同章对照

“Do you want to be my friend?”

The plushie’s words echoed in the corridor, while Ryan found himself trapped between two monsters. On one side was a ruthless abomination against nature, and on the other, Frank the Mad. Psyshock remained in the background, carefully waiting for an opportunity.

The plushie and Frank locked gazes, two apex predators recognizing each other. The tension grew palpable, the rabbit throwing Pale Guy’s scalp away while Frank adopted a krav maga fighting stance. Eldritch whispering voices echoed through the hallway, promising sweet destruction to all living creatures.

“Behind me, Mr. Vice-President,” the giant told Psyshock, warily gazing at the rabbit. “It’s an Afghan hare.”

A tense silence stretched for several, agonizing seconds. No one was brave enough to take the first step. The plushie’s ears turned towards the Psycho ever so threateningly, while Frank’s fingers fidgeted. Ryan held his breath, knowing the following seconds would decide the fate of the entire run.

And then…

And then it started. The rabbit leaped forward, knife-claws extended, while Frank let out a bestial roar and charged. David versus Goliath. Robot versus robot. Man versus rabbit.

Of this epic battle…

Of this epic battle, nothing would be said, for Ryan ran away.

Realizing he would die if caught in the crossfire, the courier stopped time for ten seconds. He ran towards Frank, slid on the ground between the giant’s leg, and then quickly got back up and fled towards the other end of the hallway.

“I love you so much!” he heard from behind him.

And the clock was still stopped.

Unfortunately, the moment time resumed, Psyshock whipped Ryan in the torso with his tentacle arm from the ceiling, having attached himself to it like a spider waiting for his prey.

Thanks to the Rampage drug, Ryan didn’t ‘feel’ the pain, but he heard one of his ribs break under the strain. The blow propelled him further down the hallway, brightened by flashes of crimson light. The bunker trembled, as Frank frantically hit the ground and walls in a fruitless attempt to catch the rabbit.

“It seems you are quite the glass cannon, Cesare,” Psyshock mused, leaping with his wires and attempting to pin the courier to the ground. “You can dodge a thousand times, but you can only stumble so often.”

Ryan managed to roll over to dodge the attack, quickly getting back on his feet and running away. Psyshock pursued him, with the two demons remaining behind to fight.

Ryan eventually exited the hallway to enter another underground chamber, with lamps embedded in black panels all over the walls; blood had recently been spilled on the ground, leaving spots on the metal. Seven vats full of colored liquids, one for each Elixir, were lined up on a nearby wall. Linked to strange-looking machines, three of the containers held mutated animals; Ryan struggled to see them fully through the liquid but identified some strange hybrid of a lizard and dog the size of a Doberman in the violet tube. The laboratory had two other blast doors, one opened, one closed.

Psyshock’s tentacles launched themselves at Ryan, who had finally recovered from his cooldown. The courier dodged with a leap to the side after a short two seconds time stop, the drug in his system helping him fight off the pain of the broken rib.

“That’s all you got?” Ryan taunted Psyshock, as both he and the Psycho faced one another. “Guess it’s easier with Japanese schoolgirls?”

“Classy,” the wire squid replied, launching one of his tentacles. This time, instead of dodging, Ryan grabbed it with his hands. With the strength boost from the Rampage drug, he rotated on himself and tossed Psyshock against a nearby wall. The Psycho managed to recover but quickly turned still.

Heavy steps echoed close from the open blast door, something huge moving into the underground lab.

“My, my,” a playful voice with a thick New York accent interrupted the battle, “what do we have here?”

A massive figure, not as tall and massive as Frank but close, stepped through the broken blast door. An obese Psycho with the power to turn his skin into an indestructible, black carbon alloy, he was already transformed when he showed up. The man was heavily mutated, his face heavily scarred and possessing prominent teeth like a hippo. He dressed like a man from the fifties, though his clothes had fuming holes in them, probably from lasers.

And his eyes… his brown eyes shone with a mix of fiendish cunning and malignant narcissism. He briefly glanced at Psyshock, who instantly submitted without a word.

“Big Bad Adam,” Ryan said dramatically, “we finally meet again in the fat.”

“Oh my, we’ve got a new Mark Twain here,” the living balloon mocked him back. “Such a razor-sharp wit. You make Oscar Wilde proud, laddie.”

He was the worst kind of criminal.

