Yo! It's me again!

I know, this chapter was a bit late, as I usually update once every seven or so days, but I failed to do that, and I apologize.

Now, this chapter will finally feature in some of the dirty work Ben will be doing. He'll be making a difference and that will become very apparent, very soon. Know that Ben will not be giving mercy to his enemies. Know that Ben won't have any mercy towards anyone that carelessly kills innocents or people like the Joker.

I will be letting this be known now, as some may not understand what type of character Ben is. But I will let you all in on a little info.

Ben is not the type of person to give mercy. He was forced to become as merciless as they come. He was forced to kill for the sake of his survival, at the age of 10. He was forced to have to the Omnitrix after he found it. He grew up around some of darkest, most evil beings in the Universe. Ben fought almost every day, for the better part of his first 6 years in the Null Void. It wasn't until his seventh year, that he was able to somewhat stay away from action. But, don't let it fool you that he wasn't still fighting.

He was still having battles with Vilgax, Kevin and many other powerful beings.

Over the years, he had killed an unfathomable amount of people just for the sake of survival.

Ben regrets it every day, which is why he even decided to become a vigilante and do what very few had the balls to do.

That is all I have to say. I hope that sheds some light on a little of the history of Ben's stay in the Null Void.

ZZZ

A thick grapple wire shot forward at quick speeds and impacted with the side of brick wall and pierced it. At the end of the wire, a hook exploded forward, securing the wire's strength into the wall

From a roof on the other side of a street in the dusk of night, stood Ben stacked up in full gear with a grapple gun in his hand. He wore pure monochrome clothing, a black hoodie, followed up by a black full body coat, black pants, black boots and a black top.

He walked over to the edge of the building and looked down to the street, which was fifteen stories below. He kept gazing at it before he suddenly took one step forward and dropped off the roof.

He would have kept falling straight down, had it not been for the grapple wire that swung him forward and allowed him covertly to travel to another roof. As he neared it, he let go of the grapple and sailed through the air before grasping onto the edge of the building.

Ben held his grip strongly before a dim glow spread through gloves and gave a slightly brighter glow of some sort of confirmation. Nodding slightly, he started shuffling past outside of the building wall before dropping down for a second.

He threw his hands forward a full second later and slammed them onto a window. But surprisingly, he didn't smash it, nor did he keep falling. No, the gloves that he was wearing prevented half of that and kept he stuck there.

But all he had to do to move, was to move his hands a certain way and that corresponding glove would react and disengage.

Ben shuffled to left and stopped after passing four windows when he saw a room filled with men and women alike.

Eighteen men and women sat around a large, oak wood table and at the corners of the room, stood eight armed men with masks on and they just stared straight.

The occupants that were sitting around the table, were talking and there multiple suitcases opened and were filled to the brim, each case easily holding a minimal of a couple of million dollars.

In the back of the room, were twenty suitcases filled with cocaine and other drugs. There must have been around two, maybe sixty, eight pounds of drugs stuffed into those cases.

Ben narrowed his gaze as he spied on them through the window and he was easily able to see where the money was, to identify who the buyers and dealers were and where the drugs were.

He stared through for a couple more seconds before he climbed up the wall and made his way up to the roof. Once he made it up there, he deactivated his gloves and crouched down onto the floor and pulled out two large, brown cases that were previously being kept hidden underneath a pile of trash.

Ben unclipped the top and opened the cases.

Inside the first, was a pile of weapons and ammunition. He stared at it for a short moment before he pulled out two of the largest weapons and set them down beside him.

Those two weapons were a modified Remington R4 Rifle. That rifle was completely mat-black, it had a standard military grade holographic sight, a foregrip, an extended and duel magazine. Each magazine held forty-one bullets and shot eight-hundred and sixty rounds per minute.

The second weapon was a SIG MPX that only had a foregrip and a reflex sight attached to it.

Ben quickly reached inside the case and retrieved a few magazines for each weapon and loaded them both within a couple of seconds. He then received a pair of suppressors and attached them as well before he slung both of the weapons underneath his coat and kept them there.

He then grabbed two sidearms, which was a suppressed Beretta 92 and a suppressed FN Five-Seven. Both were one of his favorite firearms and used them a lot while training. However, he never really had the chance to use them, as regular firearms wouldn't do jack-shit to any of his enemies in the Null Void.

But that went without saying that he was really gifted with using firearms. He had beyond perfect eyesight, his senses were trained perfectly, and his situational awareness was at a level at which only some could even dream of achieving. Plus, he needed a hobby and firing guns and collecting them served to do just that.

