Chapter 156: Real-Name Verification
Crouched behind the rusted bulk of a shipping container, Ben and the others remained completely oblivious to the underlying tension, chatting away in hushed whispers.
Gwen adjusted her position, peering into the dimly lit docking bay. "So, what exactly are we doing out here in the freezing cold?"
The Plumber, a gruff extraterrestrial lawman, kept his eyes glued to the empty lot ahead. "According to the intelligence your grandfather provided, the Forever Knights..."
"They're trading illegal alien tech. Yeah, I know the drill. We've busted their heads plenty of times before," Ben cut in, waving a hand dismissively.
The Plumber shot the teenager a flat look before continuing. "If the intel holds up, they will be arriving tonight to exchange a massive shipment of contraband Level 5 technology."
Gwen frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. "And who exactly is supplying them with this tech?"
The Plumber let out a heavy sigh, his broad shoulders rising and falling. "I do not know. Max was supposed to brief us on the supplier's identity, but he vanished before he could pass on the file."
Crouched just a few feet away, Kevin Levin felt a distinct, icy prickle of sweat bead at the back of his neck. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously between the Plumber and the empty lot.
Klein, on the other hand, looked like he was waiting for a bus. He slouched against the corrugated metal of the container, utterly unfazed. At worst, this situation was mildly awkward. Nothing a little violence couldn't fix.
So what if Kevin got outed as the middleman? Yeah, he did it. What are you gonna do about it? Fly over here and throw hands? Good luck with that.
Klein's casual arrogance was a well-documented fact by now. Besides, technically speaking, he wasn't breaking any intergalactic laws. The Tetramand Trial by Combat statutes gave him plenty of legal loopholes to punch his way out of any jurisdiction.
"Relax," Klein murmured, reaching over to give Kevin's rigid shoulder a comforting pat. "You're just stressing because you haven't done enough shady stuff lately. You'll get used to the heat again."
Ben blinked, leaning over. "What are you talking about?"
Klein didn't miss a beat. "Kevin ate a bad chili dog. He's fighting for his life trying not to crap his pants."
Kevin shot Klein a look of deep betrayal. You are truly the greatest boss in the universe.
Yet, bizarrely enough, the sheer absurdity of the excuse actually made the knot in Kevin's stomach loosen a fraction.
"Quiet. Someone is approaching." The Plumber raised a hand, signaling for absolute silence.
The low, rumbling growl of heavy diesel engines echoed through the abandoned docks. Twin beams of headlights cut through the fog as two massive transport trucks rolled into the clearing, their tires crunching over gravel. The engines cut off, and the heavy metal doors swung open. Two distinct factions stepped out into the damp night air.
On one side stood Klein's old punching bags: the Forever Knights. They were decked out in their signature medieval armor, draped in heavy red cloaks with deep hoods pulled low to obscure their faces.
The opposing group looked deceptively mundane. They dressed like ordinary Earthlings—mostly thugs in cheap suits, flanked by a bald, pot-bellied middle-aged man whose flushed face suggested a deep, lifelong romance with cheap whiskey.
The two factions arranged themselves on opposite sides of the clearing. They stood there, staring each other down in total, unbroken silence. The wind howled softly off the water, but neither side made a move to speak.
Ben squinted through the darkness, thoroughly confused. "What are they doing? Having a staring contest?"
"They are likely waiting for their broker," the Plumber whispered back, his tone analytical. "Black market transactions of this scale always require a neutral middleman to verify the goods and the currency."
Minutes ticked by. The silence stretched until it became physically uncomfortable.
Finally, someone's patience snapped.
The lead Forever Knight stepped forward, his armored boots clanking against the asphalt. "Where in the blazes is Kevin Levin?!" he barked, his voice echoing off the metal shipping containers.
Behind the container, four heads slowly swiveled to stare directly at Kevin. The sweat on the Osmosian's forehead was now practically a waterfall.
Klein gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in mock horror. "Oh, Kevin! How could you involve yourself in such a wretched hive of scum and villainy?! Does your conscience not weep?" He gave Kevin a hard, totally unsympathetic shove toward the edge of the container. "Go on. Stall them before they start shooting."
Boss, I swear to God... Kevin wanted to weep, but his tear ducts were too paralyzed by stress to function.
The Plumber leveled a stern, highly professional glare at the teenager. "It appears I will have to place you under arrest once this operation concludes."
Klein's mock-playful demeanor vanished instantly. He shot the Plumber a flat, dangerous look. "Hey. Watch your tone. That's my subordinate. I do the lecturing around here, not you."
The Plumber, acutely aware of the terrifying power dynamics at play, wisely chose to de-escalate. "He is actively helping the sale of illegal Level 5 technology," he pointed out, trying to sound reasonable. "He broke intergalactic law..."
"Then take it up with the Galactic Court," Klein fired back, completely unbothered. "You want to throw the rulebook at us? Fine. File the paperwork. We'll see you in court."
Klein had literally beaten Galactic Court judges to a pulp in the past. A local Plumber citing legal statutes was about as threatening as a wet paper towel.
The Plumber wisely shut his mouth. He grumbled internally, realizing that the rumors about this terrifying anomaly were entirely accurate. You couldn't beat him in a fight, and you certainly couldn't beat him in an argument.
Seeing Klein ruthlessly shut down an intergalactic cop on his behalf, Kevin felt a genuine surge of emotion. "Boss..." he whispered, his eyes shining with gratitude.
"Don't get sappy on me. Get out there, stall the buyers, and figure out what they're actually trading." Klein planted a boot squarely on Kevin's backside and shoved him out into the open.
Kevin stumbled out from behind the rusted metal wall, flailing his arms to catch his balance. Both factions turned to stare at the sudden arrival with deep, collective confusion.