The one with a sense of humor.

“You’ve been making a mess above, chump,” Adam said, keeping his left hand behind his back and his right one exposed. “I’ve been looking at you through our cams for a while. Sorry not to have welcomed you myself, I was busy doing important work.”

“Well, fatass, now that we got to know each other better, perhaps we can discuss your plan to conquer New Rome with a robot army over dinner?”

Adam chuckled. “You’re wired,” he mused. “They’re always wired when they say that. Sorry, mate, you’ll warrant no exposition from me.”

Well, it was worth a shot.

“Wait, widdy wait, you said we meet again?” Adam snapped his fingers. “You’re Bloodstream’s kid. Cesaire something.”

“Cesare,” Psyshock said, clearly itching to attack Ryan, but wise enough to humor his boss.

“Is that the reason for all this fuss?” Big Fat Adam asked the courier, raising an eyebrow while explosions echoed through the hallway nearby. “A score to settle? It’s old news, mate. Old news.”

“It was an impulse thing, really,” Ryan shrugged.

“Well, whatever the case, when you invade my home and start killing all my men, I take that real personal, mate. The ride’s over boyo.”

“Oh well, I had fun. I guess I’ll just blow myself up then.”

“Mate, we’ll survive your pretty belt.” Adam grinned, though his smile never reached his eyes. “You won’t.”

“A fight to the death then?” Ryan did some footwork and shadow boxing. “I’m pumped for a few rounds.”

“There won’t be a battle, kiddo. You see, you’re mistaken about something. The media call me Big Adam, because they don’t want to face what I am, but my real moniker...” He smiled, showing three rows of sharp teeth behind his lips. “Is Adam the Ogre.”

He revealed his left hand, and Ryan flinched.

Adam held a beaten and bloody teenager no older than fourteen within his fingers; probably some Rust Town denizen, clearly of Arab or Turkish descent. The prisoner had tears of terror at the edge of his eyes, pleading Ryan to save him with his gaze.

“And though I prefer to eat French,” Adam said with a vicious smirk, holding his captive with both hands like a sandwich, “I can settle for a kebab.”

He opened his mouth and prepared to bite his captive’s head off.

Time seemed to slow down as Ryan frantically thought of the situation, and it wasn’t even his power's doing. It was clearly a trap, a cruel blow to unbalance him mentally. The courier had gone far enough anyway, and trying to rescue the teen would probably fail. He had everything to lose by making the attempt, instead of sacrificing the hostage and making a getaway to explore the bunker further.

But there were some lines Ryan couldn’t cross, even without consequences. Afterward, it would be a slippery slope.

The courier froze time and charged at Adam, punching the ogre’s hand with all his might.

The fist broke.

His own, that is. Fisty and Ryan’s bones shattered on impact.

When time resumed, the courier didn’t even see Adam’s fist hit his chest. He just heard the impact, alongside his ribs and spine breaking under the strain. The blow didn’t detonate the explosive belt but sent the courier flying against the blue vat. The glass cracked on impact drops of liquid falling off Ryan’s body.

The effects of Rampage spared him from the pain, but the courier didn’t feel his legs anymore. He coughed blood, a warm fluid filling up his lung.

“You martyrs are all the same,” Adam taunted him, scratching his prisoner’s hair with his finger like a pet. “I knew you would do that when you stopped your rampage to save our testers. Psyshock, pick his brain open before he bites the dust. I want to know who sent the laddie after us.”

“Shut your eyes, Cesare,” Psyshock said with relish, his tentacles swirling around Ryan’s neck and lifting him above ground. “It’s easier when you look away.”

This was the end. Well, it was fun while it lasted, even if the last seconds sucked.

Ryan shouted his safe word.

“Jar Jar Binks!”

The belt let out a beep, before blowing him and Psyshock up in a fiery blast.

---

And so ended Ryan’s vacation.

As he returned a few hours earlier, driving towards Renesco’s bar, the courier felt like someone commuting to his job the day after a massive bender. He had his fun, but now was time to get serious again.

Should he do another Dynamis run, dig deeper into the Meta connection? He had the feeling it would come into play, even if he somehow managed to wipe Hannifat Lecter and his goons from the face of New Rome.

However, Ryan only saw one way to kill Psyshock permanently yet, and the option was Augusti-exclusive. The courier had already progressed rather far on that path, and he wished to see how this party would unfold.

