The next day, Humdinger traveled into town. Trying to traverse Adventure Bay like a normal human being after such an expansive history of attacking it was not an easy ordeal. Humdinger never realized the hardest task of his entire life would simply be walking down the sidewalk. People were staring, and a lot of them, not their fault anyway. It wasn't like he didn't just spend an embarrassingly long time trying to take over the place. But where was the fun in taking over if there wasn't anything to challenge him? The PAW Patrol was sick, infected by a chemical he didn't know the meaning of. There was no need to grab some big machine or make a grand entrance, he just needed to get to the library. He didn't mind their judging stares anyway, he had no time to.

Walking up the stone steps of the library, and nervously stepping aside to let a woman pass, he slipped his way in. How did normal people do this anyway? He gulped down his anxiety, approaching the front desk where an old, wrinkled librarian was writing away on some papers. "Ehm," he cleared his throat. "Hello."

The lady didn't look for a moment. "Ah, hello dear, how can I-" she suddenly glanced up, realizing whom she was speaking to. A sharp recoil hit her, and the employee quickly grabbed a rolled magazine and leapt into action. "Mayor Humdinger!"

"Look, I don't want any trouble, I just-" He flinched as a magazine jabbed between his eyes.

"Now you listen here you little scoundrel!" The lady hissed, ferociously handling her weapon. "This is my library, my books! This is no place for your little antics, you hear me!?"

"No, no!" Humdinger said desperately, holding up his hands if he was at gunpoint. "That's not it at all, I just need-"

"There ain't no magic meteor here!" The lady barked, holding the magazine like a sword and pressing her advantage. "There ain't no weather machines, no giant robots, and there's certainly no special books that lead to treasure or whatnot! There's nothing here for you, begone!"

The mayor cried out, fearing the vicious librarian. "I just need some information!"

"About what? There ain't nothin' here for you!"

"Well, just one thing." Humdinger removed his hat, holding it to his chest. "I want to learn about... something chemistry wise."

"What kinda evil potion you makin'!?"

"Have you ever heard about solimane gas?"

"What?" The woman blinked. "What's that, never heard of it."

"It's some kind of gas, that's all I know." The mayor sighed. "I'd... like to learn about it, try and find out what it does. Some... people I know are sick from it." He swapped his words at the last second. "I'd like to know how to help them."

The elderly lady let out a scoff. "Hmph. Hard to believe some bimbo like you has loved ones." She put her hands on her hips, looking him up and down. "I doubt I have a book on exactly that, but you can use the library computer." Before he could say anything, she snapped her magazine right to his nose, holding it threateningly close. "But oohh... God help me, sonny boy. If I even smell that you're up to funny business I'll throw you out myself!"

"Of course, ma'am!" Squeaked the horrified man. "You won't... hear a word from me!" He gave a nervous smile, praying she would back down.

Sharply turning, the lady scoffed again and returned to her desk, briefly glancing up at him again before resuming her work. Desperate to not attract attention, Humdinger crept across the blue carpet, tiptoeing as softly as he could across the room. Quiet as possible, he told himself, quiet as possible, no one sees me, no one has to see me, in and out.

Five people were staring at him.

Strafing to an idle, blocky computer, he gently grabbed the edges of the chair and pulled it out as slowly and quietly as he could. Sitting down in his seat, he got comfortable and reached out to the keyboard. "Okay... let's see." He pulled up a public-approved browser, typing into the search engine. Solimane gas, he wrote. Surely if anything had answers, it would be the internet.

The first link to pull up was an article that seemed promising. "A study on..." He squinted, trying to read the title. "Sleep deprivation?" He spent a few hours reading through dozens of articles, momentarily getting distracted by clickbait ads along the side. The little information he found on the gas didn't say too much, but the few words it gave sent a pit of dread into his stomach. "Solimane, also known as... waking mist?" He blinked, struggling to understand the words. He skipped ahead in the page a little. "Exposure causes inability to sleep, duration depending on... frequency of...?" His mind blanked, reading over a word he couldn't pronounce. All it did was make them unable to sleep? That didn't seem so bad, Humdinger thought, it was just sleep, not like they were going without food or anything.

