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.

welcomed him with a shotgun past the door. In fact, the garage didn’t

housed several

Two air conditioners worked to cool them down while wires went through a hole in the ground, probably

graveyard through the windows easily enough, yet he had seen none of these servers from the outside. There was definitely an

recent development. They must have spent weeks, if not months, setting

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

they wanted

the courier froze time, opened the bag of flour, and rotated on himself. He sprayed the

torso appeared right behind him, standing in a corner with a partially visible

Here you are.

As time resumed, the figure froze as they found itself

move faster than your finger on the trigger,” Invisiboy replied, his voice muffled by his strange

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

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

replied. He tried to identify the voice, but the suit muffled it too much. “I don’t think we

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

That explained a lot of his organization’s success if the Carnival had a hidden operative of his caliber. “What should I call

blue glass, from head to toe; the substance prevented Ryan from seeing anything. The armor was completely shapeless, the face round like a featureless doll. It made

around his armor, perhaps using the same process used in lenticular technologies. The courier could barely fathom the

some powerful

call me the Shroud.” The glass man tilted his head to the side. “And if you haven’t shot me in your ‘frozen time,’ I

flour bag

onto the ground; his face now looked like that of

was highly immature,” the assassin said, dusting

killed Ryan twice; the courier had earned the right to be petty. “Don’t blame me if I keep my weapon drawn,” the time-manipulator said since his current host’s sword remained ever threatening.

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

assume you must have hacked into Dynamis

be honest, I’m surprised you even managed to track me down. I was very careful not to

in the mood to enlighten him, especially after he killed the courier twice. “Why did

walked towards the screens, ignoring the gun pointed at his head, and sat on the chair. “As far as I know, the two

And maybe so far, I didn’t see anything that justified killing him. Heck, he’s

his hands, the posture reminding Ryan of Enrique Manada. “Do you

“Candies?”

all over Italy, Spain, France, Turkey,

“Your point?”

more harm than good,” the Genome declared. “And even if he killed no one personally, by protecting this shipment, Zanbato indirectly

Ryan coughed, “You will reduce violence by committing

some level, the vigilante seemed to recognize the hypocrisy involved, because he hung back in his chair, thoughtful. Ryan couldn’t see his body language with the armor on,

it,” he admitted. “I really, really don’t. I would prefer to talk it out, or put criminals in jail. No matter what people say, you never get used to killing.

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

nothing. The Augusti’s Capos can attempt to murder someone in broad daylight and walk out with a pat on the back. There is no government to keep them in jail, and Dynamis is too afraid of Augustus to

a point, but there was a glaring flaw in his argument. “Well, good luck trying to kill the invincible man then. It’s not like

needs infrastructures, soldiers, and money to exert his influence; take away his subjects, and a king is simply a man wearing a

gut telling him something was missing. “Things have been somewhat

Shroud pointed out. “There is a war brewing between this city’s factions. A disaster that may spark a new round of Genome Wars and

you’re pursuing your Perfect Run

Ryan’s delight, Shroud seemed to understand the reference. “You could say that, but there is no perfect ending, Quicksave. Only the best for a certain

killed? There was

have one?” Shroud asked, sounding a little hopeful. “Because I’m drawing a blank

this time,” Ryan replied. “But I

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 Augusti’s operations without killing

Punisher immune to diplomacy attempts. Ryan could