Chapter 94: Aliens Still Use Earth's Money?
"Two big brothers, please, just let me go, okay?" Dean babbled, his knees knocking together so hard they practically played a drum solo. "I am just a lowly comic artist! I have an eighty-year-old mother above me, an eight-year-old daughter below me, and I am still a single dog! My life is a miserable tragedy! Have mercy!"
Dean's words tumbled out in an incoherent, terrified rush.
Hearing this, Four Arms blinked his four eyes in utter bewilderment. Sticking to his golden rule of asking his cousin whenever he was confused, the massive Tetramand turned his heavy head toward Heatblast. "Cousin, how can he have a daughter if he is not even married?"
Cousin?!
Dean's breath hitched. He subconsciously glanced at the towering, four-armed crimson giant, and then turned his wide eyes toward the walking humanoid bonfire. These two clearly did not share a single strand of DNA!
A bizarre realization seemed to dawn on Dean, his eyes widening in absolute disbelief. "Damn, you guys are even wilder than me!"
He snapped his mouth shut immediately after, terrified of saying another word. What if these two extraterrestrials had some twisted, special hobbies?! One was literally smoking hot, and the other was built like a brick outhouse. They would tear him apart!
Ignoring the comic artist's internal panic, Heatblast simply crossed his fiery arms. "You are still too young. You will understand when you are older."
"Oh." Four Arms scratched his chin. He did not quite grasp the logic, but whatever his cousin said was absolute truth. He would figure it out eventually.
By this point, the crowd that had been queuing for autographs had not dispersed. Instead, the circle of onlookers had grown thicker, completely captivated by the unfolding drama.
"Dean!" Four Arms lifted the comic artist off the ground with a single, massive hand, bringing him eye-level. He glared down with a fierce, intimidating scowl. "Do you dare to ruin the reputation of our alien heroes ever again?!"
"Big brother! I swear, I really do not dare anymore!"
Dangling in the air, Dean suddenly felt a distinct, uncomfortable warmth spreading through his trousers. A sticky, damp sensation dripped down his leg.
Satisfied with the sheer terror he had instilled, Four Arms dropped Dean back onto the pavement. He turned toward Heatblast, his chest puffed out, practically wagging an invisible tail for praise. "Cousin, I solved everything!"
Heatblast did not offer any verbal praise. Instead, he reached out, grabbed Dean by the collar, and dragged the trembling man behind a large promotional poster, completely out of sight from the crowd.
Why is he dragging me back here? Could it be?!
Dean subconsciously tightened his glutes, his mind racing with horrific scenarios. But after a second of frantic calculation, he let out a defeated sigh and relaxed his posture. "You want that, right?! Fine! As long as you let me live, just get it over with! Come on!"
Heatblast tilted his flaming head, utterly baffled by the man's dramatic surrender. He brushed past the weird comment entirely and got straight to the point. "How much money did you make from drawing those bootleg alien hero comics?"
He wants my money?! That is even worse than the other thing!
Dean wanted to protest, to scream that they were bullying him too much, but looking at the magma dripping from Heatblast's chin, he swallowed his pride. He would just have to endure it.
"Big brother, all the money is yours! Take it! But... the funds are currently sitting in the bank..." Dean stammered, his mind still spinning, desperately trying to figure out a way to keep a fraction of his ill-gotten wealth.
"Transfer it to this card."
Heatblast pulled a small, slightly crumpled piece of paper from somewhere within his fiery form and shoved it into Dean's chest. A string of bank account numbers was neatly written across it.
As for whether Dean could use this account number to track them down... that was purely overthinking. One simply had to trust in Grey Matter's flawless technological handiwork.
To be completely honest, if Klein did not want to experience the mundane, grounded joy of physically extorting his own money back, he could have easily manipulated the world's financial networks to drain the man's accounts remotely.
Damn it, you aliens even have Earth bank cards?!
