同章对照

It was May 8th 2020 for the third time, and Ryan had already caused two traffic accidents.

He blamed the people of New Rome for this. The city’s inhabitants were as nervous as coffee addicts in the morning, and drove their cars like monkeys out for his blood. Moving on the walkway would have been safer.

Thankfully, he had saved right before passing the ‘Welcome to New Rome’ sign at the end of the highway linking the city to the rest of the Campania region.

Driving his highly customized red Plymouth Fury, Ryan stopped right before a tank truck would have hit him to the left, dodged a Bliss-addict meth-head, and then finally reached New Rome’s strip.

Owing to its reputation as the largest metropolis in Italy and a ravaged Europe’s capital of sin, New Rome was quite the sight. Built around the shores of the gulf of Naples years after Mechron’s drones bombed it to oblivion, it had the tallest buildings Ryan had seen since the end of the Genome Wars. None held a candle to the Dynamis Tower north of town, a glass spire symbolizing the company’s power over the region; corporate money had built New Rome, a city with no gods nor kings. Only money.

At the left of the driveway, Ryan could see the pristine Mediterranean Sea, glittering with the sunset while a distant island cast a long shadow on the horizon; on his right, he could glance at the countless casinos, gambling dens, and luxury hostels that drew so many tourists to the city. He even glimpsed the famous Colosseum Maximus, a modern replica of the old world’s Colosseum.

This district truly deserved its name of the Golden Coast.

Ryan himself attracted a few glances from tourists since he drove in his Quicksave costume. He covered his adorable face with a metal, mouthless mask with two rounded glasses for eyes, and his black hair beneath a black top hat. Add to that a navy blue trench coat, a purple shirt, blue pants, black gloves, and boots, and you became style incarnate.

The outfit was hot to wear, and not very practical for fighting, but it looked amazing. To Quicksave, that was all that mattered.

As he continued moving north towards his destination, Ryan noticed a few eye-catching publicity boards. One of them portrayed the superheroine Wyvern, a beautiful amazon of a woman with shoulder-length black hair, sharp greyish eyes, and a white bodysuit, showing off her muscles with a green potion in the background.

‘Want to be as strong as Wyvern? With our Hercules Elixir, what Hercules did in twelve labors, you will do in an afternoon!’

‘One hundred thousand euros, only at Dynamis!’

Meh, everyone wanted to be a Genome these days, even the shadow of one. Then again, who could resist superpowers-in-a-can? Ryan hadn’t, although he had taken the real stuff, not a cheap knockoff giving just a fraction of a real superpower.

His life had been a rollercoaster ever since.

Driving in front of a cliff tourist spot and a Miami-like beach, Ryan reached a tourist district, full of bars, nightclubs, and restaurants. The place smelled of drugs and alcohol, but it didn’t look seedy either. The worst neighborhoods were in the north, from what he had heard.

Having memorized the city’s map, Ryan quickly found the place he was looking for; an unremarkable pub located between an Italian restaurant and a closed nightclub. Parking his car nearby, the courier stepped down and opened his trunk.

Never good at organizing stuff, the young man had left all his belongings in a chaotic mess. His tools, computers, and weapons formed a mass of metal almost overflowing from the car; although none compared to his white rabbit plushie, the most devastating tool in his arsenal.

After searching, Ryan quickly found the black briefcase he had been hired to deliver, seized it, closed the trunk, and then entered the pub.

It was something of a cozy place with ten tables, only a third of them occupied. He briefly noticed some Latin muchacho trying to impress his date by levitating a coin in the air—he must have wasted fifty thousand bucks on a knockoff elixir. A balding, wrinkled old man with tanned skin stood behind the counter, looking at the newcomer suspiciously.

“Hello, local humans, I come in peace!” Ryan addressed the carbon-based lifeform called a barman. “Is this Renesco’s Jolie Wrangler?”

The man behind the counter glared at him. “It’s written on the front door. What do you want?”

Why did the bar’s title involve both French and English words, while the barman sounded like a true Italian? Multiculturalism struck again! “Then you must be Renesco!” Ryan handed the poor fellow the briefcase. “I’ve been hired to give you this! It’s full of mushrooms and a bomb, but I didn’t open it this time.”

“This time?” the barman frowned. “Are you…”

“I’m Quicksave,” Ryan introduced himself, tipping his hat. “I’m immortal, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Man, you said it loud enough for everyone to hear!” someone jeered at the back, the few clients laughing.

“That’s your power?” the barman asked, unimpressed. “Immortality?”

“It’s part of a package deal,” Ryan replied.

“Whatever,” Renesco grumbled while he seized the briefcase. “I’ll tell my boss and you should receive your payment soon.”

“Good to hear!” Ryan replied, a hand on the counter. “Hey, look, since I’m here, have you seen a girl called Len? Black hair, blue eyes, Marxist-Leninist?”

“Never heard of her,” the barman said with a shrug. “If you’re looking for a girl, try a brothel.”

“That’s not really the type, but thanks anyway.” Knowing her, Len was probably hiding in some underground Kremlin bunker. “Any place where you can buy custom genius tech? Homemade?”

“Try Rust Town in the north, if you’re brave enough. You can always find interesting stuff at the Junkyard, but it’s full of cutthroats and Psychos nowadays.” The barman looked at Quicksave head to toe. “They’re going to eat you alive.”