So, he strapped both of them in gun holsters on his respective thighs before grabbing two smaller sized swords and placed them both in sheaths that were strapped around his lower back.

Nodding, he reached inside his utility belt and pulled out a standard issue grenade. He held it for a moment before he pulled the pin and tossed it in the case.

He turned around and walked down the stairs and into the building.

After five or so seconds, an explosion rocketed off the roof and that was more than enough shake the building some and get everyone who was currently inside's attention.

Ben walked down the stairs for a few more moments before he stopped and looked at the floor number. Nodding as he saw the number he was hoping to see, Ben walked down the hallway to the left and stopped as he found a large, wooden double door.

He looked at it for a second before he cracked his neck and exhaled heavily.

"Maximum effort." Ben mumbled before cocked back his foot and slammed it into the door, sending the wooden doors flying off the hinges.

The occupants looked startled by that and one screamed as a door sailed right in front of him before his head was cleaved right off by it. Blood splattered from his neck and his head hit the wall behind him and rolled over onto the ground.

"Tiān nǎ!" A well-dressed Chinese man yelled in surprise and fright as door collided with the behind them and he slowly looked at the horrified facial expression of the disembodied head on the ground.

"Qué demonios es esto?!" A middle-aged Mexican man with facial tattoos asked with a yell as he stood up. But he nearly shat his pants when he saw the man who had kicked in the door hold up a suppressed handgun that was aimed right at him.

"Shut the hell up." Ben ordered with narrowed eyes. "I didn't ask you to talk. Nor do I give a flying fuck at whatever you're saying. So frankly, save us the time and effort and close your damn mouth, before I put in cap in it."

The Mexican man looked frightened, but none the less furious at the threat, as he could probably die at the moment if he made any wrong decisions to further anger the man more than he had already. So, he did what any smart man would do in his situation and slowly sat back down on his fancy chair and shut up. But his glare never left his face.

"What are you here to do?" An older man asked, speaking in decent English with a heavy Russian accent.

Ben turned his attention to him, and the Mexican drug dealer worked up some nerve and slowly reached underneath the table to grab one of his hidden weapons. However, a small, soft sound of a gunshot ran through out the room, followed by a body hitting the ground.

Everyone looked over and the Mexican drug dealer, dead on the ground with a bleeding bullet hole coming from the other side of his throat. However, they were also able to see that wound started from the inside of his throat and pulled just passed through. Most of them robotically looked back to Ben who held his gun aimed at the previous spot the drug dealer occupied a few seconds ago.

"Are all you drug dealers and pimps that stupid?" Ben asked humorously before once again turning his attention over to the Russian that had just spoke a few seconds ago. "You asked what I was doing and I'm going to answer you."

They nodded their heads slowly and Ben grinned behind his mask.

"Well, I'm here to do… is to put you all in body bags." He stated without a pause, causing all the guards to point their weapons at him. "Is now a bad time?"

'Ak47's, M4's, Ak74 U's… they must be really well paid.' Ben thought internally, subtly eyeing the weapons that were being aimed at him.

"So," Ben started as he turned to his right and pointed at the drugs that were stacked up. "That's around… six – eight million dollars' worth of cocaine, followed by around that much in cash. And I'm assuming that you all are scum bag drug dealers."

Many of them frowned and clenched their fists at the clear, blatant disrespect pointed at them. But, one of the more confident ones stood up and glared seriously over at Ben.

"Walk away and your blood won't be splattered upon these walls." This one, spoke in a perfect American accent. He gave his threat, and, in his mind, it seemed far too generous.

Ben listened at his threat and pretended to think about the offer, but he smirked a small bit and laid his eyes upon the one who spoke to him.

"Is that right?" He asked as he crossed arms, his suppressed Berretta 92 tucked to his chest and underneath his arms. "Well, you see I have this distinct feeling that if I leave, you'll just sell these drugs and they'll go onto the streets. Then that would cause people to die and those drugs will tear apart lives. Something of which, I'm not particularly fond of."

Many of the drug lord's frowns got even larger and deeper before the American one spoke up once more.

"I will not say this one last time." He started before his face shifted into a scowl. "Leave…" He growled.

Ben just stared at him before he chuckled. He discreetly looked to his left and right and after that, he unfurled his arms and let his left hand that held the gun, hand limply to the side.

The drug lords and guards took that as good sign, but unfortunately, they never saw him snake his hand to his back and pulled out a smoke grenade. He pulled the pin with just his thumb while behind his back and grinned as he dropped it.

The occupants of the room, minus Ben, all looked at the smoke grenade in surprise and horror before deep, dark grey smoke started rapidly spreading throughout the room. Many of the drug lords tried reaching up and covering their noses just in case the smoke was made from something harmful to them.

