After attacking Ghoul with his car in all his previous restarts, Ryan thought it had grown a little stale.

So this time, he hit the Psycho with a truck instead.

Ryan couldn’t find a Japanese one, but the one he ‘borrowed’ did the job, crashing through the walls and tossing Ghoul against the counter. The courier climbed down from the vehicle, carrying a black cane he had purchased at a shop down the street.

“Ghoul, there are a few things I can’t tolerate. The mass-murder? Eh, I’ve seen worse. The child-abductions? Now it gets my blood boiling. Trashing my car, thrice?” Ryan shook his head. “I can’t let that slide, Ghoul.”

“Who the…” As it turned out, a truck did a lot more damage than a Plymouth Fury. Some of Ghoul’s bones had broken upon impact, and he struggled to get back up. “Who the hell are you?!”

“You see this?” Ryan pointed at his hat. “This is my normal magician’s hat. The happy hat.”

He tossed it away and showed Ghoul a new, black bowler hat.

“This is the war hat.”

Ryan put it on and suddenly looked far more intimidating.

“You know me, Ghoul. I’m a model of mental stability and composure. I’m well-adjusted. But now that I’m wearing my war hat? Oh boy! Oh boy, no more Mr. Nice Guy! I will do great and terrible things today! It’s going to be terrific!”

“What are you—”

Ryan hit Ghoul’s knee with his cane, causing the broken Psycho to fall helplessly on the ground.

“Bartender, a Moloko Plus!” The courier ordered the frightened Renesco, before kicking Ghoul while he was down. “It’s going to sharpen me up for a wild night of mindless property damage!”

Because this restart was going to be an espresso.

Short, but intense.

After paying off the Private Security, Ryan moved to Rust Town and stopped his car in front of Paulie’s place. Ghoul’s head and torso were on the backseat, the courier having tossed the rest in a dumpster. As it turned out, the Psycho had great difficulties channeling his ice power without his arms and lower parts.

Or maybe it was learned helplessness at work.

“I have something to confess,” Ryan said, looking at his captive in the rear-view mirror. “I’ve been feeling down lately. The stuff with Len really weighed on my mind, and I still have a lot of work ahead to make up with her. I was aimless, with no main quest or distraction, nor any clear path ahead. I had no distraction to fend off the boredom and existential dread.”

The helpless skeleton looked at him with a mix of abject terror and confusion.

“But now I’m rested!” Ryan said, turning his head to look at the skeleton dead in the eyes. “I’m pumped! I’m on top of my game again, and I’ve got a new main quest! To give your whole gang a wedgie they will never forget!”

“What are you going to do to me?” the Psycho asked, more and more frightened the longer he listened.

“We’re going on a trip to Happyland, my droog!” Ryan grabbed Ghoul’s skull, bringing him close to his own face. “Happyland!”

“Somebody help!” Ghoul shouted, as loud as he could. “Somebody save me!”

But nobody came.

Since it was the loop’s first day, the Meta-Gang hadn’t pressed the shopkeeper into service yet. He raised his eyes at Quicksave, his gaze turning into a glare upon recognizing

old friend!” Ryan announced his unforgettable

shopkeeper raised his archaic rocket launcher at his future client’s face. “You

ooh

the ground with the tip of

for that

out, when Paulie learned what Ryan had

took thirty minutes for the courier to prepare. It wasn’t the first time he did a suicide run, so it was a well-oiled routine, but he only tried that kind of stunt when he didn't risk facing a Genome capable of permanently killing him. While Psyshock was dangerous, the courier was confident he could take the maniac out, or kill himself before being brainjacked.

the Meta had struggled to organize a counterattack when three hundred foot-soldiers had invaded their territory, then logically, they shouldn’t expect a lone

all, who would be mad enough to attack them head-on with no back-up, and

straight for the Junkyard with his trench coat closed to hide the surprise underneath. The rocket launcher waited on the seat next to him, alongside two submachine guns, and the courier had put the Fisty Brothers gauntlets

as the

settle—Ryan thought they simply deserved to be wiped out. They kidnapped children, including orphans under Len’s distant care, enslaved civilians, murdered people without provocation, and just made the world a worse place to live

the same

last loop that settled it. These Psychos were simply too dangerous to be left alone, and Ryan needed to check on that famous bunker for himself. Stealth was a lost cause, from what Shroud

boosted pain tolerance, reaction

increased the risk of strokes, which was why Ryan never took it during normal runs. Thankfully, that wouldn’t be a problem

Junkyard. Stacks of cars, piles of trash, and cranes overshadowed a three meters-tall fence topped with

Psychos protected the entry point in the fence. One was some kind of humanoid lizard, two-meters tall, with scales of various colors. The other was a pale woman, whose whole body, from her long hair to her creased face, were as white as milk;

the car approach, his yellow,

response, Ryan screamed like a berserker and accelerated.

the body letting out a ‘thump’ as it went flying against

with forking twists and turns. The Rampage drug started taking effect, accelerating his heartbeat, sharpening his senses. He quickly crossed paths with a few Psychos scavenging the area, Mongrel

submachine gun, and fired at anyone in his path. The fastest Meta members dived to the ground to dodge a hail of gunfire, but Mongrel took a full volley to the face for

thought life was meaningless, but I was wrong!” Ryan shouted to Ghoul. “It’s your suffering! Causing you pain is my

search of the bunker’s entrance, Ryan heard the sound of bells echo through the Junkyard. Someone had sounded the

shoulders. The same effect as

The Land.

it. The Meta used their new recruit as a sensor, but as Ryan had guessed, it wasn’t a perfect spying method. He doubted anyone could oversee an area as vast as Rust

no welcome committee had interrupted the courier today. This implied that since Ghoul was nearby, the sensor didn’t pay much mind

with driving skills honed over countless loops. The courier guessed the Land couldn’t cause an earthquake inside their

skies. Ryan had expected something like this. Considering her power, Acid Rain was only effective in an open space, and thus would be

a twenty-meter tall tower made of rusted cars, debris, and domestic items like washing machines. As he had thought,

her, Ryan

saw death approaching, and extended his wings. But while he may have the appearance of a genuine bloodsucker, he couldn’t move

let out a final scream, as the Plymouth Fury hit Mosquito head on before he could fly

SQUASH!

his kind: stuck

inside the trash tower, sending pieces of Ghoul flying in all directions. Ryan himself had managed to roll over the ground, but the collision with the ground had torn some of his trench coat. A normal human would have had their skin torn

his feet, the Plymouth Fury buried alongside Mosquito’s remains under

astonishing dexterity, knives raised. Toxic raindrops already fell on the ground, eating at Ryan’s

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