And so Ryan prepared to return to the Augusti Path...

Until he remembered he would have to visit Len again.

To maintain the sequence of events, he would have to say the same things, make the same moves, go through the same heartbreak until it became routine. Every feeling, every special moment, emptied of their substance and uniqueness. An ancient bond turned into a formality.

Just like everything else.

Ryan parked the car in the first spot he found, his hands on the driving wheel. He stayed there for a few seconds, trying to gather his thoughts. He activated the Chronoradio, put some Post Apocalyptic Blues in the background.

“Len,” the courier said suddenly. “I know you’re listening, Shortie. Watching me. You’ve got to, somehow.”

He received no answer, no change in the world around him. But Ryan carried on.

“You have a table near your sofa, in your undersea apartment. You’re currently reading Karl Marx, Hegel, and the Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea book you found in Venezia. You kept them all these years because you’re a ship geek and that will never change.”

Ryan glanced through the window, at the sun shining upon the peaceful Mediterranean Sea. He couldn’t see anyone peeking over the water. Maybe she was, maybe not.

“I know because I was there. Just as I know you give the orphans in Rust Town supplies and money, and that you want to take them to your complex under the sea. Before you believe I’ve teleported there, or that this is a horror stalker movie, I’ll tell you a secret. My secret.”

Ryan inhaled and dropped the bomb.

“Len, I can time-travel, mentally. Not far, but I can relive the same events over and over again. I drank the Violet Elixir that fateful day, and it granted me that power. From your point of view, it has only been four years, but for me? It’s been many lifetimes. I’m probably older than most countries by now. I’ve forgotten more than you will ever learn. But never once did I forget you.”

Here he was, getting all mushy-mushy and sentimental. It felt so strange, as if the courier unloaded a burden which had weighed on his shoulders for days.

“I…” Ryan struggled to find his words since they came from the heart. He was never good at this, even before the loop. “I know why you don’t want to see me. You told me in another history, now erased. Why I hurt you with my mere presence. You hate me for what I did to your father, and how I remind you of the bad days. And I… I understand. I understand.”

It still hurt just to remember that conversation, but he understood.

“I want to help you, Len. Because I… because I care for you. But I don’t know how I can help. I never did. Some say I should persevere, others that I should let you pursue your own destiny without interfering. And… and I don’t want to learn the best way, Len. Because it means going through countless trials and errors. We will have the same conversations over and over again, you will forget everything, and every special moment we have will become routine to me. You won’t be a friend, you’ll be a goal.”

Still no answer.

“I don’t want to do that to you,” Ryan persevered. “So if… if you’re listening, and there is any chance we can make up and find a way around that curse of mine, please give me a sign. If not… if not, I will let you be. I will still take action to save the orphans from Adam and his band, but you’ll never hear from me again. I’ll be gone from your life. Because otherwise, it will hurt too much, for the both of us.”

He looked back on the driveway. “So please, I beg you,” Ryan pleaded, “please give me a sign. Anything.”

His forehead hit the driving wheel. “Don’t leave me alone again.”

Seconds, minutes stretched, with only the noise from the cars around him.

Hearing no response, Ryan sighed, regained his composure, and prepared to run over Ghoul yet again. If the courier waited longer, he might arrive too late to prevent his killing spree.

Her voice came out of the Chronoradio.

“Meet me at the orphanage.”

“你愿意做我的朋友吗？”

毛绒玩偶的声音在走廊里回荡，瑞恩发现自己被夹在了两个怪物之间。一边是冷酷无情、悖逆自然的怪物，另一边则是疯子弗兰克。心震留在后方，小心地等待机会。

毛绒玩偶与弗兰克目光相接，两头顶级掠食者认出了彼此。气氛紧绷得几乎可以触摸，兔子扔掉了苍白男的头皮，弗兰克则摆出了马伽术的格斗架势。诡异的低语声在长廊中回荡，向一切生灵许诺甜美的毁灭。

“到我身后去，副总统先生。”巨人警惕地盯着兔子，对心震说道，“那是只阿富汗野兔。”

紧绷的沉默持续了好几秒，分外难熬。谁都没有勇气先动。毛绒玩偶的耳朵极具威胁地转向那个疯魔，弗兰克的手指则动个不停。瑞恩屏住呼吸，知道接下来几秒就将决定整个这一轮的命运。

