Shortly before the start of service for Digimon Liberator...

　Cool Boy, a silver-haired young man who serves as the operations manager and lead GM, was looking down at the vast view of Lacuna from the window of a towering building in Jewel.

　Debugging teams can be seen here and there doing final checks before the game launch. No major problems have been found so far, and the game has been well received by players and web media writers who participated in the beta test.

　If this continues, the launch plan should proceed without a hitch. Cool Boy fights back against the relief that spreads through his chest.

　Liberator was developed to protect the Digimon of Lacuna, but ostensibly, since it is a game, it needs the support of many players. If it's not well-received, I.D.E.A. has reserved the right to reconsider the whole project itself.

　Naturally, everything that could possibly be done has been done to avoid that outcome. Aggressive PR activities after the project announcement to internal politics to promote Liberator as a flagship project to the board. Neither of which are Cool Boy's real forte. He couldn't have gotten this far without the cooperation of the entire team.

　...That said, the real challenge is yet to come.

　He tightens his expression, pushing down the sense of relief that wells up in his chest and the feeling of languid exhaustion that spreads from between his eyes. It seems unlikely that he will get any proper rest until the conclusion of the world championship, a big event for the Digimon Card Game itself, and the game launch immediately after.

"Hey. Cool Boy."

　Even so, there was a hint of dissatisfaction in his voice when a visitor showed up at his office without an appointment during this busy time. Especially when the other person has a taut smile on their face.

"I'm busy right now, Zenith."

　Responding to these words, the guy who had come into the room, Zenith, makes an exaggerated gesture to appease him.

"You sound like a typical overworked manager. C'mon, cut that out—you're going to be in the public eye from now on."

"The final is imminent, and you're the challenger at that. Is this really the time to be loafing around in a place like this?"

"I came for a good reason. I've been practicing plenty, but today I didn't have anybody to test my skills against. So..."

　Zenith gave a composed grin and picked up a new device that also served as a deck case: The D-Storage.

"Play a game against me, Cool Boy."

“I appreciate the work you do on a daily basis, Zenith."

"So you intend to refuse, huh? Bah..."

"That really hurts," Zenith said, narrowing his eyes. Cool Boy just shrugged.

"I really am grateful to have someone like you—a genius, a force of nature, one of the best overall gamers out there. Thanks to your fame, we saw a huge boost in the number of players registering in advance after you announced your participation. It's been great to have a debugger who also offers a pro gamer's perspective."

"Yeah, thanks for all that. In fairness, T.A.L.E. was very immersive even in the early stages, but it was still too "human" and difficult to control. The human body's excess sensitivity was making it hard to play comfortably at times."

　You can praise me a bit more, you know? - That's what Zenith's smile seemed to say as he returned his callous gaze back to Cool Boy.

"But just because I'm grateful to you doesn't mean you have free reign over my time. First of all, I'm not a player."

"No way, my eyes don't deceive me. I'm sure you can more than hold your own."

"Even if I could, it would be up to me to decide if I wanted to use those abilities in a battle of wits."

"I wonder... Don't you think that those who have great power have an obligation to use it?"

"Not necessarily."

"Come on, I'm really begging you here. Of course, I still can win without further prep. I have no intention of losing. It's just that this time, my opponent is none other than Owen Dreadnought. I want to make sure I have everything together."

　As Zenith continues to press him, Cool Boy sighs again. He may say some reasonable things, but in the end he's no different from a child throwing a tantrum and demanding to be allowed to play.

"Even though I'm not involved in card design, I'm still a member of the development team. I can't take sides between you and Owen. If rumors of collusion with the developers spread, it would damage your reputation as a challenger."

"Reputation? Do you mean how the audience perceives me?"

　Zenith smirks.

"I don't give a damn about that. And that's why I'm begging you."

"..."

　Cool Boy looks at him, surprised by the straightforward response. No matter how much he stared into those sharp, narrow eyes, he couldn't figure out what Zenith hoped to gain from competing against him.

　And that wasn't all. Cool Boy has known Zenith for almost a year through the closed beta, and yet, he still hasn't been able to decipher his motivations as a player.

　He's friendly and gets along well with his teammates on the debugging team, but he never reveals his true feelings. More to the point, he couldn't even tell if the gentle smile on his face was genuine or not.

　What's more, he tended to always look the same in the private photos that fans occasionally posted of him on social media. Most of the sightings were at fast food restaurants, such as gyudon chains. The photographs, which he always readily agreed to, pleasing fans, showed him wearing classy brand-name clothing, but no overly expensive accessories like watches or jewelry. It was difficult to find any sense of life or humanity in him.

"Plus, it seems like Vemmon has been feeling bored lately."

　A purple Digimon appears next to Zenith. Although a deeply mysterious Digimon, Vemmon's behavioral principles are often summed up by two commands: "Eat" and "Grow strong." Vemmon's visor-covered green eyes swivelled and fixated on Cool Boy, seemingly in agreement with Zenith's words.

"...I'm sure you're right. When it comes to growing stronger, Vemmon knows no bounds."

　Even if Digimon were alive, even if there really is such a thing as another world, it's none of my business. I view Liberator and Digimon from the perspective of a game player, nothing more.

　That was the stance Zenith made clear when he was assigned to the debugging team and was told the truth about Lacuna. Although Cool Boy was not entirely satisfied with his reasoning, he decided to accept him, as he believed that the benefits of bringing in a man with such great ability and fame would be more important.

"You surprise me, Zenith. I thought your stance was that Digimon Liberator is just a game."

