The network world of 1995 was even more chaotic than Chen Ze had imagined.
Encrypted data streams, disorganized garbage signals, meaningless strings of characters…
In Chen Ze's eyes at this moment, what had been purely informational suddenly took on physical form, becoming torrents of visible "interference."
It felt as though they'd dived headfirst into a sewer yet to be cleaned, as messy currents of raw data slammed relentlessly into both Chen Ze and Renamon.
This was Chen Ze's first time entering the digital realm as a living data entity; even his past virtual avatars had never gone this deep.
"It's way more chaotic than I expected."
Drifting effortlessly through the ocean of information, Chen Ze quickly adjusted to the interference, swiftly reconstructing his digital body into Agumon's form.
Renamon, who'd adapted even faster, had already regained her true shape, standing unmoved amidst the chaotic barrage of data streams.
"It's my first time seeing such a primitive cyberspace, too," Renamon commented, a hint of awe in her usually calm voice as she surveyed the scene.
Never had she imagined that the network world, in its earliest stage, was this disorganized.
Countless miscellaneous signals, most of them not even encrypted, passed freely along rudimentary network cables stretching out across the world without any coherent system.
Such a scenario would be unimaginable in the future 21st century, where communication was dominated by highly secure, compressed signals across multiple frequency bands.
"Looks like…a love confession email?"
Chen Ze casually intercepted a passing message, causing it to instantly unfold between his claws like a handwritten letter.
In the highly advanced networks of the 21st century, such a message would've instantly landed in someone's inbox or been projected directly onto a screen. Intercepting it casually mid-transmission was utterly impossible.
Yet now, not only was it intercepted with ease, but the message's contents were immediately decoded by the Digital Core.
The process was fluid, instantaneous—as though the email's encryption never existed.
"Now this…this is real cheating!"
Chen Ze hadn't used any cracking software at all. The powerful computing ability of the Digital Core alone effortlessly deciphered the message upon first contact.
"Encryption in this era is just too primitive. Even a Fresh-level Digital Core can easily decode these messages," Renamon added, also casually intercepting another data stream.
However, unlike Chen Ze's "letter-reading" method, Renamon absorbed the information directly into her body—a true Digimon's way of "reading."
"But precisely because encryption is so primitive, useful information here is terribly sparse."
Compared to the highly encrypted, compacted files she remembered, these early messages took up far too much "memory."
"Consuming such crude data long-term would degrade the Digital Core's efficiency, and frequent information turnover would directly impact our lifespan."
As she spoke, Renamon recalled the legendary Ancient-species Digimon of the Digital World—powerful yet notoriously short-lived.
Though the exact circumstances might differ, she imagined ancient Digimon similarly surrounded by chaotic, redundant data—surely a harsh environment indeed.
"So, like a hard drive? Excessive usage shortens its lifespan?"
Chen Ze rarely heard Renamon speak so openly about the Digital World, so he readily abandoned the intercepted "love letter"—it would fail anyway if the sender didn't even dare to confess in person.
"That analogy isn't perfect, but yes, it's essentially the same."
Renamon nodded slightly, releasing the data stream she'd absorbed, letting it drift back into the sea of chaos.
Rather than meaningless junk messages, what she truly needed were rarer, stronger vaccine-type data fragments—data that could fuel her future evolution.
This clearly set Renamon apart from other Rookie-level Digimon: her current strength already allowed her to freely choose the path of her future evolution.
"Found it!"
Just as Chen Ze was about to ask more questions, Renamon's eyes suddenly flashed with excitement.
A storm of data surged around them, lifting both of them upward and propelling them forward, rapidly against the currents of information toward their target—the surveillance data center of Japan's Metropolitan Police Department.
In a future era, Renamon wouldn't have dared to infiltrate the police database, despite its wealth of enticing data.
But this was different. In 1995, when the network world was still an infant, the Metropolitan Police Department's valuable data was like an unlocked treasure trove, ripe for Renamon's picking.
Indeed, this was why Renamon chose to abandon Chen Ze's hacker approach, opting instead for a Digimon's method of intrusion—she sought not only to delete surveillance footage but also to take advantage of this moment to grow stronger.
Whoosh—!
Far quicker than Chen Ze anticipated, Digimon, being pure digital lifeforms capable of freely traversing cyberspace, moved through the network at speeds matching electromagnetic waves.
Within mere moments, Renamon had broken through layer after layer of virtual barriers, finally stopping before a massive, towering "electronic wall."
"A firewall?"
It was an immense digital structure, seemingly infinite in scope—the physical manifestation of a firewall, for which physical dimensions meant nothing.
Wherever Chen Ze looked, greenish patterns occasionally flickered, sprawling endlessly beyond his field of vision.
Aside from that faint, ghostly glow, this massive firewall had no other defining features—just a silent wall at the end of the digital world.
"So this is…the firewall of Japan's Metropolitan Police Department?"
A mix of astonishment and awe filled Chen Ze's voice. Staring at this massive electronic wall that defied every law of physics, he felt acutely the fundamental differences between humans and Digimon.
"Yes. This is what a firewall looks like within cyberspace."
In stark contrast to Chen Ze's reaction, Renamon had already encountered countless firewalls before. To her experienced eyes, this massive digital barrier was utterly predictable.
Despite appearing impressive and imposing to Chen Ze, to Renamon—who'd breached innumerable, far more complex firewalls—this one was incredibly primitive and crude.
Apart from a large computational base created by stacks of servers, the firewall's internal structure wasn't even as robust as the personal computer Chen Ze had once built himself.
Renamon could think of countless ways to bypass such a firewall. But at this moment, she chose the simplest—disguise.