同章对照

It had been a while since Ryan drove a group in his Plymouth Fury.

He often transported one or two people, especially when on a drunken bender or working as a getaway driver, but rarely a group like this one. Jamie wore his power armor in the back, while Ki-jung dressed with a green hoodie at his side. Her rats had taken over every corner of the car, hiding behind and beneath the seats.

Unfortunately, Lanka complained all the way at the front. “You cheated, blabbermouth,” she accused Ryan. She would have gone to the meeting with her bike too, had Jamie not insisted they all travel in the same vehicle for team-building. "I know you did."

“Someone is a sore loser here,” Ryan replied, having left yesterday’s table a few hundred bucks richer. Also, blabbermouth? He’d had way better nicknames! Like Lil’ Granny Destroyer.

“I counted cards,” Lanka said. “But you changed them. I’m never wrong about that.”

“So you accuse him of cheating, by admitting that you cheated yourself?” Jamie asked, unsympathetic.

“Of course I cheated,” Ryan admitted openly, much to Jamie and Ki-jung’s surprise. “And instead of condemning me, you should learn from it, my young Padawan. Failure is an experience.”

“Then you must be very experienced by now,” Lanka shrugged. Clearly, she could give as much as she took.

“There is nothing more human than cheating. You know who else accused the human race of cheating? Mammoths. They said, ‘hey, these humans they attack us with bows and spears instead of tusks, it’s not fair.’” Ryan looked at the sore loser. “Have you met any mammoths lately, Lanka?”

Jamie sighed at their bickering. “We’ll try tabletop games next time.”

The group parked near Little Maghreb, next to a fortress of stone and steel. The building had been some kind of foundry before the war until Vulcan took it over a few years back. This crimson castle of metal walls, pipes, and reservoirs seemed closer to an old army base to Ryan though; a lot of grunts patrolled the area, wielding shotguns, grenade launchers, and miniguns. He also noticed a few snipers on the roof, watching every corner of the streets around the foundry.

Apparently, it was an open secret that Vulcan’s weapon division operated there, but nobody was stupid enough to attack them. Not even the Private Security and Il Migliore. New Rome truly lived in a Cold War-like era.

It was also quite close to the hotel Ryan had used in a previous loop. No wonder Vulcan attacked Wyvern when she moved so close to their headquarters.

“Also, I want to say I am disappointed in you, ladies,” Ryan told Lanka and Ki-Jung. “Only Zanbato and I have costumes! You don’t even wear masks!”

“Why would we wear masks when the Private Security has files on us?” Ki-jung asked in confusion, leaving her rats in the car to keep an eye on it. “They even know where we live.”

“And there aren’t that many advanced armors to go around,” Lanka replied, although she had the common sense to supplement her outfit with a belt holster. “And what kind of a costume, a cape? Do you know how hard it is not to trip with it?”

“It’s not about practicality, it’s about looking stylish,” Ryan replied, hands on his trenchcoat, “Without a bright and colorful style, what are we? Mere animals! Culture is what elevates—”

“Aha, villains!”

Ryan paused and looked at a strange newcomer.

A person climbed down from a bicycle near the car, dressed like Rambo... except without the gun, and half the muscles. He had painted his face and dyed his hair white, with black spots for the eyes.

It looked ridiculous, truth be told.

The rest of the group seemed to recognize him, but instead of attacking, they all looked embarrassed.

“You have come farther than you should have, but you found your sworn destroyer!” the fool declared, trying desperately to look badass, but coming desperately short. “Prepare to face the wrath of…”

“Oh God, not this again,” Lanka sighed, the rest of the group eerily silent.

“THE PANDA!”

“The what?” Ryan asked, unsure whether to condemn this man’s terrible fashion sense or applaud his efforts. At least someone in this city understood the importance of costumes! “Is your power only getting laid every ten years?”

“Pandas are picky!” the ridiculous man answered, but something in his tone made Ryan dubious. He didn’t even look Chinese!

“He’s a ‘vigilante.’” Somehow, Lanka made the word sound ridiculous, rolling her eyes while she said it. Clearly, she didn’t take him seriously. “He can transform into a panda.”

“... and?” Ryan asked, expecting something else.

“And that’s it.”

“But a very big panda,” Ki-jung added with a chuckle as if to soften the blow.

Man, some Genomes were just unlucky.

“Has the fear of the Panda petrified you, villains?” The hero put his hands on his waist, mistaking the awkward silence for fear.

Did he seriously come all the way here to pick a fight? Ryan could respect that, although he should work on his introduction.

“Just ignore him, and he will go away,” Jamie replied, leaving for the Armory without sparing the poor would-be hero a glance. Ki-jung followed soon afterward, although she gave a pitiful glance at the poor animal. Even the foundry’s guards seemed to joke about the newcomer, not making any effort to intercept him.

“You will not escape me!”

Frustrated by this lack of respect, the Panda underwent a terrible transformation. Black and white fur grew on his skin, his body gaining mass and muscle. He grew claws and fangs, shedding his pants and jacket like a magnificent butterfly. The man was gone, leaving only… the Panda.

