File City certainly seemed much more... lively than he last remembered. Granted, he hadn't been to File City for several months, not since he first started out on his journey with the Kotemon that dragged him all around the island in search of training. But, it was about time that the pair returned to civilization. As a result of his strenuous training with his Digimon partner, something of Michael's had finally given out. His only shirt that he had worn for several months had already been forming holes, but being slashed across the back by a BladeKuwagamon (incidentally leaving a long scar across his back) didn't help. Michael had attempted to sew it up himself, but even that temporary fix had resulted in his favorite shirt being torn to shreds. He felt ridiculous and exposed as he walked into town without wearing a shirt, but recent changes to his body seemed to change his opinion as of late. He had always been something of a scrawny nerd, but his time in the Digital World and performing all sorts of physical feats had developed his body into something respectably muscular. He certainly had a long way to go before he became the buff man in his daydreams, but the formerly skin-and-bones young man now had signs of lean muscle to them. While being shirtless was still certainly embarrassing for him, Michael didn't mind the body he was developing after coming to this world. Granted, it seemed the current set of circumstances didn't care whether the human was shirtless or not. In fact, it looked like practical chaos in the street. Digimon were arguing, struggling, fighting, looting, and crying all over the streets. Michael had never been one for crowds, and he could feel his anxiety kick in immediately at all the noise, yet the threat of danger didn't seem to bother him as much. He looked down towards his partner, Kenta. The Kotemon simply stared off at the scene before them, his glowing yellow eyes giving no indication of his thoughts on the state of affairs. "Things seem dangerous, Michael Walker," He stated, his way of giving the human a warning, keeping his gaze on the scene in front of them. "Is this quest of yours worth risking your life for?" Michael paused for a long moment. He certainly wasn't a hero, and while he definitely considered that the duo was powerful, he doubted he could quell a city-wide riot in a world full of Digimon. Yet it wasn't like he could just ignore this, either. He gripped his crest tag and Digivice in thought. Kenta turned and nodded his approval, as if knowing Michael's decision before he even made it. Michael and Kenta, by most accounts, strong. But unlike Kenta, who only ever seemed to want to become stronger for the sake of being better, Michael had been pondering what to do with the strength the pair had obtained. He had never been a proactive person in his life, so he wasn't sure what to do. He looked at his cards he had gathered. All of them were defensive in nature. Was there a meaning in that? Did he obtain strength to defend himself, or to defend Kenta, or to defend... anyone? Ultimately there was only one way to find out. "Kenta," Michael finally spoke out. "We should just carry about our business," He pointed further down the street, where a belligerent-looking Musyamon had its sword drawn at a Goblimon cowering in fear. "Perhaps we should ask that Digimon for directions, though." Without another word, Kenta dashed forward, his data shifting into a taller, human-lizard hybrid with a large blade of his own. The Musyamon swing its sword down, and Kenta, now a Dinohumon, slid in at the last second with his own blade and parried the strike while the Goblimon took off running into an alley. "Excuse me, sir Musyamon of Attempted Child-Slaying, but would you perhaps know where the nearest tailor is located, would you?"