Ryan shrugged, while he heard someone enter the bar. The temperature seemed to suddenly drop a few degrees. “Renesco?” the newcomer asked.

“Yes?” the barman replied, frowning.

A second later, an ice spear tore out Renesco’s throat and nailed him to the back wall.

Ryan tried to activate his time-stop, but a sharp icicle hit his chest at astonishing speed. It pierced his bulletproof jacket and his ribs like a spear, then came out on the other side; leaving a gaping hole where the lungs should have been.

The room erupted in screams, as projectiles shredded the tables and clients alike. Struggling against the sharp pain in his chest, Ryan collapsed on the counter but managed to glance at his attacker.

The newcomer removed his hoodie, revealing his face… or rather his lack of one. He looked like a walking, skinless skeleton with vestigial muscles, skeletal fingers, and frozen eyes. An unnatural, chilling mist came out of his mouth and nasal cavities, transforming into ice weapons.

A Genome. Considering his physical mutation, maybe even a Psycho.

“Adam sends his regards,” the killer rasped. The muchacho man in the bar’s back tried to telekinetically throw a chair at him, but the hostile Genome grew an armor of ice over his bones. A few icicles later, the Spanish guy and his date had their face redrawn in a cubic style.

“I will get you…” Ryan dramatically raised a finger at his murderer, blood flowing from his mouth, “on my next save...”

The undead froze him alive with a wave of his hand, and all went dark.

---

It was May 8th 2020 for the fourth time, and Ryan was pissed.

Three times! Three times he had died trying to make this damn delivery!

Then again, that was what he got when not paying attention. With the exception of his save point, his powers needed a conscious action to activate; his enhanced timing sense, in particular, didn’t kick in until after he had lived through events once already.

Ryan didn’t mind dying, since he had gotten used to it after the first two dozen times… but dying so soon? Less than two hours after establishing a save point, three times in a row? His loops usually lasted days, allowing him to try new and interesting stunts; while repeating the same things in quick succession bored him to death.

This meant war.

Ryan entered his autopilot mode, his mind wandering off while his body repeated all the actions of his previous save. He only stopped and regained full consciousness as he reached the bar.

Instead of entering, Ryan remained in his car, waiting for his killer to show up.

He didn’t have to wait long, as the assassin walked out of a street corner, hands in his pockets and his ugly face hidden beneath a hoodie. It said something about New Rome that this crook didn’t draw attention, as he entered the Jolie Wrangler.

There was only one rational, responsible way to act.

Ryan moved the car right in front of the pub, set an ACDC song on the radio, and then smashed the accelerator.

Pedestrians screamed in panic, some leaping out of the way as the car drove into the Wrangler’s entrance. Having been reinforced specifically for this kind of stunt, the Plymouth demolished the wall and hit the assassin from behind before he could attack. The collision propelled the hostile Genome against the counter, like a deer on the road.

Quicksave briefly looked around, in case he had accidentally hit any of the clients; he had been very careful to position himself in an angle with nobody but the assassin on the path, but you could never know. Thankfully, he hadn’t harmed anyone, and the Spanish muchacho was too busy holding his terrified girlfriend in his arms to throw stuff at Ryan.

Good. He wouldn’t have to reload again.

“Hey, guys, I’m Quicksave!” Ryan told the shocked clients, as he stepped down and moved behind his car. “I’m immortal, but don’t tell anyone!”

“I’m calling Security!” Renesco shouted while hiding behind the counter.

“Don’t bother, I will be done in a minute!” Ryan replied before opening his car’s trunk, unconcerned. He looked at his weapons, trying to find the right one for the job.

The pisto-gauntlets? Too intimate.

The gauss rifle? Too quick.

The shotgun? Tempting, but overdone.

The rabbit plushie? Far too powerful.

The baseball bat?

Bat it was.

Ryan whistled while playing with his chosen weapon, approaching the assassin as he rose back to his feet, using the counter as support. Any other person would have died, but all Genomes possessed enhanced physical abilities.

“Who the fuck are you?” the undead assassin hissed angrily, trying to manifest his armor of ice over his body as he did in the last loop, but too stunned to focus. “An Augusti?!”

“Nah, I’m just a courier,” Ryan said, trying to think of a good one-liner. “Sorry, can you give me your name while you still have teeth?”

The skeleton responded by raising his hand, unleashing a volley of ice shards.

In response, Ryan lazily stopped time. The world turned silent, everything gained a purple hue, and the icicles froze in midair.

Eh. Froze. The courier memorized that pun for later.

“Yeah, you took me by surprise last time,” Quicksave said, as he moved around the path of the attack until he was right in front of his target. Neither clients nor the enemy Genome could move, trapped between two seconds. “Not gonna happen again.”

When time resumed and the world regained its colors, the skeleton kissed the aluminum bat intimately. The undead Genome lost a few teeth since his jaw was tight. Must have been his first time.

The attack tossed the killer to his knees, and another strike introduced him face-first to the ground. Ryan started beating him up to the tune of Highway to Hell, singing to himself. Between the shock of being hit by a car at full speed and the blow to the head, the enemy Genome couldn’t mount a resistance. Also, it seemed he had some frozen blood below the bones and vestigial flesh.

“I feel like the healthcare system, beating up a helpless granny.” Ryan shook his head in disgust at the assassin, before hitting him again. “Look at what you made me do!”

The wicked fossil couldn’t offer a good excuse, so Quicksave continued his assault. His unnatural resilience would allow him to survive far worse, and considering he had killed Ryan once, the courier didn’t feel bad beating him up within an inch of his life.

