Chapter 175: Mecha Right Hand
Dust choked the air inside the abandoned factory. A deafening crash echoed through the cavernous space as a massive, armor-plated sphere slammed into the far wall. Brick and mortar shattered, raining down in a thick cloud of debris. The sphere uncurled, revealing Cannonbolt—Klein's current transformation—landing heavily on his feet with a casual thud.
Pinned within the fresh crater was a Techadon Robot. A marvel of Level 12 alien engineering, the autonomous weapon system functioned like a highly advanced smart robot, boasting enough raw firepower to level a city block. It didn't stay down for long. Metallic gears whined as the machine planted a heavy hand against the crumbling brickwork, violently prying its chassis out of the wall.
The Techadon raised its right arm. Its five mechanical fingers splayed open, and a blinding crimson light gathered at the tips. A barrage of red lasers erupted, sweeping across the factory floor in a deadly, calculated arc.
Gwen's eyes flared a brilliant magenta. She thrust her right hand forward, drawing heavily on her Anodite mana. The ambient energy coalesced, stretching out into a massive, forty-meter-long purple scythe of pure magical force. With a sharp, sweeping motion, she brought the glowing blade down.
Metal shrieked. The scythe cleaved cleanly through the Techadon's shoulder joint, sending its entire right arm crashing to the concrete.
Before the machine could recalibrate, Kevin charged through the smoke. He coated his fists in solid steel and delivered a brutal uppercut to the robot's chest plate, sending the heavy machine staggering backward on its metallic heels.
A flash of emerald light illuminated the shadows. Ben slammed his hand down on the Omnitrix dial. His body dissolved into a puddle of viscous, translucent green slime, topped with a small, saucer-like anti-gravity projector hovering just above his head.
"Oh, cool!" Ben's voice bubbled from the gelatinous mass. "I'll call you... Goop!"
The anti-gravity projector whirred to life. Pulled by the small UFO, Goop shrank into a concentrated sphere of acidic slime and launched himself directly at the stumbling Techadon.
The robot's optical sensors flared. It clenched its remaining left hand into a massive fist and threw a devastating punch, driving its metal knuckles straight through Goop's chest.
The strike did absolutely nothing. The slime simply parted around the metal arm. Guided by the hovering projector, Goop's gelatinous form flowed rapidly up the robot's chassis. He bypassed the armored plating entirely, sliding into the sparking, exposed circuitry where the right arm had just been severed.
Once inside, the anti-gravity projector spun wildly. Goop began to expand, forcing his viscous mass into every gear, wire, and hydraulic line within the machine's chest cavity.
The Techadon's optical lights flickered frantically. Its metal chassis bulged outward, groaning under the immense internal pressure.
Boom!
The robot detonated from the inside out. Shrapnel and mechanical fragments rained down across the factory floor, accompanied by a massive shower of green slime.
For a moment, the slime lay scattered in a dozen different puddles. Then, the anti-gravity projector hovered over the mess, emitting a soft hum. The scattered droplets of green goo slid across the concrete, rapidly reassembling back into Goop's humanoid form.
"Ugh." Gwen wrinkled her nose, stepping back to avoid a stray puddle. "That is seriously disgusting."
Goop slumped his gelatinous shoulders. Once again, his alien form was routinely unappreciated.
"Whatever," Kevin muttered, dusting off his hands. "As long as it gets rid of that guy, it's fine by me."
Walking over to the severed Techadon arm, Kevin picked it up. He tossed the heavy, metallic limb straight into the trunk of his car, claiming it as a hard-won trophy.
He slammed the trunk shut, completely missing the faint, ominous whirring sound from inside. Beneath the shadows of the trunk, the mechanical fingers of the severed right hand twitched, slowly curling inward.
Outside the brightly lit Mr. Smoothy stand, the afternoon sun beat down on the pavement.
Kevin stood by his beloved black-and-green muscle car, furiously scrubbing the upholstery with a microfiber cloth. He muttered under his breath, utterly paranoid that some microscopic residue of Goop's acidic slime might have hitched a ride on his leather seats.
Meanwhile, Klein and Gwen had wandered into the adjacent convenience store to stock up on road trip snacks, leaving Ben to handle the drink orders.
The line at Mr. Smoothy wasn't too long, and Ben quickly secured a cardboard tray holding four massive, condensation-beaded cups.
"Alright, smoothies for everyone," Ben said to himself, a satisfied grin on his face as he carefully balanced the tray and headed back toward Kevin's car.
He didn't make it far.
From the opposite direction, Cash and J.T. swaggered down the sidewalk, laughing loudly at some inside joke. Cash spotted Ben first. A malicious glint flashed in his eyes. He slightly adjusted his path, feigning ignorance, and rammed his shoulder hard into Ben's chest.
The cardboard tray buckled. All four giant cups tipped over, dumping a freezing, sticky cascade of flavored ice directly down the front of Ben's signature jacket.
Ben stopped dead in his tracks. He looked down at the colorful mess dripping from his clothes. His jaw tightened. "I'm covered in smoothie."
Cash and J.T. erupted into obnoxious, howling laughter.
"Hey, J.T., look who just had a little accident," Cash sneered, pointing at the dripping mess.
"Yeah, looks pretty messy, Cash," J.T. chimed in, leaning against a nearby trash can. "You want me to buy you a bib, Tennyson? Or maybe a diaper?"
"Hahahaha!" The two bullies doubled over, clutching their stomachs.
"Some people just need a beating."
The voice came from right behind them. It was calm, flat, and carried the heavy, suffocating weight of a loaded gun.
Cash stopped laughing. That voice sounds familiar.
He didn't care. He was the toughest guy in the neighborhood. Nobody talked to him like that. He spun around, puffing out his chest. "Otherwise, what do you want to do—"
The words died in his throat.