"Of course. Other games have characters too. Recognizing the individuality of each character while at the same time treating the game as a game is something that every player does."

"...Seems reasonable enough."

　It was a very typical choice for him to choose the powerful yet emotionless Vemmon as his partner. In all the time Cool Boy observed Zenith, he never saw him interacting with his partner Digimon or walking with it outside of the D-Storage.

　Vemmon also seems to find this acceptable and continues to follow Zenith's lead, perhaps out of respect for his strength. A relationship between tool and user without communication or trust. However, since both sides were actively in favor of it, there was no way for outsiders to interfere.

"Anyway, that's how it is, so just one match!"

　Zenith bowed his head once more, and Cool Boy sighed in exasperation.

"...I was hoping you'd finally give in."

　They switched locations to a stadium in a corner of Jewel. Standing in a hall slated to host large-scale tournaments and events, Zenith muttered with a sulky look on his face.

　In the end, Cool Boy just kept refusing his requests. He abruptly ended the meeting, citing another appointment. A little while later, Zenith received an email through the D-Storage asking him to come to the hall, so he thought maybe Cool Boy had reconsidered. But no—making exceptions to rules wouldn't be becoming of Liberator's operations manager.

"Sorry, but Cool Boy is busy. I hope you understand."

　Omekamon's voice echoes through the hall. A Puppet Digimon partnered with Cool Boy, it often acts as his surrogate and messenger. Although everyone was familiar with Omekamon's voice since it moderated the debugging team's regular meetings, whenever it appeared, it was always as a holographic image, and it was widely known that no one had ever actually met it before.

"...It's okay, Omekamon. I don't agree with it, but blaming you won't accomplish anything."

　Zenith gave a disinterested reply. In truth, after all that had happened, his interest in Cool Boy had waned like the tide.

　...I thought that since he's overworked right now, he might take the bait.

　After all, Cool Boy wasn't the type to compete for the sake of competing. Even if Zenith had forced him to play, it might not have been a satisfactory match.

"There has to be a reason for calling me here, right?"

　Zenith expects answers from Omekamon. Although he had lost interest in Cool Boy, he was confident that he would not do anything to cause any hard feelings.

　Although he lives by different values, he is a man who does not do anything without meaning. As long as he sees the value in working together, he will make up for the earlier rejection in some way. And if it's something that'll help with my prep for the championship, that'd be ideal.

"Yes. I'll play a game with you."

　Hearing this, Zenith tilted his head to the side.

"You?"

"Well, technically, it's an NPC that I control."

　As soon as the voice rings out, the floor of the stadium rises and an NPC appears in front of Zenith.

"I will now play using Cool Boy's deck, also simulating his thought process."

"...So, this is supposed to be a good substitute for the real deal?"

"Not at all."

　Omekamon denies it immediately. Its voice had been rather formal, but now there was a hint of Omekamon's own passion mixed in.

"This is nothing more than a simulation. I would request that you don't consider beating me as equivalent to actually beating Cool Boy."

"Yeah, I know... But from the way you're talking, it sounds like the man himself wouldn't mind."

"Right. If you win this match and go around claiming that you "defeated Cool Boy," he probably won't care. That's the kind of person he is."

"You're right. That is the kind of guy he is."

　Zenith chuckles dryly. That's why Cool Boy can never be my rival. He can't be the one to provide the thrill I seek.

　...It has to be ’that’ guy.

　Zenith muttered to himself, his conviction deepening.

　The first thing Zenith did when he started playing the Digimon Card Game was to go back and watch all the recordings of the World Championship. Of course, the games were interesting, but what he paid most attention to was the faces of the competitors.

　This is an occasion where many strong players compete with each other. Under such high pressure and in such a highly intellectual battle where not even a moment of carelessness is tolerated, the players' true nature as human beings is revealed on their faces.

　They want to reach heights that no one has reached before. They want to live up to the expectations of those who fought alongside them. They hope all the time and effort they put in will bear fruit. They want to take their Digimon, their deck, to the greatest of stages.

　Each of them has feelings all their own, and because of those feelings, they have strengths unlike anyone else. They were the same kind of opponents he had fought in so many other games.

　But Zenith was truly drawn to only one of these players. The man had a look on his face the likes of which Zenith had never seen on anyone else he'd played. Yet at the same time, he felt like that face was one he'd been observing for a long time.

　Even while performing on the world's greatest stage, this man always seemed to be searching for something new. The power that dwelt in those blade-like eyes never waned. No battle seemed to truly satisfy him.

　Zenith watched the man's matches intently. He was fascinated by his tactics—aggressive yet poised, like a ravenous dragon.

　He made it to the finals and won.

　The next year, and the year after that, he was simply unbeatable. With a hunger in his sharp eyes, he never showed any semblance of accomplishment or satisfaction after any of his victories.

　One morning, Zenith realized something. He realized that the face he saw in the mirror was filled with the same hunger as the man on the screen.

　Zenith was so sure of it. The man, Owen Dreadnought, was cut from the same cloth as he was.

"I guess Cool Boy wanted to appease me, but he overlooked that playing a proxy is not the kind of thing a true competitor enjoys."

　Zenith narrowed his eyes and muttered to himself as he watched the NPC controlled by Omekamon deploy security.

"But I'll let it slide. This looks like it could prove challenging. Maybe this will bring me closer to defeating that guy."

　Defeating Owen. That was what was dominating Zenith's mind right now. If it will bring him one step closer to victory, he will compete under any conditions, no matter how humiliating.

"Vemmon, this is the appetizer before we become champions. Gobble it up."

　Vemmon in the D-Storage responded with a sharp cry.