Chapter 44


    “| win,” Ryan said, resting on the flower garden in the outer wall’s shadow.


    “Again?” Geistined, the ghost overseeing the game with a doubtful expression. Apparently, his phantom skull of a face


    could squint. “It’s impossible. How can | keep losing?”


    Well, it was hard to catch someone capable of stopping time.


    In the end, the trip to Bliss ind had been a disappointment. Every time Ryan tried to ‘visit’ a restricted area beyond the walls


    and the gardens, armored guards or Geist kindly asked him to turn back. Though he memorized the patrols and turrets’


    locations, the courier didn’t see any way to get inside the facility without starting a fight and ending the current run.


    Eventually, he just settled into ying games with Geist in the nt garden outside the fortress, waiting for Vulcan and the others


    to finish their business. The ghost had happily yed along, though he wasn’t very good. Ryan had the feeling the suicidal


    specter appreciated having somepany.


    “| really need a job as a drug cook,” Ryan told Geist. “Can’t you haunt Cardinal Creep until he gives in?”


    “There’s only one cook, and it’s Ceres,” Geist shrugged. “The rest of the facility supports her work, and nothing else.”


    Ryan figured as much. Narcinia’s power made it easy for her to create new nts to harvest as raw material. Even this entire


    garden, capable of thriving in a toxic ind, was probably her work. “So if she retires, no more Bliss?”


    “Sort of,” Geist replied. “Father Torque has enough flower strains to continue the work even if she’s gone, though the quality will


    take a hit.”


    “You shouldn''t say that out loud.” Ryan didn’t even move an inch, as Mortimer leaned over his shoulder, having phased out of the


    ground. “Walls have ears.”


    “Do you want to y?” the courier casually asked the bodyguard. “It’s funnier when there are three yers, and the guards are


    humorless killjoys.”


    “You are no fun, no fun at all,” the hitman said, disappointed that he couldn’t startle Ryan no matter how hard he tried.


    “Shouldn''t you be inside?” Geist asked, telekically crafting a chair out of nearby stones and dirt.


    “Sparrow asked me to check on him,” Mortimer said, ncing at Ryan while sitting on the makeshift chair. “She was worried he


    might start a forest fire or something.”


    “That’s demeaning,” Ryan said. “Sometimes | settle for nuclear winters.”


    “They make me want to glow in the dark,” the hitman replied, looking at the game. “What are you ying?”


    Ryan showed Mortimer bird talus bones. The hitman nced at the bones, then at Casper the Ghost. “Knucklebones, really?”


    “It’s to stick with the ghost theme,” the courier replied. “Want to y? It’s an old variant, a pure game of luck.”


    Mortimer shrugged and grabbed some of the bones. “We should y cards next,” he said.


    “Or use a Ouija board,” Ryan suggested, ncing at Casper. “Should be easy.”


    “How does it even work?” Mortimer asked Geist, as he threw the bones with the force of his mind. “You need to settle some


    unfinished business before moving on?”


    “Bite me,” Casper the Ghost exined. “I drank a Yellow Elixir on Last Easter, but it didn’te with a manual. Hell, | thought |


    didn’t get any power until Mechron’s nanogue turned my body to dust. | got the briefest glimpse of an afterlife, and then | was


    yanked back to that dumpster and bound to my mortal remains.”


    “And you can’t leave the ind?” Mortimer asked, throwing his bones on the ground. “Mortimer likes haunted houses. | could


    bury you in my garden.”


    “| can’t go far, no,” Geistmented. “My remains are all over the ce now, so good luck putting it back together. Even Cancel


    only goes as far as preventing me from manifesting, and Pluto''s power needs someone to be alive in the first ce.”


    If you asked Ryan, besides that geographic limitation, Casper had hit the jackpot as far as Yellow Elixirs went. Unlimited


    ectosmic powers plus immortality? That was a life to die for! Ryanughed at his own mental joke, much to the others’


    confusion.


    “Frankly, I’m just a groundskeeper cleaning up the ce, waiting for the end,” Geist said before throwing more bones on the


    ground. It would exin his casual attitude about the crime family’s secrets, especially if they couldn’t kill him permanently.


    “Father Torque says he’s close to achieving Heaven though.”


    “Poor Mortimer sent many people there,” the hitman said. “And to the ce below too.”


    “| haven''t reached any of those ces, and | tried a lot,” Ryan said, winning another Knucklebones round, and fairly this time.


    “Father Torque saw God when he took his Elixir,” Geist said, and he sounded like he believed it too. “He thinks a powerful


    psychotropic like Bliss could replicate the effect and allow him to receive a divine revtion. Not sure if it will work, but a ghost


    can always hope.”


    “| hope Ceres can solve all the long-term health problems before he overdoses on Bliss though,” Ryan said. “Especially the


    sterility thing. Though | guess it won’t matter much to a priest.”


    “Sterility?” Geist asked, a bit surprised.