"So everything's fine." He sighed with relief. "I'm sure the pups will be sleeping for days when they finally get out of there." Did that room actually have a key? It should have, all of his traps and contraptions had some way of disarming them, so obviously this room should have some way of opening it.

But he didn't build it.

He leaned back in his chair a little, pondering over the PAW Patrol's trap. They could get out... but could they? Was the key actually under a tile, or had he incorrectly remembered something? "No, they're fine." He muttered. "The key is under the..." his voice faded out. "It's... under the... wait." He narrowed his eyes, putting his hand to his chin. "Was it the tiles? Or was it the wall panels? Were there wall panels at all? I put a key in there, right? I'm sure I did..." Standing up from the table, he fixed his coat with an uncertain frown. He left the library in silence, making sure to politely tip his hat to the old librarian.

He returned to the old facility sometime later, appearing through the doors where the cats were waiting for him. They meowed and pawed at his pant legs, but he didn't pet a single one of them. He walked right through their pile, almost kicking one by accident, his mind filled with distracting information he couldn't fit together. Turning the corner in the hallway, the locked gas chamber entered his view. Humdinger gulped, approaching the sealed room with caution. "Uhm... pups? He called out nervously.

The man froze in front of the window, fearing what he'd see if he looked through. "Pups?" He repeated, his voice on edge. His feet seemed stuck to the floor, his body shaking as he debated calling out again. He couldn't hear a word from the microphones inside, the dogs had fallen completely silent. Calling forward all his willpower, Humdinger shakily came to the window, peering through it.

A shot of relief hit him quickly, as he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Chase was lying on his stomach, his fur immensely unkempt and sticking out in several places. His ears and tail were flattened tightly, his eyes sunken yet wide with fixated vision. He seemed to be staring at something outside of the window's vision, his lips and ears twitching every few seconds. His paws were twitching as well, flexing his claws over and over again until they made streaks on the ground. His mouth moved slightly as if he was speaking, yet nothing was audible. A few feet away was Marshall, standing up and staring into the wall. Humdinger couldn't see his face, but the Dalmatian was noticeably shaking, quite violently too.

"Marshall, you cold?" He called through the window. "Want me to see if there's a heater?"

No response, but Rocky jumped up at the voice as if he had been electrocuted, muttering incomprehensible words and darting around his vision frantically. He was terrified to even move, the mix breathing at an abnormally quick frequency while pacing in circles. Skye and Rubble were nowhere to be seen, likely because they were sitting somewhere out of the window's view.

"Good news, pups." Humdinger said with a smile. "Solimane is just waking gas, or something like that. It just keeps you awake, so you aren't poisoned or anything." The frenzied state of the dogs was unnerving him slightly. "You guys look a little... uncomfortable, but I assure you!" He spoke reassuringly. "Even though its constantly blowing in there, there's no poison in that gas, you'll be okay." He watched them in silence for a while. "You uh... you're still looking for the key right? There's a search to be had!"

Not a single dog answered back.

The mayor was about to say something else when an odd detail caught his eye. He could barely see it due to the positioning of the window, but a small puddle of wet, sickening brown was gradually leaking to the center of the room. Blinking at the substance, a disgusted expression twisted his face. "Are you... are you guys going to the bathroom in that corner?" He said, aghast at the accumulated feces. "Ugh, it must all be piling up. Now you guys really need to get out of there." He made a mental note to douse the room in gasoline once they escaped, and Humdinger had to turn away from the gross scene to keep himself from gagging.

Leaving the window, he looked down at his cats, who were awaiting their pampering. A small grin peeled across his face, reaching down to pick up the spotted one. "Sorry Spotsy," he said with a sigh. "Maybe I should teach them to use litterboxes, eh? Things are kinda overwhelming right now, but it'll be okay. Why don't we all go back into town, hit up a cat cafe, eh?"

The cats blinked at him.

"Come on, girls!" Humdinger lightened up his mood, collecting his pets in his arms. "Good coffee and scones, here we come!" He left the facility for the rest of the day, leaving the PAW Patrol to yet another sleepless night.