Dean stood completely dumbfounded, his brain short-circuiting as he numbly accepted the slip of paper.
Any lingering thoughts of pulling a fast one vanished from his mind. If this alien could track him down here, he could easily find him a second time.
If his money was gone, he could always find some wealthy, eighty-year-old widow to exchange his labor for cash. But if his life was gone, it was game over for good.
Seeing the comic artist nod frantically, tears streaming down his face as he agreed to the transfer, Heatblast gave a satisfied nod. He turned and walked away, leaving a highly confused Four Arms trailing behind him.
The scene shifted to Kangaroo Commando's live performance venue.
Seeing Klein and Ben walking back toward her, Gwen quickly marched over, her hands planted firmly on her hips.
She grabbed Ben by the sleeve, pulling him slightly aside, and lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "Dweeb, that guy... is he still alive?"
"Dean? Of course he is still alive! We are not bad guys!" Ben crossed his arms, glaring back at Gwen with deep displeasure. How dare she doubt his and his cousin's superhero moral integrity?!
"It is time to go in. The performance is about to start," Klein called out, his tone flat and unbothered.
Ben and Gwen quickly dropped their argument and followed him toward the entrance.
As Ben strutted through the venue doors, he threw his hands up excitedly. "I bet it is absolutely packed inside! Standing room only!"
They stepped into the arena. The echoing silence was deafening.
Klein, Ben, and Gwen stood at the entrance, staring at the vast, circular seating arrangement. Aside from a handful of scattered individuals eating popcorn, the place was a ghost town.
Klein stood in silence for a long moment. He slowly turned his head to look down at his younger cousin. "How much money did you bet on this?"
Ben stood completely dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open, entirely unable to process the tragic reality of his hero's popularity.
The trio eventually moved down the aisles, easily finding a perfect spot with a completely unobstructed view, and sat down.
Kangaroo Commando's performance area was set up like a large, theatrical stage surrounded by the audience. In the center sat a rustic wooden house, completely encircled by a deep swimming pool. The spectator bleachers wrapped around the water.
Soon, the dramatic music flared to life, and the performance began.
Kangaroo Commando marched out from the interior of the wooden house, striking a heroic pose before climbing up to the rooftop. He stood on the very edge of the shingles, puffing out his chest as he gazed out at his meager audience.
Right at that moment, a loud pyrotechnic blast echoed through the arena. The house suddenly caught fire. The wooden planks directly beneath Kangaroo Commando's boots shattered with a loud crack.
The hero plummeted downward, but miraculously, his costume snagged onto a protruding, sturdy wooden beam, leaving him dangling dangerously over the growing flames.
The fire roared, growing larger and more aggressive by the second. The wooden structure began to groan and creak, clearly struggling to support its own weight under the intense heat.
"No! I have to save him!" Ben shouted, leaping out of his seat and sprinting up the aisle before anyone could stop him.
He is getting carried away again?
Klein and Gwen exchanged a long, deeply confused glance.
"Uh, should we call him back?" Gwen asked, leaning toward Klein. After all, it would be incredibly rude if Ben ruined someone else's carefully choreographed show.
It was painfully obvious to both Klein and Gwen that Kangaroo Commando was not in any actual danger. The fire, the fall, the dangling—it was all a highly scripted, theatrical stunt.
Klein simply shook his head, a faint, amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He figured Ben's sudden, unscripted entry would make this boring performance significantly more entertaining.
A few moments later, a familiar streak of fire shot across the arena ceiling. Heatblast flew over from the sky, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake.
He landed heavily right next to the burning wooden house. Without missing a beat, Heatblast extended his fiery hands, creating a vacuum of heat that instantly absorbed all the roaring flames consuming the structure.
With the fire extinguished, Heatblast easily reached up and pulled Kangaroo Commando down from the wooden beam, setting him safely on the ground.
Heatblast stood tall, puffing out his chest, looking at Kangaroo Commando with bright, eager anticipation, fully expecting a shower of gratitude from his idol.