    “| know health safety isn’t high among your priorities, but trust me, don’t get high on your own product.” Ryan had studied all


    drugs in-depth... for research purposes only. “Among other side-effects, Bliss acts as a long-term endocrine disruptor, working on


    a gic level. Genomes aren''t affected much due to their enhanced metabolism, but everyone else more or less bes


    sterile after one year.”


    “Oh, that?” Mortimer shrugged. “I heard the rumor, but if you ask Poor Ol’ Mortimer, it''s just Dynamis propaganda. They can’t


    make a better product so they denigrate ours.”


    Ryan looked at the hitman, squinted, and then stopped time.


    When it resumed, the courier had grabbed Mortimer’s mask and looked beneath.


    His true face looked a lot like Laurence Fishburne''s. Same receding hairline, same soft features, same Morpheus re.


    “Hey, my secret identity!” Mortimerined while grabbing back his skull mask.


    “You aren’t even old!” Ryanined, extremely disappointed. He must have been in his early forties at worst! “You''re thirty


    years early to be such a downer!”


    “Poor Mortimer is old inside,” the hitman replied, putting back the mask. “He’s an old soul!”


    More like an emo teen''s soul in an adult''s body.


    Before Ryan could mock the hitman further, his phone rang inside his coat. The courier grabbed it but didn’t recognize the


    number. “Quicksave Deliveries, what can | do for you?” he asked while taking the call.


    “Riri?”


    “Shortie?” Wait, Len had a phone?


    “Is that your goomah?” Mortimer asked mockingly, still sore about the mask part. “Vulcan won''t be happy about that.”


    Ryan threw the bones at Mortimer’s face while walking away, and they bounced off the cackling hitman’s mask. Maybe his


    intangibility only worked through inorganic matter.


    “| couldn’t contact you on the Chronoradio,” Len said. Her voice was tense, rmed, and Ryan could hear the children talking in


    the background. “You are on Ischia Ind?”


    “The only habitable part of it,” he replied, leaning against the outer wall. “You know Vulcan can probably record our


    conversations? Everything you say will be held against you before in a court ofw.”


    “| couldn’t wait,” she said, clearly in no mood for jokes, “My radars picked tremorsing from Rust Town, and multiple flying


    objects moving towards Ischia Ind.”


    Oh? Were the Meta climbing out of their hole? Ryan wasn’t sure if this was good or bad news.


    Before he could ask for details, someone else called him; once again, the courier didn’t recognize the number.


    “Excuse me, Shortie, | will be back in a minute,” Ryan said, before switching calls. “Quicksave Deliveries, what can | do for you?


    Pay for four explosions, and the fifth one is free!”


    “You owe me a suit, Romano.”


    ckthorn.


    “| hope you appreciate, that everything-”


    “-everything that happens now, will be on your head,” Ryan said at the same time as his caller.


    “You think this is-”


    “-a game?” Ryan said at the same time, their words matching with perfect synchronicity. Enrique Manada fell silent on the other


    side of the line; the courier briefly wondered if he had been vexed. “I’m sorry, but after a while, you’ve heard them all. You should


    stick to gardening, Poison Rosy.”


    “| see this isn’t your first rodeo, Romano, but this will be yourst.”N?velDrama.Org owns ? this.


    “I''m not sure if you use a marketing department for your speeches, but | would fire them if | were you.” Though Ryan was


    ttered to have earned himself an archenemy. “Have you called to exchange threats? Perhaps challenge me to a duel to


    restore your lost honor?”


    “Nothing so old-fashioned,” the corporate mastermind replied, considering his next words. “In truth, | wanted to thank you. You


    seeded where | failed for years.”


    That was a new one. “Looking fabulous?”


    “You people mistake pragmatism for weakness,” Enrique said, ignoring Ryan’s jab. “You think that because we let you be for so


    long, that we are prey. You''re wrong. We simply know that war is bad for business. War has no winners, only different shades of


    losers.”


    “lm not sure | follow.”


    “My father is a pragmatic man,” Enrique exined. “He believes we can have a ‘detente’ with your boss, but my brother and |


    know better. You Augusti aren’t a state or corporation we can coexist with. You are feudal warlords who only understand strength.


    And after you dared to attack our HQ, Don Hector finally decided to speak yournguage. Consider what''s about to follow... a


    friendly reminder not to overstep again.”


    Well, that was ominous. “Is this about the suit? Or revenge for the public humiliation?”


    “No, Romano, this goes beyond that.” ckthorn’sposure broke slightly, and his true feelings poured through the corporate


    mask. “We have struggled for years to rebuild a functioning society. Now we are at a crossroads, with two visions facing off. The


    one that prevails will dictate what new world emerges from the Earth''s ashes... and | cannot, in good conscience, let Augustus


    be humanity’s future.”


    To be honest, he had a point... at least in theory. “Take a look at Rust Town,” Ryan replied,pletely unimpressed. “See where


    your high-minded words meet reality.”


    “We don’t always seed at improving things, | will concede it, but the difference between my organization and yours is that at


    least we try.” Another short pause. “Have you heard of Giorgio Rosa, Romano?”