The guards, however, began opening fire at Ben's last known location, unloading dozens upon dozens of rounds at a spot Ben hadn't even been in over five seconds.

Smirking, Ben leaped over and landing on the conference table and looked to his left. He aimed his suppressed firearm at the drug lord that his gun was aimed at had not yet seen Ben at all and he just continued coughing roughly and swinging his hand back and forth to try and sending the smoke away so that he could properly see and breathe.

However, he stopped when he opened his eyes a little further and slowly turned to his left and saw the edge of a pistol suppressor pointed to his head, in point blank range. He barely had time for his eyes to widen before a bullet penetrated his skull and killed him instantly.

Ben turned to his left and squeezed the trigger a few times, firing off a few shots in the back of another drug lord, filling his back up with lead and the man screamed mutely as he fell face first onto the ground. He then felt someone grasp onto his shoulder and Ben roughly grabbed onto that hand that was attached to his shoulder and swept his right leg underneath his attacker's own leg, causing him to lose balance and fall backwards.

Ben then slammed the handle part of his Beretta into the falling man's face, shattering his nose almost completely from the force of the blow and just as the man reflexively reached up and held his nose, Ben crouched down and held his weapon and pointed it towards his chest. He then fired off two shots in point blank range, the first shot hitting his right lung and the second skimming his heart, which caused him to almost die automatically. But he felt the full force of the shots and was going to hang onto life for another few minutes before he bled out and his lungs filled up with his own blood and promptly died of either suffocation, or blood loose.

Probably both, if Ben had a say in it.

Ben moved his head to the side as another man tried slamming his first into the green-eyed man's face. However, Ben swiveled his head out of the way and bent down before unloading a few more shots while crouched into the man's chest. One of those bullets slammed directly in the center of his heart and one even hit the side of his throat, killing him within a few moments.

Rolling onto the ground, he squeezed the trigger once, guiding a bullet between the eyes to another drug lord as he saw him pull a gun of his own. However, Ben grunted as automatic gun fire rippled through the air and lit up the room and he leaped over to the side searched through the smoke for where the gun fire was precisely originating from.

He managed to find where the guard was firing from and estimated where his kill spots would be and pulled the trigger twice, shooting two bullets and the first one missed, but the other one slammed into the guard's throat, sending him plummeting down onto the ground, all while in frenzy as he tried to stop the bleeding with his hands.

Ben then looked at three scurrying drug dealers and aimed his handgun at the first one and fired. A silenced shot rang through the air and a bullet pierced through the target's skull and slammed into his brain, killing him instantly. Ben moved his hand slightly to the right and fired another shot and this time, he aimed directly for stomach.

Finally, he looked at the last remaining dealer and pulled his trigger. He fired off his last remaining bullet in the mag and shot in directly in his head.

Ben frowned slightly as he realized that he was out of ammo for his Berretta. So, he pulled out his Remington R4 and looked at the remaining guards that were in the room, which there around a dozen more.

He then began unloading rounds quickly and with precise precision, only wasting one or two rounds for each armed guard.

Within five seconds, they were laying on the ground, dead.

He stood completely still and took a deep breath of air, calming his self. However, his eyes widened slightly when he heard loud stomping, which was followed up by loud, automatic gunfire.

Ben instinctively rolled under the table and braced his head from the incoming gunfire. Quickly, Ben reached behind him and grabbed one of his swords from their sheath and stabbed it into the table before slicing upwards. He then broke the edge of the off and lifted the large part of the wooden furniture and flipped it, making a barricade to at least somewhat shield himself from the gunfire.

He kept sitting there, completely quiet and calm and once he heard the gunfire trail off, he reached underneath his large coat and put his Remington R4 back and pulled his SIG MPX out before standing up.

He aimed down sights and tap fired ahead, only shooting two to three bullets per tap, and with precise accuracy, he killed four guards with only twelve bullets. However, once another group of armed guards came rushing into the doorway, he ducked back to the ground and they started rapid firing through the table.

Ben grunted in pain as his left arm was shot but a stray bullet that pierced through the table. He looked at it through his clothing and saw a two-way bullet hole and nodded when he assessed that bullet went all the way through.

Smirking slightly, Ben rolled to his right and peeked through the edge of the flipped table and unloaded the rest of his clip into the group of clueless guards, shooting them dead.

They all flopped to the ground and bullet shells hit the ground and the barrel to his SIG MPX slightly smoked a transparent vapor. Slowly, Ben stood up and unloaded his empty clip and reached inside his coat and pulled out a full clip. Ben quickly loaded up the clip and pulled back the charging handle before releasing it.