“Drop your weapons!”

Ryan turned around, three men in black riot gear pointing energy rifles at him from behind. They surrounded his car, while they proudly displayed the ouroboros symbol of the Dynamis corporation on their chests; probably members of Private Security. A crowd of civilians had gathered outside the bar, looking at the scene while maintaining a respectful distance. Some had even started taking pictures.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help!” Ryan protested, waving his bloodstained bat in surrender after kicking the assassin with his boot one last time.

“You blew up my bar!” Renesco protested, emerging from behind the counter with a crimson face.

“Oh, you want money?” Quicksave quickly searched inside his trench coat as three red circles appeared on his mask, before bringing out a wad of banknotes worth fifty thousand euros. “Here, have a treat!”

Renesco looked at the money, grabbed it, counted, and then made a conflicted face. “That’s more than enough to pay for the repairs,” he told the guards. “The guy on the floor tried to attack us, the other weirdo came to help.”

“You have a license?” one of the security guards asked Ryan, who shook his head. “You’re a vigilante? An Augusti? Company Genome?”

“Nope!” Ryan replied.

“Well, if you don’t have a license, why shouldn’t we take you into custody alongside that bone guy?”

“What, you want money too?”

And Ryan threw a bribe at him.

The security captain grabbed the wad with one hand, counted while keeping his weapon aimed at Quicksave’s head, then chuckled. “You think you can buy our honor with that?”

Ryan threw him a bigger bribe.

“Better,” the Security guardsman said, putting the money in a pocket full of grenades. He lowered his rifle and had his two compatriots gently grab the assassin, after punching him in the gut. “I’m glad we helped make the neighborhood safer today.”

“Me too,” Ryan replied. “Me too.”

“Renesco?” The captain asked the barman, as his men carried the assassin away. “Don’t forget to pay your monthly subscription. We won’t always be there to protect your establishment.”

And on these wise words, the trio left without looking back.

“Do you always carry wads of money on yourself?” Renesco asked Quicksave, astonished by the surreal scene.

“When you cause as much collateral damage as I do, it’s a real time saver,” Ryan replied, the baseball bat still dripping with blood. “Who was that skeletal fellow anyway?”

“Ghoul, a Psycho from the Meta-Gang. Elixir junkies who have been hitting places like mine recently.” Renesco glared at Ryan, then at his car, and then back at its driver. “Now, get the fuck out of my bar.”

“Uh, not until after I finish the damn delivery.” Ryan handed the briefcase to Renesco, not really caring about the attention he brought on it. Quicksave always delivered; no matter how many deaths needed!

The barman’s eyes flashed with recognition, and then confusion. “I don’t get it,” Renesco said, as he grabbed the briefcase. “You aren’t paid half of what you spent in the last minute.”

“It’s not about the money,” Ryan replied. He looked around as if worried that anyone listened, then whispered into Renesco’s ear.

“I’m just bored.”

The man looked at Ryan in silence, while the courier whistled to himself as he returned to his car, driving under the sunset towards new adventures.

Sidequest, complete!

这是第三次过2020年5月8日，瑞恩已经制造了两起交通事故。

这都得怪新罗马的居民。他们像清早犯了咖啡瘾的人一样焦躁，开起车来活像一群想要他命的猴子。走人行道反倒更安全。

好在他已经存过档，就在驶过高速公路尽头那块“欢迎来到新罗马”的路牌之前。这条公路连接着城市与坎帕尼亚地区的其他地方。

瑞恩驾驶着那辆大幅改装的红色普利茅斯“狂怒”，及时刹车，躲过一辆险些从左侧撞上来的罐车，又避开一个迷上了“极乐”的冰毒瘾君子，终于驶进了新罗马的繁华地段。

新罗马不愧是意大利最大的都市，也是饱经蹂躏的欧洲的罪恶之都，眼前的景象着实壮观。梅克隆的无人机将此地夷为平地数年后，这座城市沿着那不勒斯湾的海岸兴建起来。城中的高楼，是瑞恩自基因者战争结束以来见过最高的。可它们都无法与城北的迪纳米斯大厦相比。那座玻璃尖塔，正是公司在这一带权势的象征；新罗马由企业的金钱筑成，城里没有神，也没有国王。只有钱。

道路左侧，澄澈的地中海映着夕阳闪闪发亮，远处一座岛屿在天际投下长长的阴影；右侧则是数不清的赌场、赌窟和豪华旅舍，吸引着游客纷至沓来。他甚至瞥见了著名的马克西穆斯斗兽场——依照旧世界的罗马斗兽场仿建的现代建筑。

这一带叫作黄金海岸，确实名副其实。

瑞恩本人也引来了游客的几番侧目，毕竟他开车时穿着快存的全套行头。他那张可爱的脸藏在一副没有嘴部开口的金属面具后，眼睛的位置装着两片圆形镜片，黑发则收在一顶黑色高顶礼帽底下。再配上藏蓝色风衣、紫衬衫、蓝裤子、黑手套和黑靴子，整个人便是时尚的化身。

这身行头穿着闷热，打架也不怎么方便，但好看得要命。对快存来说，这就够了。

继续向北驶往目的地时，瑞恩注意到了几块醒目的广告牌。其中一块上是女超级英雄双足飞龙。她是个亚马逊女战士般高大健美的美人，黑发齐肩，灰色的眼睛目光锐利，身穿白色紧身衣，正秀出一身肌肉，背景是一瓶绿色药剂。

