Tyutyumon sat atop his throne of corpses, his tiny claws digging into the flesh of the fallen Digimon below him. His sharp mind worked furiously, calculating every possibility, but the answer eluded him.
Tracking them down was the problem.
He knew the Tamers were fast—they had evaded his traps before. They were not reckless fools who charged blindly into danger. They were cautious, methodical, and worst of all, strong.
That was both a blessing and a curse for him.
If they had been weak, they would have been worthless prey. Their deaths would have brought no satisfaction. But their strength meant they were worth devouring. Worth breaking.
The question was how.
Where could he spring the trap?
How could he keep a lock on them long enough to make his move?
His thoughts were interrupted.
"Tyu, the bad guys have not been found. What are we going to do?"
Tyutyumon's black eyes flicked toward the source of the voice.
Damemon.
The metallic mutant Digimon was standing there, his golden limbs twitching as he clumsily juggled a piece of data meat in his hands. He was oblivious to the weight of the situation, his dim-witted mind unable to comprehend the complexity of Tyu's plans.
Tyutyumon resisted the urge to lash out.
Instead, he gave his pawn a friendly smile—one that did not reach his eyes.
"Just eat quietly, Dame. I am thinking."
Damemon was an idiot.
A creature born from the waste of the Digital World, an accident, a reject—but also Tyu's strongest pawn. Alone, Damemon would be killed by any Champion-level Digimon. He was too slow, too dumb to function on his own.
But with Tyutyumon guiding him?
He became whole.
That was why Damemon could never reach the Mega stage—his mind was too weak to handle it alone.
But Tyutyumon had plans for him.
He had been feeding him data, preparing him for the Ultimate evolution. Soon, Damemon would become something greater, something worthy of ruling over the weaklings of this forest.
"Kill Cherrymon, and the territory is mine," Tyu reminded himself.
That was the goal. Cherrymon was the only real threat in the forest, the last obstacle between him and absolute control.
Once Cherrymon was gone, no one could challenge him.
His rule would be unchallenged.
But first…
The Tamers had to die.
"But, there is a guest."
Tyutyumon's head snapped to the side, his stitched mouth curling in displeasure.
Standing at the edge of his den was a humanoid dragon cyborg—the cold, calculating assassin of the D-Brigade.
Sealsdramon.
Tyutyumon felt his small body tense instinctively.
This was bad.
Sealsdramon was a Hitman Digimon, a cold-blooded executioner trained to eliminate targets with precise efficiency.
Damemon couldn't fight him.
Even Tyutyumon's army would be slaughtered in seconds if the assassin decided to act.
But the Sealsdramon did not move to attack.
Instead, he looked down at Tyutyumon with the air of someone staring at filth beneath their feet.
"Seize your sniveling. I am not here to kill you."
Tyu swallowed his pride and remained silent.
Sealsdramon's red visor glowed faintly in the dim light as he continued.
"The Tamers today are very important. We want them dead. I can't interfere directly, but my team will attack them, and I will provide you with a way to get them.
A small metal beetle detached from Sealsdramon's wrist and buzzed toward Tyutyumon, landing at his feet.
"Use this to locate them and make sure they are dead. You have one week to finish the task."
Tyutyumon's claws dug into the dirt, his mind boiling with rage as he watched the assassin turn and leave, never once looking back.
Not a shred of respect.
Not even acknowledgment.
To Sealsdramon, Tyutyumon was nothing.
A disposable pawn.
The moment the assassin was gone, Tyutyumon's tiny body shook with fury.
His claws tore into the ground, his stitched mouth twitching violently as the hatred in his heart burned brighter than ever.
He hated the D-Brigade.
He hated the Tamers.
He hated everything.
No matter what he did, no matter how strong he became, there was always someone stronger, always someone who looked down on him.
He was never good enough.
But they were wrong.
He would prove them all wrong.
His beady black eyes flickered toward the metallic beetle at his feet—Searchmon, a tracking Digimon used by the Metal Empire for reconnaissance.
With this, he could track the Tamers no matter where they went.
"You shouldn't have made me angry…"
A slow, twisted grin spread across his stitched mouth.
He would make them suffer before he killed them.
He would humiliate them, break them, and crush their spirits before he delivered the final blow.
These Tamers always tested the field for a few days before setting up camp.
His red-gloved hand reached out, carefully picking up the small metal insect that Sealsdramon had left behind.
Searchmon.
A living reconnaissance tool, a Digimon whose sole existence was to gather intelligence and track targets with perfect accuracy. If this thing locked onto the Tamers, they wouldn't be able to hide.
That meant Tyu wouldn't have to waste resources or risk exposure.
It was useful.
But it also proved what he had always known.
The D-Brigade didn't care about anyone below their rank. They didn't care about alliances or respect. They were only interested in results.
Tyu's stitched mouth twitched slightly, but he shoved down his anger.
This was not the time for pride.
This was the time to play along.
