Chapter 167: Kevin's Betrayal
At this exact moment, Kevin had absolutely no idea he was about to lose face in the worst way possible.
Tires crunched over dry, cracked earth as Kevin drove the Rustbucket deep into the desolate wilderness. The sun beat down on the barren landscape, baking the dust that swirled around the heavy tires. He threw the vehicle into park and stepped out to meet someone.
It was his other former partner in crime—Argit.
Argit looked nothing like an Earthling. He resembled a giant, bipedal rat with a twitching snout, beady eyes, and a thick coat of sharp, hedgehog-like quills covering the back of his head and shoulders.
Argit popped the hood of the Rustbucket, leaning over the engine block and sniffing the air. "Uh-huh. Good, good. Alright." He pulled his head back and wiped grease from his claws. "This is a literal pile of scrap metal."
He shot Kevin a deadpan look. You went through all that trouble just to get your hands on this junk?
Kevin scoffed, gesturing for the rat-alien to follow him. He led Argit around to the back and stepped inside the spacious interior of the RV. Pulling out his Plumber badge, Kevin pressed it against a hidden scanner panel.
The walls shifted. Panels slid back with a heavy mechanical hum, revealing racks of high-tech Plumber gear, energy rifles, and advanced tactical weapons gleaming under the overhead lights.
"I said the car was scrap metal," Argit corrected himself instantly, his beady eyes widening into massive, greedy saucers. "But these modified parts... oh yeah, these are plenty valuable."
Kevin crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Will that guy want it?"
"Of course he will," Argit said, a sleazy grin stretching across his snout. "But it's a real shame you won't get the chance to find out!"
Before Kevin could even blink, Argit spun around. The sharp quills on the back of his head shot forward like a volley of darts, burying themselves deep into Kevin's chest and shoulders.
A potent neurotoxin flooded Kevin's system. His muscles locked up instantly. He crashed back-first onto the floorboards, his jaw clenched tight. "Ugh... I can't move!"
"Sorry, Kevin," Argit said, stepping over his paralyzed former buddy. "The money from fencing these broken car parts and weapons will be just enough for me to pay off my debts."
Argit grabbed Kevin by the collar and casually dragged him to the door, tossing him out into the dirt like a sack of potatoes. Kevin hit the ground with a heavy thud, kicking up a cloud of dry dust.
"Now I just have the Rustbucket to sell for pure profit!" Argit cackled from the driver's seat. He leaned out the window, looking down at Kevin's rigid form. "You really shouldn't trust me so much, brother. When the toxin wears off and you can move again, go see him. That arms dealer, Mochana. He said he knows you. And he said he wants your life."
Argit slammed his foot on the gas. The Rustbucket roared to life, tires spinning in the dirt before peeling away with a triumphant flourish.
Lying in the dust, Kevin gritted his teeth. He forced his paralyzed fingers to twitch, pressing his palm flat against the rocky earth beneath him. Energy surged through his veins. His skin hardened, shifting from flesh to solid, dense grey stone. The transformation flushed the neurotoxin from his system.
Kevin pushed himself up from the dirt, his stone joints grinding. He stomped over to a massive boulder resting by the roadside, dug his fingers underneath it, and hoisted the multi-ton rock over his head with a primal grunt. He hurled it directly at the fleeing RV.
Argit yanked the steering wheel hard. The Rustbucket swerved violently, dodging the boulder by inches as it smashed into the road, sending debris flying.
Kevin cursed under his breath. He thought he had lost him.
But then, the air rippled.
A quiet, brilliant blue light washed over the desert, striking the rear bumper of the Rustbucket. The sound of the engine warped into a bizarre, high-pitched whine. The tires stopped spinning forward.
Instead, the Rustbucket began to reverse. It moved backward at an impossible speed, tracing its exact path through the dirt, all the way back until it slammed to a perfect halt right next to Kevin.
Inside the cab, Argit gripped the steering wheel, his jaw hanging open. "...That arms dealer is Mochana... Holy crap! Kevin, how did you get up?!"
Argit stared at the bizarre scene in an utter daze. He felt completely disoriented, as if time in the outside world had just skipped a beat and rewound like a cheap cassette tape.