“想像双足飞龙一样强大吗？有了我们的赫拉克勒斯灵药，赫拉克勒斯的十二项功业，您一个下午就能完成！”

“十万欧元，迪纳米斯独家发售！”

啧，现在谁都想当基因者，哪怕只当个缩水版也行。可话说回来，谁抵挡得住罐装超能力的诱惑呢？瑞恩反正没能抵挡，虽说他用的是真货，不是那种只能赋予一点点超能力的廉价仿制品。

从那以后，他的人生就坐上了过山车。

驶过一处悬崖景点和一片颇有迈阿密风情的海滩，瑞恩来到了一片遍布酒吧、夜店与餐馆的旅游区。这里弥漫着毒品和酒精的气味，看上去倒不怎么破败。据他听说，最糟糕的街区都在北边。

瑞恩已经记住了城市地图，很快就找到了要去的地方：一家不起眼的小酒吧，夹在意大利餐馆和一家关门的夜店之间。这位送货员把车停在附近，下车打开了后备厢。

这年轻人向来不善整理，所有家当都堆得乱七八糟。工具、电脑和武器挤成一堆金属，几乎要从车里溢出来；不过，它们全都比不上那只白兔毛绒玩偶。那才是他整个军火库里破坏力最强的家伙。

翻找片刻，瑞恩很快找到了受雇要送的黑色公文包。他一把提起包，关上后备厢，走进酒吧。

店里还算舒适，摆着十张桌子，只有三分之一坐了人。瑞恩瞥见一个拉丁裔小伙正让一枚硬币飘在空中，好在约会对象面前显摆——他准是在仿制灵药上白扔了五万块。吧台后站着个头发稀疏、皮肤黝黑、满脸皱纹的老头，正疑心重重地打量着新来的客人。

“本地的人类，你们好！我为和平而来！”瑞恩向那种名叫酒保的碳基生命体打招呼，“这里是雷内斯科的俏牛仔（Jolie Wrangler）吗？”

吧台后的人瞪了他一眼。“门上写着呢。你想干什么？”

酒保明明一口地道的意大利腔，店名怎么还把法语和英语掺在了一起？多元文化又来作怪了！“那你肯定就是雷内斯科了！”瑞恩把公文包递给这个可怜人，“有人雇我把这个交给你！里面全是蘑菇，还装着一颗炸弹，不过这次我没打开。”

“这次？”酒保皱起眉头，“你是……”

“我是快存。”瑞恩扶着帽檐一礼，介绍自己，“我是不死之身，不过别告诉别人。”

“哥们儿，你喊这么大声，谁没听见啊！”后头有人起哄，几个客人跟着笑了起来。

“那就是你的能力？”酒保不以为然地问，“长生不死？”

“只是套餐里的一项。”瑞恩答道。

“随便吧。”雷内斯科嘟囔着接过公文包，“我会跟老板说一声，你应该很快就能拿到报酬。”

“那就好！”瑞恩一只手搭着吧台，“对了，来都来了，问你个事。见过一个叫蕾恩的姑娘吗？黑头发，蓝眼睛，马克思列宁主义者？”

“没听说过。”酒保耸耸肩，“要找姑娘就去妓院试试。”

“不是要找那种姑娘，不过还是谢了。”按她的性子，蕾恩八成躲在某个克里姆林宫地下掩体里。“哪儿能买到定制的天才科技产品？自己动手做的那种？”

“胆子够大，就去北边的锈镇试试。废料场总能找着些有意思的东西，不过现在那儿到处是亡命徒和疯魔。”酒保把快存从头到脚打量了一遍，“他们会把你活吃了。”

瑞恩耸了耸肩，听见有人走进酒吧。气温仿佛突然降了几度。“雷内斯科？”来人问。

“什么事？”酒保皱眉应道。

一秒后，一根冰枪撕穿了雷内斯科的喉咙，将他钉在了身后的墙上。

瑞恩正要暂停时间，一根尖锐的冰锥却以惊人的速度命中了他的胸口。它如长枪般刺穿防弹衣和肋骨，从背后穿出，在本该长着肺的地方留下了一个大洞。

惨叫声在屋里炸开，桌子和客人一起被飞射的冰锥撕碎。瑞恩强忍着胸口的剧痛，瘫倒在吧台上，还是挣扎着朝袭击者瞥了一眼。

来人拉下兜帽，露出了自己的脸……确切地说，他根本没有脸。这东西活像一具会走路的剥皮骷髅，骨架上只残留着少许肌肉，十指嶙峋，双眼冰封。一股不自然的寒雾从他的口鼻涌出，化作一件件冰制武器。

一个基因者。看这身体变异的模样，搞不好还是个疯魔。

“亚当向你们问好。”杀手嘶哑地说。酒吧后头那个小伙试图用念力把椅子砸向他，对方却在骨头上生出了一层冰甲。几根冰锥过后，那西班牙小伙和女伴的脸，就被重画成了立体派风格。

“我一定会收拾你……”瑞恩口中涌着血，戏剧性地抬起一根手指，指向杀死自己的人，“等我下次读档……”