It was a pretty big panda though, even larger than a polar bear. Yet when he let out a scream, Ryan found it cute, rather than terrifying.

With a heavy sigh, Lanka joined her index and middle fingers together to form a ‘gun,’ and fired an orange sphere of energy with it. The projectile flew towards the Panda at an arrow's speed, and hit him in the nose. The poor animal instantly fell to the left side, paralyzed.

Ryan understood now why they called her Sphere.

“Alright,” Lanka said, drawing a Beretta 76 from her pocket. “I call dibs on his corpse.”

“You’re going to kill a panda?” Ryan asked, horrified. “They’re extinct!”

“Yeah, that means we can sell his fur to a collector.” She pointed her gun at the poor beast.

“I’m stopping you right there, Cruella!” Ryan moved in the barrel’s way, unable to stand animal cruelty. “I won’t let you kill the last Panda. You could get the death penalty for this!”

“He’s not a panda, blabbermouth, he’s an idiot! It’s like being already dead, except you lost your mind while alive!”

“I can’t allow you to anger PETA! You don’t know what those guys are capable of!” Or what they could do, before the Wars.

“Who the hell is PETA, a Genome?” she asked, confused, before lowering her gun in annoyance. “You know he’s going to come back and get killed by the guards later, blabbermouth? The way I see it, it’s survival of the fittest. At least I will make it quick.”

“I’ll take full responsibility for saving this disciple of style,” Ryan replied, his female companion rolling her eyes and putting her gun back in its holster. “I believe there is still hope for him, my marauding friend.”

She raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

That she was an ex-bandit? “The snake tattoo on your arm, which you tried to cover up beneath other ones,” Ryan replied, having noticed that detail during the poker night. “I already met people with it. Very unkind people.”

“I hope you killed them,” she replied, the guards letting them inside the foundry’s perimeter, “I belonged to a real band of savages back in the day.”

Oh yes he did.

Ryan and Lanka walked towards the metal gates, finding Jamie and Ki-jung discussing with another duo. Or rather, a woman was talking, and everyone else listened with occasional nods.

She was obviously a Genome; her skin was deathly pale, unnaturally so, and her long hair bright blue. This mature lady carried herself with an eerie sort of elegance, that of an otherworldly fairy among men. Unlike Ryan’s team, she had style aplenty, wearing a black Greek chiton dress as her costume, alongside sandals, a shark tooth necklace, and skull-shaped earrings.

Ryan couldn’t explain why, but he had a bad feeling about her. Mostly because Jamie and Ki-jung seemed stiff as hell when she spoke, and even Lanka tensed at her sight.

The courier also recognized her bodyguard as the woman who tried to flirt with him at the Bakuto, back when he had messed up with the chain of events. Although this time, she had traded her dress for a black uniform and an assault rifle. Since they hadn’t met in this restart, she didn’t recognize him.

The blue-haired woman and her bodyguard passed by Ryan and Lanka on their way to the parking lot, before stopping abruptly when she noticed the courier. “You,” the blue-haired woman said, her voice deep like someone used to being obeyed.

“Moi?” Ryan pointed a finger at himself.

“How old are you?” she asked, her sharp grey eyes examining him closely. Somehow, it felt like locking eyes with a hungry crocodile peeking out of the water.

“What a question.” Ryan made a mock bow. “I’m immortal, but don’t tell anyone.”

“No one is immortal,” she responded, vaguely amused. “I hope to reach your age one day though.”

Then she stopped paying him any mind and walked away with her escort.

“Shit,” Lanka whispered. “That’s not good.”

“Who is she?” Ryan asked, curious.

“Pluto, Augustus’ sister, and underboss,” Jamie said upon regrouping, clearly worried, “When he sends her, heads fall.”

“Isn’t Pluto a guy in Roman mythology?” Ryan asked. “I support gender equality, but wouldn’t Plutonia have been more appropriate?”

“I believe they had a theme naming thing in the family,” Lanka replied, relaxing once the underboss was out of sight. “The third member of the sibling trio, Neptune, serves as Augustus’ consigliere.”

At least they tried to respect the spirit of the names. Ryan appreciated the cultural reference. “What’s her power exactly?”

“If she wants you to die,” Jamie said, his eyes darkening, “you die.”

“As in what, she vaporizes you with lightning—”

“No, you just die,” Jamie interrupted Ryan, a hint of fear and wariness in his voice. Perhaps he worried—rightfully—that Quicksave would try to put this power to the test. “There is no warning, no protection, no counter. If she wants you dead, you die. The end.”

“Since we still have enemies alive, her power must have limits,” Ki-jung said. “But we don’t know them.”

This only made Ryan even more interested. He would check it one loop. Lanka, however, wanted more information. “Why was she here?” she asked Jamie.

“Five of our Made Men have died under mysterious circumstances lately,” Ki-jung replied instead.

“The Meta-trash?”

