Chapter 123: The Digital Realm

“This tunnel is so narrow!” Feng Xue grimaced, crawling on the ground. While children like Qiren could still bend over and walk, for Feng Xue, who stood nearly 1.9 meters tall, crawling was the only option.

That said, Feng Xue was not the most awkward one here—Lionmon had already gotten stuck three or four times.

Indeed, fallen angel-type Digimon were all slender, but for a muscular, burly figure like Lionmon, the tunnel carved out by Guilmon was simply too narrow.

As a result, Feng Xue and Lionmon could only proceed in an OTZ posture.

The tunnel was deep. Although they soon arrived at a “gate” digitized into the data realm, passing through it led to an unknown passage. Unlike the earthen tunnels dug by Guilmon, this passage was shrouded in darkness, with countless flickering symbols that danced between reality and illusion. The only light source was a glow ahead, resembling the exit of a tunnel.

Yet this passage was far longer than expected. Even with Feng Xue’s senses fully alert, it was hard to gauge how far the exit was, or even to confirm if that light was truly the exit.

They wandered aimlessly until suddenly, gravity disappeared—or perhaps it was not gravity that vanished, but direction itself!

“What is going on?” Even the usually composed Lionmon was taken aback, and the children began to cry out.

“There’s no ground here at all!”

“This feels really wrong...”

“It’s okay! Even without ground, we can still float!”

“But which way should we go?”

“Up? Or down?”

“No, this space has no concept of direction. Any direction points to the same place.” Feng Xue shook his head. He had never experienced this space before, but it seemed like a transit station. He could clearly feel his body shifting from flesh and blood back into data—a necessary process for entering the digital world.

“So, we have no idea?” Liu Ji’s face showed frustration.

“Well, maybe this way?” Shuli pointed randomly in a direction. Feng Xue felt a rush of data flow sweep through his body. The slow data transformation accelerated, and everyone suddenly lost the ability to float, falling in the direction Shuli had indicated. In that moment, that direction became down.

“Is this the power of consciousness?” Feng Xue felt no panic while falling, because...

“Foolish, I can fly!” Suddenly, Feng Xue unfurled his platinum wings and declared with a cheeky grin, scooping up Liu Ji in a princess carry, and followed the falling group.

“Are you sure it’s safe to fall like this?” Liu Ji, now out of the free-fall state, looked worriedly at their companions plummeting toward the ground. The height was at least four or five thousand meters. On Earth, falling from this height would be fatal.

“No worries. In the digital world, you can’t die from falling.” Feng Xue said calmly, holding Liu Ji as they descended slowly.

When they landed, the ground was dotted with several large crater-like holes.

“See? Even if the ground is smashed like this, they won’t be harmed.” Feng Xue pointed at the group who seemed stunned inside one of the craters, speaking carelessly.

“Hmph!” Liu Ji gave Feng Xue a knowing look and sat down, waiting for those in the crater to wake.

...

Kids are kids. After the initial excitement faded, the group’s mood suddenly sank. No purpose, no information, communication devices failed, and even food supplies were nearly gone. They seemed completely unmotivated to move forward. Yet...

“Look! There’s something over there!” Liu Ji, who had climbed the rocky wall, shouted, pointing in a direction.

Feng Xue knew well that no other humans were in the digital world at this time—Soul-state Shiguozi barely counted—and any antenna-like structure would be as useless as the phone booth joke from the first series. Yet he didn’t stop her, sensing that if they kept moving, they might encounter something crucial.

So the children’s hopes were dashed again, as the antenna-like object turned out to be just a rock wall.

“Here they come!” Feng Xue suddenly called out. Countless spherical data orbs rolled toward them like tumbleweeds in a Western film, covering the ground as if an invasion was underway.

Kenta and Bohe, the two boys without partners, were the most timid and tried to run backward, but Feng Xue caught them firmly.

“Why run? They’re just discarded data—like your world’s trashy plastic bags.”

Perhaps reassured by Feng Xue’s down-to-earth explanation, the boys calmed down. But then, the entire sky abruptly darkened.

“What now? Is that some powerful Digimon’s ultimate move?” Bohe screamed again.

“It’s just nightfall.” Lionmon sat calmly on the ground.

“Night already? No dusk? That’s too sudden!”

“Of course not. This is the digital world. Your watch doesn’t tell you if it’s evening or morning here. Time is only divided into AM and PM.” Feng Xue explained, though only Jianliang nodded. The others seemed confused, causing Feng Xue to worry about the knowledge level of these Japanese elementary schoolers.

At that moment, Feng Xue’s eyes sharpened. The other Digimon immediately assumed battle stances.

“What—” Before Qiren could finish, a voice sounded above them—

“Lava Bomb!”

“It’s Flamemon! Plague Shot!” Feng Xue’s eyes narrowed. The shortbow “Feast” appeared in his hand. Three arrows were nocked simultaneously, flying in a triangular formation. Flamemon hadn’t even reacted before being struck.

The yellow, purple, and black arrows turned into beams of light that penetrated Flamemon’s body. The next moment, Flamemon fell off the cliff, creating a crater upon impact.

Plague Shot — Yellow of Weakness: Weakens the target.

Plague Shot — Purple of Purification: Drains energy.

Plague Shot — Black of Wailing: Causes intense pain.

With all three effects combined, even Flamemon’s fiery body lost its fighting strength instantly.

“How can such a powerful Digimon be here?” Flamemon struggled weakly in the crater, unable to fight back due to weakness and energy loss, enduring searing pain with a bitter expression. “Come on, absorb whatever data or do whatever you want!”