Next 3: The Big Apple and the Billionaire

Ben and Rook emerged from the 42nd Street–PABT subway station out onto the streets of New York. Ben seemed rather nonplussed and had a bit of a skip in his step, but Rook looked somewhat disturbed.
"...Ben?" Rook looked over at him. "Am I mistaken, or did we just see a group of dog-sized rats eat a homeless man alive?" 
"Obviously not, Rook." Ben tsked. "Rats are scavengers that usually don't attack people unless they're out of options. The state of the guy makes it pretty obvious he died at least twenty-four hours ago."
"Should we...do something about it?"
"Nah." Ben waved him off. "99% chance it got reported a while ago and the police just haven't gotten around to it yet."
"That is highly concerning." Rook's brow furrowed.
"That's the NYC subway system, baby!" Ben whipped around to face Rook and pointed at him with finger guns. "Just be glad we were in Salt Lake when the No Pants Subway Ride happened."
"...The what?"
"The No Pants Subway Ride." Ben reiterated. "It's an annual event where people ride the subway without their pants on. Started in New York in 2002 and now it's a global phenomenon."
"You are making all of this up, correct?" Rook's expression conveyed an intense dose of skepticism.
"No, really, I'm dead serious." Ben shook his head. "Might be worth a Google."
"Every time I think I fully understand humans, I learn something new and baffling." Rook sighed. "And you stated that this is an annual event?"
"Yep!" Ben replied. "Humans are just huge fans of being goofy sometimes, Rook; heck, I don't think anything short of a plague could stop people from participating."
"There was a small outbreak of a coronavirus with plague potential in China last year." Rook noted. "Were it not for the introduction of alien medical technology, it likely would have spread globally."
"Yeah, well, it didn't get a chance to spread, so who cares?" Ben shrugged.
"I do not think you understand the gravity of the situation." Rook said. "Humans have yet to perfect safety measures regarding travel and trade. The coronavirus was caught in time to prevent its spread, but if even one thing went wrong, it could easily have killed millions on the global stage. Does that not concern you in the slightest?"
"Rook, old buddy, old pal," Ben placed a hand on Rook's shoulder with a chuckle. "If I was concerned about everything I should be concerned about, I would die in approximately the next 20 seconds thanks to a stress-induced heart attack. Let's just try and focus on the mission right now, okay?"
"I never thought I would hear that coming from you of all people." Rook grinned.
"Hey, you should know by now that I'm full of surprises, Rook." Ben waved his hands around in a semi-circle. "Full of surprises."
----
"Surprise!"
After taking the short three-minute walk from the subway station to the massive Jacob Javits Convention Center, Ben and Rook had made their way to the hall where Joshua Messias, the latest suspect in their investigation, was hosting a massive tech showcase for his company. The only thing left standing in their way was a bouncer outside the double doors leading into the room.
"Ben Tennyson, celebrity extraordinaire, you've probably heard of me." Ben followed up his initial exclamation with a sly look. "I'm here for the tech...thingy...whatever."
"Ticket." The bouncer replied without even looking at him.
"What?"
"All celebrity guests for this event were sent tickets beforehand." The bouncer explained. "If you don't have one, you're not getting in."
"Oh, come on, man, seriously?" Ben groaned, then muttered under his breath, "Guess I'll have to sneak in as Ghostfreak..."
"What was that?" The bounced raised an eyebrow.
"I said I'm gonna sneak in." Ben replied at a normal volume.
"That will not be necessary." Rook approached the bouncer and grabbed two laminated event tickets from one of his belt's satchels. "I assume these should do."
The bouncer took a moment to examine the tickets. Upon confirming that they were in fact real, he simply stepped aside and gestured Ben and Rook into the room.
"Wait, you had tickets the whole time?!" Ben asked as they passed through the doorframe.
"No, only for the past two minutes." Rook shook his head. "I looked into the event before we left Salt Lake and put in a request for tickets from our base's procurement services. I was unsure they would be able to acquire any, but they teleported a pair into my base-linked belt pouch just in time."
"Wait, we have procurement services?" Ben blinked as the two of them made their way to their seats. "How the heck did they get their hands on those tickets?"
"We are encouraged not to ask questions regarding the methodology employed by procurement services." Rook replied as the two of them sat down and settle in.
"Ooh, sketchy." Ben raised his eyebrows. "I like it."
Not too long after they sat down, the doors to the presentation hall closed and the lights above the audience grew dim, making the bright glow peeking out from behind the curtains onstage all the more obvious. There was a short crackle from the speakers as the voice of an unseen man began being broadcast throughout the room.