Jamie shook his head. “No, they would have loudly claimed these murders, and they aren’t their style. Poison powerful enough to affect Genomes, explosives, drowning and suffocation… The boss believes this is a new vigilante. Pluto and the Killer Seven hit squad will take care of this, and if they ask for anything, we are to assist them with the task.”

Explosives he said?

“My invisible nemesis struck again,” Ryan said, happy to have solved the mystery.

“Yeah, I thought the same,” Jamie said. “But unless the one responsible knocks at our door itching for a fight, we’re leaving the higher-ups to deal with this. Once the hit squad is after someone, it’s only a matter of time before the matter is solved.”

Ryan guessed it would be rude to say murdered.

“Alright, a few rules about how to address Vulcan,” Jamie told Ryan, as they stood before the metal gates. “Don’t make jokes about her height, and for the love of God, don’t mention Wyvern unless she mentions her first.”

Ryan nodded dutifully, the doors opening to let them walk inside.

Jamie led them on to a guided tour of the foundry, although it quickly became clear the name didn’t fully illustrate the truth. The building housed a whole weapon production operation, from the metal processing to the assembly line. The group walked through searing hot rooms full of furnaces and automated assembly lines; they produced guns, bullets, and rockets. Some of the guards even wore variants of Jamie’s own armor, albeit bulkier and far more intimidating.

Eventually, they reached Vulcan’s workshop. It was the quintessential Geniuses lair, full of bulky devices, glass bulbs providing light, and strange contraptions centuries ahead of modern times.

It also had a big, big robot on standby.

Scratch that, it turned out to be an enormous set of power armor, albeit nearly five meters tall and with the wideness to match. While humanoid, the suit was so bulky it might as well be called a tank with legs. However, considering the number of miniature turbo reactors, and the multi-joint design of the limbs, Ryan guessed the machine could move surprisingly fast in the field. And of course, it had enough weapons to rival a battleship, including a massive rocket launcher on the right arm, cannons, and even beam weaponry.

The courier also noticed multiple eye-shaped cameras dispatched all over the machine, perhaps to allow the user to see in all directions. Finally, the machine was plated with gold, probably to show-off as much as possible.

The builder was waiting for them, drawing plans on a large table. Much like Pluto, in spite of her codename, Vulcan turned out to be a girl.

And to Ryan’s surprise, she seemed a little bit younger than him, biologically. Eighteen, nineteen? In any case, she was petite, barely one meter sixty tall, with olive skin, sharp black eyes, and dark hair bound into a bun by a pencil of all things. She dressed rather casually for her station, a mere black shirt, dirtied pants, and unlaced shoes.

But when she looked at him, Ryan could see the fierceness in her gaze.

“I expected someone taller,” Ryan told her innocently. “Like Wyvern.”

The room grew incredibly tense, Everyone looked at him as if he were insane, except Vulcan, who gave him a murderous glare. Ryan looked away at the giant mech, whistling.

“We’ll see who is taller when I blow off your legs, jackass,” the capo said with a face that reminded Ryan of Len. She must have had the same height complex. “Because right now, you just stepped on a landmine.”

Here comes Napoleon!

“Quicksave, please, a little respect,” Jamie coughed, he and the rest of the team nodding at Vulcan. “I’m sorry, chief. He doesn’t know what he says.”

“Oh no, he does,” Vulcan replied angrily, glaring at Ryan. “The bitch is my personal N-word. When someone speaks it, they suffer.”

“Do you have any survival instinct?” Lanka hissed at Ryan.

“Of course not, I’m immortal. Survival instincts are for people who can die.” The courier glanced at the giant armor, noticing the enormous reactor on the machine’s back. “Is that a miniaturized fusion reactor?”

Vulcan’s face betrayed some surprise, although she remained clearly furious with him. “I’m surprised you could tell.”

“I worked on one once, albeit nothing this advanced,” Ryan replied, examining the rest of the suit. “And plasma beams for offense too. Clever, clever.”

“Maybe I should give you a live demonstration.” As Vulcan spoke these words, the suit moved on its own. The other Genomes took a step back, and Jamie in particular looked ready to summon an energy sword. “Though since you’ve got a brain, I guess I will only destroy the legs.”

Ryan simply kept observing this marvel of technology, even as it pointed its weapons at his lower half.

“Mmm.” Vulcan frowned, her anger replaced with astonishment. “You are awfully close to death, and yet neither your heartbeat nor blood pressure changed at all. No abnormal neural activity either. You give absolutely zero fucks.”

Wait, how could she know that? Did she have a telepathic link to her suit’s sensors?

Though he should feel thankful that her anger had left the building, replaced with curiosity. She probably thought he had some ace up his sleeve.

“I heard you carried advanced tech with you, Quicksave,” Vulcan said, the others too happy to see her calm down to say anything. “Are you a Genius?”

“Sort of.” He didn’t have enhanced intelligence, but he had spent so many loops tinkering with advanced technology, he might as well be a de facto Genius. Ryan looked into his trenchcoat and handed Vulcan the A-bomb.