那活死人一挥手，将他活活冻住。一切归于黑暗。

---

这是第四次过2020年5月8日，瑞恩火大极了。

三次！就为了送这该死的一单，他已经死了三次！

不过，这也是他不留神的下场。除存档点之外，他的各种能力都得有意识地发动；尤其是那种增强的时机感，非得先亲身经历过一遍事件，才能发挥作用。

瑞恩不介意死，毕竟最初死过二十四次之后，他就已经习惯了……可死得这么快？设下存档点还不到两个小时，就死了，连着三次？他的一轮循环通常能持续好几天，够他尝试些新鲜有趣的花样；这样短时间内不断重复同样的事情，实在无聊得要命。

这是宣战。

瑞恩进入了自动驾驶模式：意识神游天外，身体则重复着上个存档里做过的一切。直到来到酒吧门口，他才停下来，彻底回过神。

这次他没有进去，而是留在车里，等杀死自己的家伙现身。

没等多久，那个杀手就从街角转了出来，双手插兜，丑脸藏在兜帽底下。就这么个货色走进俏牛仔，居然没引来任何人的注意，新罗马是什么地方，可想而知。

理智而负责的做法，只有一种。

瑞恩把车开到酒吧正门前，打开收音机，选了首AC/DC的歌，然后一脚踩死油门。

汽车径直撞进酒吧门口，行人惊声尖叫，有人纵身跳开。那辆普利茅斯专为这类把戏加固过，撞塌墙壁，赶在杀手动手之前从背后撞上了他。那基因者活像公路上被车撞中的鹿，直飞向吧台。

快存迅速环顾四周，确认有没有误撞客人。他已经格外小心地选好了角度，确保车子前进的路上只有杀手一人，不过这种事总难说。幸好，他没伤到任何人，那个西班牙小伙也正忙着搂住吓坏了的女友，顾不上往瑞恩身上扔东西。

很好。不用再读档了。

“各位好，我是快存！”瑞恩下了车，绕到车尾，向目瞪口呆的客人们说道，“我是不死之身，不过别告诉别人！”

“我要叫安保了！”雷内斯科躲在吧台后喊道。

“别费事，一分钟就完！”瑞恩满不在乎地答了一句，打开后备厢，打量起自己的武器，准备挑件顺手的。

活塞拳套？太亲密了。

高斯步枪？太快了。

霰弹枪？有点心动，不过太老套。

兔子玩偶？威力太大了。

棒球棍？

就棒球棍了。

瑞恩吹着口哨，摆弄着选好的武器，走向正撑着吧台爬起来的杀手。换了别人早就死了，但所有基因者都拥有强化过的体能。

“你他妈是谁？”那活死人杀手嘶声怒问，想像上一轮那样给全身裹上冰甲，却还晕得厉害，集中不起精神。“奥古斯蒂家族的人？！”

“不是，我就是个送货的。”瑞恩说，脑子里正搜罗着一句漂亮的俏皮话，“不好意思，趁你还有牙，能告诉我你叫什么吗？”

骷髅抬起手，一片冰刃齐射而出，这就是他的回答。

瑞恩懒洋洋地暂停了时间。世界陷入寂静，一切都染上了紫色，冰锥也冻结在半空。

哈，冻结。送货员记下这个双关，留着以后用。

“没错，上次让你打了个措手不及。”快存绕开冰锥飞来的路线，走到目标正面。客人也好，敌对的基因者也好，全都被困在前一秒与后一秒之间，动弹不得。“不会再有下次了。”

时间重新流动，世界恢复了色彩，骷髅便与铝制球棍来了个亲密的吻。他牙关咬得太紧，这位活死人基因者一下就掉了几颗牙。肯定是头一回。

这一棒打得杀手跪倒在地，下一棒又让他的脸与地面打了个招呼。瑞恩跟着《通往地狱的公路》的节拍揍起人来，嘴里还哼着歌。先被全速行驶的汽车撞中，又挨了当头一棒，这个敌对的基因者已经无力反抗。另外，他的骨头和残存的血肉底下，似乎还有些冻住的血。

“我现在简直像医疗体系，在这儿毒打毫无还手之力的老太太。”瑞恩嫌恶地冲杀手摇摇头，又打了一棒。“看看，你都逼我干了些什么！”

这具邪恶的老化石拿不出像样的理由，快存只好继续揍。他的身体强韧得不合常理，就算挨上更狠的也能活下来。再说，他已经杀过瑞恩一次，送货员把他打个半死，毫无心理负担。

“放下武器！”

瑞恩转过身。三个穿着黑色防暴装备的人正从背后用能量步枪指着他。他们围住了他的车，胸口赫然佩着迪纳米斯集团的衔尾蛇标志，多半是私人安保队的人。酒吧外已经围了一群平民，识趣地隔着一段距离看热闹。有些人甚至开始拍照了。

“喂，我只是想帮忙！”瑞恩抗议道。他用靴子最后踹了杀手一脚，随后挥着血淋淋的球棍，表示投降。

“你把我的酒吧拆了！”雷内斯科从吧台后探出身来，满脸通红地抗议。

“哦，你想要钱？”快存迅速往风衣里摸去，三个红色光圈同时出现在他的面具上。他掏出一沓总值五万欧元的钞票。“喏，拿去买点好吃的！”

雷内斯科盯着钞票，接过来数了数，表情变得十分纠结。“这些付修缮费绰绰有余。”他对安保说道，“地上那个想袭击我们，这个怪人是来帮忙的。”

“你有执照吗？”一名安保问瑞恩。瑞恩摇头。“你是义警？奥古斯蒂家族的人？公司的基因者？”