Ben walked over to the suitcases full of drugs and money and gathered them all in one pile. Once he finished within a few minutes, he reached inside his utility belt and pulled out a small, flat, spherical device with two small green buttons on it.

He looked at it for a small second before he lightly dropped it onto the grouped-up money and drugs before walking away from the pile that at the far corner of the building, at least a couple of meters away from any glass.

He tucked the butt of the gun as close to his body as possible, making sure the weapon was as close to his person before he rounded a corner. He slowly peeked the left and saw few more armed guards and they the sliver of his head peek out and immediately opened fire. Ben cursed slightly and hurriedly pulled his head back in, narrowly evading dozens of bullets.

The guards all stopped firing after each unloaded a dozen or so bullets each at the wall, at which Ben was hiding behind.

'Their uniforms… those are no mere thugs.' Ben thought as he crouched somewhat and peeked his head over the edge of the corner. What he saw in a split second confirmed suspicions, as they were all using military grade weapons, good looking Kevlar gear and everything.

Seeing that the scales were tipped in their favor, Ben pulled out a mini flashbang from his utility belt and pulled the pin.

He peeked over the corner one last time before he chucked the flashbang with all his might and flew through the air at surprising speeds. It then slammed against the wall, fifteen meters behind him and right beside the squad of armed men.

They looked at the flashbang before they tried ducking out of there to shield themselves as they recognized the projectile immediately. But they were a bit too late, as a quick, white blinding flash of light appeared, and they all were all disorientated from the hellish light. Every single one of them saw blue and black stars and they tried recovering as quick as possible.

Ben heard it go off and he rolled into the hallway and opened fire onto them. The men tried to dodge by blindingly stumbling down the stairs, but Ben had at least clipped them all with a gunshot or two and they fell down around five stories before stopping.

So, it was safe to say that they were dealt with. Permanently, if he had hoped.

Even so, Ben wasn't one to take chances, so he jogged down the hallway and started going down the stairs.

Once he made it down the stairwell, he took immediate precaution, aimed down sights and checked his corners evenly. However, he saw the armed men groaning and coughing beside him. Every single one of them were bleeding from at least somewhere and most of them were doing so through their mouths as well.

Not taking any chances, Ben aimed his weapon and fired a few quick shots off, nailing each and every one of them with a piece of lead into their heads.

Ben then traversed out of the building and mutely grabbed what looked like a small grey detonator with a red button as he walked outside of the abandoned building.

Without thinking twice, he pressed the button and immediately, a small sized explosion of flames rocketed from the spherical device that Ben had set down a few moments before.

The fire burned furiously from inside the room, ruthlessly burning all the cash and drugs and the latter only accelerated the process and promptly caused an explosion, shattering the windows.

Ben walked over towards a black pained van and opened the unlocked door and hopped inside. Reaching over with a lean, he opened the front seat compartment and opened it. He then saw a pair of car keys and grabbed them before closing it up.

Once he sat straight, he pushed the key in the ignition and turned it. Immediately, the engine roared to life and the lights kicked on, allowing him to see freely in the van.

Not even bothering to put on his seatbelt, or to turn on his headlights, he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, not once looking back. Even as the entire roof was suddenly cloaked in burning orange-red flames.

ZZZ

2 Hours Later

Ben 10 HQ

Tires lightly screeched as Ben pulled into a garage that was already opened. Once he hit the breaks and stopped the van, the retractable door to the garage closed up.

Ben opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. The second he stepped out, he closed the door backup and looked around.

With a crack of his neck, Ben snapped his finger once and the lights popped on, allowing him to see around him better. With that, he walked up the steps to a doorway before reaching forward with his left hand. He placed the palm of his hand on a black pad of tech and a blue laser-like line of light passed up and down once before it glowed green.

The door clicked open and Ben removed his hand from the pad. He then reached up and pushed the door open, so he walked into the room. Which wasn't much of a room, more a small, two-foot by four-foot metal room. He walked inside and turned around. Once he did that, he touched a button that was on a number-pad on the side of the door.

Once he did so, the room started creaking before he was taken upwards a few dozen floor levels. However, once he got a particular level, it stopped, and he was allowed to walk ahead safely and found himself in his own personal Weapon Armory.

The Weapon Armory was a large, soundproofed room. It had purely grey walls, four rectangular lights that lit up the room brightly. A little brightly, Ben mused mentally.

There was a very long wall that had a weapon bracket with numerous firearms attached to it. The weapons there ranged from the odd Glock handgun, to a M249 LMG.

In the center of the room, was a large, eight-foot long, four-foot wide table that was completely cleared, save for the black cloth that covered the entire platform of the table.