He turned back to Damemon, who was still stuffing his face with what remained of their last hunt.
"Dame," he said, his voice smooth despite the burning rage in his chest, "we will play along. But first… we make sure they regret ever coming here."
Damemon grinned through a mouthful of meat, his golden limbs twitching in excitement.
"Ooooh! A game? I like games!"
Tyu's black eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he let the Searchmon crawl onto his arm, its small metallic legs clicking softly against his fur.
Yes.
A game.
One where the Tamers would learn what true suffering was before they died.
The Tamers were fast. They were cautious. They were powerful.
But they had patterns.
And Tyu had been watching.
Three days had passed since the team began their deep training and exploration. Unlike before, they no longer lingered in the forest overnight, always returning to the city when the day ended.
Their routine was structured yet adaptive—training, exploring the city, and mapping out the wilderness.
For their Digimon partners, the training intensity was lowered to keep them from burning out, considering they were still constantly moving and fighting in the field. However, one person remained an exception—Naruto.
He had no reason to slow down.
His power was constantly increasing, a never-ending tsunami of growth that only seemed to accelerate with every battle. Unlike the others, every encounter, every training session, and every sparring match pushed him beyond his limits, like a blade being forged in fire.
Even outside of battle, Naruto stayed busy.
He kept in touch with Young, Na So Ri, and Mi Jung, strengthening his bonds with them. Their relationship was deepening, moving beyond simple acquaintanceship toward a more familial, team-like camaraderie.
And during the nights?
That was when Morrigan and Eve visited him, often accompanied by Ruri and Hilda.
Unlike the others, they had free access to come and go, given that they had yet to be fully deployed on any mission. But Naruto knew the nature of their work—sometimes, they would vanish for weeks or even months without warning.
However, no matter how long they were gone, at least one of them would always remain at his residence, ensuring he was never truly alone.
Naruto also received calls from Rias, who was deeply curious about his experience in this world. Their conversations were filled with exchanges of knowledge, strategies, and personal thoughts, allowing them to keep their sibling-like bond alive, despite the distance.
Menma and their parents also reached out, checking in on him—especially Kushina, who pestered him with motherly concern.
As for Mio and Yurine, they had departed to complete unfinished business, which meant he hadn't seen them in days.
It was only a few days, but the difference in the team was noticeable.
They had gone from a group of skilled but inexperienced individuals to hardened warriors—each of them battle-tested, their reactions sharpened by combat and the constant need to survive.
The nervous energy was gone.
There were no more hesitations, no more knee-jerk movements.
They fought with precision, moved with purpose, and worked as a singular unit, a well-oiled machine.
They had faced the D-Brigade before, but those encounters had been brief skirmishes—tests, nothing more. The real fight was yet to come.
And the team knew it.
Which was why, on the fifth day, they made a decision.
They would stay in the forest overnight.
The location they chose was strategic.
They set up camp close to the mountain range, using the natural barrier behind them as a defensive wall.
Towering trees surrounded them, providing additional cover. But Naruto took it a step further.
Using his elemental manipulation, he crafted layered metal walls, reinforcing their perimeter from the sides and the front, ensuring that if an attack came, the enemy would only have a limited number of angles to approach from.
Even the roof was covered, ensuring they were protected from aerial assaults.
But their true defenses weren't just the barriers—they had prepared for this battle well in advance.
Invisible wires, traps, and defense equipment were carefully placed in key locations.
Explosives had been strategically positioned throughout the area, ready to detonate at a moment's notice.
Even landmines had been planted in carefully chosen locations.
They weren't expecting a peaceful night.
Not after their past encounters with the D-Brigade.
The enemy had been watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike.
And this?
This was the moment they had been waiting for.
But what the enemy didn't know…
Was that the team was waiting for them, too.
The Hunters Prepare for War
Rika had climbed onto an elevated vantage point, her sniper rifle steady in her hands, her sharp eyes watching for any sign of movement.
Henry had set up a mounted machine gun, his fingers resting near the trigger, ready to mow down anything that approached.
Each member of the team had taken up positions, their battle instincts sharp, their nerves steady.
There was no fear.
No doubt.
Only preparedness.
This was war, and they were ready to fight.
And if necessary…
They were ready to run.
Not out of cowardice.
But because survival was key.
They weren't going to let themselves be slaughtered in a pointless battle. They would fight, learn, and retreat when necessary, ensuring that they could come back stronger.
For Naruto, this was an entirely new experience.
He had fought powerful enemies before. He had stood against armies.
But this?
This was different.
He had never been in a situation where an army would attack him overnight, where the enemy had planned his destruction with such precision and patience.
There was something unnerving about being hunted like prey.
But that only fueled his fire.
Because if they thought he was prey…
Then they were in for a rude awakening.
Naruto smirked as he clenched his fists, his chakra thrumming with power.
"Come on, then."
"Let's see what you've got."
The night was young…
And the storm was coming.