Chapter 6
Not to change a winning day, Ryan redid everything likest time. He arrived at Renesco''s ce, waited for Ghoul to get in, then
smashed the Psycho with his Plymouth from behind.
However, as he opened the trunk to grab his baseball bat and finish the job, the courier felt a pang of guilt. Could he live with
suchziness? Beating an old bag of bones the exact same way, over and over again? Couldn''t he give this moment a little more
dignity and uniqueness?
Mmmm...
For the sake of novelty, Ryan grabbed his shotgun instead. He waltzed toward Ghoul and shot him in the left knee before he
could even realize what was going on. The undead bastard almost copsed, but managed to hang on to the counter.
“Hey, are you alright?” the courier asked his favorite target practicepanion. “You don’t look alright.”
“You shot me!” the Psycho snarled, half-surprised, half-angered. “You shot me in the leg!”
“Do you need to go to the hospital?“ Ryan asked with kindness, reloading the shotgun.
“I''m going to—” Ryan shot Ghoul in the other knee, making him copse to the ground screaming. “You bastard!”
“And now you do!”
The courier had the feeling they were going to do this routine a lot.
After shooting Ghoul everywhere it mattered—and even ces where it didn’t—Ryan paid off Renesco and the Private Security,
before diverging from the previous loop.
Having learned his lesson fromst time, Ryan chose another hotel, one where he hopefully shouldn’t have his room firebombed;
a ce away from the tourist areas. He drove south, towards the Plebeian district, and he could already see the reason for the
name; as soon as he left the strip and tourist hotspots, the architecture changed. Casinos and nightclubs vanished, reced with
three-story apartment buildings clustered together and narrow alleys. Small markets and cafes gave off a tantalizing smell of
food.
Eventually, Ryan reached the Arab district, which he recognized by the billboard ads—most written in Arabic and Turkish,
although he caught a little Spanish here and there. The locals called it Little Maghreb from what Ryan had heard.
He drove by a perfect replica of the synagogue of Turin—Ryan had visited the original, although he had needed a hazmat suit to
survive the trip through the irradiated city—standing next to a mosque. Both buildings were slightly derelict, showing how little
Dynamis and other corporations cared about maintaining religious sites.
However, the site that caught his attention was a hill at the south, which seemed to be the city’s highest natural point. An
enormous estate stood atop it, roughly the size of the Vatican, and whose architecture was clearly inspired by antiquity work. It
included an oversized, multiple-floor Roman vi, fountains, a private park, and even a smaller replica of the Greek Parthenon.
Clearly, whoever lived there had a huge godplex.
Why the obsession with marble columns though? Why did nobody ever add obelisks, for diversity?
And strangely, nothing was built around that estate for kilometers, and only one way led to the summit, the hill being surrounded
by a fortified fence and security forces. Curious. Ryan had a good idea who inhabited those halls, and so decided to stay as far
away from it as possible.
Yes, there were a few people against whom Ryan didn’t dare to test his immortality against, at least not yet. Especially now that
he had a lead on Len after so many years.
His hotel was... a lot dirtier than the previous one. The owner had traded security cameras for cockroaches in the walls, and
Ryan’s bed smelled of Bliss, that mushroom drug everyone consumed nowadays. Someone even drew a dick graffiti in the
shower, alongside a number to call a prostitute.
Ryan did the sensible thing.
He called, out of curiosity.
“Yeah?” a male voice answered.
Ryan nced at the graffiti, then ended the call without a word, chuckling to himself. Some things never changed.
The next morning, like in the previous loop, Ryan did science in his underwear. This time, though, he focused more on
reinforcing Fisty, to prevent the ice trick that allowed Ghoul to jam it in theirst encounter. The courier couldn’t have his
weapons underperform while beating up an old bone yeller.
He also did Dyn research about sightings of submarines and bathyspheres in the local gulf but found nothing. He did learn
that the old ind of Ischia, the one he had seen while driving on the coast, was a toxic ruin since Mechron bombed Italy back to
the stone age; unlike other areas, corporations never bothered to renovate it.