“What a beautiful, elegant design,” Vulcan whistled, examining it under all its forms. “You made that?”

“Everyone should have a bomb on themselves for dissuasion!” Ryan avoided a straightforward answer, full of excitement in the presence of a fellow bomb-maker. “Bombs save lives!”

“Exactly,” Vulcan replied with the same enthusiasm, unable to restrain her geeky passion for explosions. “You know why the Cold War never went hot? Because everyone had A-bombs! Absolute destructive power is the key to peace!”

“Oh God, there are two of them now,” Ryan heard Lanka whisper to Jamie, who ground his teeth in uneasiness. Still, Ryan could see everyone relax a bit.

“What about Mechron?” Ki-jung asked mirthfully, a thin smile on her lips. “Bombs didn’t help against him.”

“An unforeseen variable, Chitter, like the Alchemist,” Vulcan brushed it off, before waving the A-bomb under Ryan’s nose. “You see this?”

“Uh, yes?”

“If you say Wyvern again, I’ll shove it down your throat. Since you’ve got precious skills, I’ll spare your life, but only this time. Don’t push your luck again, unless you want a one-way ticket to Killville.”

Nice place, he had been there a lot of times. “So, you’re not giving me back the bomb?”

“No, that’s your respect tax,” she said before brazenly stealing his device and putting it in her pocket. “If you join my division, I might change my mind. I’ve got a lot of workers, but few real engineers worth their salt. You have an attitude problem, but I’ll tame you.”

Ryan also noticed that her suit kept its weapons pointed at him, even if she sounded friendlier.

“I thought he might do well with Mercury’s.” Jamie cleared up his throat, defending his own division.

“I’m the one who looked him up first, Zanbato,” Vulcan replied. “If Mercury wants to find good men, he should get out of his house once in a while.”

“I’m very happy for the attention, but I’m not the person for long-term employment,” said Ryan. “I’m looking for Len, black hair, blue eyes, Marxist-Leninist.”

“Underdiver,” Vulcan replied, smirking when Ryan gave her his full attention. “But I don’t see how I benefit from introducing you to my subcontractor, especially if you aren’t with us long-term.”

Subcontractor? Finally, he could almost taste the reunion! “How much for the privilege?”

Vulcan replied with a laugh, sitting on her workshop table. “You think I’m a crook who works for money?”

“Then I have only my body left to sell.”

Ki-jung couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke, before quickly correcting her expression. Vulcan smiled a bit. “I don’t know if you’re ballsy or just insane,” she said. “But as a matter of fact, I have a need for fresh warm bodies to throw at a problem.”

“The Meta-gang?” Jamie cleared his throat. “You want us to take them down?”

“My crew will take care of the Meta problem,” Vulcan brushed him off. “The big boss gave us the go order. Just protect the shipments, and we’ll take care of Rust Town. No. What I have in mind involves fighting the ‘law.’”

“The best kind of mission,” Ryan delighted. “Are we going to do tax evasion? There’s nothing more excitingly dangerous! Even Al Capone couldn't do it!”

“Nobody pays taxes, blabbermouth,” Lanka pointed out.

“The Private Security and Il Migliore have been a bit overeager lately,” Vulcan said with a sneer. “Nothing too damaging, but they’re testing us. They believe the Meta made our organization weak. We must remind them not to underestimate the Augusti.”

“You want us to attack Dynamis’ operations?” Jamie asked, Lanka frowning at the ‘us.’

Vulcan nodded. “Dynamis is currently filming a new Il Migliore movie. I want you to trash the studio, send them a message.”

“Isn’t the newest movie under work there…” Jamie trailed off, without finishing his sentence.

“Wyvern’s Flight II,” Vulcan finished a vengeful glint in her eyes.

Yeah, totally business as usual.

“Do you want your personal vendetta crispy,” Ryan asked, “or extra crispy?”

瑞恩已经有一阵子没开着他的普利茅斯“狂怒”载一群人了。

他倒是经常载上一两个人，尤其是在烂醉狂欢，或者给人开车接应逃跑的时候，但很少像这次一样载着一整个小队。杰米穿着动力装甲坐在后排，身穿绿色连帽衫的基贞坐在他身旁。她的老鼠们占据了车内的各个角落，藏在座椅后面和底下。

可惜，前排的兰卡一路都在抱怨。“你出千了，话痨。”她指责瑞恩。要不是杰米坚持说，为了团队建设，大家必须坐同一辆车，她本来会骑自己的摩托去开会。“我知道你出了。”

“看来有人输不起啊。”瑞恩答道。昨晚离开牌桌时，他的腰包里多了几百块。还有，话痨？他可有过好听多了的绰号！比如小小老奶奶终结者。

“我算了牌，”兰卡说，“但你把牌换了。这种事我绝不会看错。”

