Because he couldn't pay the bill, Joe had to stay behind and work it off. The problem was, he had zero talent for cooking. Everything he made turned customers off, so his "work period" kept getting extended.
That night, after a full day on his feet, Joe collapsed onto the bed, miserable as he replayed the day: burned the food while cooking, dropped and shattered a plate while serving…
Gomamon's boss, Digitamamon, kept chanting from the side, "Dock his pay, dock his pay, dock his pay."
Joe felt like his life had gone pitch-black. "Am I really going to be stuck here forever?" he sighed. He took off his glasses and, clinging to a tiny hope for tomorrow, drifted off.
Outside the window, DemiDevimon was keeping watch on Joe, waiting for him to fall asleep so he could steal his Crest. "If I can't beat your Digimon, I can just steal from you instead. Heh, let me find someone even greener than you."
In the dead of night, a dark figure snuck into Joe's room. DemiDevimon rummaged around for the Crest. "Where is it? Where is it?"
He yanked open Joe's backpack and pawed through it. "Where is it?" Just then Joe rolled over. DemiDevimon looked up—only to see a huge body coming down on him, squashing him flat. His eyes bulged; he was almost pancaked. He gritted his teeth and didn't dare make a sound for fear of waking Joe. Joe mumbled something in his sleep and rolled again. DemiDevimon wriggled free—only for Joe to swat in his sleep and smack him so hard he went flying out the window and nose-dived into the ground. Furious, DemiDevimon snarled, "You rotten brat!"
"Thunk." Something sailed out from Joe's room and bonked DemiDevimon on the head. "Keep it down," Joe muttered, then went quiet again.
DemiDevimon: "…"
Meanwhile, Matt and T.K., with their partners, had finally reached an amusement park. A theme park in the Digital World—who even comes to play here? The moment T.K. saw the rides, his eyes turned into stars. He grabbed Patamon and dashed in, laughing as the two of them played. Seeing his little brother smile—a look Matt hadn't seen since they arrived in the Digital World—Matt finally let himself relax.
Day after day at the park, T.K. handled the fun, while Matt handled the cooking. When the food was ready, he'd call T.K. over from whatever ride he was on. Time flowed by like that. It was the calmest stretch they'd had since coming to the Digital World—no enemies attacking, no grueling treks. Quiet days, but ones that left Matt and T.K. deeply content.
Since arriving, it had been panic after panic: enemies showing up one after another, nonstop battles and desperate retreats—defeat one and another would appear. They'd finally brought down Etemon, and at last peace had descended. "If things stayed like this, just like this until we figure out how to get home…I wouldn't mind," Matt thought as he sat by the river, playing his harmonica while Gabumon listened at his side. He set the harmonica down and looked up at the sky with a sigh. "I wonder how everyone else is doing. Did they find a way back? Izzy went off to look for Gennai—did he find him? Tai stayed behind at the pyramid—how's that going?" He glanced at T.K. and Patamon giggling their way from one game to the next, and at Gabumon, who was wondering why the music had stopped. Matt gathered himself and set the harmonica to his lips again. The gentle notes floated along the riverbank, now and then mingled with T.K. and Patamon's laughter. How long could such a warm scene last?
Elsewhere, Izzy and Tentomon were hurrying this way along the riverbank. He'd learned there was a new enemy, but the other kids didn't know it yet.
Myotismon's plans were already in motion; before that, he wanted to "pay the children a visit." Time was running out.
Back to Joe: maybe practice really does make perfect. His cooking had gone from awful to astonishing, drawing customers who insisted on ordering only Joe's dishes. Now it wasn't DemiDevimon trying to keep Joe around—it was Digitamamon, who offered a fat paycheck to convince him to stay. Joe had planned to leave the moment his debt was repaid, but Digitamamon pleaded with him: customers wouldn't touch food unless Joe made it. The other cooks had been relegated to Joe's assistants. With high pay and heartfelt begging—and nowhere else to go anyway—Joe decided staying wasn't so bad. He had food and a bed, and he could earn some Digital World money; you can't get by without cash.