Instead, Kangaroo Commando violently brushed the soot off his shoulders, his face twisting into a furious scowl. He pointed a finger right at the alien's chest. "Who exactly are you?!"
The sheer hostility in the question left Heatblast completely stunned. He took a step back, quickly raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I am your number one fan!"
Hearing this, Kangaroo Commando crossed his arms, his glare deepening. "Then why did you just ruin my performance?!"
"Performance? This is a performance?!" Heatblast looked back at the charred, smoking remains of the wooden house in absolute disbelief. He then turned his head toward the stands, locking eyes with Klein and Gwen, who were sitting comfortably, thoroughly enjoying the unfolding disaster. "Oh! How annoying!"
"Enough! I do not want to hear your nonsense anymore!" Kangaroo Commando roared, stepping forward and delivering a swift, heavy kick straight to Heatblast's midsection, sending the alien stumbling backward.
"Oh! I get it!" Heatblast suddenly perked up, rubbing his chest. His fanboy mind immediately began performing mental gymnastics, automatically generating a perfect excuse for the hero he had idolized since childhood. "This is also a performance! An impromptu performance, right?!"
Seeing the fiery alien stand back up, completely unfazed, Kangaroo Commando let out a frustrated grunt and made a sharp, provocative gesture with his hands.
Taking the bait, Heatblast charged forward, throwing a rapid flurry of punches at Kangaroo Commando. However, holding back his superhuman strength to play along with the show, his strikes were slow and telegraphed. Kangaroo Commando easily bobbed and weaved, dodging every single blow.
Finding an opening, Kangaroo Commando drove a solid punch into Heatblast's jaw, forcing the alien back a few steps. He then leaped into the air, delivering a rapid double-kick to Heatblast's chest, using the recoil momentum to backflip gracefully onto the roof of the wooden house.
Heatblast shook his head to clear the ringing, deciding to add some special effects to the act. He tossed a few small, harmless fireballs toward the roof.
Kangaroo Commando easily sidestepped the incoming projectiles. He swiftly drew his signature grappling gun from his belt, fired a hook into the wooden rafters above, and swung down like a pendulum.
With a perfectly timed, swinging dropkick, Kangaroo Commando slammed both boots squarely into Heatblast's chest, launching the fiery alien straight off the platform and directly into the surrounding swimming pool.
A massive cloud of steam erupted as Heatblast hit the water with a loud hiss.
"Woohoo!"
"Yeah! Get him!"
Drawn in by the explosive, unscripted fight between Kangaroo Commando and a literal fire monster, people had been steadily pouring into the venue. The once-empty audience seats were now completely packed, the crowd roaring with thunderous applause.
Kangaroo Commando stood proudly at the edge of the pool, raising his arms to soak in the deafening cheers of his newly acquired audience.
Meanwhile, a soggy, thoroughly extinguished Ben quietly slipped out of the pool and slinked away into the shadows.
After leaving the venue, Klein and Gwen waited near the exit until they finally spotted Ben trudging toward them.
Despite being soaking wet, Ben's eyes were shining with absolute thrill. He ran up to them, pumping his fist. "That was awesome! I actually got to perform with Kangaroo Commando!"
Gwen, however, did not share his enthusiasm. Her face was flushed with anger, furious that her cousin had just been publicly beaten up for absolutely no reason. "Dweeb! You should know better! He was not performing with you! That guy was completely serious just now! He was actually trying to hurt you!"
Ben waved off her concern, completely uncaring. He turned his bright, eager eyes toward Klein, practically vibrating with excitement. "Cousin, do you want to join me next time?! The two of us alien heroes could totally be permanent partners with Kangaroo Commando!"
Klein stared down at Ben, his expression completely blank. He let the silence stretch for a long, heavy moment before speaking, his voice carrying a dry, chilling calm.
"Do you want Kangaroo Commando to disappear forever?"
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