"We live in dark times, ladies and gentlemen." The voice emerging from the speakers was smooth, slow and confident, like a preacher giving a quiet sermon. To Ben's ears, it had the hiss of a hidden snake. "Humanity is at greater risk than ever before."
Ben had no external reaction to these words, but his wandering mind immediately snapped to attention. After all these years of dealing with people like Will Harangue, he knew a dog whistle when he heard one.
"Every day, more and more alien beings are shuttled to our planet; beings with far greater power than the average man. If we are not vigilant, they will, in time, replace us."
Rook looked over at Ben, who remained stone-faced as the speech continued.
"Some people have already given in to the idea of alien domination, and give up their humanity every day to become aliens themselves." The voice continued. "But for those of us still undecided, I'm here to tell you that there is still hope; that there is no need to give up the sanctity of your DNA. There is..."
The curtains swept open, revealing a lone man with pale skin standing center stage and holding a microphone. He wore a suit of such pure white that looking at it for too long would give you snow blindness, a trait shared by his carefully groomed yet sharp and angular hair. His facial features were hardened, and though his confident expression was difficult for Ben to parse this far away from the stage, he could still tell there was a sinister air about it.
"Khristos Robotics!" The man gestured to a massive screen behind him that lit up to display the logo of his company.
There was a wave of applause from the crowd, Ben and Rook excluded. Clearly the other attendees were not only familiar with this company, but dedicated supporters of it as well.
"If you've been following our product development, you already know that we've perfected prosthetic replacements for lost limbs and various organs, allowing people like the brave veterans that have been crippled in the defense of our great nation to rise up again, even better than before." The screen behind the man changed to display various news articles and press releases describing and praising the prosthetics manufactured by Khristós Robotics. "But these days, I think we can all agree that simply having your normal range of function restored isn't enough. We live in a world being invaded by creatures of extraordinary power, and superhuman threats..." The man pulled up his left sleeve and thrust his arm into the air, where it began splitting itself apart to reveal that it was constructed of a complex array of micro-machinery. "Demand a superhuman response!"
The audience gasped in awe as the machinery comprising his arm rearranged itself into several long, prehensile tendrils before twisting itself back into shape. Ben just rolled his eyes. It was impressive for human-created tech, but in what world would this count as "superhuman" technology? He'd seen Dr. Animo kitbash more impressive things out of a colander.
"I appreciate the awe and wonder, but this live reconstruction technology is simply the groundwork for what I'm presenting here today." The man onstage chuckled. It was clearly meant to make him seem more personable, but there was a distinct hollowness in the sound. "The truly revolutionary development being showcased today..." The man pressed a hidden button on the back of the barely-visible earpiece he was wearing. "Is *this*:"
Right on cue, a wheeled robotic assistant emerged from stage left. It was a relatively simple machine consisting of a square, three-wheeled base with a hydraulic arm mounted on it. At the end of the arm was a set of small articulated squares arranged in an adjustable, table-like grid. At the moment, the grid was configured to fit a small velvet display case tilted just barely sideways enough to keep the contents underneath its glass lid out of view for the audience, creating an extra sense of anticipation among the crowd. It approached the man at a speed just slow enough to feel dramatic without boring the audience.
One it reached the man's side, the robot finally tilted the display case it was carrying towards audience, with the screen behind the man changing to a zoomed-in camera view pointed directly at its contents: a set of three small yet thick glass keycards, each tinted a different color and etched with clean, angular lines of circuitry.
"These..." The man paused to pick up the red card on the left side of the case. The camera angle being broadcast onto the screen zoomed out a bit to focus on him. "...Are Module Cartridges. They are the key to unlocking the true potential of our newest cybernetics."
He raised his right arm up again, this time with its back facing the audience. A small cartridge slot popped open on the back of his hand, which he firmly set the keycard into and closed with a click. The mechanics in his arm reacted immediately, creating a holographic 3d blueprint around his arm that they shifted and reconfigured themselves to fill. This all happened so quickly that the audience hardly had time to blink before the man's arm was wholly transformed into a single-jointed flamethrower mechanism. Ben perked up in his seat. This was catching his attention.
"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is exactly what you think it is." The man lit a small but intense flame at the tip of the flamethrower to demonstrate. "A fully armed and capable flamethrower, powerful enough to melt through a brick wall, yet precise enough to use for delicate soldering."
The cartridge slot popped open on the flamethrower's nozzle, allowing the man to remove the keycard. As soon as he did so, the flamethrower mechanism reformed itself into its default state as a normal arm.
"You see, the modules generated by these cartridges don't replace your arm," The man boasted, placing the red cartridge back in the display case. "They are your arm. This allows them to be used with unparalleled dexterity and control."