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.

into Paulie’s place. 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

friend!” Ryan announced his unforgettable

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

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

the ground with the tip of his

for that

out, when Paulie learned what Ryan had planned, he gave

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

early. Since the Meta had struggled

enough to attack them head-on with no

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 on

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

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 without provocation, and just made

the same for

bunker 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 moved into their territory.

the junkyard, Ryan briefly raised his mask to consume red pills. They were doses of Rampage, a 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

made the user vomit for days and increased the risk of strokes, which was why Ryan never took it during normal runs. Thankfully, that

of trash, and cranes overshadowed a

whose whole body, from her long hair

the car approach, his yellow, reptilian eyes widening upon

screamed like

him over, the body letting out a ‘thump’ as it went flying against the fence nearby, his body jolting

sharpening his senses. He quickly crossed paths with a few Psychos scavenging the area, Mongrel among them. The

a 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

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

in search of the bunker’s entrance, Ryan heard the sound of bells echo

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

The Land.

wasn’t a perfect spying method. He doubted anyone could oversee

during the visit to Paulie's place. Mosquito ambushed him the last time Ryan went there, but no welcome committee had interrupted the courier today. This implied that since Ghoul was nearby, the

tremble and rain debris on the Plymouth Fury, though Ryan dodged them with driving skills honed over countless loops. The courier guessed the

power, Acid Rain was only effective in an open space, and thus would be assigned to

center, Ryan tossed grenades behind him, causing trash 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, debris, and domestic items like washing machines.

two knives. Instead of paying attention to her, Ryan focused on Mosquito. Having emptied the submachine gun, he tossed it through the window, then drove straight

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

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

SQUASH!

of his kind: stuck to a

its course 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.

back to his feet, the Plymouth Fury buried alongside Mosquito’s remains under a pile of debris. “I will make it up

knives raised. Toxic raindrops already fell on the ground, eating at Ryan’s hat. “I’ll tear

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