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.

car, wielding his cane, and waltzed 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

Paulie my old friend!” Ryan announced his

launcher at his future client’s face. “You

differences, but ooh boys, Paulie, do

ground with the tip of his

much for

learned what Ryan had planned, he gave away the rocket launcher

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

mad enough to attack them head-on with no back-up, and

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

hood, Ghoul let out a shriek of horror, as the courier drove through the

deserved to be wiped out. They kidnapped children, including orphans under Len’s distant care, enslaved

the

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. A lone wolf suicide attack, fast and unpredictable, seemed more likely to succeed in

drug. It boosted pain tolerance, reaction time, accelerated the production of adrenaline,

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

view of the Junkyard. Stacks of cars, piles of trash, and cranes overshadowed a

colors. The other was a pale woman, whose whole body, from her long hair to her creased face, were as white as milk;

car approach,

response, Ryan screamed like a

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

quickly crossed paths with a few Psychos scavenging the area, Mongrel among them. The mutant raised his head in shock upon seeing him approach, his teeth

members dived to the ground to dodge a hail

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

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

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

The Land.

it wasn’t a perfect spying method. He doubted

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

the Plymouth Fury, though Ryan dodged them with driving skills honed over countless loops. The courier guessed

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

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. As he had thought, the base of

her, Ryan focused on Mosquito. Having emptied the submachine gun, he tossed it through the window, then drove

the appearance of a genuine bloodsucker, he couldn’t move faster

scream, as the Plymouth Fury hit Mosquito head on

SQUASH!

way of his kind:

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

to his feet, the Plymouth Fury buried

shrieked, charging at him with astonishing dexterity, knives raised. Toxic raindrops already fell on the ground,

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