Chapter Thirty-Six: The Original's Request

"Where am I?"
Still groggy, Qin Fei was swept by a strange, inexplicable sense of exhaustion.

"Hey, everyone, wake up! Don’t sleep anymore—especially you, Qin Fei! Your advertising design has been rejected. The client wants you to redo it..."

A voice both familiar and yet long unheard suddenly rang out by his ear, jolting Qin Fei as if struck by lightning.

"Come on! Lunch break just started!"
"What? Rejected again?!"
"We spent two nights on that! I feel like I’m about to drop dead..."
"That boss is so demanding..."
"Well, the client’s always right. As long as they pay, let’s get to work! Get to work!"
"..."

The familiar clamor of colleagues made Qin Fei's heart skip, and he shot up from his chair in an instant.

"This... Where is this?!"

Staring at the familiar office before him, Qin Fei wore an expression of utter disbelief.

"Weren’t I just..."

But soon, astonishment faded into confusion, as if some crucial memory had slipped from his mind.

"What was I going to say? Isn’t it perfectly normal to be at work in the studio? Why am I so surprised?"

Scratching his head, Qin Fei pushed away the faint sense of discord, resignedly accepting the rejected design draft handed over by his colleague.

"Ugh, why do we have to change this again? That boss is even more fickle than a chameleon."

Grumbling in annoyance, Qin Fei nonetheless bent over his desk—after all, this was how he earned his living.

Fortunately, the client seemed a little more merciful this time; the changes were minor. With his colleagues’ cooperation, they quickly produced a new draft, leaving Qin Fei grateful that he could finish work on time.

"Phew, why am I so tired today? It doesn’t feel like I did that much."

Throwing his exhausted body onto the bed in his rented room, Qin Fei closed his eyes, hoping to rest for a while.

But no matter how he tossed and turned, sleep eluded him. It was as if some vital, weighty matter pressed on his heart, refusing to let him find peace.

"Ugh!"

"Damn it, am I seeing ghosts?"

Flipping off his blanket in frustration, Qin Fei sat up with a reluctant sigh.

"Never mind. I can’t figure it out, and I can’t sleep anyway. Might as well eat something."

After a long silence, still unable to recall what was bothering him, Qin Fei decided to set aside his unease for now. He pulled a box of emergency rations—instant noodles—from beneath his bed.

Boil water, tear open the packaging, soak the noodles, press them down with chopsticks—the actions flowed seamlessly from one to the next.

Soon, an enticing aroma filled the air.

"Huh? Why do these noodles look so appealing today?"

The instant noodles, which had long since made him nauseous, now curiously teased his taste buds.

Inhaling the savory scent, Qin Fei wore a look of bliss. "It’s been ages since I last tasted these. I almost missed them!"

He swallowed, but in the next moment, he froze.

"It's been ages since I had these? Why would I say that? Haven’t I been eating them every day waiting for my paycheck? I’m sick of them!"

Still, he had no clue.

Eyeing the ready noodles, Qin Fei dismissed his doubts and lost himself in the comforting warmth of instant noodles.

"Burp..."

Staring at the three empty bowls on the table, Qin Fei burped and looked puzzled.

Even before he’d grown sick of instant noodles, one bowl wouldn’t fill him, two would leave him stuffed. Why was he suddenly able to down three bowls today?

"Maybe work stress is getting to me."

Rubbing his chin, Qin Fei thought, "Forget it. I don’t even feel like playing games tonight—too exhausting. I’ll just watch some lighthearted anime to relax..."

Sitting on his soft bed, he placed his laptop on his knees and poured himself a cold drink—this was the life of a carefree immortal.

With a sigh of contentment, Qin Fei eagerly powered on his computer.

"Let’s see, is there anything lighthearted..."

He scrolled through the homepage, browsing title after title.

"Digimon?"

His finger paused involuntarily. Staring at the familiar image, Qin Fei drifted into a daze.

"I loved this as a kid, but I’ve already seen it. Better skip it."

With that, he continued scrolling down.

Click.

But for some reason, his hand moved on its own, guiding the mouse back to play the first season of Digimon.

"Whatever, I’ll just relive some childhood memories."

With a nonchalant smile, Qin Fei leaned back, finding a comfortable position.

The familiar melody played.

The scene of the eight chosen children being swept into the Digital World resurfaced...

"......"

"Wait!"

A cold sweat broke out on Qin Fei’s forehead.

Weren’t there only seven chosen children at the start?

"......"

"Is this your world? It’s not much different from ours..."

As Qin Fei’s thoughts drifted into confusion, a familiar child’s voice suddenly sounded, as if right beside him.

Closing his laptop, Qin Fei looked at the familiar face sitting on his bed and managed a wry smile.

"So, it was all just an illusion..."

Qin Fei remembered everything.

In the next instant, the familiar room was torn apart like fabric, revealing an endless expanse of white beneath his feet.

"What do you want?"

Realizing the truth, Qin Fei was no longer afraid.

"What, after borrowing my body for so long, am I not allowed to give you a scare?"

Looking at the face that was identical to his own at age ten, Qin Fei felt the situation was absurd.

His name was Qin Fei. The child before him was also Qin Fei. Yet one belonged to the real world, the other to the world of Digimon.

"So, you’re planning to take your body back?"

Qin Fei pressed.

"No, no. I tried, but I failed. This body is yours now. No one can take it from you."

The younger "himself" shook his head, still seeming a bit unwilling.

"So?"

Qin Fei doubted he was here just for a chat.

"So, I want you to take care of this. If you agree, I’ll gladly give you this body, and you’ll never have to worry about my presence again."

As he spoke, the ten-year-old "self" raised his hands.

Qin Fei’s pupils narrowed, for in the boy’s hands was a beautifully patterned Digi-Egg.

"I don’t want it to be forgotten before it’s even born."

Qin Fei fell silent.

"Are you a chosen child too?"

Sudden realization dawned on Qin Fei, though he wasn’t surprised.

After all, in the second season of Digimon, there were chosen children all around the world, not just the main characters.

In the end, the final villain, MaloMyotismon, was defeated by the united efforts of all the chosen children worldwide.

"I already have a Digimon."

Qin Fei reminded the boy.

"That’s why I’m giving this to you."

But the boy didn’t mind. He even produced something familiar from his pocket.

"The original Digivice from the Holy Program."

Gazing at the first-generation Digivice, Qin Fei’s expression finally changed.

"Think of it as my request—please raise this little one for me."

Looking at the Digi-Egg in his palms, the boy’s face showed a trace of reluctance.

"...I promise you."

"Perhaps I’m not a great tamer."

Qin Fei lowered his eyes and accepted the Digi-Egg from his younger self.

"But I will raise it well."

"...Thank you."

With those words, the boy smiled and dissolved into fragments, vanishing without a trace.

All that remained was a Digi-Egg radiating with boundless vitality, and atop it, the first-generation Digivice—the Holy Program—resting quietly in Qin Fei’s hands.