“所以你一边承认自己作弊，一边指控他出千？”杰米问道，丝毫不同情她。

“我当然出千了。”瑞恩坦然承认，让杰米和基贞大吃一惊。“但你不该谴责我，而该从中学习，我年轻的帕达万。失败也是一种经验。”

“那你现在肯定经验丰富了。”兰卡耸耸肩。显然，她嘴上也不是个肯吃亏的。

“没什么比作弊更能体现人性了。你知道还有谁指责过人类作弊吗？猛犸象。它们说：‘喂，这些人类居然用弓箭和长矛打我们，不用獠牙，这不公平。’”瑞恩看向这个输不起的家伙。“兰卡，你最近碰见过猛犸象吗？”

听着两人斗嘴，杰米叹了口气。“下次我们试试桌游吧。”

一行人在小马格里布附近停下车，旁边是一座由石头和钢铁筑成的堡垒。这栋建筑战前似乎是某种铸造厂，几年前被伏尔甘接管。不过在瑞恩看来，这座由金属墙壁、管道和储液罐组成的暗红城堡更像一处旧军事基地；大批喽啰手持霰弹枪、榴弹发射器和加特林机枪，在附近巡逻。他还注意到屋顶上有几个狙击手，监视着铸造厂周围街道的每个角落。

显然，伏尔甘的武器部门在这里活动，早已是公开的秘密，但没人蠢到来攻打他们。就连私人安保队和至优者也不例外。新罗马还真是活在冷战时代。

这里离瑞恩在之前某一轮住过的酒店也很近。难怪双足飞龙一靠近他们的总部，伏尔甘就出手攻击了她。

“另外，女士们，我得说，我对你们很失望。”瑞恩对兰卡和基贞说。“只有斩马刀和我穿了战服！你们连面具都不戴！”

“私人安保队都有我们的档案了，为什么还要戴面具？”基贞不解地问，把老鼠们留在车里看车。“他们连我们住哪儿都知道。”

“再说，也没那么多先进装甲可分。”兰卡答道，不过她好歹还知道给自己的行头加个腰间枪套。“而且要穿什么战服，披风吗？你知道穿着那玩意儿想不绊倒有多难吗？”

“这不是实不实用的问题，而是够不够有型。”瑞恩双手搭着风衣，说道，“没有鲜艳夺目的造型，我们算什么？不过是动物罢了！文化才能让我们升华——”

“啊哈，恶棍们！”

瑞恩停了下来，望向这个古怪的不速之客。

一个人在汽车附近跳下自行车，打扮得像兰博……只不过没带枪，肌肉也少了一半。他把脸涂白，头发也染成白色，眼睛周围画了两团黑斑。

说实话，这造型实在滑稽。

小队的其他人似乎都认识他，却没有动手，只是一脸尴尬。

“你们已经越过了不该逾越的界线，但现在，誓要毁灭你们的人就在眼前！”那傻瓜宣布道，拼了命想摆出威风凛凛的架势，可惜差得同样要命。“准备承受他的怒火吧，他就是……”

“天哪，别又来这一套。”兰卡叹了口气，其余人则陷入诡异的沉默。

“熊猫！”

“什么猫？”瑞恩问，不知道该谴责此人糟糕的时尚品位，还是为他的努力鼓掌。至少这座城里还有人明白战服的重要性！“你的超能力是十年才能上一次床吗？”

“熊猫很挑剔的！”那个滑稽的男人回答，但他的语气让瑞恩心生怀疑。他看着甚至都不像中国人！

“他是个‘义警’。”不知怎么，兰卡硬是把这个词说得可笑无比，还边说边翻白眼。显然，她根本没把他当回事。“他能变成熊猫。”

“……然后呢？”瑞恩问，等着听下文。

“然后就没了。”

“不过是只很大的熊猫。”基贞轻笑着补充，像是想让这话不那么伤人。

唉，有些基因者就是命不好。

“恶棍们，你们已经被熊猫吓得动弹不得了吗？”这位英雄双手叉腰，将尴尬的沉默误当成了恐惧。

他真是大老远跑来找架打的？瑞恩敬他这份勇气，不过他的开场白还得再练练。

“别理他，他自己就走了。”杰米说道，径直走向军械库，看都没看这位可怜的英雄候选人一眼。基贞很快也跟了上去，不过还是怜悯地看了这只可怜的动物一眼。就连铸造厂的守卫似乎都在拿这个新来的人开玩笑，丝毫没有上前拦截的意思。

“你们逃不掉的！”

被人如此轻视，熊猫恼怒地开始了一场可怕的变身。黑白相间的毛发从皮肤上长出，身躯膨胀，肌肉隆起。他长出了利爪和獠牙，像一只华美的蝴蝶般蜕去裤子和外套。男人消失了，留下的只有……熊猫。

不过，这只熊猫确实很大，甚至比北极熊还要大。可他吼叫起来时，瑞恩非但没觉得可怕，反而觉得可爱。

兰卡重重地叹了口气，将食指和中指并在一起，比成一把“枪”，射出了一颗橙色能量球。球体以箭矢般的速度飞向熊猫，击中了他的鼻子。可怜的动物顿时浑身麻痹，朝左侧倒了下去。