He scrambled to shift gears and drive away again. But before his claws could even touch the stick shift, the temperature inside the cab plummeted to absolute zero. Frost crept across the windshield.
Big Chill phased straight through the back seat, his moth-like wings folding into a dark cloak. The Necrofriggian grabbed Argit by the scruff of his neck, hoisted him into the air, and phased right through the driver's side door, tossing the rat-alien onto the dirt road.
Kevin cracked his stone knuckles and began walking silently toward Argit, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground.
"Uh-huh, good brother, let's just calm down first," Argit stammered, scrambling backward on his hands and knees. Looking at the towering stone giant approaching him, pure panic set in.
"Shut up."
The calm, authoritative voice echoed from a distance.
Argit and Kevin both snapped their heads toward the sound. Standing atop a jagged rock formation not far away was Clockwork. The Chronosapien's gears whirred softly as a quiet blue light flashed across his metallic body. In a burst of green energy, Clockwork transformed back into Klein.
"It's you?!"
Argit's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. The tiny sliver of hope he had about escaping completely vanished into thin air.
If it were just Kevin, it wouldn't be the end of the world. If he couldn't escape, he'd just take a beating. But with Klein standing there, the rules changed entirely. Not escaping didn't mean a beating. It meant truly dying.
As far as Argit knew, the number of people who had successfully escaped from Klein's grasp was exactly zero. Of course, that statistic only applied to the people Klein actually wanted to catch. And Argit didn't need to ask how anyone knew Klein wanted to catch them—because every single one of those people ended up dead.
Klein jumped down from the rock formation, his boots hitting the dirt with a soft thud. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked casually toward the two of them. Despite his relaxed posture, an immense, suffocating pressure settled over the area.
"So," Klein said, his voice flat. "You're the rat who wanted to steal my grandpa's car?"
"This car is your grandpa's?!" Argit shrieked, his voice cracking. He whipped his head around to stare at Kevin with genuine awe. Brother, you are truly brave! You actually dared to snatch something from the King of Hell!
Desperate to save his own miserable life, Argit pointed a trembling claw at his former friend. "It's not me! It's Kevin! It's him! He brought me here!"
Kevin's stone face dropped. Visible panic washed over his features. He raised his hands, opening his mouth to frantically explain himself.
"He's my brother," Klein interrupted, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument.
That single, simple sentence hit Kevin like a freight train. His stone exterior melted away, returning him to flesh and blood, and his eyes actually welled up with tears.
Argit stared at them, completely speechless. Are you guys really playing it this wild? But beneath his shock, Argit realized something crucial—this was good news. His life would probably be spared. After all, he could just beg Kevin for mercy later.
"But you still owe me an explanation," Klein said, shifting his gaze to Kevin. "What exactly are you looking for Mochana for?"
Kevin rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his boots. "Sorry, Boss. I originally wanted to get another holoprojector disc from Mochana—the one shaped like the Omnitrix dial—and bring it back to you. I heard there was a message left by Grandpa Max stored inside it. Oh, and of course, according to my original plan, the Rustbucket wouldn't have gotten a single scratch on it!"
Kevin shifted his weight nervously. He felt terrible, convinced he had completely betrayed Klein's trust by sneaking off.
"Then why didn't you just tell me?" Klein asked.
"I wanted to give you a surprise."
Klein stared at him. The desert wind howled softly as a long silence stretched between them.
After a long while, Klein let out a quiet sigh. He casually stepped forward and delivered a swift, brutal kick to Argit's ribs. The rat-alien squeaked in pain.
"Mochana, right?" Klein looked down at the coughing alien. "Take me to him. He still owes me a favor."
Argit wheezed, clutching his side. "He owes you a favor?"
"He owes me a life," Klein corrected dryly. "Guess why he's not dead? Because I didn't feel like going for the kill that day."
Miles away, deep inside a grimy, dimly lit industrial factory, Mochana suddenly shivered.
The bulky alien arms dealer rubbed his thick arms, a sudden wave of intense unease washing over him. The last time he had felt this specific brand of bone-deep dread was when he was being relentlessly hunted down by Klein in his Crashhopper form.
Could it be him again?
The terrifying thought popped into Mochana's mind, making his stomach churn.
