The Perfect Run

Chapter 28

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.

place. Since it was the loop’s first day, the Meta-Gang hadn’t pressed the shopkeeper into service

Paulie my old friend!” Ryan announced his unforgettable presence.

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

I know we had our differences, but ooh boys, Paulie, do I

slammed the ground with the tip of

for that

when Paulie learned what Ryan had planned, he gave away

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. From the intelligence he had gathered over the previous restarts, the Meta didn’t have anyone else capable of threatening future

Since the Meta had struggled to organize a counterattack when three hundred foot-soldiers had invaded their territory,

to attack them head-on with no back-up, and no chance of

Junkyard with his trench coat closed to hide the surprise underneath. The rocket launcher waited on the seat next

shriek of horror, as the courier drove through the streets of Rust Town at

the Meta trashed his car—no score was too small to settle—Ryan thought they simply deserved to be wiped out. They kidnapped children, including orphans under Len’s distant care, enslaved civilians, murdered people

the same

for himself. Stealth was a lost cause, from what Shroud had told him, and the Meta-Gang would quickly organize a defense if a large group

Genius-designed, combat-enhancing drug. It boosted pain tolerance, reaction time, accelerated the production of adrenaline, and hastened the metabolism for four hours. It was powerful enough to affect

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

piles of trash, and cranes overshadowed a three meters-tall fence topped with barbed wires. The metallic items seemed

whole body, from her long hair to her creased face, were as white as milk; her shadow,

car approach, his yellow,

like

a flash of light, but lizard-boy wasn’t so quick. Ryan ran him over, the body

heartbeat, sharpening his senses. He quickly crossed paths with a few Psychos scavenging

fired at anyone in his path. The fastest Meta members dived to the ground

was meaningless, but I was wrong!” Ryan shouted to Ghoul. “It’s your suffering! Causing

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

an invisible pressure weighing on his shoulders. The same effect as during the last loop, before everything went to hell. The

The Land.

settled 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

committee had interrupted the courier today. This implied that since Ghoul was nearby, the sensor didn’t pay much mind to the Plymouth Fury. She

Ryan dodged them with driving skills honed over countless loops. The courier guessed the Land couldn’t cause

the skies. Ryan had expected something like this. Considering her power, Acid

piles to fall and condemn the roads behind him. Eventually, after a wild ride, the courier finally reached a twenty-meter tall tower made of rusted cars,

already drawing two knives. Instead of paying attention to her, Ryan focused on Mosquito. Having emptied the submachine gun, he tossed

extended his wings. But while he may have the appearance of a genuine bloodsucker, he couldn’t move faster than a car racing at two-hundred forty kph. Ryan grabbed the rocket launcher, opened the door, and then jumped

scream, as the Plymouth Fury hit Mosquito head

SQUASH!

the way of his kind: stuck to

managed to roll over the ground, but the collision with the ground had torn some of his trench coat. A normal

Fury buried alongside Mosquito’s remains under a pile of debris. “I will make it up to you

thief!” Acid Rain shrieked, charging at him with astonishing dexterity, knives raised. Toxic raindrops already

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