然后……

然后，战斗打响了。兔子伸出刀爪，向前跃去，弗兰克也发出野兽般的咆哮，迎头冲上。大卫对歌利亚。机器人对机器人。男人对兔子。

这场史诗般的大战……

这场史诗般的大战，就不讲了，因为瑞恩跑了。

快递员意识到，只要被双方的交火波及，自己就得死，于是将时间暂停了十秒。他冲向弗兰克，贴地从巨人两腿之间滑过，随即迅速起身，朝走廊另一端逃去。

“我好爱好爱你！”他听见身后传来这样的声音。

而时间仍然停着。

不幸的是，时间刚一恢复，心震的触手臂就从天花板上抽下来，击中了瑞恩的躯干。他像一只等待猎物的蜘蛛，把自己牢牢挂在了上面。

多亏了狂暴药，瑞恩没有“感觉”到疼，却听见自己的一根肋骨受力折断。这一击将他打向走廊更深处，猩红的光芒一阵阵照亮了长廊。地堡震颤不已，弗兰克正发狂般地捶打地面和墙壁，试图抓住兔子，却全是徒劳。

“看来你还是个玻璃大炮啊，切萨雷。”心震若有所思地说，借着线缆纵身扑来，想将快递员钉在地上，“你能躲过一千次，却经不起几次失手。”

瑞恩勉强翻滚着躲过攻击，迅速爬起来，拔腿就跑。心震紧追不舍，把那两个恶魔留在身后继续厮杀。

瑞恩终于冲出走廊，进入了另一间地下室。灯具嵌在墙上遍布的黑色面板中；不久前才有人在这里流过血，金属地面上还留着血迹。附近的一面墙边排列着七座装满彩色液体的培养罐，每种灵药各对应一座。这些容器连着造型古怪的机器，其中三罐里装着变异动物。隔着液体，瑞恩很难看清它们的全貌，不过他还是认出了紫色罐子里的一只怪异生物：某种蜥蜴与狗的混合体，个头与杜宾犬相仿。实验室还有两道防爆门，一道开着，一道关着。

心震的触手朝瑞恩猛刺过来，而瑞恩的异能此时终于冷却完毕。快递员将时间暂停了短短两秒，纵身侧跃，躲过攻击；体内的药物帮他压制着断裂肋骨带来的疼痛。

“就这点本事？”瑞恩与疯魔相对而立，出言挑衅，“对付日本女学生就容易多了，是吧？”

“真有品位。”线缆乌贼回敬道，又射出一根触手。这次瑞恩没有躲，而是伸手抓住了它。借着狂暴药带来的力量增幅，他原地一转，把心震甩向附近的墙壁。疯魔稳住了身形，却随即停住不动了。

敞开的防爆门外，沉重的脚步声越来越近，某个庞然大物正走进地下实验室。

“哎呀呀，”一个带着浓重纽约口音的戏谑声音打断了战斗，“瞧瞧这是谁啊？”

一道庞大的身影跨过了破损的防爆门，身高和块头虽不及弗兰克，却也相差无几。那是个肥胖的疯魔，异能可以将皮肤变成坚不可摧的黑色碳合金，现身时就已经完成了变身。他的身体已严重变异，脸上伤疤累累，长着河马般突出的牙齿。他穿得像个五十年代的人，不过衣服上有好几个还在冒烟的窟窿，大概是激光打出来的。

而他的眼睛……那双棕色眼睛里，闪动着阴险的狡诈与恶毒的自恋。他只瞥了心震一眼，后者便立即一声不吭地俯首听命。

“大坏蛋亚当，”瑞恩拿腔拿调地说道，“终于又见到你这肥膘本尊了。”

“哎哟，咱们这儿又出了个马克·吐温。”这只活气球反唇相讥，“好犀利的机锋。奥斯卡·王尔德都要为你骄傲了，小伙子。”

这是最糟糕的一类罪犯。

有幽默感的那一类。

“你在上头闹得可不小啊，蠢货。”亚当把左手藏在背后，只露着右手，“我从监控里看你有一阵子了。抱歉没能亲自迎接，我正忙着办要紧事呢。”

“好吧，死胖子，既然咱们已经加深了了解，不如边吃晚饭，边聊聊你打算用机器人大军征服新罗马的计划？”

