Chapter 197: Mysterious Man
"Regardless of your excuses, I have already dispatched a new Plumber to Earth." Magister Gilhil adjusted his rigid collar, his tone entirely devoid of compromise. "If you truly possess evidence of an impending alien invasion, you will hand it over to him upon his arrival. Let him handle official Plumber duties."
Kevin crossed his arms, letting out a harsh scoff. "He will arrive in a few months? By the time that guy gets here, Earth is going to have a new name and a new management."
Gilhil completely ignored the Osmosian. He turned his stern gaze toward Klein and Ben. "You two possess the Omnitrix. Because of that, you hold special exemptions. The Galvan High Council has explicitly instructed us not to bother you with trivial matters."
His eyes then shifted back to Kevin, narrowing into a sharp glare. "As for you..."
Gilhil took a step forward. "You have an extensive criminal record. You have served time in the Null Void for countless offenses."
Hearing this, Klein, Ben, and Gwen exchanged subtle, knowing glances.
After all, they were the exact reason Kevin had a Null Void record in the first place. Back when they were eleven years old, a chaotic period shortly after their infamous summer road trip, Kevin had thought highly of himself. He constantly sought them out, picking fights and causing property damage. Klein, finding the constant interruptions to his lazy afternoons incredibly annoying, had simply grabbed Kevin by the collar and casually tossed him into an open Null Void projector.
That single, effortless toss had left a deep psychological shadow on Kevin. Years later, when he unexpectedly bumped into Klein on a distant planet, the Osmosian had nearly jumped out of his own skin in sheer terror.
But those were old times. Water under the bridge.
Klein shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped up, his expression relaxed. "Cut him some slack. Do me a favor and let this go for today."
Gilhil's rigid posture did not waver. "Very well. As long as he hands over his Plumber badge, I will let him walk away."
He extended an open, expectant hand toward Kevin.
Kevin instinctively clamped a hand over his pocket, taking a half-step back. "But Magister Labrid gave this to me. I still need it..."
"I do not care who gave it to you." Gilhil's voice dropped, cold and authoritative. "If you are not an active Plumber, nor the direct descendant of a Plumber, you cannot legally possess that badge. I will say it one last time. Hand it over."
Kevin's usual tough-guy facade crumbled. He looked genuinely desperate. "Please do not take it. Come on, man, please."
"Do not make me repeat myself, or I will personally escort you back to the Null Void." Gilhil's patience had completely evaporated. His hand remained outstretched, demanding compliance.
Left with absolutely no use, Kevin gritted his teeth. He slowly reached into his pocket, pulled out the metallic badge, and dropped it into Gilhil's palm.
Gilhil secured the badge on his belt. "You are dismissed. If you interfere with official Plumber duties again, I do not care what Azmuth has to say. I will lock all three of you in the Null Void."
He directed that last threat at Ben and Gwen. As for Klein, Gilhil knew better than to make promises he could not keep.
According to the highly classified files stored in the Plumber database, Klein's sheer combat output had long surpassed anything their organization could contain. Even if the Plumbers mobilized their highest-grade technological weaponry and elite strike teams, the calculated success rate of apprehending Klein sat at a dismal zero point three percent.
Because of this terrifying statistic, the Plumber High Command had held multiple emergency meetings. Combined with Grandpa Max's personal guarantee of his grandson's character, the organization had reached a silent consensus: turn a blind eye to whatever Klein did. Unless they received a direct, absolute mandate from the highest cosmic authorities, no Plumber was to engage him.
Having said his piece, Gilhil tapped the insignia on his chest plate. A hum of teleportation energy surrounded him, and his figure dissolved into a beam of light, vanishing from the street.
Ben let out a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. "Well, that is that. We are officially out of luck."
Klein looked at Ben, his face a mask of deadpan disbelief. "Are you seriously going to listen to that guy?"
"What else are we supposed to do?"
"If he actually tries to arrest you, we will just take a trip to the galactic court and reason with them." Klein cracked his knuckles, the physical implication of his version of reasoning hanging heavy in the air.
Gwen tilted her head, her brow furrowed in thought. "It is good that you can still move freely, Cousin. But why did he specifically say he had no right to arrest you?"
Klein shrugged, his tone entirely casual. "Because he cannot beat me."
To Klein, it was basic logic. The Plumbers were not stupid. Why would they willingly march to their deaths in an unwinnable fight? With Grandpa Max acting as a diplomatic bridge, they had no reason to intentionally sour their relationship with a walking weapon of mass destruction.
Meanwhile, lightyears away.
Deep inside the cold, metallic bowels of a Highbreed command ship.
The heavy blast doors of the main corridor suddenly groaned, buckling inward before exploding into a shower of jagged shrapnel. Smoke poured through the breach.
A figure stepped through the settling dust. He was draped head-to-toe in black, his face concealed behind a heavy iron helmet, his hands encased in thick iron gauntlets.
Two DNAliens guarding the entrance let out gurgling roars. Their grotesque, mutated bodies lurched forward, tentacles flailing as they charged the intruder.
