The Perfect Run

“It can’t be them.”

Ryan searched inside his car’s trunk, finally putting his hands on his secret weapons: his coil gun, and a bag of flour. “What do you know of Leo Hargraves’ Carnival, my feline friend?”

“That they’re wandering heroes fighting marauders, warlords, dangerous Genomes, and Psychos,” Atom Cat replied, his back against the car. “They help communities pro bono, then move on. They’re modern knight errant, not assassins.”

“That’s true,” Ryan conceded. Which was partly why he respected them as a group, even after the problems they caused him. “But they’re also pragmatic knights. When they fight, they don’t pull their punches. They hit hard and fast, and unlike most Genomes, they actually use small unit tactics.”

“You speak as if you fought them.”

“I did.” And they gave him his fair share of resets, especially in his early loops. “I was present when they killed Bloodstream four years ago and got caught in the crossfire. Now, usually, I love being in the middle of interesting things, but that day cost me something dear to me.”

“Something, or someone?”

Sharp cat.

It had been the day Ryan had drunk his Elixir, which he did to survive that disaster in the first place. He couldn’t fully control his save point back then, and he ended up trapped in a suboptimal route.

One which separated him from Len.

As the thought crossed his mind, Ryan glanced at the Mediterranean Sea, the rising dawn refracting on its waters. As it turned out, the assassin had established their base in a ship graveyard between Rust Town and the old harbor. The supertanker he had seen on the shores was only the first of an army.

Metal husks of tankers, boats, and even aircrafts were lined up on a sandy shore, rusted by saltwater. Barnacles had made their home on the belly of ships and airbus planes alike, with small alleys between each steel corpse. The IP signal came from an isolated garage nearby, a metal hangar partly built inside a cruise ship. Probably some kind of chop shop, scavenging the husks and selling back parts.

Rainy, toxic clouds appeared north, though strangely, they moved against the wind and towards the harbor. Was it the doing of Dynamis, blowing the pollution away from Rust Town?

Atom Cat crossed his arms, remembering something. “Dad once told me that he fought their original line-up years ago, before he and Mom adopted Narcinia. Augustus was still establishing his powerbase back then. He killed half of the Carnival’s members and drove off the rest.”

Well, they had returned to finish the job. Better late than never.

“But I never heard anything about a glass manipulator.”

“They have a lot of turnover, so this may be a new recruit,” Ryan replied. Considering the invisibility and the fact they often killed through bombs or mundane means, such a Genome could credibly fly under the radar. Especially if all witnesses end up dead. “I can’t move the car closer or carry anything with screens. I’m pretty sure they can detect and control glass over a vast radius.”

“How vast?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan replied, tossing his cell phone to the backseat, alongside all electronic devices. He only kept the nuclear bomb and the rabbit plushie. “They may even know we are here already.”

“Alright, then I will stay near the car, and if you don’t send a sign within half an hour, I will call Wyvern for help,” Atom Cat decided. “What about your mask’s goggles?”

“Silly, they aren’t made of glass!” Ryan replied. “They’re alien stuff!”

“Right, and that… is that flour?” Atom Cat frowned at Ryan’s toys. “Do you want to bake them a cake?”

“They will never see it coming.”

Atom Cat smiled thinly. “I know you won’t listen, but please don’t do anything stupid.”

“Don’t worry, I have more lives than your nine ones,” Ryan replied, packing his stuff and moving to the garage.

Though, he would be lying if the situation didn’t make him uneasy. The Carnival’s members were powerful Genomes, and that assassin had killed him twice already. A wrong move might result in another reset, and their previous history made him tense up.

As he reached the locked door, Ryan realized now would be the perfect time for a stealth mission. But he was pretty sure it was useless, and he never had the patience for them.