Ben walked over towards the table and grabbed his two handguns and placed them onto the table neatly. He then shuffled to his right somewhat and reached inside his coat. Ben pulled out his primary firearms and placed them down neatly as well. He then unequipped his two sheaths that had his swords connected and put them down onto the table right above his automatic firearms.

Once he finished with that, he walked over to another side of the wall and opened a metal box that was nailed into it. He looked inside for a long second before pulling out small gauze, some threat and a sterilized needle. Nodding as he closed up the box with the items in mention in his grasp, he walked over to a chair and placed them down onto a small black table with a lamp on it.

Ben raised his hands slightly and began undressing his torso. However, he grunted somewhat in pain as he pulled of his clothes, leaving his chest bare, showing his large and extremely well-defined muscles. However, he had at least a dozen notable scars that littered his entire torso and a hole in his bicep that looked like it was previously/still bleeding profusely.

He cracked his neck a couple times and released a sigh through his nose. "Maximum effort." He mumbled as he grabbed the needle and thread.

Ben turned to his right and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Without thinking twice, he poured himself a glass before downing it one go. However, once he did that, he grabbed the large liquor bottle and dumped an ounce of it onto his gunshot wound, earning a small exhale of pain from through his nose. But he remained quiet and toughed it out, knowing he had handled far worse injuries in the past two years. Never mind the past ten.

After doing so, he started sewing up his wound with the needle and thread. Only to stop after the few run-abouts as he heard the elevator come up again.

Ben swallowed drily as he saw Gwendolyn staring at him, her arms crossed underneath her bust, unknowingly make jut out a little further.

"Really?" She asked seriously. At Ben's blank look, she sighed longley. "Listen Ben… I'm not asking you to call out for help-," Gwendolyn was interrupted by Ben's long sigh. With a raised eyebrow, she looked at him. "Anything to say?"

Ben smiled a small bit, but without any humor. Merely satisfaction. "Mission complete. Each drug dealer dead. The money and dope have been dealt with." He reported shortly, leaving nothing out.

"How about the hole in your arm?" Gwendolyn asked with a frustration. "Look Ben, I agree with what you do. I really do! I just wished you tell me when you needed help."

Ben nodded, "Trust me, I will." He smiled. "You'll be the first one I ask for help if I need help. But this isn't it."

"Ben you were shot!" She protested and Ben exhaled heavily through his nose before stood up, drawing her attention to his torso, which she had never seen before. Or at least, she hadn't in years.

Gwendolyn swallowed drily, suddenly finding her throat dry as a desert.

"I've taken care of myself well in the past years." Ben stated with a forcefully calm voice and expression as she stared her down through her distracted eyes. "I don't need help for a simple gunshot."

With his peace said, Ben sat down and stared at the whiskey bottle before pouring himself another glass.

Gwendolyn shook her head, trying to free her mind from the very distracting, yet admittedly dirty thoughts that were running through her mind a mile a minute and managed to think about the task at hand, rather then how big his pecs were, how drool-worthy his abs were and how shockingly sexy his scars were.

"Y-you aren't 21." Gwendolyn felt the need to point out and Ben smiled amusedly.

"Please." He scoffed playfully. "Breaking the legal drinking law by a few weeks is at the bottom of a very long list of worries that I have." His eyes shimmered with amusement and she continued staring at him with a frown.

Ben stared her down for a few minutes before he sighed. "You aren't going to leave unless I let you stitch me up. Are you?"

Gwendolyn let a small smirk of triumph grace her rosy lips as she walked over towards him with an unintentional sway of her hips. Something Ben noticed and kept his gaze on until she was within a foot from him and she looked down upon him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She breathed as she took the needle and thread into her grasp as she eyed his gunshot wound. However, she looked at it in surprise and looked down at Ben once again.

"Hey, call me crazy, but didn't realize a simple 5.56 could pierce skin that well." She mumbled and Ben nodded in agreement.

"No, you aren't crazy." He informed her. "My first order of business after I get this thing tied up, was to call around to see if I could replicate the wound and see what type of ammo those were."

Gwendolyn just shook her head in an amazement as she picked up where Ben had left off. However, she eyed him for a second as he downed another glass of alcohol.

"Hey." Gwendolyn started, earning his attention as she looped through his skin for the first time with the needle. "I was wondering… if you could – I don't know… train me?" She requested uncertainly.

Ben raised an eyebrow before he nodded along while thinking about her surprisingly request. "Sure… I don't see why I can't show you a few things." He smiled thinly and Gwendolyn smiled as well while doing a mental cheer in her head.

