Taking the glass of water from the owner, I retreated to the guest room and waited quietly for Owl's return.

　　About half an hour later, footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door pushed open, and a mature man stepped in. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties and was dressed in a retro style—less "literary" than the owner, but sharper. He was slightly shorter than Adam, roughly the same height as my Rosemon form. His voice was rich and magnetic, carrying an aura of quiet energy.

　　Without any preamble, he dropped a single sentence: "You seem to be recovering well."

　　I struggled to find a fitting reply, so I just tilted my head and offered an awkward, faint smile to break the tension. This was, without a doubt, my knight—the ebon hero who had snatched me from the pervert's clutches: Owl.

　　"The bastard downstairs (the Boss) probably told you plenty of 'stories' about me, didn't he? Forget them. That's all in the past." I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or just comforting himself, but I kept smiling nonetheless.

　　He then inquired about my physical condition. I told him I felt restored, with no lingering discomfort. He nodded, a relieved smile touching his lips. After a moment of thought, he suggested that given the circumstances, I might need to remain under observation for a while.

　　"How long?" I asked.

　　"I don't know. It’s hard to say."

　　He proposed that I join his raiding group, the "Free Birds." It would allow him to monitor my condition and give me a chance to help them in whatever capacity I could. Their "Support" position was currently vacant, and they urgently needed a Data-attribute Digimon to fill the gap.

　　"Was the Support position always empty before me?"

　　"No," he replied. "There was an Angewomon named Sparrow. She and the Substitute, Crane, were twin sisters. Sparrow passed away from an illness. Before she left, she transferred her data to her sister, which allowed Crane—a LadyDevimon—to evolve into Mastemon."

　　Owl promised that if I joined them, he would do everything in his power to help me find a way back to the real world.

　　"Are you confident?" I asked.

　　"No," he answered honestly. "But I will try. I will give it everything I have. I've made many friends in this space; beyond combat, their skills in other fields far surpass mine. With their help, we might find a lead."

　　He didn't really need to say all that. I trusted him because he had saved me. Besides, I was alone here, with no one else to rely on. Who else could I turn to?

　　"And if... one day, you find a way for me to return, but you don't want me to go? What if you hide it from me?"

　　"I won't," he said without a second's hesitation. "You'll be with me at all times, or I'll be with you. As long as we stay together, there's trust. And where there's trust, you won't need to ask such questions."

　　His final words were heavy, but they carried the weight of truth.

　　Fearing I might be useless—nothing more than a beautiful vase in their team—I asked, "What do you all actually do? How are you different from the regular Raiders who explore unknown territories?"

　　"I founded 'Free Birds' for a single purpose," Owl told me. "To find and destroy the system terminal of Midgard. To sever the connection between the real network and the Digital World. I admit, it sounds like we're hackers... Fine, we are. But we aren't here to steal; we're here to return this world to the Digimon as a sanctuary. Human exploration will eventually pollute the Digital World entirely. When that happens, it won't just be the Digimon who suffer; our own network space will be ruined. To prevent that, we must shut the door on humanity as soon as possible."

　　"Shut the door?" I pondered. "Then... would I still be able to go back?"

　　"That’s why your situation is the priority. We have to find a way to return you before we find the terminal."

　　I could feel the resolve he had held since the beginning. It proved he wasn't someone who forgot his roots. He was a man worth entrusting one's life to... a shame I was a Digimon now.

　　Suddenly, a massive commotion erupted downstairs. It sounded like something had exploded. I flinched, my hand shaking so hard I nearly dropped my glass.

　　"What's happening?"

　　"No idea. Let's find out."

　　I followed Owl out the door. Down at the bar, a young man in a denim jacket was being gripped by the collar by a woman with crimp-permed hair. They were in the middle of a heated argument.

　　The young man seemed to be an acquaintance of Owl's, as Owl immediately rushed down to the floor. I followed at a distance, making sure not to draw attention to myself. I had to remember: I wasn't just a person in a Digimon shell anymore; I was a Digimon.

　　Pushing through the noisy crowd, I found the Boss. He told me that the young man in denim was the Vanguard of the "Free Birds"—Falcon. Always energetic, his Digimon form was a CresGarurumon. He had reverted to his human form when he entered the bar, and apparently, his hand had "accidentally" brushed against the woman's backside.

　　The woman was the star of the "The 'Drink' Bar"—Queen, a TigerVespamon. She was notoriously petty, and the words "tolerance" or "understanding" weren't in her lexicon.

　　"Boss, you're the Guild Master. Is it really okay to talk about your own people like that?"