Instead, he shot the lock with his coil gun, the electromagnetic projectile going straight through the steel. “No country for old men!” he shouted, entering the garage weapon raised.

him with a shotgun past the door. In fact, the garage didn’t hold any car,

it housed several computer

clearly jury-rigged and linked to an autonomous electric generator. Two air conditioners worked to cool them down while wires went through a hole in the ground, probably linking the system to Dynamis’ underground cables. A massive desk with a single chair stood in the middle, surrounded by

that he could see the ship graveyard through the windows easily enough, yet he had seen none of these servers from the

wasn’t a recent development. They must have spent weeks, if not months, setting

displaying a boring screensaver on five different screens. It seemed he had busted the operation

wanted him to

the bag of flour, and rotated on himself. He sprayed the white powder in every direction, on the

standing in a corner with

Here you are.

some kind of invisible armor, so Ryan took the time to draw ‘kill me, I’m a perv’ on the chest. As time resumed, the figure froze as they found itself with a coil gun pointed to their head.

than your finger on the trigger,” Invisiboy replied,

Lucky Luke? I can draw faster than my shadow… faster

only give the illusion of it,” he replied, absolutely calm. “Or is

to identify the voice, but the suit muffled it too

being identified. “We did. Though you didn’t know I

Ryan mused. That explained a lot of his organization’s success if the

in bright blue glass, from head to toe; the substance prevented Ryan from seeing anything. The armor

by somehow bending the light around his armor, perhaps using the same process used in lenticular technologies. The

was some powerful

may call me the Shroud.” The glass man tilted his head to the side. “And if

the flour bag

helmet and onto the ground; his face now looked like that of a clown with all the

assassin said,

I keep my weapon drawn,” the time-manipulator said since his current

nothing to fear from us,” the man replied, crossing his arms. “Our current

must have

midst,” the Genome scoffed. “To be honest, I’m surprised you even managed to track

to enlighten him, especially after he killed the courier

that anger in your voice? Your concern surprises me.” The glass Genome walked towards the screens, ignoring the gun pointed at his head,

so far, I didn’t see anything that justified killing him. Heck, he’s pretty low in the hierarchy as far

Ryan of Enrique Manada. “Do

“Candies?”

to the Augusti’s fortress-lab on Ischia island, which produces their Bliss,” Shroud corrected him. “The drug is then shipped through boats and submarines to local distributors all over Italy, Spain, France, Turkey, Libya… a drug which is incredibly

“Your point?”

the Genome declared. “And even if he killed no one personally, by protecting this shipment, Zanbato indirectly supported an organization causing almost twenty-thousand deaths each

right,” Ryan coughed, “You will reduce

his chair, thoughtful. Ryan couldn’t see his body language with the armor

don’t like it,” he admitted. “I really, really don’t. I would prefer to talk it out, or put criminals in jail. No

vanguard, preparing the ground for his teammates. The Genome suspected he wasn't the only operative in

situation has degraded to a point that things will only get worse if we do nothing. The Augusti’s Capos can attempt to murder someone in broad daylight and walk out with a pat

good luck trying to kill the invincible man

god, but he is still only a man, and an aging one at that. He cannot peddle his drug in the street or exact tribute alone. He needs infrastructures, soldiers, and money to exert his influence; take away his subjects, and a king is simply a man wearing a crown. We may not be able to defeat Augustus, but

Ryan asked, his gut telling him something was missing. “Things have been somewhat

must have seen it already,” Shroud pointed out. “There is a war brewing between this city’s factions. A disaster that may spark a new round of Genome Wars

you’re pursuing your Perfect Run

delight, Shroud seemed to understand the reference. “You could say that, but there is no perfect ending, Quicksave. Only the best

the only person who understood video game slang was the guy who had him killed? There was no justice

a little hopeful. “Because I’m

this time,” Ryan replied. “But I will

for a few seconds. To his credit, he seemed open to the idea. “Well, in the unlikely case you do find a way to cripple the

wasn’t some Punisher immune to diplomacy attempts. Ryan could already see