瑞恩现在明白，为什么他们叫她球体了。

“好了。”兰卡说着，从口袋里掏出一把伯莱塔76手枪。“他的尸体归我，先到先得。”

“你要杀一只熊猫？”瑞恩惊恐地问。“它们都已经灭绝了！”

“是啊，所以这身皮毛能卖给收藏家。”她把枪口对准了那只可怜的野兽。

“到此为止了，库伊拉！”瑞恩看不得虐待动物，跨步挡在了枪口前。“我不会让你杀掉最后一只熊猫。这可是要判死刑的！”

“他不是熊猫，话痨，他是个白痴！跟已经死了也没什么两样，只不过他活着就先把脑子丢了！”

“我不能让你激怒PETA！你不知道那帮家伙能干出什么事！”或者说，在战争之前，他们能干出什么事。

“PETA又是哪根葱，基因者吗？”她困惑地问，随后烦躁地垂下枪口。“你知不知道，他以后还会回来，然后被守卫打死，话痨？要我说，这就是适者生存。至少我还能给他个痛快。”

“救下这位造型之道的信徒，一切责任由我承担。”瑞恩答道，身旁的女伴翻了个白眼，把枪插回枪套。“我相信他还有救，我那位打家劫舍的朋友。”

她挑起一边眉毛。“你怎么知道的？”

她以前当过匪徒这件事？“你胳膊上那个蛇形纹身，你试着用其他纹身把它盖住。”瑞恩答道，昨晚打牌时，他就注意到了这个细节。“我以前见过有这种纹身的人。非常不友善的人。”

“希望你把他们都杀了。”她说。守卫放两人进入了铸造厂的警戒范围。“我以前待的那伙人，真就是一群野蛮人。”

噢，他还真杀了。

瑞恩和兰卡走向金属大门，发现杰米和基贞正在与另外两个人交谈。更准确地说，是一个女人在说话，其他人都听着，偶尔点点头。

她显然是个基因者：皮肤有种不自然的死白，长发则是鲜亮的蓝色。这位成熟的女士举手投足间有种诡异的优雅，宛如混迹凡人之间的异界仙灵。和瑞恩的队友们不同，她的造型感十足，战服是一件黑色希腊式基同长袍，搭配凉鞋、鲨鱼牙项链和骷髅头耳环。

瑞恩说不清为什么，但她给他的感觉很不妙。主要是她说话的时候，杰米和基贞都僵硬得要命，就连兰卡一见到她，也绷紧了身体。

信使还认出了她的保镖，正是在他搅乱一连串事件的那一轮里，曾在博徒赌场试图勾搭他的那个女人。不过这一次，她换下了裙子，穿着黑色制服，带着一把突击步枪。因为这一轮两人还没见过面，她并不认识他。

蓝发女人和她的保镖朝停车场走去，经过瑞恩和兰卡身边时，她注意到了信使，突然停下脚步。“你。”蓝发女人开口，嗓音低沉，带着一种习惯了被人服从的口吻。

“我？”瑞恩用手指指了指自己。

“你多大了？”她问道，锐利的灰眼睛仔细打量着他。不知为何，这感觉就像与一条探出水面的饥饿鳄鱼对视。

“这问题可真有意思。”瑞恩煞有介事地鞠了一躬。“我是不死之身，不过别告诉别人。”

“没有人是不死的。”她答道，似乎略觉有趣。“不过，我倒希望有一天能活到你这个岁数。”

随后，她不再理会他，带着护卫走了。

“妈的。”兰卡低声道，“这可不妙。”

“她是谁？”瑞恩好奇地问。

“普鲁托，奥古斯都的姐妹，也是家族的二把手。”重新会合后，杰米说道，明显忧心忡忡。“他一派她出来，就有人要掉脑袋。”

“罗马神话里的普鲁托不是男的吗？”瑞恩问。“我支持男女平等，不过叫普鲁托妮娅不是更合适？”

“我想他们家起名是按同一个主题来的。”那位二把手消失在视野外后，兰卡放松下来，答道。“他们兄妹三人中的第三位，尼普顿，是奥古斯都的顾问。”

至少他们还在努力尊重这些名字的本意。瑞恩很欣赏这份文化底蕴。“她的能力到底是什么？”

“她要是想让你死，”杰米说，目光沉了下来，“你就会死。”

“怎么个死法，用闪电把你汽化——”

“不是，你就是会死。”杰米打断瑞恩，声音里带着一丝恐惧和警惕。或许他担心快存会想亲自试试这能力——而且还真没担心错。“没有预兆，无法防御，无法反制。她想让你死，你就会死。就这样。”

“既然我们的敌人还没死光，她的能力就一定有限制。”基贞说。“只不过我们不知道是什么。”

这反而让瑞恩更感兴趣了。哪一轮他得试一试。兰卡却想知道别的。“她为什么来这里？”她问杰米。

“最近有五名正式成员离奇死亡。”基贞替他答道。

“超能帮那群垃圾干的？”