“都不是！”瑞恩答道。

“那好，既然没执照，我们凭什么不把你和那个骨头架子一起带回去？”

“怎么，你也想要钱？”

于是瑞恩扔了一笔贿赂过去。

安保队长单手接住那沓钱，一边数，一边还拿枪指着快存的脑袋，接着嗤笑了一声。“这点钱，就想买我们的荣誉？”

瑞恩又扔过去一笔更大的贿赂。

“这还差不多。”安保把钱塞进装满手榴弹的口袋。他放下步枪，朝杀手肚子上捶了一拳，再让另外两位同僚温柔地把人架起来。“很高兴今天又为街区的安全出了把力。”

“我也是。”瑞恩答道，“我也是。”

手下架着杀手离开时，队长转向酒保：“雷内斯科？别忘了缴每个月的订阅费。我们可不是随时都能来保护你的店。”

留下这番至理名言，三人头也不回地走了。

“你身上一直带着这么一沓沓的钱？”雷内斯科被这荒诞的一幕惊呆了，向快存问道。

“要是你跟我一样，总惹出一大堆连带损失，就知道这有多省时间了。”瑞恩答道，手里的棒球棍还在滴血。“话说，刚才那个骷髅架子到底是谁？”

“食尸鬼，超能帮的疯魔。一帮灵药瘾君子，最近没少袭击我这样的店。”雷内斯科瞪着瑞恩，又看了看他的车，接着再瞪回司机脸上。“现在，他妈的，滚出我的酒吧。”

“呃，那不行，得先把这该死的一单送完。”瑞恩把公文包递给雷内斯科，压根儿不在意自己给这只包招来了多少注意。快存一定把东西送到，死多少次都不例外！

酒保眼里先是闪过一丝恍然，随即又浮起困惑。“我搞不懂。”雷内斯科接过公文包，“你的报酬，还不到刚才这一分钟花掉的钱的一半。”

“不是为了钱。”瑞恩说。他左右看了看，仿佛怕被人听见，随后凑到雷内斯科耳边低语。

“我就是无聊。”

酒保一言不发地望着瑞恩。送货员独自吹着口哨回到车上，驶入夕阳，奔向新的冒险。

支线任务，完成！

八月初九，阮行舟第三次来到归潮。

前两次都死在路上。一次是油罐车，一次是个吞了极乐散的疯子。归潮人赶起路来，个个像家里有皇位要继承，偏偏这地方已经二十来年没有皇帝了。

好在进城之前，他留了个刻。

就在那块写着“归潮欢迎诸位”的界碑外。碑上的金字很新，底下压着半截旧御道，草从石缝里长出来。

阮行舟松开进汽杆，让红色火轮车慢了下来。一辆油罐车从左边岔路冲过，罐尾擦掉他车头半点漆。他看了眼那道白痕，决定这一回先不计较。再往前二十丈，一个满脸痘疮的男人果然撞开行人，翻过护栏，向他扑来。

他转了半圈舵轮。男人抱住路边的灯柱，亲热地啃了起来。

“愿二位百年好合。”阮行舟说。

车子沿海湾驶入金岸。左边是海，夕照铺在水上，远处的岛压着一线淡黑的影子。右边尽是酒楼、赌场和挂满彩灯的旅舍。高架汽管从楼与楼之间穿过，每到路口，便套上一层镂花铜罩，罩上蹲着狻猊，嘴里不断吐出白汽。游客仰头拍照，不大在意它们正在排泄。

这座城曾被战时的无人兵机犁过一遍。海里还能看见旧城墙的顶，涨潮时，水从残破的箭窗里进出。新城却很高，最高的是北边天衡总号的琉璃塔，细长的一根，插在夕阳里，塔顶悬着衔尾蛇的徽记。

归潮的水、电、药、城钞，多半从那徽记底下出来。

阮行舟经过一座旧水闸。闸楼上的“奉敕永济”四个字没有铲，下面新钉了块牌：欠费停水，概不赊延。一个白胡子的司炉匠正拿长柄扳手敲阀门，敲三下，听一会儿，再敲三下。闸后的巨轮还在转。

街边有人看他。他朝那边抬了抬帽檐。

他的帽子高而窄，黑缎面，里头藏着东西；藏的什么不必深究，主要是好看。脸上扣着一副没有嘴的银灰面具，两片圆镜充作眼睛。外面是靛蓝长衣，里面是紫衫，黑手套，黑靴子。衣摆开了长衩，坐车时不会压出难看的褶。

这身行头闷热，打起架也有点碍事。世上没有十全十美的东西，除了穿着它的阮行舟。

前方的巨幅影幕上，一个白衣女人正挽起袖子，露出结实的手臂。她黑发及肩，灰眼锐利，身后摆着一瓶绿得发亮的药液。

“想有飞廉这样的力气？”喇叭里的声音压过车轮，“天衡拔山液，一瓶下肚，百夫之勇。搬山何须十二载，只争一个下午！”