DemiDevimon, on the other hand, was having a miserable time. At first he just couldn't find an opening. After days of watching and figuring out Joe's routine, he finally tried to make a move—only for Digitamamon to stonewall him. If Joe lost something and stormed off accusing the restaurant of being unsafe, they'd regret it forever. Out of respect for Myotismon, Digitamamon hadn't kicked DemiDevimon out, but he was "accidentally" protecting Joe so often that DemiDevimon never got a chance. In the daytime, Gomamon stuck close, making a grab impossible. At night, Digitamamon parked himself outside. DemiDevimon wasn't about to test how far Digitamamon would go in the name of "Myotismon's face." He might be just a Rookie, but earning Myotismon's trust proved he had brains.
Right now he hated that very brain of his. Why had he ever thought trapping Joe here was a good idea? He'd tied his own hands. Thinking of Myotismon's punishments sent a chill through him. He swore to himself he would get that Crest.
Izzy and Tentomon followed the river, letting the Digivice guide them toward their friends. Watching his own dot inch closer to two other red dots, Izzy gripped the Digivice. "Almost there. We'll be back together soon."
Back at the amusement park, T.K. and Patamon were still having a blast. They'd just finished a loop on the roller coaster and climbed out, exhaling in unison. They exchanged a look and grinned. Then Patamon suddenly glanced to the side, his expression turning serious.
"What's wrong, Patamon?" T.K. asked.
"They're here."
"Who's here?"
"A dark power is approaching."
By the river, Matt sensed it too. Clouds rolled in and swallowed the sky. He dropped his fishing rod and ran with Gabumon back toward the park.
"T.K.! T.K.!" Matt shouted the moment he burst through the gate.
"Matt, I'm here!" T.K. ran to him with Patamon.
"You okay?" Matt all but wanted an X-ray to check his little brother over.
"I'm fine."
Reunited, the brothers looked up at the bank of clouds overhead. The darkness thickened, and from it flew an antique, ornate carriage. A Devidramon hauled it through the air, and in the driver's seat stood Phantomon. That alone said plenty about the one inside.
The carriage stopped, the door swung open, and a cloaked figure dropped lightly to the ground. The cloak unfurled, revealing a vampire-like Digimon.
Gabumon stepped forward, shielding Matt. "It's Myotismon. He's an evil Digimon."
"What do you want, Myotismon?" Matt demanded. T.K. shrank behind his brother.
Myotismon smiled slightly. "Hand over your Crests, Chosen Children, and I might spare your lives."
"In your dreams. Not happening," Matt shot back.
"Yeah! We're never giving you our Crests!" T.K. blurted, then ducked back again.
"Seems I'll have to take them myself."
Sensing danger, Gabumon jumped straight to Garurumon and lunged. Myotismon flicked his arm and swatted Garurumon aside as if he were nothing.
"I'm going too," said Patamon—holy light flashed, and Angemon appeared before Myotismon.
Myotismon raised his cape to block the radiance of the evolution. "That hateful light."
Angemon seized the moment; "Hand of Fate!" His fist of light sent Myotismon skidding back.
Myotismon rose, eyes cold. "How annoying. Crimson Lightning!" A blood-red whip formed between his hands and lashed at Angemon. Angemon caught it on his holy staff. Garurumon charged back in; the two flanked Myotismon and engaged at close quarters—so focused that none of them noticed the hooded figure standing at the treeline beyond the park, silently watching.
"Grisly Wing!" A storm of bats erupted from Myotismon's body and swarmed Angemon. Angemon fended them off in a flurry, but Myotismon surged in and hammered him into a wall. Not satisfied, he pressed the attack, Crimson Lightning cracking again and again. Angemon cried out in pain.
"Angemon!" T.K. called to his partner.
"T.K…," Angemon forced his eyes open at the sound of his name, but the whip kept him pinned.
Garurumon lay off to the side, struggling and failing to rise after Myotismon's blow.
Myotismon seemed done playing. He lifted into the air toward Matt and T.K. "Even if you give me the Crests now, it's too late."
Shadows shaped like bats seeped from his cloak—his special technique, a deadly wail that could turn victims to stone. The attack hurtled toward the brothers.
Matt wrapped T.K. up and turned his body to shield him, eyes squeezing shut.
"Matt!" Garurumon lifted his head and saw it coming, horror flooding his face.
"T.K.!" Angemon tried to move to protect his partner, but his body wouldn't obey.
Seeing them in that peril, the hooded watcher in the woods murmured so only he could hear, "Looks like it's my turn. It's been a long time since I used this." Lost briefly in memory, he raised a hand that began to glow—then the glow turned black. With a flick, that black-shrouded light shot toward Garurumon. Wrapped in darkness, no one noticed the beam at all.
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