杰米摇了摇头。“不是。要是他们干的，早就大张旗鼓地认领了，而且也不是他们的风格。能对基因者起效的强力毒药，炸药，溺水，还有窒息……老大认为这是个新来的义警。普鲁托和杀手七人组会处理这件事。要是他们提出任何要求，我们都得配合他们完成任务。”

他说炸药？

“我那位隐形宿敌又出手了。”瑞恩说道，很高兴自己解开了谜团。

“是，我也是这么想的。”杰米说。“不过，除非凶手找上门来讨打，否则我们就让上头处理。暗杀小队一旦盯上谁，解决也只是时间问题。”

瑞恩猜，直接说杀掉大概不太礼貌。

“好了，跟伏尔甘说话，有几条规矩要记住。”他们站在金属大门前，杰米对瑞恩说。“别拿她的身高开玩笑。还有，看在上帝的份上，除非她先提，否则千万别提双足飞龙。”

瑞恩老老实实地点头，大门随即打开，让他们走了进去。

杰米带着众人参观起铸造厂，不过他们很快便发现，这个名字并不能完整反映实际情况。楼内是一整套武器生产体系，从金属加工一直到组装线，应有尽有。一行人穿过灼热的车间，里面满是熔炉和自动化组装线，生产着枪械、子弹和火箭弹。一些守卫甚至穿着杰米那套装甲的改型，只不过更加厚重，也更加吓人。

最后，他们来到了伏尔甘的工作间。这里堪称天才巢穴的典范，到处都是庞大的设备、用于照明的玻璃灯泡，以及领先这个时代好几个世纪的古怪装置。

另外，还有一台很大、很大的机器人正在待机。

不对，那其实是一套巨型动力装甲，足有近五米高，宽度也毫不逊色。它虽然呈人形，却笨重得完全可以叫作长了腿的坦克。然而，考虑到那一大堆微型涡轮引擎，以及四肢的多关节设计，瑞恩猜这台机器在实战中的移动速度恐怕快得惊人。当然，它配备的火力也足以媲美一艘战列舰，包括右臂上巨大的火箭发射器、数门火炮，甚至还有光束武器。

信使还注意到，机器各处都装有眼睛形状的摄像头，或许是为了让驾驶者能够观察所有方向。最后，整台机器还镀了金，多半是为了尽可能地炫耀。

制造者正在一张大桌子前画设计图，等着他们。和普鲁托一样，尽管代号听着不像，伏尔甘其实也是个姑娘。

而且令瑞恩意外的是，单看生理年龄，她似乎还比他小一点。十八岁，十九岁？总之，她身材娇小，勉强有一米六，橄榄色皮肤，黑眼睛锐利，深色头发盘成发髻，固定它的竟然是一支铅笔。以她的地位而言，这身打扮相当随意：只有一件黑色衬衫、一条沾了污渍的裤子，还有没系鞋带的鞋。

但她看过来时，瑞恩能看见那目光里的凶悍。

“我还以为你会高一点呢。”瑞恩一脸无辜地对她说。“比如像双足飞龙那样。”

房间里的气氛顿时绷到了极点。所有人都像看疯子一样看着他，只有伏尔甘不一样——她的眼神简直要杀人。瑞恩移开视线，望着那台巨型机甲，吹起了口哨。

“等我把你的腿轰掉，再看看谁更高，混蛋。”这位头目说道，脸上的表情让瑞恩想起了蕾恩。她肯定也有同样的身高情结。“因为就在刚才，你踩中了地雷。”

拿破仑驾到！

“快存，拜托，尊重一点。”杰米咳了一声，和其余队友一起向伏尔甘点头致意。“抱歉，头儿。他说话不过脑子。”

“不，他清楚得很。”伏尔甘怒气冲冲地回答，瞪着瑞恩。“那个婊子的名字，就是我的‘N字头禁词’。谁说出口，谁就得吃苦头。”

“你到底有没有求生本能？”兰卡压低声音，冲瑞恩嘶声问道。

“当然没有，我是不死之身。求生本能是给会死的人用的。”信使瞥向那套巨型装甲，注意到机器背上庞大的反应堆。“那是微型聚变反应堆吗？”

伏尔甘脸上露出一丝惊讶，尽管她显然还在生他的气。“你居然认得出来，真让我意外。”

“我以前摆弄过一个，不过远没这么先进。”瑞恩答道，继续检查装甲的其余部分。“还用等离子束来攻击。聪明，聪明。”

“也许我该给你来场现场演示。”伏尔甘话音未落，装甲便自行动了起来。其他基因者都退了一步，尤其是杰米，看着已经准备好召出能量剑了。“不过，既然你还算有脑子，我想只毁掉两条腿就行。”

即使这件科技奇迹把武器对准了他的下半身，瑞恩依然只是继续观察它。

“嗯。”伏尔甘皱起眉，怒火被惊讶取代。“你都快死到临头了，心率和血压居然一点都没变。神经活动也没有异常。你还真是他妈的一点都不在乎。”