幕角滚过一行小字：十万贯起，详询各号。

阮行舟瞥了一眼。仿髓。

人人都想成为饮髓者，买不起真的，买一点剩下的威风也好。只须拔掉瓶塞，便有希望把从前踩着自己的人举起来。这样的买卖，很难冷清。

他自己当年也没忍住。不过他喝的是真货，后劲一直到今天。

离开海边，巷道窄了些。酒味、脂粉味和极乐散烧过的甜腻气息，混在厨房排出的油烟里。这里还不算坏地方。更北边的事，游客通常不问，旅舍的伙计也不主动讲。

阮行舟早把城图记熟，很快找到俏驴酒馆。一边是面馆，一边是停业的歌楼，酒馆夹在当中，招牌上那头驴画得很有见识，正拿鼻孔看人。

他停好车，掀开后厢。

一根撬棍当啷落下。

他的全部家当堆在里面：工具、算匣、药瓶、枪、线圈，还有不宜受潮、不宜受热、不宜让两者碰在一起的东西。最上面坐着一只白兔布偶，耳朵一长一短，肚子脏了半边。

阮行舟先扶稳兔子，再伸手往里翻。满厢东西里，这只兔子最惹不起。

片刻后，他找出一只黑漆提箱，夹在腋下，关上厢盖。

酒馆里有十张桌子，坐了三桌客人。靠窗的青年正让一枚城钱悬在指尖上，向对面的姑娘炫耀。铜钱升起来又落下，升起来又落下，姑娘已经看第三回了，仍肯笑，想来是个厚道人。

五万贯左右的仿髓。阮行舟估了个价。这些钱本来够他们去外海玩一趟。

柜台后站着个头顶稀疏的老男人，皮肤晒得很深，正在擦杯子。

“诸位活人，晚上好。”阮行舟说，“任九掌柜在吗？”

老男人抬起眼。“门上写着。”

“那就好。路上死了人，差点耽误您的东西。”

他把箱子搁在柜台上，往前一推。

“菌子和炸弹。放心，这回我没拆。”

掌柜擦杯子的手停了。

“什么叫这回？”

“我叫留一手。”阮行舟欠身，摘下帽子又戴回去，“死不了。替我保密。”

后头有人笑。“你喊得后厨都听见了！”

“所以得请大家一块儿保。”

任九打量着他的面具。“喝过髓的？本事就是死不了？”

“搭着送的。还有几样，小本经营，不便全说。”

任九似乎不愿多问，把黑箱收到了柜下。“我跟上头说一声，钱会打给你。”

“多谢。顺便打听个人，林澜，跟我差不多年纪，黑头发，蓝眼睛。总说矿山、炉子、粮仓应该归干活的人共有。”

“没听说过。”

“也叫小澜。”

“找姑娘往隔壁走。这家关了，再过两条巷还有。”

“她不做这个。”阮行舟摸了摸柜台上的旧刀痕，“哪儿能买到天工私造的东西？不走商号，手制的。”

任九终于把杯子放下。

“北边锈坊。进渣坑问，什么都有，就看你带不带得出来。最近那地方全是割喉咙的和狂变的。”他看了眼阮行舟干净的袖口，“你这身好衣裳，够他们分一分。”

阮行舟正想问渣坑收不收兔子，门开了。

柜台边的铜壶轻轻响了一声。壶嘴挂着的水珠变成了白的。

“任九？”来人问。

“什么事？”

一根冰矛从掌柜的喉咙穿过去，把他钉在后头的酒柜上。

阮行舟脑中刚起了停时的念头，胸口就先凉了。一截冰穿透防弹衬层，折断肋骨，从背后钻出去。他低头，看见紫衫中央裂了一个大洞，血涌出来，却吸不进气。

耳边全是尖叫。桌子被掀翻，瓷碟炸开，他扶住柜沿，手掌还是滑了下去。

来人摘掉兜帽，露出一颗没有皮的头。冻白的骨骼上挂着几绺肌肉，眼窝里有冰蓝色的东西。寒雾从他的口鼻涌出，在指间结成新的尖刺。

饮髓者。变成这副模样，多半还是个狂变者。

“元生向你问好。”那人说。

靠窗的青年站了起来。一张椅子摇摇晃晃地升空，撞向凶手。那层骨骼上立刻覆起冰甲，椅子碎了。下一瞬，青年和姑娘一同向后倒去，墙上留下两道鲜红的痕迹。

阮行舟勉强抬起一根手指。

“你等着……我下一回……”

寒气裹住他，冻住血、牙齿和没说完的话。

世界黑了。

---

八月初九，阮行舟第四次来到归潮。

他攥着舵轮，半天没说话。

送个箱子，死三回。离留刻还不到一个时辰。搁以前，一个时辰连一场像样的乱子都没热起来。

倒不是怕死。死过几十次以后，这事就不太新鲜了。令他难受的是重复：同一条路，同一个缺了半边的界碑，同一辆油罐车，连司机骂娘的字眼都不肯换。

他能在死后自动回来，别的本事却得自己动念。那种准得要命的时辰感，也须事情先发生过一回，才能告诉他下一刻会怎么样。头一次挨冰矛，他与寻常倒霉蛋没有太大差别。

现在有了。

阮行舟松开进汽杆，让过油罐车，绕开与灯柱相恋的男人。一路上，他想着该怎么招待酒馆里的新朋友，手脚倒把刚才的路走得分毫不差。

到俏驴门前，他没有下车。

很快，一个穿灰色罩衣的人从巷角走来，双手插在兜里，低头进了酒馆。街上没有人多看他一眼。归潮的见识果然很广。

阮行舟将车挪到正对店门的位置，偏了少许角度。

他记得桌子在哪里，人在哪里。那条线会擦过空桌，撞上柜台外的凶手。稍往左，姑娘就要再死一次；稍往右，任九的腿会断。

他把车上的唱机拨响。旧军乐经过不知谁的胡改，鼓点快得像司炉工讨薪，唱词一句比一句不宜公放。

阮行舟踩下踏板。

红车的撞角掀开门板，连半面砖墙一同推了进去。木屑打在挡风镜上，车架猛地一震。灰衣人刚抬起手，便被撞得飞过两张桌子，砸在柜台前。

阮行舟刹住车，先扫了一眼四周。

任九蹲在柜台后。青年抱着姑娘缩进墙角。其余客人都在原处，有人脸上落了灰，没人见血。

很好。不必再来一趟。

“诸位晚上好，我叫留一手。”他推门下车，“死不了。替我保密。”

