hasn't even gone to school. What is he trying to do?"
"What do we do…? I don't know what to do anymore…"
"I'll go in and talk to him," his father said, stepping forward.
"But… is that okay? He never wants us to enter his room."
"Do we have any other choice?" Ken's father walked up to the door—and forced it open.
Inside was a clean, tidy room. Everything looked perfectly normal.
The only light came from the computer monitor—glowing as the single bright point in the room. Ken's father checked the balcony too, but Ken wasn't there either.
Ken's mother stepped closer and glanced at the lit screen.
The words on it made her body go limp as she fainted:
"I have nothing left in this world. Goodbye, useless things."
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