Standing there, holding a plastic bag of chips, was Klein. His expression was completely unreadable, his eyes dark and entirely unimpressed.
Cash's knees hit the concrete so fast they made an audible crack.
J.T. blinked. "Cash, why are you... kneeling so fast?!"
He turned his head. The moment J.T. saw Klein's displeased face, a flood of repressed, traumatic childhood memories rushed to the forefront of his mind. He remembered the bruises. He remembered the absolute, one-sided beatings.
His body reacted before his brain could process a single thought. J.T. dropped to his knees right next to Cash.
Why is this monster here?! J.T. screamed internally.
They hadn't seen Klein in years. He had grown taller, his features sharper and more handsome, but that terrifying aura was unmistakable. Years ago, after a particularly brutal warning from Klein, the two bullies had actually behaved themselves for six straight months. It was only after they realized Klein had disappeared from their lives that they slowly reverted to their old habits.
Now, he was back. Was today their doomsday?
Klein looked down at the two trembling teenagers, genuinely confused. "Why are you kneeling?"
Cash swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. "Big Brother, I... I just really like kneeling."
What else was he supposed to say? That his legs had turned to jelly?
A few bystanders waiting in the Mr. Smoothy line pointed and started laughing at the bizarre sight of two local tough guys groveling on the sidewalk.
Cash's face burned. He was used to being the one doing the mocking. The humiliation stung deeply, but the primal fear keeping him pinned to the ground was much stronger. He didn't dare move a muscle.
Klein ignored the crowd. He tilted his head slightly. "You just asked me what I wanted to do?"
Cash flinched, waving his hands frantically. "No, Big Brother, you misheard me! I swear! What I meant was... whatever you want me to do, I'll do it!"
"Yes, yes, exactly! Cash is right!" J.T. babbled, desperately trying to flatter his way out of a hospital visit. "Whatever you want us to do, we'll do it!"
They were fully prepared to bark like dogs or dance in the street if it meant avoiding Klein's fists. Public humiliation was infinitely better than physical destruction.
Looking at their pathetic, cowardly display, a dry scoff escaped Klein's lips. "Heh. Then..."
"Cousin."
Ben's voice cut through the tension.
Klein paused and turned his head. Ben stood there, sticky and dripping, but his posture was straight. He met Klein's gaze and gave a slow, deliberate shake of his head.
Klein raised an eyebrow, silently communicating. Are you sure?
Ben nodded firmly. I'm sure.
Klein stared at him for a long second. Then, without another word to the bullies, he turned on his heel and walked away, heading toward the car.
Cash and J.T. exchanged utterly bewildered glances, still kneeling on the hot pavement.
"You two aren't worth it at all."
Ben's voice made them scramble to their feet. They turned to look at him, confused. "Huh?"
"It's just too ridiculous," Ben said, grabbing a napkin from a nearby dispenser and casually wiping a glob of strawberry smoothie off his jacket. "Can't you at least be a little creative? Since the second grade, you've only played these same old tricks, Cash."
He tossed the soiled napkin into the trash. "It's so old-fashioned. Spilling drinks on me? I used to actually be afraid of you guys. Look around, Cash. We've all grown up. But you? You're still that exact same useless person who only messes with others for his own cheap amusement."
Ben looked him dead in the eye, his voice dropping to a tone of pure pity. "It's truly pathetic."
"Woohoo!" someone in the crowd yelled. A smattering of applause and cheers broke out from the onlookers who had witnessed the entire exchange.
Cash and J.T.'s faces turned a deep, ugly shade of red. Dark lines of embarrassment shadowed their expressions as they turned and fled down the street in complete disarray.
Watching Ben walk back to the car, Klein leaned against the passenger door, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Well said, Ben."
Gwen walked up, tossing a bag of chips into the backseat. "You could have transformed and taught them a serious lesson, but you didn't."
"If it were me, I definitely would have," Kevin joked from the driver's side, finally putting away his cleaning cloth.
A few blocks away, Cash and J.T. walked aimlessly down a quiet street, the sting of humiliation still burning fresh.
Cash kicked a crushed soda can into the gutter, his fists clenched tight. "Damn it," he muttered venomously. "How dare he make me look bad."
He was, of course, complaining about Ben. He didn't have a death wish; he wouldn't dare complain about Klein.
J.T., ever the instigator, walked a half-step behind him, adding fuel to the fire. "He completely embarrassed you, Cash. You didn't see your own expression when he said you were—"
"No one makes me look bad! J.T.!" Cash whirled around, grabbing his friend by the collar and roaring in his face. "I will definitely not let him get away with this! I want revenge! I'm gonna make everyone laugh at him!"
J.T. swallowed hard, suddenly very aware that he was just the lackey. With Cash's furious face shoved inches from his own, cold sweat dripped down J.T.'s neck. His eyes darted around frantically, desperately searching for a way to change the subject before Cash decided to hit him instead.
His gaze landed on a familiar vehicle parked down the street. It was Kevin's black-and-green sports car.
J.T.'s eyes lit up as if he had just seen a savior. "Look! Cash, look over there! That's Kevin's car!" He pointed excitedly. "If it were me, I'd smash Kevin's car to pieces! Then everyone in town would know you're super tough! The toughest ever! They'd definitely admire you so much after that."
Cash's furious expression instantly warped into something incredibly strange. He stared at J.T. as if the boy had just suggested jumping into an active volcano.
"And then what?" Cash hissed, his voice cracking slightly. "Get dragged into the woods by Klein and beaten to death on the spot?! Kevin is his subordinate! If I smash Kevin's car, whose car is Klein going to ride in?! He'll literally kill me, you absolute idiot!"
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