Chapter 70: Ben Can't Sleep
"What in the world is... going on?"
Grandpa Max stared at the massive, jagged crater dominating the mall entrance. Chunks of asphalt and twisted rebar littered the walkway. Since they had entered the building through a side door earlier, the destruction had completely escaped their notice until now.
Down inside the pit, a security guard waved his flashlight. "Hey! There is something down here!" He scrambled up the incline, holding up a jagged, pale-green crystalline shard to his colleagues at the edge.
Grandpa Max and Gwen slowly turned their heads. Their eyes locked onto Ben.
Ben took a step back, raising his hands defensively. "Why are you all looking at me? I am not the only alien in the universe! It must be some other weirdo. Could it be because I was sleepwalking? I have never sleepwalked before! Cousin, you definitely believe me, right!"
He shot a desperate, expectant gaze toward Klein.
Klein looked back at him, his expression entirely flat. 'I am touched that you suspect yourself of sleepwalking before you suspect me,'Klein thought,'but...'
"It really was you," Klein said aloud, his voice devoid of pity.
Ben clutched his chest, his face twisting in absolute betrayal. The last time his cousin had hurt him this deeply was when he abandoned him to deal with Tini's aggressive affections.
Seeing Ben's imagination running wild with increasingly absurd theories, Klein decided to step in and recount the events of the previous night. It could not be hidden anyway. As long as he embellished the details slightly, Ben would have no reason to blame him for the severe beating he had received.
Without missing a beat, Klein swapped out 'getting up to rob the place'with'being woken up by my younger cousin's restless movements.'He then smoothly replaced'beating Ben to a pulp'with'Ben tripped and fell on his own, I just lightly nudged him twice to check on him.'
Klein delivered the lie with absolute conviction. Whether the universe believed it or not, he believed it. And judging by the thoughtful nods, Ben and the others bought the story completely.
"Dweeb, people who sleepwalk have no idea what they are doing," Gwen said, her eyes dropping to the device clamped on Ben's left wrist. "Let alone someone who sleepwalks while wearing the Omnitrix. We have to take this seriously."
"Gwen is right," Grandpa Max instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We must find a way to solve your sleepwalking problem. Until we find a solution, you have to make sure you do not fall asleep. Do not worry, we will all help you."
Ben stared at them, his eyes wide with horror. Help me with what? Help me not sleep?
Back inside the Rustbucket, the air felt heavy.
Klein leaned against the counter and voiced his primary theory to Grandpa Max and Gwen. "Ben's sleepwalking might be influenced by Sublimino."
Grandpa Max rubbed his chin, his brow furrowing. "Hmm... It is highly possible. But what exactly is Sublimino's purpose in doing this? No matter what, we have to track him down and demand some answers."
He immediately moved toward the driver's seat, determined to confront the hypnotist.
"But, Grandpa," Gwen interjected, crossing her arms. "Sublimino's performance ended yesterday. He might have already packed up and left by now."
She had a valid point. Traveling performers rarely lingered in one spot after their shows concluded. They usually packed up their gear and headed straight to the next city.
Grandpa Max paused, considering her words. "...How about this. I will go find the mall manager first to see if I can get any useful information or a forwarding address. During this time, you two must ensure Ben does not fall asleep."
He gave Klein and Gwen a stern look before opening the door and stepping out of the Rustbucket.
Klein and Gwen nodded, accepting their grandfather's orders.
In truth, Klein had a few methods to solve Ben's sleepwalking problem instantly. But as he looked at his cousin's drooping eyelids, he decided that keeping Ben forcibly awake would be far more entertaining.
Barely a minute after Grandpa Max left, the exhaustion of a restless night and a battered body caught up to Ben. His head bobbed. His eyes slid shut.
Smack.
Klein's hand connected with Ben's cheek. "Are you awake yet!"
Ben jolted upright, clutching his face. "Ah!... Cousin, can we try a different method? Can you not hit me?"
He looked utterly baffled as to why physical violence was the first option.
"This is the fastest and most effective method," Klein reasoned, though he shrugged a moment later. "Alright, I will try a different method."
Klein turned and walked to the back of the Rustbucket. A few moments of rummaging later, he returned holding a bundle of thick, sturdy rope.
