The Perfect Run

It was May 8th, 2020 for the third time, and Ryan had already caused two traffic accidents.

He blamed the people of New Rome for this. The city’s inhabitants were as nervous as coffee addicts in the morning, and drove their cars like monkeys out for his blood. Moving on the walkway would have been safer.

Thankfully, he had saved right before passing the ‘Welcome to New Rome’ sign at the end of the highway linking the city to the rest of the Campania region.

Driving his highly customized red Plymouth Fury, Ryan stopped right before a tank truck would have hit him to the left, dodged a Bliss-addict meth-head, and then finally reached New Rome’s strip.

Owing to its reputation as the largest metropolis in Italy and a ravaged Europe’s capital of sin, New Rome was quite the sight. Built around the shores of the gulf of Naples years after Mechron’s drones bombed it to oblivion, it had the tallest buildings Ryan had seen since the end of the Genome Wars. None held a candle to the Dynamis Tower north of town, a glass spire symbolizing the company’s power over the region; corporate money had built New Rome, a city with no gods nor kings. Only money.

At the left of the driveway, Ryan could see the pristine Mediterranean Sea, glittering with the sunset while a distant island cast a long shadow on the horizon; on his right, he could glance at the countless casinos, gambling dens, and luxury hostels who drew so many tourists to the city. He even glimpsed the famous Colosseum Maximus, a modern replica of the old world’s Colosseum.

This district truly deserved its name of the Golden Coast.

Ryan himself attracted a few glances from tourists since he drove in his Quicksave costume. He covered his adorable face with a metal, mouthless mask with two rounded glasses for eyes, and his black hair beneath a black top hat. Add to that a navy blue trench coat, a purple shirt, blue pants, black gloves, and boots, and you became style incarnate.

The outfit was hot to wear, and not very practical for fighting, but it looked amazing. To Quicksave, that was all that mattered.

As he continued moving north towards his destination, Ryan noticed a few eye-catching publicity boards. One of them portrayed the superheroine Wyvern, a beautiful amazon of a woman with shoulder-length black hair, sharp greyish eyes, and a white bodysuit, showing off her muscles with a green potion in the background.

‘Want to be as strong as Wyvern? With our Hercules Elixir, what Hercules did in twelve labors, you will do in an afternoon!’

‘One hundred thousand euros, only at Dynamis!’

Meh, everyone wanted to be a Genome these days, even the shadow of one. Then again, who could resist superpowers-in-a-can? Ryan hadn’t, although he had taken the real stuff, not a cheap knockoff giving just a fraction of a real superpower.

His life had been a rollercoaster ever since.

Driving in front of a cliff tourist spot and a Miami-like beach, Ryan reached a tourist district, full of bars, nightclubs, and restaurants. The place smelled of drugs and alcohol, but it didn’t look seedy either. The worst neighborhoods were in the north, from what he had heard.

Having memorized the city’s map, Ryan quickly found the place he was looking for; an unremarkable pub located between an Italian restaurant and a closed nightclub. Parking his car nearby, the courier stepped down and opened his trunk.

Never good at organizing stuff, the young man had left all his belongings in a chaotic mess. His tools, computers, and weapons formed a mass of metal almost overflowing from the car; although none compared to his white rabbit plushie, the most devastating tool in his arsenal.

After searching, Ryan quickly found the black briefcase he had been hired to deliver, seized it, closed the trunk, and then entered the pub.

It was something of a cozy place with ten tables, only a third of them occupied. He briefly noticed some Latin muchacho trying to impress his date by levitating a coin in the air—he must have wasted fifty thousand bucks on a knockoff elixir. A balding, wrinkled old man with tanned skin stood behind the counter, looking at the newcomer suspiciously.

“Hello, local humans, I come in peace!” Ryan addressed the carbon-based lifeform called a barman. “Is this Renesco’s Jolie Wrangler?”

The man behind the counter glared at him. “It’s written on the front door. What do you want?”

Why did the bar’s title involve both French and English words, while the barman sounded like a true Italian? Multiculturalism struck again! “Then you must be Renesco!” Ryan handed the poor fellow the briefcase. “I’ve been hired to give you this! It’s full of mushrooms and a bomb, but I didn’t open it this time.”

“This time?” the barman frowned. “Are you…”

“I’m Quicksave,” Ryan introduced himself, tipping his hat. “I’m immortal, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Man, you said it loud enough for everyone to hear!” someone jeered at the back, the few clients laughing.

“That’s your power?” the barman asked, unimpressed. “Immortality?”

a

he seized the briefcase. “I’ll tell my boss and

look, since I’m here, have you seen a girl called Len? Black

a shrug. “If you’re looking for a

the type, but thanks anyway.” Knowing her, Len was probably hiding in some underground Kremlin bunker. “Any place where

the Junkyard, but it’s full of cutthroats and Psychos nowadays.” The barman looked at Quicksave head to toe. “They’re going

the bar. The temperature seemed to suddenly drop a few degrees. “Renesco?”

the barman replied,

Renesco’s throat and nailed

at astonishing speed. It pierced his bulletproof jacket and his ribs like a spear, then came out on the other side; leaving a gaping hole where the

the tables and clients alike. Struggling against the sharp pain in his chest, Ryan collapsed on the

vestigial muscles, skeletal fingers, and frozen eyes. An unnatural, chilling mist

his physical

his regards,” the killer rasped. The muchacho man in the bar’s back tried to telekinetically throw a chair at him, but the hostile Genome grew an armor of ice over his bones. A few icicles later, the Spanish guy and his date had their face redrawn

his murderer,

with a wave of his hand,

was May 8th 2020 for the fourth time, and

he had died

of his save point, his powers needed a conscious action to activate; his enhanced timing sense,

than two hours after establishing a save point, three times

This meant war.

wandering off while his body repeated all the actions of his previous save. He only stopped and regained

of entering, Ryan remained in his car, waiting for

assassin walked out of a street corner, hands in his pockets and his ugly face hidden beneath a hoodie. It said

was only one rational, responsible

car right in front of the pub, set an ACDC

into the Wrangler’s entrance. Having been reinforced specifically for this kind of stunt, the Plymouth demolished the

accidentally hit any of the clients; he had been very careful to position himself in an angle with nobody but the assassin on the path, but you could never know. Thankfully, he hadn’t harmed anyone, and the Spanish muchacho was too busy holding his terrified girlfriend in his arms to throw

He wouldn’t have to reload

as he stepped down and moved behind his car.

Renesco shouted

a minute!” Ryan replied before opening his car’s trunk,

The pisto-gauntlets? Too intimate.

gauss rifle?

Tempting, but

plushie? Far too

The baseball bat?

Bat it was.

approaching the assassin as he rose back to his feet, using the counter as support. Any other person would

armor of ice over his body as he did in the last loop, but too stunned

to think of a good

raising his hand, unleashing a volley of ice

everything gained a purple hue, and the icicles froze

Froze. The courier memorized

me by surprise last time,” Quicksave said, as he moved around the path of the attack until he was right in front of his target. Neither clients nor the enemy Genome could move, trapped between two seconds. “Not gonna

and the world regained its colors, the skeleton kissed the aluminum bat intimately. The undead Genome lost a few teeth