He shook his head violently, pacing across the metal floor. "No, no, no... Impossible! I haven't seen that monster in ages! And the rumors say he's off causing absolute chaos in other galaxies right now. There is no way he's on Earth!"
Mochana kept muttering to himself, desperately trying to self-soothe. But it was completely useless. The more he thought about it, the more his anxiety spiked, until he was practically sweating buckets.
Just then—
BOOM!
The massive steel gates of the factory were violently blown off their hinges by a blinding blast of magenta mana. The heavy metal doors crumpled like tin foil, and several of Mochana's armed subordinates were launched through the air, crashing hard onto the factory floor.
"Who?! Who is so bold?!" Mochana roared, drawing his weapon.
"Mochana."
That voice.
Even though the tone was calm, there was no mistaking it. It was that man.
Mochana dropped his weapon. His knees hit the steel floor with a loud clang. He threw his upper body forward, pressing his face against the cold metal.
"Big Brother, please let me go!" Mochana wailed, his voice echoing through the cavernous factory. "I have elderly parents and young children to feed! I'm just running a small, honest business now! I've truly turned over a new leaf, I swear! I really don't dare to do bad things anymore!"
Footsteps echoed through the smoke. Klein walked through the ruined doorway, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. Flanking him were Gwen, Kevin, Argit, and the towering, muscular form of Humungousaur.
Klein stopped in front of the groveling arms dealer, tilting his head in genuine confusion. "Why are you kneeling?"
"I feel this way I can properly express my utmost respect for you, Big Brother," Mochana choked out, desperately forcing the most gentle, harmless smile he could muster onto his ugly face.
Klein couldn't be bothered to deal with the theatrics. If the guy wanted to kiss the floor, he could kiss the floor. "Enough with the nonsense. Give me the thing."
"Big Brother, what do you want? Anything I have, just take it! Take it all!" Mochana cried. He felt his heart bleeding at the thought of losing his inventory, but credits could be earned again. He only had one life.
"We're talking about the holoprojector disc in your hand."
A brilliant green light flashed, illuminating the dark factory. Humungousaur shrank down, transforming back into Ben. The teenager stepped forward, crossing his arms as he glared at the arms dealer.
"Oh! That thing!" Mochana scrambled to reach behind his back. He quickly pulled out the flat, disc-shaped projector bearing the Omnitrix symbol and held it up to Klein with trembling hands. "Big Brother, if you wanted it, you could have just sent someone to tell me! Why come all this way yourself? I could have personally... sent someone to deliver it to your doorstep, couldn't I?"
"Get lost," Klein said, taking the disc.
"Alright!"
Without a second of hesitation, Mochana tucked his knees to his chest, curled into a literal ball, and began rolling aggressively across the factory floor, desperate to put as much distance between himself and Klein as physically possible.
"Is this it?" Klein examined the smooth, metallic disc in his hand. He turned to look at Kevin. "You went through all that trouble just for this."
Kevin lowered his head, staring at the floor grates. "Sorry, Boss."
"Next time, remember to just tell me if something comes up," Klein said, his tone softening slightly.
Kevin's head snapped up, a grin breaking across his face. "Yes, Boss! No problem, Boss!"
Klein pressed the center of the disc. A beam of blue light shot upward, projecting a flickering, life-sized hologram of Grandpa Max.
The old man looked tired but resolute. He looked directly into the projection lens.
"Xiao Ze," Max's voice echoed through the quiet factory. "I believe by the time you investigate this far, the person who gets this video will be you. There are many things Grandpa can't tell you explicitly right now. But actually, it doesn't matter whether I tell you or not. You've always been a very decisive child, and Grandpa trusts you all to handle things well."
The hologram flickered slightly, Max's expression hardening into something fierce and uncompromising.
"Grandpa will only tell you one thing: I won't restrain you this time. Go for it. Make them hurt. Also, if you need to, you can find the descendants of the other Plumbers. I believe you've already met them."
The blue light collapsed inward, and the video ended, plunging the factory back into dim shadows.
Klein stood completely still for a moment, staring at the empty space where Max had just been. Slowly, the corners of his mouth curled upward into a chilling, quiet smile.
'Grandpa,'Klein thought, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.'Do you have any idea? If I actually go all out... there won't be anything left of them to play with.'
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