　　"So what? I'd say it to their faces," he whispered. "I saw the whole thing. It was a customer's bag that hit her. The Little Queen is just looking for trouble, and poor Falcon was the one she caught. Honestly, though, she's incredibly strong. She and Jade used to tear this place apart fighting. I've had to renovate more times than I can count. Her personality is as sharp as her name. Much as I hate to admit it, she feels more like the Guild Master here than I do."

　　"I don't understand," I said. "If you saw it, why don't you stop her?"

　　"I'm not obligated to," he replied dismissively. "I'm a Guild Master, not a babysitter. We're all adults here; life is stressful, and a little release now and then is understandable. Besides, this guild is... relaxed. Except during guild meetings, I let them do as they please. Any 'serious' guild wouldn't name itself after a bar, anyway."

　　He was playing his role as the bar owner perfectly—a spectator who never let a good drama go to waste, as long as the furniture wasn't smashed.

　　I was speechless. I turned back to see Owl standing in front of Falcon, prying Her Majesty's "noble" hand away. He was vouching for his teammate, hoping she would let it go.

　　"Thinking you can cop a feel and just walk away? You clearly don't know whose turf you're on!" Queen snarled.

　　"What do you want, then?" Owl asked calmly.

　　Queen's interest was piqued. She stepped forward, poking a finger into Owl's chest in a blatant provocation. "I've been looking for an excuse to kick your ass for a long time, kid. You want to dance with the Queen?"

　　"If that's what it takes," Owl replied in a low voice.

　　Wait—I didn't expect that. Would he really accept a duel just like that?

　　Falcon's fighting spirit was ignited by Owl's words. "Big Brother! This is my mess, let me handle it!"

　　"Stay calm," Owl said, his brow furrowing as he addressed Falcon in that same low tone. "Don't make it worse. You're no match for her. Stay on the sidelines."

　　"You know her that well?" Falcon asked.

　　"You bet..." Owl muttered.

　　Hearing this, the Queen herself wasn't about to have it.

　　Her eyes widened as she pointed a finger at Falcon's nose. "You brat! Who do you think you're looking down on? I was the 'Queen of Insects' while you were still a glint in your mother's eye! Today, I'm going to teach you some respect for women’s bodies, you little rodent!"

　　"Hey, hey, hey—"

　　The Boss finally spoke up, intervening before Falcon could retort with whatever insult he had ready.

　　"You three. If you're going to fight, take it outside. Don't disrupt my business. And as for the rest of you—if you're going out to watch, settle your tabs first. No credit for spectators."

　　As expected, nothing useful came out of his mouth.

　　But they respected the Guild Master enough to comply. The crowd flowed out of the bar into the clearing in front of the building. With the wind from the forest rustling through the leaves, the duel began.

　　Owl vs. Queen. BlackWarGreymon vs. TigerVespamon.

　　There was only one condition for victory: total defeat of the opponent, by any means necessary.

　　"Begin!"

　　The referee's call was meaningless, but it served as the spark.

　　In an instant, both Digimon took to the air, weapons drawn. Queen met Owl's Dramon Killers with her twin secret weapons, the Royal Conquests. Sparks flew as they clashed, the heat igniting dry grass in the rock crevices. Gale-force winds whipped out from their colliding light-blades.

　　Facing a fighter significantly faster than himself, Owl was forced to use his Dramon Killers purely for defense. He waited for an opening, utilizing his superior strength to parry her strikes. In a mid-air spin, he launched the Brave Shield from his back. It struck Queen squarely in her slender waist, causing a massive disruption in her data. The impact broke her flight momentum, and she crashed into the ground.

　　"Using your shield as a weapon? Not bad," she spat, pushing herself up.

　　"You aren't bad yourself," Owl replied.

　　He raised his arms, and the Brave Shield whistled back like a magnet, locking onto his back once more.

　　The second round began. TigerVespamon lunged forward first, her speed significantly higher than before—so much so that Owl couldn't dodge. He was forced to cross his arms in defense. The sheer force of her momentum pushed him back, his feet struggling to find purchase in the dirt.

　　As his attention wavered, Queen found her opening. While one light sword maintained the forward pressure, the other flicked upward from below, knocking Owl's arms aside. The razor-sharp blue blade severed the red metal cables on his chest. Owl stumbled back in a pathetic heap, tumbling a significant distance before rolling back to his feet.

　　"Try this on for size!" he barked.

　　He slammed his fists into the earth, gathering the latent energy of the Digital World into his palms. As he rose, he unleashed his signature move: Terra Destroyer.

　　Queen was a seasoned warrior; she didn't flinch. She met the attack head-on with her Mach Stinger V. A rapid succession of thrusts pierced through the sphere of dark energy like a needle through a balloon. The resulting V-shaped explosion of light served as her counter-riposte.