The lead Forever Knight crossed his armored arms, glaring through the slit of his visor. "Why are you only arriving now? You are late, Levin."
"Yeah, my bad. Had a bit of a... logistical issue on the way over." Kevin forced a tight, awkward grin, waving a hand dismissively.
Desperate to shift the focus away from his undignified entrance, he clapped his hands together. "Anyway, let's skip the small talk. Time is money. Let's get this transaction rolling."
The Knight commander gave a sharp nod. He raised a gauntleted hand, signaling the men behind him. Two squires stepped forward, pushing a heavy-duty metal cart loaded with securely locked cases into the center of the clearing.
Kevin strode forward, projecting a false air of confidence. He popped the latches on the top crate and flipped the lid open. Neatly stacked bundles of high-denomination bills stared back at him.
"The currency is all here. Good to go." Kevin snapped the case shut and nodded toward the silent group of Earthlings.
The sharply dressed man leading the opposing faction gave a curt nod. He snapped his fingers. The pot-bellied, bald man grunted, hauling a heavy pallet jack out from the back of their transport truck. Several reinforced steel lockboxes rested on top of it.
Before the goods could be fully wheeled over, Kevin casually strolled up to the man in the suit. He threw a friendly, overly familiar arm around the guy's rigid shoulders. "Hey, buddy. Smooth operation so far. How about we grab a drink after this is all wrapped up? I don't think I ever caught where your crew operates out of."
The man stared straight ahead, his expression blank.
Kevin patted the fabric of the man's jacket. "Nice tailoring, by the way. Italian? Where do you even buy something like this?"
Still nothing. Not even a blink.
"So, what's your usual racket? Smuggling? Tech fencing? If you guys are pulling in serious cash, maybe you could cut me in on the next job?"
Alright, confirmed. This guy is literally a brick wall.
Kevin dropped his arm, turning his back to the silent smugglers. He shot a desperate, helpless look toward the shipping container where his team was hiding, subtly shrugging his shoulders.
Back in the shadows, Klein sighed. "Looks like Kevin's charisma stat is too low to get any answers." He pushed himself off the metal wall, rolling his shoulders. "I'll handle this."
Ben and Gwen didn't even blink; they trusted Klein's methods implicitly, no matter how chaotic they usually were. The Plumber, however, tensed up. He had no idea what this unpredictable powerhouse was about to do, but he was powerless to stop him. He could only grip his blaster and wait.
Klein stepped out from the darkness, his footsteps echoing casually against the concrete.
The sudden appearance of a second party instantly derailed the tense atmosphere. Both factions froze, staring at the newcomer in absolute bewilderment.
What the hell is going on? Are people just randomly spawning behind that container?
But the Forever Knights weren't just confused—they were utterly horrified. If the universe was going to randomly spawn a new character into this encounter, why did it have to be the final boss?!
The Knights collectively stopped breathing. The air turned to ice in their lungs. Over the past few years, they had lost at least eight—maybe ten—high-ranking commanders to this exact teenager. Entire factions of the Forever Knights had been forced to restructure their leadership twice just to recover from the sheer volume of concussions Klein had handed out.
It had gotten so bad that the Forever King himself had issued a strict, faction-wide mandate: Under no circumstances are you to engage Klein.
Ignoring the sheer terror radiating from the armored men, Klein strolled right into the middle of the clearing. He hopped up and seated himself comfortably right on top of the crates full of illegal alien tech.
"What is the meaning of—" the Knight commander started to bark, his pride momentarily overriding his survival instincts.
Klein merely tilted his head, his eyes locking onto the visor.
"What... what do you mean by this, sir?" the commander instantly corrected, his voice dropping an octave as he practically shrank into his armor.
"Don't you guys watch the news? Everything requires real-name verification these days," Klein stated, his tone completely matter-of-fact. He snapped his fingers. "Kevin! Check their IDs!"
"You got it, Boss!" Kevin's nervous energy instantly evaporated, replaced by a smug, predatory grin. He swaggered right up to the terrified Forever Knight commander.
"Name?" Kevin demanded, pulling out a small notepad he definitely didn't need.
The commander hesitated, his voice trembling slightly beneath his helmet. "...Rikawa Steelplate."
Kevin paused, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're Japanese?"
"I am a glorious warrior of the order!" the Knight sputtered defensively.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Workplace?"
"The... The Forever Knights."
Kevin pointed his pen at the squire next to him. "And you?"
"Rikawa Cactus," the squire squeaked.
Kevin snapped the notepad shut. "Boss, their paperwork checks out. No problems here." He gave Klein a thumbs-up.
Klein didn't even crack a smile. He just tilted his chin toward the silent group of smugglers on the other side of the clearing.
Kevin nodded, pivoting on his heel. He marched right up to the sharply dressed leader. "Alright, pal. Name?"
The man just stared at him, his face a completely blank mask.
"Damn it, he really is a mute!" Kevin threw his hands up in exasperation, turning back to the crates. "Boss? I'm getting nothing out of this guy."
Klein let out a heavy, theatrical sigh, shrugging his shoulders. He hopped down from the crates, dusting off his pants. He turned toward the shipping container and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Well, we tried the diplomatic route! You guys can come out now!"
What?! There are MORE of them?!
The Forever Knights practically went into cardiac arrest. Under the horrified gazes of both criminal factions, Ben, Gwen, and the Plumber stepped out from the shadows of the container, fully armed and ready for a fight.
The Plumber didn't waste a single second. He thrust his left hand forward, his Plumber badge flashing a brilliant, authoritative green light, while his right hand leveled a heavy plasma rifle directly at the smugglers.
"Hands in the air! All of you!" the Plumber roared, his voice booming with absolute authority. "Air breathers! By the authority of the Plumbers, you are all under arrest!"
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