Chapter Seventy-Four: The Call of the Real World (Part One)
“Holy Annihilation Arrow!” With a resounding shout, a streak of white light suddenly flashed, and in the blink of an eye, a Lesser Demon Beast was reduced to scattered fragments, its form dissolving into data that began to dissipate.
“Absorb!” Feng Xue spread his arms wide, as if embracing the very essence of nature. In response to this gesture, the data from the fallen Demon Beast surged toward him, rushing in a wild torrent. Normally, when a digital monster defeats another, it can absorb about a tenth of the data before it completely disperses. However, thanks to his Quincy abilities, Feng Xue could increase this rate to over ninety-nine percent. The only reason it wasn’t a full one hundred was due to the laws of the Digital World: after any digital monster perishes, a core of about one byte of data returns to the Village of Beginnings, reconstituting itself as a Digi-Egg.
This process transcends time and space—no matter the layer, no matter the slayer, even if it occurs in the real world, the rule holds true.
Yet, in practice, Feng Xue’s absorption rate was less than a quarter of that of an ordinary digital monster. The primary reason lay in the tangled complexity of the data that made up these creatures. In a Lesser Demon Beast, for instance, its core factors accounted for barely one-twentieth of its total data; in a Cocoon Beast, the proportion dropped to one fiftieth. Digital monsters new to the Mist Mirage Zone contained a somewhat higher proportion, but in general, the stronger the digital monster, the lower the ratio. The rest was a chaotic jumble of programs—viruses, viruses, and yet more viruses—the very source of the Virus-type’s power.
Within the Mist Mirage Zone, among the Nightmare Legion’s digital monsters, the dark factor composed about half of the core data at best, while the remainder was mostly beast factors. Some even harbored dragon or insect factors. (Any with even a trace of water factor would be transported to the Net Ocean or its shores, those with machine factors sent directly to the Steel Empire, and those with bird factors to the Domain of Wind—simply because flight in the Mist Mirage Zone was impossible.)
Feng Xue absorbed almost exclusively the dark factor. It wasn’t because he harbored any illusions of evolving into a Data or Vaccine type, but rather due to a theory of his own—
In the third series, there was a systematic explanation of how digital monsters materialized upon entering the real world: information, after undergoing quantum conversion, condensed into what appeared to be protein.
Yet what puzzled Feng Xue most was the so-called Digital Monster Arena—or Digital Field—the dense fog that accompanied the digital monsters’ descent.
According to his own investigation of his body, he realized that a digital monster’s shape, structure, and fundamental species framework were all constructed from these factors, while the rest of the data merely filled out the framework. Once the framework reached its capacity—when the data volume hit the threshold for evolution—all internal data would convert into the corresponding factors, and increasing those factors would in turn alter the creature’s form. This was the very process of a digital monster’s evolution: constantly seizing data, increasing its own data volume, and transforming it into factors.
So, when a digital monster arrived in the real world, its factors would convert into something akin to DNA, then into pseudo-proteins, forming the monster’s physical body. But where did the rest of the data go?
The answer was simple—it became haze, diffusing into the air to form the so-called Digital Monster Arena.
This was why, in the original story, those battle-hardened digital monsters newly arrived in the real world—who ought to have far surpassed the protagonist’s trio in both data volume and combat experience—seemed so underwhelming. The most glaring example was the IceDevimon being defeated by Guilmon. Even though Guilmon belonged to the ranks of the strongest rookie-level Digimon, IceDevimon was no weakling. Not only had he accumulated massive data from absorbing countless Digimon, but his combat experience alone was formidable. Moreover, IceDevimon, just a notch below Devimon, stood at the very pinnacle of the champion level; some champions like Devimon and Devidramon could even defeat weaker ultimates.
Even with the aid of two card power-ups, it was impossible to multiply a rookie’s data by thousands to bridge that gap.
Eliminating all impossibilities left only one explanation: when a digital monster crossed into the real world, all non-factor data would disperse, reverting the monster to the state it held just after its last evolution.
Indeed, Feng Xue’s practice of absorbing only factors was deliberate preparation for the real world.
At first, this idea hadn’t occurred to him. But five hundred years ago—every time he wrote those words, he thought of the Monkey King’s havoc in Heaven five hundred years past—he realized that simply drawing his bow and shooting arrows would no longer bring any improvement. In fact, now, as soon as the thought of firing an arrow crossed his mind, it was already loosed. He had reached something akin to the legendary state of “effortless archery.”
After that, he began to live out the digital monsters’ most primal way of life—hunting.
Through constant battles with both humanoid and beast-type digital monsters, sharpening his combat experience and refraining from using special abilities—instead relying on Bajiquan, flying scythe kicks, and AT fields—he not only acquired three new skills: “Hundred-Battle Martial Arts,” “High-Speed Movement,” and “Connection Severance,” but also achieved a far deeper mastery of Bajiquan.
By three hundred years ago, Feng Xue’s appearance had become markedly different from an ordinary Impmon. His hands were more humanlike, clad in white gauntlets that reached up to his elbows, and the red scarf around his neck had transformed into a Quincy’s white cloak, a manifestation of the excess holy factors within him. (The gauntlets already reached his elbows; any further and his entire arm would be encased, which would surely restrict his movement.)
His proportions had grown from a squat, three-head-tall form to a sleek six-heads-tall figure—similar in size to a Renamon. He was still shorter than a grown human, but far more well-proportioned, the streamlined muscles setting him apart from ordinary Impmon. This was the Digital World’s acknowledgment of his training. (The Digital World allows for evolution through training—for example, the famed Five Generals evolved through their devotion to justice and battles against powerful foes, maintaining a high win rate. BanchoLeomon, BanchoStingmon, and BanchoMamemon all evolved from champion form to their ultimate forms by donning the “school uniform,” while their champion forms, sans uniform, were simply taller, stronger, and more imposing than ordinary champions.)
Even then, Feng Xue hadn’t considered absorbing only factors—until he saw the door.
A door that appeared abruptly on the wilderness, like a rift in space.
Through its frame, Feng Xue could see another world—a children’s room, where a boy and a girl, about six or seven years old, were playing and bickering. An unseen force seemed to urge him onward, to step through that door…