"Be down in the public training area tomorrow at 5 A.M." Ben instructed as she finished stitching his arm wound up. With that, Gwendolyn bit off the thread and let Ben go. But she stared at Ben as he poured himself another glass of whiskey.

She watched as he downed it all and turned his gaze onto her. But before she could say anything, Ben smiled a bit and nodded in appreciation.

"Thanks for doing this for me… even if I didn't ask for it." Ben stated before adding the last part with a pointed finger aimed right at her. Something of which she giggled at.

"Go." Gwendolyn ordered as she playfully slapped his other arm. "Go take a shower. You smell like sweat and blood."

Ben smirked slightly when heard that and leaned upwards and Gwendolyn's breath got caught in her throat as she saw him deviously smirking up at her. They were close enough to feel each other's breaths and the heat they produced.

"Why don't you join me?"

Gwendolyn's eyes widened in shock, her breath hitching even further. And she must've have been just staring at him continuously for a while, because once she blinked, she heard Ben's distant laughter as he rode up the elevator.

'Jerk… say something like that…' Gwendolyn blushed as she just stood there, recollecting her thoughts.

However, she stayed there for a few moments before she too went down the elevator to her room. Mainly to get some sleep, as it was late, and she was pretty damn tiered. Plus, she had to be up early, and tomorrow was a big day for her.

ZZZ

Next Day

5 O'clock A.M

Bright lights turned on as a large door opened up mechanically.

Ben walked in with Gwendolyn in tow, both wearing somewhat normal outfits… well, normal for them.

Ben was wearing his normal monochrome outfit, but without his trench coat and without his sword strapped to his back.

Gwendolyn was wearing a simple black and purple colored outfit.

She and Ben walked across from each other and stood four feet from another. They stared at each other's green eyes.

"Now remember, you fight me like I am your enemy." Ben started seriously and Gwendolyn said nothing and just stared back with a dire expression on her face. "Because I won't give you the same curtsey."

Gwendolyn, this time nodded.

"No magic, no transformations. Just pure unarmed combat. Nothing but our brute strength, training and instinct." Ben stated before he took a half a step back and circled her. Gwendolyn's eyes never left his form, and she especially looked at his lethal points, namely his hands and legs.

The fight was started off Gwendolyn leaping back the second his footing shifted irregularly for even the slightest second.

Ben saw her do so and just watched her leap back a few meters. His green eyes scanned her mannerisms and how much she bent her legs when she took off the ground and how long it took for her sail through the air. He noticed that she blinked when the air filtered around her head as she made her move and saw that she wasn't trained not to.

Narrowing his gaze, he saw that she shifted into a classic judo stance with her right foot pointed to the side and her left one lifted around eight inches off the ground. She then positioned her right arm outwards, slightly bent and left arm pulled back and her elbow slightly cocked into her body.

Ben just continued standing straight up, not once breaking his gaze with her.

And like that, ten minutes went by before Gwendolyn allowed a frown to grace her features. "If you won't make the first move, I will!" She declared boldly before she ran forward at subsonic speeds.

Ben was easily able to react to her rather straight forward attack and merely tilted his head to the side before weaving back somewhat as he dodged a punch from here and a spinning heel kick. He raised his right arm and blocked a two-kick combo and Ben rolled to the right, allowing Gwendolyn's heel to clash to the cement ground due to a failed axe kick.

She showed no signs of her failed attack hurting and merely pressed on and launched a basic front kick, which was followed by a nicely executed butterfly kick.

All of which, Ben either evaded or parried with absolute precision and perfect timing. Ben smacked Gwendolyn's hand away as she tried karate chopping him to the side of his throat and he landed a quick palm thrust right in the center of her upper stomach.

Gwendolyn gasped slightly in pain as the wind was forcibly knocked from her lungs and she stumbled backwards somewhat. However, she bared the and ignored it as she charged forward with superhuman speed and threw a few more attacks at higher speed and more ferocity.

Ben had to put in some more effort to keep up that level of speed, but he was able to do so as he deflected a quick and basic, one-two boxing combo before ducked under a sloppy punch and tucked his shoulder into her midsection.

Discreetly, he lightly tapped her hamstring on her right leg with precision. He grunted a small bit when he felt her elbow collide with back, right over his right shoulder blade.

Gwendolyn was going to go for another, but her attack met nothing but air as Ben rolled out of the way at the last millisecond. Her head snapped to the side in which he rolled to and she forced to tilt her head to the side as Ben's heel came flying at her at unexpected, supersonic speeds.

Ben was impressed. He didn't really expect her to really be able react to supersonic combat speed, but she did, and it seemed like she honed her reflexes. Even without the use of magic.

