“So, let me get this straight,” Wyvern asked, floating above the street outside Ryan’s hotel bedroom. “You came to New Rome hunting for the Meta-Gang, who managed to uncover a cache of Mechron tech beneath Rust Town. You also strongly believe that someone in Dynamis, probably Hector—namely, my employer—hired them to harass the Augusti.”

“Pretty much, yes.” Ryan nodded, wearing nothing but his underwear.

Wyvern smiled. “Am I being pranked?”

Was it because Ryan refused to wear a shirt? He had been replicating the plans for Vulcan’s armor when the superhero knocked on his window to make her sales pitch. “I would like to joke about it, but no, I’m serious.” The courier raised a thumb up. “Honest.”

Wyvern crossed her arms, a frown on her face. “Do you have any proof? These are dangerous allegations.”

“You can ask Ghoul,” Ryan said, pointing at a cooler next to his bed. “He makes the best ice cream.”

The superheroine’s frown only deepened. “But you didn’t let the Private Security bring him in custody.”

“I won’t surrender my favorite cooler,” Ryan replied. “Or else your incorruptible mooks will let him escape.”

“This meeting is going as well as I thought it would,” Wyvern lamented. “Let’s assume for a second that this isn’t some conspiracy theory and that I believe you. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because somebody trusted you.”

“Somebody?” Wyvern put her hands on her waist. “Quicksave, it will be difficult for us to build a degree of trust if you play your cards close to the chest. All in all, I find your tale rather… flimsy.”

“Well, she said you were naive too,” Ryan said and shrugged.

“I will not set aside what you said, but I only have your word on it. While you have a reputation for reliability, your psych evaluation implies you are highly unstable and prone to attention-seeking behavior.”

“Duh, you can’t make life a comedy without an audience. If you’re alone, it’s just a tragedy.”

Wyvern sighed, before offering Ryan the Dynamis business card anyway. “While I’m not sure you will follow through after what you just said, I suggest you meet with my manager. See if you are a good match, clear this up.”

“I hope he won’t mind if I bring a bottle of weedkiller?”

Wyvern couldn’t help but chuckle in response. “I wouldn’t try if I were you. Enrique isn’t fond of aggressive negotiations.”

And with those unwise words, Dragon Mom flew away and left the courier alone.

She didn’t believe Ryan, but at least the superheroine gave him the benefit of the doubt. It didn’t surprise the courier all that much. Wyvern didn’t know him well yet, and had been doubtful even with Mosquito’s testimony in an earlier loop.

And at long last, Vulcan called immediately afterward.

Ryan briefly hesitated to take the call, worried about how it would go. He eventually braced himself for the impact and answered. “Quicksave Deliveries?”

“What did the bitch tell you?” Vulcan’s encrypted voice asked.

The mere sentence sent a chill down the courier’s spine.

He had heard it before.

“My name is Vulcan,” the caller continued. “I represent the Augusti. We are the organization that runs things in New Rome, and most of Italy. Whatever the winged lizard promised you, we can offer more. We need people who get things done.”

Ryan listened to his former girlfriend the way one did a recording. “I’m sorry, mystery voice,” he interrupted her sales pitch. “But have we met before?”

toying with him, only to

hit him like a

think I would

the last ember of Ryan’s

to check the

Yet, she just did.

More than twice.

pitch the perfect product to rednecks, only

a blue cooler, Ryan faced his meanest

Shroud asked his visitor, a glass shard aimed at Ryan’s throat while his shack’s computer servers hummed in the background. It was so cute, how he thought the courier actually

you get one free, Mechron-made orbital laser!” Ryan opened the box, with Ghoul’s skull glaring at him from within. “Made by Third World children paid five cents

See Through

friend, the sales won’t last forever,” Ryan mocked him. “You’re wasting

“You think knowing my name gives you power?” Shroud threatened. “I was ready to risk discovery when I came to New Rome, and I fear

satellite, called the Baha…”

fractured when he said

his guest’s throat. He sank on his chair in front of the shack’s computers, hands clenched. “Okay,” the vigilante finally said, at a loss of words.

had grown to know the glass

gets his hands on the Bahamut.” The

before. That could only mean one thing. “You believe

Nidhogg, but you haven’t

I’m not naturally outlandish?” Ryan asked with

his fingers fidgeting. The news really had him worried. “Why are you

your Living Sun to hurry up because I can’t destroy the bunker alone.” At least not yet. “What

last outing, the Carnival doesn’t have the numbers to take on the Augusti. We have heavy hitters, but so do

asymmetrical warfare to weed out the enemy if you were in a position of strength? “So, your leader is

old allies, but they can’t leave their own protectorates for long,” Shroud admitted. “Leo didn’t feel confident he

less than two weeks away from success too,” Ryan added, like the cherry on the cake. The Meta-Gang destroyed New Rome on May 18th, though the courier doubted it would happen on the same date again. “Tell your sun

intel…” Shroud joined his hands, his fingers intertwined. “If you are correct, then we

“How long?”

have to argue for hours, but the threat was

deliver on my end of the bargain,” Ryan said while moving towards the door, leaving the boxed Ghoul

trying to shortchange the

don’t do

firmly, much to Ryan’s surprise. “If you are correct and Dynamis hired the Meta-Gang, then this may only be the tip of the iceberg. Wyvern offered you a chance to join Il Migliore. Take it and keep me

on the Augusti? Because I won’t oblige unless I have your

on both the Augusti and Dynamis, if it turns out they’re the Meta-Gang’s employers,” Shroud declared, although it clearly wounded him to admit it. “Augustus is a monster and his business kills thousands each year, but he will sit on his mountain unless challenged. That

you will stop your serial apartment bombing spree until

Through shook his head. “Whatever. You have my word. At least, until Mechron’s legacy is

a Dynamis

was better this way. Ryan wasn’t sure he could stand an Augusti run so soon

false hopes when clearly the odds didn’t favor him. Time and time again, the courier had thought he could confide in

a heavy heart. Hope was

Plymouth Fury, only to find someone had beaten him to

his magnificent blue eyes dazzling Ryan with the splendor of

yes, it was Eugène-Henry. The courier could recognize the noble animal’s lazy, prideful attitude

this moment, and he never

to be petted. So

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