“我叫巡安队！”任九在柜台后喊。

“也行，叫他们慢一点，我这儿很快。”

阮行舟走到车后，掀开厢盖，开始挑东西。

袖炮太近，线圈枪太快，短铳又有些乏味。白兔坐在那儿，安安静静的。他伸手把兔子的脸转向里面。

孩子别看。

最后，他抽出一根铝合金球棒。是从旧球场捡来的，后来拿来敲过许多不属于球的东西，握着很顺手。

灰衣人扶着柜台站起，颈骨还歪着。一层薄冰从肋骨间生出来，又哗啦碎掉。车撞得够狠，他暂时没法聚拢心神。

换成普通人，早就没了。饮髓者都要结实些，这位尤其舍不得死。

“你是哪家的？”凶手嘶声问，“岳家？”

“递东西的。”阮行舟掂了掂球棒，“趁你还能说整话，贵姓？”

回答他的是一蓬冰刺。

阮行舟停住了时间。

鼓声断了。飞来的碎冰悬在面前，冰里裹着一点细小的血。酒馆失去颜色，只剩深浅不同的紫。青年张着嘴，姑娘的手攥在他衣襟上；一片门板停在落地之前，断口的木丝根根分明。

阮行舟从冰刺旁绕过去，走到凶手面前。

“刚才那个不算。”他说，“再来。”

颜色回到屋里时，球棒也到了。

凶手的下颌被打偏，两颗牙飞出去，叮叮落在车盖上。他跪下，后脑又挨了一下，脸贴住地砖。阮行舟顺着唱机的鼓点打下去，不快，也没停。灰衣下有冻住的血，被敲碎后，颜色比寻常的深。

“老大一个人，学人堵门。”他打了一棒，“还挑我送东西的时候。”

地上的人试着抬手，黑靴踩住了腕骨。

阮行舟不是十分生气。他就是想把剩下的一点气也出完。以这副身子的结实程度，对方离死还早。

“放下兵器！”

他转过头。三个黑甲巡安队员站在红车旁，胸前都是天衡的衔尾蛇，手里的电束枪端得很平。店外已经围了一圈人，有人举着摄影片，有人忙着把小孩往前抱，好看得清楚些。

阮行舟先补了一脚，再举起球棒。

“自己人。为民除害。”

“你把我店拆了！”任九站起来，指着那面不存在的墙。

“钱的事？早说。”

阮行舟往怀里一摸，三道红点立刻落在面具上。他慢慢抽出一沓城钞，搁上只剩半截的柜台。

“五万。墙砌厚点。”

任九接过去，先验水印，再数，最后看了眼地上的人。脸色变了几次。

“够了。”他说，声音低了些，“那骨头架子进来要杀我。他……是来帮忙的。”

为首的巡安队员没有收枪。

“行侠执照？”

“没有。”

“岳家的人？天衡雇员？”

“都不是。”

“那就得跟我们走。街面动武，损毁铺面，擅带——”

一沓城钞落在他脚边。

队长低头看了一眼，仍然端着枪。“你当我们是什么人？”

阮行舟又掏出一沓，更厚些。

队长腾出左手，把两沓都捡起来，用拇指拨过钞边，塞进了腰侧装震爆弹的皮囊。

“今日处置及时，没酿成大祸。”他说。

“可不是。”阮行舟说。

两个队员过去架起凶手。其中一个先往他肚子上擂了一拳，让那副骨架折下腰，好从车与柜台之间拖出去。

队长走到门口，又回过头。

“老任，下个月的巡安订费早些交。不是每回出事，我们都正好在附近。”

任九没有说话。

等三个人走远，他才问：“你出门总带这么多钱？”

“我撞坏的东西多。现结省事。”阮行舟看了眼还在滴血的球棒，“刚才那位叫什么？”

“寒骸。蜕帮的狂变者。这阵子专找我们这样的铺子。”任九瞪着他，再看看车，“现在，带你的家当，滚。”

“等一下，正事还没办。”

阮行舟回到后厢，取出黑漆提箱。

他把箱子放到柜台上。提手完好，封口完好，一路走得很不容易，好歹到了。

任九认出封记，怔了片刻。

“你就是来送这个？”

“如约送达。”

“这趟脚钱，还没有你刚才花出去的一半。”

阮行舟凑近他，像要说一桩比不死还大的秘密。

“我又不缺钱。”

“那你图什么？”

他朝掌柜眨了眨眼，可惜面具挡着，没有收到应有的效果。

“闲得慌。”

红车从碎砖里倒出来，碾过半块俏驴招牌，驶进尚未落尽的晚霞。阮行舟跟着唱机哼歌，在心里把这桩小差事勾掉。

总算办完了一件。