    Giorgio Rosa, Giorgio Rosa... the Republic of Rose Ind? “That crazy guy who built an oil tform in the middle sea and called


    it an independent nation?”


    “You are a man of culture,” Enrique said, his tone switching from icy to extremely pleased. “I assume you also remember what


    happened to his rogue ind?”


    Ryan frowned, before looking at the sea. ck spots appeared in the skies, flying under the sun towards the ind. “It was sunk


    by the Italian government?”


    ckthorn hung up on him.


    Ryan switched back to Len. “Riri? What’s happening?”


    “Say whatever you want about Dynamis,” Ryan said, a strident rm echoing across Ischia Ind as the spots started taking


    shape. “They aren''t all bark.”


    Thirty war helicopters were making their way towards the Bliss production facility, moving in three groups of ten. Ryan


    recognized the model as customized NH90s, optimized for troop transports and naval warfare. They probably transported three


    hundred soldiers, perhaps more.


    “That’s a lot of mooks,” Ryan observed. It reminded him of the Rust Town raid, except he was on the receiving end this time.


    “I''ming,” Len said, before abruptly ending the call.


    Ryan slowly put the cellphone back in its pocket, while Geist looked up at the skies. Besides the helicopters, a few Genomes


    followed the assault team by flight. Besides the usual suspect Wyvern, who hadn''t transformed yet, Ryan noticed a man wearing


    a fabulous hawk-like costume made of crimson and green feathers; the very winds seemed to carry him above the ground, with a


    small tornado forming around his waist. A red-skinned, muscled amazon followed, unleashing streams of mes from her feet to


    propel herself up. A devilish tail grew out of her pants, and two curved horns from her long ck hair. Her skin-tight, suggestive


    leather suit reminded Ryan of a biker .


    “Well, well,” Mortimer said, rising from his chair, bringing out a rifle hidden beneath his cloak, “that ain’t good at all. And


    Windsweep’s back in town!”


    “Devilry too,” Casper said, looking at the red-skinned woman. Windsweep was the temte of the Tempest Knockoff Elixirs, and


    Devilry had inspired the pyrokic Firebrand type. Dynamis had summoned II Migliore’s elite team.


    Maybe they brought Felix the Cat too?


    The guards protecting the ind’s walls had immediately raised their weapons, while the turrets around the fortress turned


    towards the helicopters. Instead of powering through and starting a fight immediately, Dynamis’ troops stopped at a respectable


    distance, waiting for a signal before opening fire.


    Wyvern moved at the army’s vanguard, carrying a megaphone; out of everyone present, she looked the happiest. Knowing the


    heroine, she must have been waiting for a pretext to attack the ind for a long time.


    “Quicksave!” Wyvern spoke through the megaphone, her voice echoing across the skies. “Jasmine! You are under arrest for


    staging a terrorist attack against Dynamis’bs! Both of you, step outside, hands behind the head!”


    So what, they could let Vulcan trying to murder Ryan in a past loop slide, but not the theft of a suit? Then again, it was cashmere.


    Most probably, it was the public nature of the heist that pissed off Dynamis. An attempted murder off-cameras could be swept


    under the rug, but a public affront had to be met with a harsh response to save face.


    “Fuck off, Laura!” Vulcan’s furious voice echoed from the fortress, carried by loudspeakers. She must have noticed the iing


    army on her radars long before it showed up. “I’m barely keeping my thumb from the trigger right now!”


    “If you bothe without resisting, you shall remain unharmed and we will leave this ind peacefully,” Wyvern said, her gaze


    focusing on Ryan. “Otherwise...”


    She left the sentence hanging, all the defensive turrets pointed at her.


    “Can | pay you to look the other way?” Ryan asked, raising euro bills like a white g.


    “You are fighting for the wrong side, Quicksave,” Wyvern replied,pletely unfazed by his taunts. “But suit yourself. I''ve


    daydreamed about wrecking that death factory for over two years.”


    “| would like to see you yuppies try,” Mortimer added, the walls trembling while Geist’s skull face transformed into a ghastly vision


    of hell. “Mortimer has been itching for bloodtely, and he wonders if you bleed red or green.”


    “| will say it again, Laura,” Vulcan’s voice echoed through the loudspeakers, a turret firing a warning shot into the sea. “Fuck.


    Offl”


    “I''m sorry,” Ryan said regretfully, straightening his coat. “But giving you back that suit would be a legit war crime.”


    “| will take this as a no,” Wyvern said, more pleased than anything. “Good. | no longer have to hold back.”


    The heroine quickly tossed the megaphone into the sea and started changing shape, growing into an enormous dragon.


    “To be honest,” the mighty beast roared, her powerful voice carrying across the ind. “I have never done a drug bust this big


    before!”


    As both the turrets and helicopters opened fire at each other, Ryan stopped time, moved back to Mortimer’s chair, and turned it


    to face the sea. The courier sat, put his hands behind his hair, and let time resume to watch the fireworks.


    Shroud had wanted this ind wrecked.


    And Ryan always delivered.