'But let's see how she performs constantly.' He thought seriously before he began fighting at a more serious tempo.

He threw a few fast-paced jabs, which were all evaded narrowly, before he stepped forward and landed an elbow square in her chin, causing her head to snap back. Ben didn't let up as he as punched her stomach with force that prompted her to eject a glob of blood from her mouth. However, she wasn't able fully spit it all out as Ben slid behind her and roughly yanked the back of her head downwards and sent her flying backwards.

She would have been sent into the wall, had Ben not heel kicked her to the ground, creating small, barely noticeable spiderweb cracks to spread throughout the landing point around her back.

Gwendolyn groaned painfully as she rolled over after a few seconds. She opened her eyes and her vision was blurry for a second before throbbing pain earned her attention and she looked downwards as line of blood dribbled down onto the cement ground.

Groaning, she stood up and looked over at Ben with clear respect in her gaze. "How are you so fast?" She couldn't help but ask.

Ben looked at her long and hard before releasing a small chuckle. "I couldn't always stay as an alien." He started, earning her full attention. "Sometimes the Omnitrix would be out of commission and sometimes I would decide not to use it. You know, for training."

Gwendolyn nodded slowly, understanding what he said spoke up once more as she wiped some of the blood from her face with her sleeves. "Why though? You could have died."

Ben shrugged, "I was confident. I was always learning. I treated everything like it was a training exercise, knowing that another fight would only serve to better me in my ability to fight. I loved it… the exhilaration, the high stakes, the adrenaline – the mere realization at the end of every close fight, that I could have died. It made it THAT much more exciting and addicting."

Gwendolyn stared at him, completely stunned as he finished what he was saying.

"I learned most from experience. I learned from mistakes and I relied on that." Ben stated before going quiet for a few seconds. He then chuckled a small amount. "I knew that after every fight, I would come out stronger, faster… more intelligent and that made me all the more eager for my next fight."

With that, Ben went on the offensive, forcing Gwendolyn to leap back, or so she would have if she wasn't suddenly forced to her knees as she gasped in pain. Her eyes snapped closed and veins along her throat popped up, showing the straining she was putting on her head for whatever reason.

"W-What…. What did you do?" Gwendolyn asked, panting from the raw, unadulterated pain that rippled across her stomach and her right leg. However, she had a brief flashback to when Ben slammed his hand into her stomach and underneath her right thigh.

"I hit two of your pressure points. Some of the more… painful ones. But… certainly not as deadly as you feel it as." Ben explained. "They're merely used to stun and cause great pain to the enemy." He further explained.

"C-Can… can you teach me that?" Gwendolyn asked after a few seconds.

Ben considered the question before he shook his head, earning a look of disappointment, but one of understanding as well.

"That fighting style won't work for you." Ben started, completely uncaring her emotional look. "I'll train you, yes. But your current fighting style is atrocious."

Gwendolyn wanted to be offended, but she honestly could blame him for saying such a thing, as he was right. He beat her with ease, and she had a feeling that he wasn't even trying.

"Your stance… the one you opened the fight with, it was a judo stance." Ben started and she listened carefully, wanting to memorize everything he said. "Your fighting shows me that you rely heavily on kicks. So, you're probably more advanced in Kick Boxing then anything. And, if I remember correctly, you were already practicing karate before I went into the Null Void. So, you have one fighting designed to fight completely on the ground and to disable other combatants… you have another that deals with quick, light strikes and other that deals with powerful, yet quick and flexible attacks with your feet and legs." He summarized with a thoughtful look.

He continued staring off into space for a couple of minutes before he grinned. "I think I know just what teach you."

Gwendolyn smiled and leaned forward. "And that is?"

"Simple: We'll start out with some Jujutsu and Muay Thai. We'll build around those two, as those will give you edge to take down armed enemies and they allow for quick and efficient take downs. Then, you can build around them with some Tae Kwon Do, Kung Fu, karate and a little Ninjutsu." Ben explained after a few seconds, leaving a bewildered Gwendolyn as she thought about the possibilities of a combination of all those arts.

"Of course, as you learn them, it'll be up to you to craft your own fighting style. And that will only come out of experience as you learn which moves you like best and which ones feel fluid, right and instinctual. It won't happen immediately, but if you give it time and dedicate yourself, you'll learn and master it." Ben stated with a smile. "That's why I'll be having you fight me every day for two hours straight; no breaks, no interruptions. Just straight combat."

"Sounds good." Gwendolyn nodded with a smile and a determined gaze.

Ben nodded, satisfied with her response. He smiled thinly and walked up to her and lightly slapped her on her arm. "Good. I'll see you then."

