It was a late night in Japan. The roads had gone quiet, no one was around for miles. Though someone was out, and that someone was Guilmon. He was scurrying through the back alleys of the city, finally reaching a closed bakery. Not a single soul was in it, making it easy pickings for the bread obsessed Digimon.
Using his claws he picked the lock to the back door, pushing it open and immediately getting bombarded with the smell of dough and bread. The scents coming from every corner of just the kitchen alone. Closing the door behind him, he had the whole shop to himself. His gut grumbled loudly as he kept smelling the bread, leaving him to ponder on where to start.
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