　　"That damn shield is annoying!" she screamed.

　　Watching Owl absorb her counter-attack with his Brave Shield, Queen's fury reached a new peak. She didn't care if he could hear her cursing as she charged again, blades raised.

　　"AAAAAAAGH! JUST—DIE—ALREADY!"

　　TigerVespamon held the high ground, her dive-bombing strike nearly impossible to tank. Owl immediately adjusted his strategy. He retracted his shield and launched himself into a Black Tornado, spiraling upward for a direct head-on collision.

　　The spectators were on the edge of their seats, oblivious to the danger of the shockwaves. Most of them had retreated to the safety of the bar's doorway, using the Boss as a human shield.

　　"Everyone, really?" the Boss sighed. "It’s one thing to drag me out here, but the bartender is innocent. If he gets hurt, who's going to pour your drinks?"

　　"We have hands!" someone yelled.

　　"Shut up! It's getting to the good part!"

　　The most anxious of all was Falcon. He had already switched to his CresGarurumon form, his grip tightening on his Yellow-Beast Crescent-Blade. He stood rigid, eyes glued to the sky, desperately rooting for his brother.

　　"Owl will win," I said, stepping up beside him. "Remember, birds eat insects. It’s the way of nature. It cannot be defied."

　　He looked at me with a blank expression, saying nothing. Then he looked back up, his eyes widening in shock. "It's over," he whispered.

　　A massive golden silhouette blurred across the sky. Before we could even process what it was, the figure had dropped between Owl and Queen, his massive hands catching their respective strikes from both sides.

　　"Wha—what is that!?"

　　I was stunned by the sight. It was a terrifyingly large golden figure—from below, it looked like a colossal Hercules beetle.

　　"HerculesKabuterimon," Falcon sighed, his tension finally breaking. "The Boss finally had enough."

　　He sat down on the ground, exhaling a long breath as he reverted to his human form.

　　The Guild Master, in his Digimon form, guided the two combatants back to the ground. Upon landing, he immediately reverted to his human self, clutching his palms and howling in pain. Between groans, he scolded the two of them.

　　"OW! OW! OW! DAMMIT! You two... you really don't pull your punches, do you? Hey! Listen to me! A duel should have some decorum! 'Pull your punches,' do you understand? Don't ruin our cooperation. As they say, 'take a step back today, stay friends tomorrow'..."

　　Surprisingly, he was a decent mediator.

　　Out of respect for him, the bad blood between Owl and Queen was settled, and the duel was officially over.

　　"Look at you two. Even Chrome Digizoid has its limits," the Boss said, flicking his finger against their metallic bodies. "Same old rule: head over to the Hephaestus Workshop and get yourselves patched up. Put the bill for the alloy data on my tab. Understood? And the rest of you—shows over! Go on, get!"

　　The Boss's generosity was legendary. I began to understand why he was so respected. Compared to the boisterous cowards he shielded, he was a class act.

　　"Boss, that was exciting! Barkeep, drinks on the house?" someone shouted.

　　"Like hell! You want me to go bankrupt? And you—didn't you skip out on your tab last time? Dammit, nobody skates on my watch! Quick—get him! Whoever catches the freeloader drinks for free!"

　　With a single command, a swarm of people poured out of the bar, chasing the debtor out of the guild territory. Only Owl and I—hiding by the door—and Falcon, sitting on the roof, remained.

　　"Big Brother, they're gone... far, far away," Falcon called down.

　　Owl immediately brightened. "Quick, get in there and grab some glasses before he gets back!"

　　I watched in disbelief as the two men scrambled into the bar. Apparently, this was what they had been waiting for.

　　Watching them bustle around the bar, I began to worry about my future here. I couldn't blame them, really. The Boss's prices were exorbitant; it was common practice for dozens of people to share a single drink. Most tables were cluttered with empty glasses, though they were all disturbingly clean—barely a drop wasted. I could only imagine what the bartender was thinking seeing a sea of pristine glassware.

　　A pair of coughs sounded behind us. The two men froze and, just like me, turned toward the source.

　　Her Majesty the Queen was waddling there, holding a massive mug and swaying unsteadily as she weaved through the tables to collect every leftover drop from the abandoned glasses. Seeing us staring, she offered a smug explanation: "A good vintage should never go to waste. Only a clear mirror reflects still water."

　　Whatever. I was already used to the nonsense coming out of their mouths. "The 'Drink' Bar"—where the members were exactly like their Guild Master. Not a single "serious" soul among them.

　　This guild was hopeless.