Chapter 44: Contracts, Capitalism, and Chosen Ones
(In which Digitamamon reveals his master plan and Naruto is suspicious of trickle-down economics)
With the ominous clack of Arachne's heels still echoing faintly in their ears, Naruto, Piximon, and Raikomaru found themselves finally able to breathe.
Well, sort of.
They were technically relaxing, sprawled out beside the old fountain in the city plaza, munching on some toasted data-bread Digitamamon's assistant had delivered in apology for "the mood earlier." Naruto even tried feeding crumbs to a curious Hagurumon passing by—but the gear Digimon only whirred and backed away.
Still, the tension had lessened. A little.
"I think we're good for now," Naruto muttered, arms behind his head, watching the digital clouds drift lazily overhead. "She's gone."
Raikomaru gave a low grunt. "She'll be back. That one doesn't leave things unfinished."
Piximon was still floating beside them, wingbeats slower than usual. He looked unusually serious. Unusual, because he was usually busy zipping in and out of conversations like a hyperactive hummingbird with caffeine addiction.
"Actually…" Piximon said slowly. "Now that she mentioned 'recruiting you', Naruto… I remembered something very important about Arachne."
Naruto sat up. "You what?"
Piximon scratched his head sheepishly. "Er, yes. I may have… forgotten to mention that she has the power to control other Digimon by planting parasites in them."
Silence.
"…Excuse me?" Naruto said, in the extremely dangerous tone of someone who had just been informed they were almost eaten by a monster that turns friends into zombie slaves.
"Oh, don't give me that look," Piximon said defensively. "She's famous for it! Or infamous, depending on which part of the Digital World you're in."
"She mind-controls Digimon?" Raikomaru asked, alarmed.
Piximon nodded. "Yes, yes—any Digimon weaker than her is easy prey. Even stronger ones, if they're mentally vulnerable. That's probably what she meant about 'recruiting you', Naruto. Not asking nicely over tea. More like—'let me shove a psychic parasite into your spine and turn you into my handsome puppet'."
Naruto's face paled. "Piximon. Buddy. Friend. You were supposed to mention this before she came into the city."
"I forgot!" Piximon threw his tiny arms in the air. "She's very distracting! Have you seen her boots?!"
Naruto groaned and fell backward onto the ground again. "Fine. Okay. When fighting starts—because it's definitely going to—we're going to need me handing out chakra cloaks like candy unless we want everyone to end up in her little spider-choir."
"I'd rather sing in a thunderstorm," Raikomaru muttered.
Just then, soft footsteps approached.
It was Gabumon. Not just a Gabumon—but Matt's Gabumon, the one who insisted everyone call him Alex for reasons no one really understood. He was fluffier than most and had a remarkably posh accent.
"Good afternoon," Alex said, nodding politely. "Matt sent me. He and the others have been thinking—and they believe we should properly work with Digitamamon to solve this problem."
Piximon puffed up. "That greedy egg? He charges a thousand bits for a cup of tea!"
"He also refused to sell us out," Alex pointed out calmly. "Despite your, ah, unique approach to diplomacy."
"We were just using him as bait," Raikomaru said flatly.
"Precisely. And yet he didn't throw us under the server-bus, did he?" Alex said, tail flicking. "Matt says it's wrong to assume someone is your enemy just because they're a… capitalist."
There was a pause.
"He is a capitalist," Piximon muttered darkly.
"True," Naruto said, rubbing his temples. "But if the others see something good in him… then maybe we've been unfair."
Piximon opened his mouth.
"Nope," Naruto cut in. "We'll be honest. We can't expect allies if we're playing sides all the time. Even if he's an egg with eyes and a questionable menu."
"He does make a decent omelette," Raikomaru added reluctantly.
"And that's weird, because he is an egg," Piximon replied with a shudder.
Naruto stood up and stretched. "All right then. Time to stop treating Digitamamon like a trap and more like an ally. We'll go talk to him properly this time."
"And if he still tries to overcharge us for breathing?" Piximon asked.
"Then I'll prank his restaurant with a thousand cockroach digimon during rush hour," Naruto grinned. "But politely."
Piximon stared.
Raikomaru smirked.
Alex sighed. "I'll go let Matt know you're open to negotiations. But please don't mention the cockroaches."
As the little group headed back toward the city square, spirits lightened just a bit, and the faint shadow of Arachne's threat began to fade—though not disappear.