The Augusti had to send those crates somewhere, and there must have been a reason why they used Genius-made submarines
rather than boats. Maybe it was to send supplies to the ind? He couldn''t prove it, but Ryan had a good feeling about it.
Aknock on his window interrupted his research, like the sight of a familiar winged heroine.
Ryan reyed the same conversation asst time, except on the third floor rather than the tenth. Wyvern seemed a little more
nervous than in thest loop, though. Maybe it was the closeness to the mountain estate?
Also, Ryan noticed the locals had emptied the street below his bedroom when Wyvern showed up. They didn’t seem to like II
Migliore around here.
“You say the Meta will break out Ghoul today, with theplicity of corrupt Private Security guards?” Wyvern frowned. “How do
you know that?”
“You don’t ask a magician to reveal his tricks,” Ryan protested. “I’m just saying, you should probably escort the creepy undead
yourself.”
“From what | heard, even if they break him out, he won’t run far. The medics said he had more bullets than intact bones in his
body.” Wyvern marked a short pause, focusing on her earplug. “Looks like you were right. The Meta are ambushing Ghoul’s
transport convoy as we speak, in broad daylight.”
Oh, so that''s why she left in a hurry before? She clearly hadn''t been fast enoughst loop, maybe this time would do the trick?
“Before you go save the world and save me a miniboss battleter,” Ryan pointed in the direction of the hill, and the estate on it,
“what is the name of this beautiful and not at all suspicious Roman-themed park?”
“Officially? Hillside. Unofficially?” Wyvern sighed. “Mount Augustus.”
He even giarized Mount Olympus but renamed it after himself. It should have been called Mount Narcissus.
“Take care,” Wyvern told Ryan after giving him a business card, before flying off without a sound. Ryan watched her vanish at
high-speed, wondering if she would make it this time.
Anyway, in spite of that little divergence, he didn’t have to worry. He just had to wait for Vulcan’s call and everything would be
back on track. Since he was close to Augusti territory, no doubt they would contact him again in short order.
The call woulde any second now.Content protected by N?v/el(D)rama.Org.
Any second now.
KABOOM!
The sound of a distant explosion startled Ryan, who opened the window. He noticed a pir of smoke reaching up to the skies,
somewhat in the direction where Wyvern flew.
Shit.
Vulcan didn’t call him all day long.
Disturbed, Ryan went to the Bakuto casino anyway at night, but the guards refused to let him in when he arrived in costume.
Unlikest time, they gently told him to fuck off after noticing his A-bomb.
As if it was a crime to carry a thermonuclear device nowadays!
So Ryan returned but unmasked and in civilian clothes; he even put on a ssy red tie. This time, he managed to slip in, the
guards mistaking him for a normal client.
“Hey, friendly nameless extra,” Ryan asked a card croupier, ying ckjack with a well-dressed group of professional gamblers
straight out of Casino Royale. “I am looking for Zanbato. Have you seen him?”
“Zanbato?” the croupier frowned. “No, he’s not here tonight.”
“My plumber friend Luigi then?”
The dealer shrugged his shoulders. “No, | don’t think so. What is it about? | can give them a message if | see them.”
Damn it. Still, Ryan approached the dealer''s ear and whispered into it. “The orange is in the hen house.”
“The orange is in the hen house?”
“It''s a code, they will understand. Their lives depend on it, so don’t screw up.” The dealer nodded seriously, promising to deliver
the message.
But still, goddamnit! Clearly things had gone off the rails somewhere, but what caused it? Shooting Ghoul? The hotel switch?
Warning Wyvern about Ghoul’s escape? Whatever it was, it made him fall off the Augusti’s radar or changed their priorities, just
when he finally found a lead on Len!