等等，她是怎么知道的？难道她和装甲上的传感器有心灵链接？

不过，她的怒气已经退场，换成了好奇心，这一点他倒该庆幸。她大概以为他藏着什么底牌。

“我听说你随身带着先进的科技装备，快存。”伏尔甘说。见她平静下来，其他人高兴还来不及，谁也没开口。“你是天才吗？”

“算是吧。”他的智力并未得到强化，可这么多轮循环下来，他把太多时间花在了钻研先进科技上，说他是个实质上的天才也不为过。瑞恩翻了翻风衣，把那颗原子弹递给伏尔甘。

“多漂亮、多优雅的设计。”伏尔甘吹了声口哨，翻来覆去地端详。“你做的？”

“人人都该随身带颗炸弹，用来威慑！”瑞恩避开了正面回答，见到同行的炸弹制造者，让他兴奋不已。“炸弹能救命！”

“没错。”伏尔甘同样热情地答道，无法抑制自己对爆炸的狂热。“你知道冷战为什么没打成热战吗？因为人人都有原子弹！绝对的毁灭力量才是和平的关键！”

“天哪，现在这种人有两个了。”瑞恩听见兰卡低声对杰米说，后者不安地磨着牙。不过，瑞恩看得出来，所有人都稍稍放松了一点。

“那梅克隆呢？”基贞嘴角带着一丝笑意，打趣地问。“炸弹可没能拦住他。”

“不可预见的变量，吱喳，跟炼金术师一样。”伏尔甘轻描淡写地揭过这个话题，接着把原子弹举到瑞恩鼻子底下晃了晃。“看见这个了吗？”

“呃，看见了？”

“你再提一次双足飞龙，我就把它塞进你喉咙。看在你有点稀罕本事的份上，我饶你一命，但仅此一次。别再得寸进尺，除非你想要一张通往送命镇的单程票。”

好地方，他去过很多次。“所以，你不打算把炸弹还我了？”

“不还，就当你交的尊重税了。”说着，她大摇大摆地没收了他的装置，揣进自己口袋。“你要是加入我的部门，我也许会改变主意。我手下工人很多，可真正有本事的工程师没几个。你的态度是有问题，不过我会把你驯服的。”

瑞恩还注意到，尽管她的语气友善了些，装甲的武器却仍对准着他。

“我倒觉得他在墨丘利那边也能干得不错。”杰米清了清嗓子，为自己的部门争取。

“是我先找到他的，斩马刀。”伏尔甘答道。“墨丘利要是想找好手，就该偶尔出趟家门。”

“承蒙厚爱，我很高兴，不过我这人不适合长期雇用。”瑞恩说。“我在找蕾恩，黑头发，蓝眼睛，马克思列宁主义者。”

“深潜者。”伏尔甘答道。见瑞恩的注意力全落在了自己身上，她嘴角勾起一抹得意的笑。“不过，我看不出把我的分包商介绍给你，对我有什么好处，尤其是你又不打算长期跟我们干。”

分包商？终于，重逢近得他几乎已经能尝到滋味了！“要获得这份荣幸，得花多少钱？”

伏尔甘笑了起来，坐上工作台。“你以为我是个为钱办事的坏蛋？”

“那我就只剩身体可以卖了。”

基贞被这个笑话逗得忍不住轻笑了一声，随即赶紧收起笑容。伏尔甘也露出了一点笑意。“我不知道你是胆大包天，还是真的疯了。”她说。“不过说来也巧，我正需要几个新鲜热乎的活人，扔过去对付个麻烦。”

“超能帮？”杰米清了清嗓子。“你想让我们把他们端掉？”

“超能帮的问题，我的人会处理。”伏尔甘打断了他。“大老板已经下令行动。你们只管保护货物，锈镇由我们来收拾。不，我想的这件事，要对付的是‘法律’。”

“最棒的任务类型。”瑞恩喜形于色。“我们要去逃税吗？没有比这更危险、更刺激的了！就连阿尔·卡彭都没能成功！”

“根本没人交税，话痨。”兰卡指出。

“私人安保队和至优者最近有点太积极了。”伏尔甘冷笑道。“倒没造成多大损失，可他们是在试探。以为超能帮削弱了我们的组织。我们得提醒他们，别小看奥古斯蒂。”

“你想让我们去袭击迪纳米斯的业务据点？”杰米问。听见‘我们’，兰卡皱起了眉。

伏尔甘点了点头。“迪纳米斯目前正在拍一部新的至优者电影。我要你们砸了摄影棚，给他们一个警告。”

“那里最近在拍的电影，不是……”杰米没有把话说完。

“《双足飞龙的飞翔Ⅱ》。”伏尔甘替他说完，眼中闪着复仇的光。

是啊，完全是公事公办，一如既往。

“你的私人恩怨，”瑞恩问，“是要炸得酥脆，还是特酥脆？”