With that, Ben broke his gaze with her and made his way towards the large silver door. Once he entered a three-foot radius, it opened up robotically and allowed him into the small metal elevator.

He then walked inside and tapped the number of the floor he wanted to go at, and the door closed up. Once it closed, the rustic industrial elevator creaked slightly and shook before it went downwards, taking him to the requested floor.

Within a few seconds, his elevator stopped, and his own personal Weapon Armory came into view as the door slid open, allowing him entry. Something of which, he allowed and went inside.

Ben made his way through the large room and walked over towards the large table. Looking at it, he looked around before he clapping his hands.

"C'mon, daddy's home." Ben stated in an impatient tone as he clapped.

After a full second, a light, barely audible beep sounded a blue hue appeared before it transformed into a scan and went over every object in the room, scanning it. Multiple small notes appeared right next to everything that was scanned, which was followed up by some pictures and such.

However, a full scan of everything in the room, a voice carried through the room, as if the it was the rom itself. It sounded almost human, but there was a slight robotic tint to it, that someone would only hear unless they heard it more than once.

"Evening sir. Shall I recommence standard weapon protocols?" The voice sounded out with a distinct British accent.

This was an AI that Ben had unknowingly constructed when he upgraded the entire HQ as Upgrade. Apparently, synching a Galvanic Mechamorph's very being with technology, could have caused… unexpected outcomes.

Ben still didn't know if the AI was sentient our not. But he decided to keep him or it around, as he was a fantastic help with everything. And weirdly enough, it had a sense of humor that seemed to lighten Ben up when he needed it.

It… helped. Especially since he was trying to adjust to the world again. And for that reason alone, Ben decided to let the AI stay. The name of it that Ben had given it, was Automated Tray Label Assignment System. Or, Atlas for short.

"Yeah, you do that." Ben stated as he opened his palm and pointed outwards. Once he did that, a light blue screen appeared, which was in the shape of an eight-pointed gear/star, strangely enough.

"Have you scanned the bullet residue from my wound?" Ben asked as he moved his right hand upwards and gestured to himself, bring another blue screen to life. Only this one was perfectly rectangular and was around four feet long and three feet tall.

It had numerous writing that surrounded and underlined a graph.

"Indeed, sir. It would seem that bullet that you were shot with, was made with some sort of Potassium and Rubidium." Atlas explained before continuing. "Sir, you weren't shot with a bullet… you were shot by a bomb."

Ben pursed his lips, impressed. "Not bad. The human body is comprised of 60% of water and both Potassium and Rubidium react negatively towards water and oxygen, something the body relies heavily on." However, he stopped talking and crossed his arms. "Who ever made the bullets, knew they could cause a hell of lot more damage then a simple gunshot wound. I mean, no way you're pulling one of those out of your gut."

"It definitely exploded… just not nearly as big as I would have expected." Ben mused quietly after a few seconds of consideration, but Atlas was able to hear him easily enough. "But why not add more? It could have easily finished the job if there was even a sixteenth of an ounce more in that bullet."

"Sir," Atlas' voice carried out, earning his attention. "Maybe it wasn't meant to blow you apart completely and go for the kill that way. Only blowing apart-,"

Ben interrupted him as he snapped his fingers. "The Organs." He finished for him and self-sure nod. "Of course. Those bullets are meant cause extreme internal damage. I mean, say one of these were to hit… my liver." Ben stated before he created a picture of a human liver from the blue transparent tech screens with a simple hand gesture.

He then made an explosion signal with his hand and a giant hole appeared in the picture of the liver, showing that approximately thirty percent of the liver gone completely.

"I'd be toast." Ben nodded. "I don't know what would kill me first." He started before held up hand and all his fingers folded back, besides one.

"The initial damage." Ben continued before raising his second finger beside that one.

"The internal bleeding a few minutes after." He mused thoughtfully before nodding.

"Or the long-term damage, say I do survive long enough to get surgery, and then it kills me a few years later." Ben nodded, clearly impressed.

"I've seen bullets made to pierce Kevlar. I've seen bullets able to kill Superman. I've even made extremely light weight and balanced titanium rounds." Ben shook his head.

"But I've never seen bullets comprised of Potassium and Rubidium." Ben finished with a sigh as he rubbed his hand across his slicked back hair.

'That's something to think about.'

ZZZ

So, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I hoped it shed some light on how Ben's character is developing through time.

At the moment, it's been around eight or so months since Ben arrived back on Earth from the Null Void.

I don't really have anything else to really say, beside have a nice day or night, depending on when you're all reading this.

Tootles!