Ryan stayed at the casino just in case, ying for hours. Knowing the results of every game, he umted quite a nice sum at
the roulette and Colosseum bets, although he was very careful never to overy his hand. Having entire lifetimes’ worth of
cheating experience, the courier had mastered the art of looking like a professional gambler; sacrificing money when needed,
discussing oveplicated probability theories with other yers, and faking nerve-wracking tension while waiting for the
results. He also yed legitimately at poker and ckjack, not even using his time-stop to look at his rivals’ hands.
In the end, the main defense against anti-seer methods was banality. Seers were rare and usually obvious, always trying to win it
big; while skilled gamblers and talented amateurs were legion. Ryan just had to convince guards he belonged to thetter group,
winning high but believable amounts, and it did the work.
Ryan usually enjoyed these tricks, but his heart wasn’t in it. Instead, he kept asking himself questions. Should he go to the
supply run at the harbor even without being invited? It could get him right back on the Augusti Path, but Ryan wasn’t sure if it
would even happen now.
Also, who killed him in thest loop? The Meta were the obvious suspect, but it could also be an unrted hit. Since the courier
took a job for the Augusti after denying Wyvern, Dynamis could have simply ordered him dead.
No, the easiest solution was to reload and deviate after receiving the Augusti mission, but Ryan needed to die first.
Car crash? Toomon already. Traffic had killed him almost as often as enemy Genomes.
Bullet to the head? Thest time Ryan tried he woke up six monthster, the medics congratting themselves on their
‘miraculous’ surgery.
Train tracks? Unoriginal, everybody did that nowadays.
Roman suicide? Thematic and ssy, but he would have to find a sword or hemlock.
“Nice y.” Ryan nced at the left of his table, noticing that a stunning woman had taken a seat right next to him. She was an
elegantdy with long ck hair, a crimson gown, and a beauty spot on the right cheek. She yed with a ss full of alcohol,
clearly trying to get Ryan’s attention. “This is the first time I''ve seen you around here.”
It was strange how everybody wanted to be Ryan’s friend when he started making money. Was it his maic personality?
“Sorry, I’m thinking about something else.”
“What could be more important than umting a big pile of money?” she asked, flirtatiously ying with her ss.
“I''m trying to find a suicide method that hasn''t been done before. Something original and over-the-top.”
The question took her aback, but the woman did consider it. “Jumping into Mt. Vesuvius?” she proposed.
Ryan could have sworn he already experienced a simr conversation in a previous loop. “Already done, though with Etna rather
than Vesuvius.”
“| didn’t know,” she replied, sipping her cocktail. “Do you want tomit suicide or is this just theoretical?”
Already bored with the conversation and failing to find a suicide method he hadn’t already tried, Ryan raised his hand at a waiter.
“Can | have an electric fan?”
“A fan, sir?” the waiter asked, confused. Ryan answered by giving him a three hundred euro tip.
One minuteter, he had his fan.
While he took most of his winnings for himself, the Genome piled up thousands of euros banknotes in front of the fan, aiming for
the center of the casino. The woman at his side probably guessed what crossed his mind, if the sh of recognition in her eyes
was of any indication.
Ryan switched on the fan, which sent euro bills flying all over the casino. “To the fastest!” he shouted as loud as he could, a sh
of greed in everyone’s eyes.
When the Genome exited the Bakuto, all the locals were fighting over the bills, the woman included. Even the bouncers and the
staff tried to grab a fistful.
Ignoring the chaos he started, Ryan nced at Wyvern''s business card and the Dynamis logo on its back. Should he check
them out?
Mmm... no. Len was his priority—his only priority. He was tired of these long years of loneliness, and he wanted to find her at all
costs.
The Augusti had provided him hints already. Ryan knew people used her Genius technology, and that people traded such
devices in Rust Town. If the Augusti Path was closed to him for this loop, then he should try to figure out where they could have
obtained the bathyspheres. If there was a ck market for Genius goods, he should check it out.
He could always kill himself afterward.