The masked man did not even break his stride. He raised his right hand, his iron-clad fingers pinching together in a delicate, almost theatrical gesture.
A pulse of crackling black energy erupted from his fingertips.
The dark wave slammed into the charging DNAliens. The moment the energy made contact, it clung to them like liquid tar. The creatures collapsed to the floor, their roars twisting into high-pitched wails of agony as the dark energy violently siphoned their vitality.
Once the two mutants were reduced to twitching, weakened husks on the metal grating, the masked man casually withdrew his hand. The black energy snapped back into his palm. He stepped over their bodies and continued down the corridor.
Alarms blared. Within seconds, a swarm of DNAliens flooded the hallway, blocking his path.
The masked man paused. When he spoke, his voice was slightly distorted by the helmet, carrying a soft, effeminate lilt. "I am here to see your boss."
The DNAliens, entirely uninterested in his request, lunged at him from all sides.
The masked man sighed. He raised both hands, his fingers forming that same delicate, pinched gesture. Twin torrents of black energy blasted outward, sweeping through the confined space.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Bodies slammed against the steel bulkheads. Mutants were thrown through the air, crashing onto the floor in writhing heaps. Not a single creature managed to get within three feet of him.
Leaving a trail of groaning bodies in his wake, the masked man arrived at a reinforced iron door at the end of the corridor.
He raised his hand, hooking his little finger under the edge of the heavy metal frame. With a casual, effortless tug, he ripped the massive door entirely off its hinges and tossed it aside like a piece of scrap paper.
Inside the command center, a towering Highbreed commander heard the crash. The pale, multi-eyed alien stood up from his control console, turning to glare at the intruder.
"You filthy little alien mongrel!" the Highbreed boomed, his voice dripping with aristocratic disgust. "You dare break into a Highbreed command center and wreak havoc?"
The masked man said nothing. He simply walked into the room, his heavy iron boots clanking against the floor, closing the distance between them.
"Not speaking?" The Highbreed sneered, raising a massive, clawed hand. "That is fine. Dead men do not need names."
The Highbreed swung his arm, delivering a devastating backhand.
The strike connected with the masked man's chest, sending him flying backward. He crashed violently through the interior wall, leaving a massive, jagged crater in the metal plating.
A moment of silence passed. Then, a low chuckle echoed from the dust.
"You truly live up to your reputation," the masked man sneered.
He stepped out of the rubble, completely unharmed. Reaching back into the crater, he pried a massive chunk of torn steel and concrete from the wall, hurling it directly at the commander's head.
The Highbreed shattered the incoming projectile with a single punch. Enraged, the commander let out a deafening roar. The two pairs of pale wings on his back snapped open, expanding to their full, intimidating wingspan.
"Come on," the masked man taunted softly. "Show me your best moves."
He raised his left hand, pinching his fingers toward the towering alien.
A concentrated blast of dark energy shot forward, instantly enveloping the Highbreed. The commander's roar caught in his throat. His massive legs buckled under the sudden, agonizing drain of his life force, forcing him to his knees.
Standing over the kneeling commander, the masked man brought his right hand up to cover his mouth.
"Ho ho ho ho..." he laughed, the sound echoing through the ruined command center with a chilling, theatrical elegance.
A bright, sunny morning on Earth.
The parking lot outside Mr. Smoothy was relatively quiet. Kevin sat on the hood of his beloved green muscle car, his shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed blankly on the asphalt. He radiated a thick aura of absolute depression.
"Want some?"
A cold, sweating paper cup was suddenly thrust into his line of sight.
Kevin blinked, slowly looking up to see Ben standing there. He let out a heavy sigh, took the cup from Ben's hand, and took a slow sip through the straw. He paused, smacking his lips. "Oh. Tulip and Wheatgrass?"
"What is wrong with it?" Ben asked, taking a loud slurp from his own identical cup. "I love it. It even has a shot of ginger juice."
Ben chewed on a piece of ice, analyzing the flavor. The taste was perfectly fine. Excellent, even.
Since there was absolutely nothing wrong with the smoothie, Ben concluded that the problem must be Kevin. He lowered his cup, narrowing his eyes and shooting Kevin a look of intense, unfiltered disdain for ruining the morning vibe.
Kevin suddenly shivered. He looked around suspiciously, feeling a sudden chill crawl up his spine.
Gwen walked over, sipping her own drink. She looked at Kevin's miserable posture, her brow furrowing in confusion. "So, what is wrong with you, Kevin?"
Kevin looked at his three companions standing around his car. He let out another long, dramatic sigh, clearly preparing to pour his heart out. "Do you guys really want to hear it?"
Ben, Klein, and Gwen stared at him for a second.
"Uh... actually, not really," Ben said.
"No," Klein added flatly.
Gwen took another sip of her smoothie. "We are good."
[Akarin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/AkarinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/AkarinTL
🔗 All My Links: linktr[.]ee/AkarinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]