With practiced efficiency, Klein tied one end of the rope into a slipknot, creating a wide loop. He slipped it over Ben's head, letting it rest loosely around his neck, and then anchored the other end to a heavy, immovable cabinet bracket on the ceiling.
Klein stepped back, admiring his masterpiece with a satisfied smirk. The tension was measured perfectly. The moment Ben grew drowsy and his head slumped forward, the rope would pull taut, constricting his airway just enough to jolt him awake.
"...Cousin, this is not very good," Gwen muttered. Even she, who usually relished any opportunity to prank her cousin, felt a twinge of genuine concern looking at the makeshift gallows.
"Relax!" Klein waved a hand dismissively. "It will just be a slight feeling of suffocation. The important thing is that this setup perfectly solves the problem. With this, Ben definitely will not be able to sleep."
His triumphant smirk only deepened.
Less than two minutes later, Ben's exhaustion won out again. His chin dropped toward his chest.
The rope snapped taut.
Ben let out a strangled shriek, his hands flying to his throat as he scrambled upright, gasping for air.
"What is... this!" Ben croaked, his fingers desperately pulling at the rough fibers around his neck. He stared at Klein in absolute terror. No way. This could not be happening. Just because he sleepwalked, his cousin was actually trying to execute him!
Seeing the sheer panic in Ben's eyes, Klein stepped forward and loosened the knot, pulling the rope off. A joke was a joke, but accidental asphyxiation might be crossing a line.
"Then there is no other way. We will just have to resort to a simpler, more traditional method," Klein sighed.
He walked back to the storage compartments, digging through the miscellaneous junk until he found exactly what he needed.
He returned holding a silver sports whistle and a bright plastic toy trumpet.
Klein tossed the toy trumpet to Gwen. He placed the whistle between his own lips and pulled up a chair, sitting directly in front of Ben. He did not blink. He just watched him.
Seeing the eager, almost predatory gleam in Klein's eyes, Ben felt his soul leave his body. His cousin was actually going to torment him to death.
Meanwhile, inside the mall's administrative offices, Grandpa Max sat across from the mall manager, trying to extract any detail about Sublimino's whereabouts.
But no matter what angle Grandpa Max tried, the manager sat rigidly behind his desk, his eyes slightly glazed.
"This is just an isolated incident," the manager repeated, his voice flat and monotonous. "The mall will continue to operate normally, and we will definitely ensure the safety of our customers."
Grandpa Max frowned, leaning forward. "I understand that, but I just need to know if the performer left a forwarding—"
"This is just an isolated incident," the manager interrupted, his tone identical to the last time. "The mall will continue to operate normally, and we will definitely ensure the safety of our customers."
Realizing he was talking to a brick wall, Grandpa Max sighed in frustration. He stood up and walked out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him.
The moment the room was empty, a side door connecting to a private lounge slowly creaked open.
Sublimino stepped out, adjusting his oversized top hat. He stared at the closed office door with a dark, calculating gaze.
"It seems the plan needs to be sped up," Sublimino muttered to himself, twisting his pocket watch. "After robbing this place blind, we will leave immediately."
"Ben... what happened to him?"
Grandpa Max froze in the doorway of the Rustbucket, genuinely startled by the sight before him.
Ben sat huddled in the corner of the booth. His hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and he flinched violently at the slightest sound. He looked like a broken shell of a boy.
"Grandpa, do not worry about what happened to him," Klein said quickly, feeling a rare twinge of awkwardness under the older man's scrutinizing gaze. "Just tell me if he is asleep or not."
Grandpa Max shook his head helplessly, deciding not to ask questions he did not want the answers to. "We do not have any information on Sublimino right now. The manager was no help at all, so tracking him down is going to be difficult."
"No way!" Ben wailed, his voice cracking as he gripped his own hair. "Does that mean I still cannot sleep! Just let me die already!"
He buried his face in his hands, teetering on the absolute edge of a mental breakdown.
"Ben, hold on, do not panic yet," Grandpa Max said, quickly stepping in to comfort his grandson. "Let's go back into the mall and look around ourselves. Maybe Sublimino is still hiding somewhere inside."
"Let's go then," Klein agreed immediately, eager to move the plot along. "We will search the mall top to bottom."
He pushed open the door of the Rustbucket and stepped out into the afternoon air, leaving a traumatized Ben to drag himself up and follow.
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