亚当低笑起来。“你带着窃听器呢。”他琢磨道，“他们这么说的时候，身上总带着窃听器。抱歉啊，伙计，别指望我给你来一段解说。”

好吧，总值得试试。

“等等，且慢且慢，你说咱们是又见面了？”亚当打了个响指，“你是血流的儿子。切塞尔什么的。”

“切萨雷。”心震说道。他显然已经迫不及待地想攻击瑞恩，不过还算识相，知道得顺着老大。

“就为了这个，闹出这么大的动静？”大胖亚当挑起眉毛，问快递员，附近的走廊里正回荡着爆炸声，“来算旧账？都是陈年旧事了，伙计。陈年旧事。”

“其实就是一时冲动。”瑞恩耸耸肩。

“好吧，不管怎么说，你闯进我家，对我的手下大开杀戒，这笔账我可得跟你亲自算算，伙计。你到站了，小子。”

“行吧，反正我也玩开心了。那我就自爆好了。”

“伙计，你那条漂亮腰带可炸不死我们。”亚当咧嘴笑了，眼里却没有一丝笑意，“但你活不了。”

“那就决一死战？”瑞恩活动脚步，空挥了几拳，“我正来劲，打上几个回合没问题。”

“不会有什么战斗，小鬼。你看，你搞错了一件事。媒体叫我大亚当，是因为他们不敢正视我的本质。不过，我真正的名号……”他笑起来，露出嘴唇后面的三排尖牙，“是食人魔亚当。”

他亮出了左手，瑞恩猛地一缩。

亚当的手指间攥着一个被打得浑身是血的少年，最多十四岁；大概是锈镇的居民，明显有阿拉伯或土耳其血统。俘虏的眼角挂着惊恐的泪水，用目光恳求瑞恩救他。

“虽然我更喜欢吃法国菜，”亚当恶毒地笑着，双手像拿三明治一样握住俘虏，“不过烤肉卷也能将就。”

他张开嘴，准备一口咬掉俘虏的脑袋。

瑞恩疯狂思索眼前的局面，时间仿佛慢了下来，这甚至不是他的异能所致。那显然是个陷阱，是为了搅乱他的心神而使出的残酷一招。反正快递员这一趟已经走得够远，试图救下少年也多半会失败。冒险施救，可能让他赔上一切；还不如牺牲人质，脱身继续探索地堡。

但有些底线，哪怕不用承担后果，瑞恩也不能越过。一旦越过，就会一路滑下去。

快递员冻结时间，冲向亚当，用尽全力一拳打向食人魔的手。

拳头碎了。

是他自己的拳头。撞击的瞬间，拳拳和瑞恩的骨头一同碎裂。

时间恢复时，快递员甚至没看清亚当击中自己胸膛的那一拳。他只听见撞击声，以及肋骨和脊椎不堪重负、相继断裂的声音。这一击没有引爆炸弹腰带，却将快递员打得飞了出去，撞上蓝色培养罐。玻璃应声裂开，液体顺着瑞恩的身体滴落。

狂暴的药效让他免受疼痛之苦，可快递员也已经感觉不到自己的双腿。他咳出血来，一股温热的液体正灌满他的肺。

“你们这些殉道者都一个样。”亚当嘲弄道，用手指搔弄俘虏的头发，像在逗弄宠物，“你停下杀戮、去救我们那些试验品的时候，我就知道你会这么做了。心震，在他一命呜呼之前，把他的脑袋撬开。我要知道是谁派这小伙子来对付我们的。”

“闭上眼睛，切萨雷。”心震满怀快意地说，触手缠上瑞恩的脖子，将他提离地面，“不看就容易多了。”

到头了。好吧，这一趟玩得挺开心，尽管最后这几秒糟透了。

瑞恩大声喊出了自己的安全词。

“加·加·宾克斯！”