Because the Digital World had rules… but Arachne didn't play by any of them.
And Naruto?
He was about to learn that being the light didn't mean staying out of the dark.
Sometimes, to fight monsters, you had to dance on the edge.
With chakra cloaks.
And cockroach pranks.
And one very, very grumpy capitalist egg.
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Digitamamon's office was not what anyone expected from an ancient, possibly demonic, capitalist egg.
For one thing, it had carpets. Rich red ones. And a lava lamp that seemed to be made from floating code particles. Behind his oddly pristine desk, a painting of himself—Digitamamon in a business suit, sipping digital wine—loomed proudly over everything.
Naruto looked at the framed quote underneath the painting:
"Trust in contracts. They outlive the world." – Me."
He squinted. "Did… did you quote yourself?"
Digitamamon swiveled in his floating egg-chair with a dramatic flair, the yolk-like glow inside him pulsating slightly. "Of course. If you don't trust your own brand, who will?"
Piximon let out a tiny groan and muttered, "Capitalists."
Matt leaned forward, his arms crossed on the desk. Joe sat beside him, nervously scribbling in his notepad like they were in a corporate meeting and not trying to stop the apocalypse. Which, to be fair, they were sort of doing both.
"Digitamamon," Matt said, "you've seen how dangerous Arachne is. She's not just chasing us for fun—she's got her sights set on Takeru."
The mention of Takeru's name made Digitamamon's shell dim slightly, like a blinking neon sign losing power.
"I know," he said. "I suspected something was off the moment that boy joined my restaurant without asking for any discounts. Not even a free drink."
Piximon blinked. "That's… that's your red flag?"
"Of course," Digitamamon said smoothly. "No one joins the service industry for free. Especially children. And especially blond children." He turned to Joe. "You two weren't exactly hiding your status either. Your Digimon have been evolving every Tuesday like clockwork. And humans? Rare. Especially the Yggdrasil-chosen ones."
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "So you've known this whole time? That we were the DigiDestined?"
Digitamamon nodded solemnly. "Indeed. To me, you're not just guests or employees. You're investments."
Matt's expression turned to stone. Joe looked up from his notebook, frowning.
"Investments?" Naruto repeated.
"Yes. You see," Digitamamon explained, leaning back like a professor with a PowerPoint. "The world ends. That's what worlds do. But the DigiDestined? You're marked by Yggdrasil. Which means when the new cycle begins, you don't just respawn like the rest of us. You matter. And your contracts—especially ones signed in good faith—matter too."
"So…" Piximon said, arms crossed. "You're helping us now so that when the world resets, we owe you. And you get to be rich again."
"Not rich," Digitamamon said modestly. "Just… comfortably upper class."
Naruto stared. "So your entire motivation is… future money?"
"Delayed gratification," Digitamamon confirmed. "It's the cornerstone of all responsible capitalism."
Joe blinked. "You do know we might not survive this, right?"
Digitamamon chuckled. "Even if you die, Yggdrasil will reformat you. The data always persists. And when it does—boom. I show up with my contract and say, 'Remember me?'"
Naruto leaned back in his chair and gave him a flat look. "So let me get this straight. You're willing to stand against a parasitic spider-queen because… you believe in long-term investment returns?"
"And in the sanctity of the contract," Digitamamon added, holding up a glowing scroll. "Which is magically bound, notarized by a Wisemon, and filed in the Interdimensional Record of Dealings."
Piximon slapped a wing over his face. "This world is going to be destroyed by bureaucracy, I swear…"
Matt was quiet, thoughtful. "Still. He hasn't betrayed us. And honestly, having someone who follows rules might be exactly what we need against someone like Arachne."
Joe adjusted his glasses. "It's weird… but I think I trust him. He hasn't lied once."
Naruto sighed. "Fine. We'll work together. But if this ends with you charging us rent in the afterlife—"
"Only if you get a premium reset," Digitamamon said cheerfully.
Piximon hovered closer to Naruto. "You do realize we're working with a glorified used car salesman in an egg shell, right?"
Naruto smirked. "Yeah. But at least he's our egg now."
The group stood to leave, heads buzzing with strategy, contracts, and uncomfortable amounts of economic theory. Outside, the sun was dipping beneath the code-horizon, and far away in the forest, something spider-like stirred in the shadows.
War was coming.
And oddly enough, their hopes might rest with a profit-obsessed egg with a ledger, a scroll, and a very strict return policy.
