Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ DigiNOIR ❯ Chapter 1

DigiNOIR - The Seedy Underbelly of Digital City

 

The pavement is cold and wet against my face and I notice I've got a hole in my gut the size of a baseball. A rather nice turn of events, considerin' what I've been through. I see a shadow move closer - I know its him again. I hear the guy speak as he chambers another round.

"Not your lucky day, old man."

What a prick.

 

***

 

Lets go back a little, shall we?

 

It had been a nice mornin', a little brisk. The sun's rays streamed down like blood from a fresh stab wound, and reflected over the pools of water that had collected on the streets during last night's thunderstorm. It surprised me how much this place reminded me of home.

I had relocated here recently; crime was on the rise, and I'm always on the lookout for the next punk who thinks he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

Allow me to explain. A few years back, when the digital rift was discovered, the UN strictly regulated travel between the real and digital planes. But pressure from many of the world's nations forced them to reevaluate this decision. Now that they've streamlined the process, any joeblow criminal can just waltz right through and start trouble.

That's where people like me come in; with no real police force, Digital City is takin' serious hits from organized crime that has moved in from the real world. The local government has taken to hirin' P.I.s and free agents to assist the population in trackin' down missin' persons, possessions, and criminals. Some of us came for money, others for glory; and a few, like my old ugly self, came for a challenge. I had been growin' tired of my occupation; after 20 years on the force, what was once an excitin' career had grown into mindless and repetitive work. I had pondered seekin' alternate employment; but in my gut I knew I would always be a policeman. Seein' this digital frontier set my sights on new horizons, new things. I turned in my badge and applied for a job as a certified investigator of Digital City. They accepted me quickly; my long list of credentials was proof enough that I could handle the job.

 

But back to this morning. I was off to the office, where I would await any clients who needed my assistance. The city is kind enough to procure a small space for every agent they add to their force; it's nothin' too big, but big was never my style. I prefer to keep things cozy.

 

My buildin' is located in downtown Digital City, where you can get L chips for 50 bits on any street corner. Such a site of festerin' corruption is the perfect place for my humble office. I have no shortage of customers; in fact, I often have to turn people away. My schedule is packed with dirt-diggin' and crime-fightin', and I spend most nights on the lookout for criminal activity.

Last night was no different; I had been on a stakeout by an abandoned warehouse, which a client of mine had suspected was used for illegal card traffickin'. His hunch had proven correct; at around 2 AM I busted the punks who had decided to make the place their own personal tradin' post. I was exhausted, but as they say, crime never sleeps. My duty was to the people of Digital City, and I don't back out on my duty, know matter how I feel. Because of this I stumbled on the stairs and through the front door of my buildin', but I managed to make it to the elevator unscathed. On the way up I pondered the buttons on the panel; they were quite shiny. My head was poundin'; I tried to recall if I had done any celebratory drinkin' last night.

 

When the doors opened, I was greeted by my lovely receptionist, Sharlene. She's a nice dame, as far as dames go. Doesn't say much, works for minimum wage, and isn't that bad to look at. I'm surprised I haven't asked her to marry me yet.

 

I passed her desk and entered my office, where Roberto sat silently, starin' into space. Like Sharlene, the big guy doesn't say much. But this is where the similarities between the two end; in fact, Roberto isn't even human. He's somethin' called a Guilmon, some kind of red dinosaur thing, that's been assigned to me by the city. Apparently they give one of these digimon guys to each agent they hire. A free bodyguard seems like a pretty good deal to me, and he's proven pretty nice to have around. I haven't been in many fights since my move here, but I know Roberto can handle himself well. Last night he busted up those card dealers pretty quick; they didn't even have a chance to react.

 

I sat down in my chair and whirled around a few times to set my head straight. I've been workin' on a big job over the past couple of weeks; a guy I know believes we can nail the leader of a local crime syndicate with identity fraud. This is a more common crime than you would think; many people submit randomized, false information to the UN immigration agencies, and are still cleared for travel into the digital world.

I had planned to spend the day diggin' through old immigration records, and was about to switch on my computer when Sharlene's singsong voice came in over my desk loudspeaker.

"Someone to see you, Mr. Flannigan," she said.

I mulled over my options. I was tired, I had a headache. It seemed like a good idea to let this case go. But I didn't really have much else to do today. Laziness is not my style.

I asked Sharlene to send the guy in.

 

It turns out that it wasn't a guy at all; the door opened and a little girl walked into my office. She looked to be about nine or ten, and had a little pink backpack with flowers emblazoned all over it. I began to wonder why I even bothered.

I never was the most tactful of individuals, and I valued my time heavily.

"What is it? Did your little doggy run away?" I said harshly. My head hurt, and I was possibly hungover. I didn't need some kid comin' in here and rattlin' off her everyday woes.

Instantly I felt like a complete jackass when the little girl burst into tears.

I tried my best to calm her, but when it comes to bein' nice I'm about as proficient as a dead cat.

"Please sir?my brother, he hasn't been home for a week." She managed to choke out.

I scratched my head. Missin' persons. Couldn't be too hard. I asked her for details. She said that her brother had had a night job for a few months, and last week hadn't come home from work. I asked her if she knew where his place of work was. She said no. She told me her brother's name, gave me a picture, and begged me to find him. How could I refuse a little kid?

Tearfully she left my room, and I sat back down at my desk. I scrutinized the picture. He was a nice-lookin' kid, probably in his early twenties. Workin' at night to support his little sister. Seemed pretty noble, in my opinion. I decided to run a few searches to see what I could dig up about the guy.

After lookin' around in some old records for a few hours, I found what I was searchin' for. Info concerning his schoolin', former occupations, and criminal record; anythin' to give me a clue as to what this guy could be doin' after-hours. It turns out he had dropped out of high school at the age of 16, and had a few run-ins with the law. Nothin' too big, petty thefts and what not, but enough to make me wonder what his deal was. I noticed on his rap sheet that a lot of his thefts concerned digital paraphernalia - chips, cards, things like that. I pondered over this turn of events. This guy was a small fry criminal, and had been for a long time. In fact his latest offense was recorded just a few months earlier, and I'm sure he had more crimes that were not even listed. This "night job" was most likely another name for his illegal activities. This case was startin' to get a little more interestin', but I needed more info. I decided to pay a visit to a couple of friends on the street.