腰带嘀了一声，随即在烈焰迸发的爆炸中，将他和心震一同炸得粉碎。

---

瑞恩的假期就这样结束了。

他回到了几小时前，开车驶向雷内斯科的酒吧，感觉自己就像一场酩酊大醉之后，第二天还得出门上班的人。玩也玩够了，现在该重新认真起来了。

要不要再走一轮迪纳米斯路线，深挖他们与超能帮的关系？他隐约觉得，就算他想办法把汉尼胖·莱克特和那帮打手从新罗马抹个干净，这层关系也迟早会产生影响。

然而，瑞恩目前只想到了一个能彻底杀死心震的办法，而这个选项是奥古斯蒂路线专属的。快递员在那条路线上已经走得相当远了，也想看看那场派对究竟会如何发展。

于是，瑞恩准备重返奥古斯蒂路线……

直到他想起，自己还得再去见蕾恩。

为了维持事件原有的顺序，他得说同样的话，做同样的事，再经历同样的心碎，直到这一切成了例行公事。每一种感受，每一个特别的瞬间，都会被掏空内涵，失去独特之处。一份长久以来的羁绊，就这样变成一套流程。

就像其他一切。

瑞恩找了个最近的空位把车停下，双手搭在方向盘上。他就这样坐了几秒，试着理清思绪。他打开时空收音机，放了点末日后布鲁斯作背景音乐。

“蕾恩。”快递员突然开口，“我知道你在听，小矮个。在看着我。你一定在，不管用的是什么办法。”

没有回应，周围的世界也没有任何变化。但瑞恩继续说了下去。

“你那套海底公寓里，沙发旁边有张桌子。你现在正在读卡尔·马克思、黑格尔的书，还有那本你在威尼斯找到的《海底两万里》。这些书你留了这么多年，因为你是个船迷，这一点永远不会变。”

瑞恩望向窗外，阳光洒在平静的地中海上。他没看见任何人从水面探出头来。也许她在，也许不在。

“我知道，是因为我去过那里。就像我知道，你在给锈镇的孤儿们送钱送物资，还想把他们接到你的海底设施里。在你认定我瞬移去过那里，或者以为这是部跟踪狂恐怖片之前，我要告诉你一个秘密。我的秘密。”

瑞恩吸了口气，抛出了那颗重磅炸弹。

“蕾恩，我的意识可以穿越时间。回溯得不远，但我能一遍又一遍地重过同一段经历。在那个改变一切的日子里，我喝下了紫色灵药，它给了我这种能力。在你看来，只过去了四年，可对我呢？已经过去了许多辈子。我活的年头，大概比大多数国家的历史都长了。我忘掉的东西，比你一辈子能学到的还多。但我从没有哪怕一次忘记过你。”

瞧，他居然也开始肉麻兮兮、多愁善感了。这感觉很奇怪，仿佛快递员卸下了一副在肩上压了好多天的重担。

“我……”这些都是真心话，瑞恩反而很难找到合适的字句。他从来不擅长这个，哪怕在开始循环之前也是如此。“我知道你为什么不想见我。你在另一段如今已经被抹去的历史里告诉过我。为什么光是看见我，就会让你受伤。你恨我，是因为我对你父亲做的事，也是因为我会让你想起那些糟糕的日子。而我……我理解。我理解。”

光是想起那次谈话，依旧让他心痛，但他理解。

“我想帮你，蕾恩。因为我……因为我在乎你。但我不知道该怎么帮。从来都不知道。有人说我该坚持下去，有人说我应该让你追寻自己的命运，不去干涉。可……可我不想去找出那个最好的办法，蕾恩。因为那就意味着无数次试错。我们会一遍又一遍地重复同样的对话，你会忘掉一切，而我们共度的每一个特别的瞬间，对我而言都会变成例行公事。你将不再是朋友，而是一个目标。”

仍然没有回应。

“我不想那样对你。”瑞恩坚持着说了下去，“所以，如果……如果你在听，如果我们还有一丝机会能够和好，找到办法绕过我这个诅咒，请给我一个信号。不然……不然，我就不打扰你了。我还是会采取行动，把那些孤儿从亚当和他的团伙手里救出来，但你再也不会听到我的消息。我会从你的生活里消失。因为再这样下去，会太痛苦了，对我们两个都是。”

他把目光转回车道。“所以，拜托，我求你，”瑞恩恳求道，“请给我一个信号。什么都行。”

他的额头磕在方向盘上。“别再留下我一个人。”

时间一秒秒、一分分地拖过去，四周只有车辆的声响。

没有听到回应，瑞恩叹了口气，重新镇定下来，准备再去开车碾一次食尸鬼。再等下去，快递员可能就来不及阻止那家伙大开杀戒了。

她的声音从时空收音机里传了出来。

“到孤儿院来见我。”