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It was, for a lack of better words, chaos wrapped in calamity and served with a side of digital doom.
The peace hadn't lasted even a single hour. Arachne, apparently not a fan of negotiations or waiting rooms, had responded with an army. Not a squad. Not a hunting party. An army. Hundreds—hundreds—of Champion and Rookie-level Digimon had swarmed from the forests like a living tidal wave, throwing themselves at the glowing city barrier like a black tide.
And behind them, moving with the slow, inevitable pace of destruction, came the Ultimates.
Dagomon, towering and tentacled, slithered forward with eerie grace, his eyes glowing like drowned stars. Groundramon thundered in behind him, each step shaking the city foundations. And Mamemon—well, Mamemon rolled in with all the fury of an angry bowling ball. Sure, he was on the weaker end of the Ultimate scale, but he had spirit, and more importantly, he had grenades.
Inside the walls, it wasn't much better. The city's defenders—a ragtag coalition of champions and rookies, ranging from Machmon's high-octane speed to DemiDevimon's sarcastic screeching—scrambled into formation. There was bravery in their eyes, yes, but also fear. Two Ultimate-level defenders—Digitamamon and the newly upgraded Rebellimon—stood as pillars of strength, but even they could not turn the tide alone.
Piximon fluttered into the air with a tiny, determined war cry. "Raikomaru! You with me?"
Raikomaru—Leomon with thunder in his fists and righteousness in his chest—nodded silently and launched himself into the sky, lightning crackling from his paws.
And then it came.
A red wave of chakra, blazing like firelight at dawn, spread through the air. It wrapped around every ally like a second skin, forming glowing cloaks of foxfire. Eyes lit up with renewed power. Speed increased. Roars and cries filled the air.
Naruto stood at the heart of it all, eyes calm, hands glowing. The one-tailed Kyuubi Chakra Cloak—gifted to every fighter on the field—was more than power. It was insurance.
"Mind control won't work through this cloak," he muttered. "And if it does, I'll fix it myself."
Takeru stood beside him, watching in awe as the Digimon on their side leapt into battle with renewed strength. Matt and Joe flanked them, eyes scanning the battlefield. None of them would join just yet.
A surprise attack only worked once, after all.
Digitamamon, still oddly serene, stood on the rooftop of his restaurant-turned-command-post. His gaze lingered on the horizon where Arachne had yet to appear. She was watching. Waiting.
"She's not here yet," the egg said, his voice almost reverent. "She's waiting for the cloak to run out. She thinks we'll burn ourselves out early."
Naruto turned toward him, his cloak flickering gently in the wind. "Then she doesn't know how stubborn I am."
Digitamamon turned his shell slightly. "Maybe. Or maybe she's just a better strategist than you think."
Naruto narrowed his eyes. "What's your angle, egg?"
The glowing lines in Digitamamon's shell pulsed faintly, like the lighting of a deal being struck.
"I have something that could help you. Something strong. Something dangerous."
Naruto crossed his arms. "And I'm guessing you don't do charity."
Digitamamon chuckled. "Please. I breathe contracts."
He opened his shell slightly, and inside was a scroll—shimmering, ancient, and humming with the unmistakable hum of battle-grade chrome digizoid.
"I'll lend you a weapon—Blade Kuwagamon."
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "You mean that mutant weapon Digimon? The one that can turn into a sword and slice clean through Chrome Digizoid armor?"
Digitamamon nodded. "Precisely. And he's been looking for a worthy wielder. But… there is a price."
Naruto sighed. "Of course there is. Lay it on me."
"When this battle is done, and if you survive…" Digitamamon's tone turned almost reverent, "you will repay me with an equal mass of Chrome Digizoid. No tricks, no substitutes. Pure. Refined. Signed."
Naruto looked out at the burning skyline, the trembling barrier, the Digimon risking everything under his chakra cloak.
He reached out and grabbed the scroll.
"Fine," he said. "Let's sign the contract."
Digitamamon smiled.
Magical seals flared. The scroll vanished. A sharp breeze swept through the air—and suddenly, the silhouette of Blade Kuwagamon shimmered into being beside Naruto, hovering like a spectral knight awaiting a wielder.
Digitamamon gave a pleased hum.
"A good choice," he said. "And some free advice—bond with Machmon. Ride him. Perhaps it will trigger something… special. You never know what this miraculous world holds."
Naruto's eyes flashed, watching Machmon tear through enemies below like a bullet on wheels.