同章对照

“I win,” Ryan said, resting on the flower garden in the outer wall’s shadow.

“Again?” Geist complained, the ghost overseeing the game with a doubtful expression. Apparently, his phantom skull of a face could squint. “It’s impossible. How can I keep losing?”

Well, it was hard to catch someone capable of stopping time.

In the end, the trip to Bliss island had been a disappointment. Every time Ryan tried to ‘visit’ a restricted area beyond the walls and the gardens, armored guards or Geist kindly asked him to turn back. Though he memorized the patrols and turrets’ locations, the courier didn’t see any way to get inside the facility without starting a fight and ending the current run.

Eventually, he just settled into playing games with Geist in the plant garden outside the fortress, waiting for Vulcan and the others to finish their business. The ghost had happily played along, though he wasn’t very good. Ryan had the feeling the suicidal specter appreciated having some company.

“I really need a job as a drug cook,” Ryan told Geist. “Can’t you haunt Cardinal Creep until he gives in?”

“There’s only one cook, and it’s Ceres,” Geist shrugged. “The rest of the facility supports her work, and nothing else.”

Ryan figured as much. Narcinia’s power made it easy for her to create new plants to harvest as raw material. Even this entire garden, capable of thriving in a toxic island, was probably her work. “So if she retires, no more Bliss?”

“Sort of,” Geist replied. “Father Torque has enough flower strains to continue the work even if she’s gone, though the quality will take a hit.”

“You shouldn’t say that out loud.” Ryan didn’t even move an inch, as Mortimer leaned over his shoulder, having phased out of the ground. “Walls have ears.”

“Do you want to play?” the courier casually asked the bodyguard. “It’s funnier when there are three players, and the guards are humorless killjoys.”

“You are no fun, no fun at all,” the hitman said, disappointed that he couldn’t startle Ryan no matter how hard he tried.

“Shouldn’t you be inside?” Geist asked, telekinetically crafting a chair out of nearby stones and dirt.

“Sparrow asked me to check on him,” Mortimer said, glancing at Ryan while sitting on the makeshift chair. “She was worried he might start a forest fire or something.”

“That’s demeaning,” Ryan said. “Sometimes I settle for nuclear winters.”

“They make me want to glow in the dark,” the hitman replied, looking at the game. “What are you playing?”

Ryan showed Mortimer bird talus bones. The hitman glanced at the bones, then at Casper the Ghost. “Knucklebones, really?”

“It’s to stick with the ghost theme,” the courier replied. “Want to play? It’s an old variant, a pure game of luck.”

Mortimer shrugged and grabbed some of the bones. “We should play cards next,” he said.

“Or use a Ouija board,” Ryan suggested, glancing at Casper. “Should be easy.”

“How does it even work?” Mortimer asked Geist, as he threw the bones with the force of his mind. “You need to settle some unfinished business before moving on?”

“Bite me,” Casper the Ghost explained. “I drank a Yellow Elixir on Last Easter, but it didn’t come with a manual. Hell, I thought I didn’t get any power until Mechron’s nanoplague turned my body to dust. I got the briefest glimpse of an afterlife, and then I was yanked back to that dumpster and bound to my mortal remains.”

“And you can’t leave the island?” Mortimer asked, throwing his bones on the ground. “Mortimer likes haunted houses. I could bury you in my garden.”

“I can’t go far, no,” Geist lamented. “My remains are all over the place now, so good luck putting it back together. Even Cancel only goes as far as preventing me from manifesting, and Pluto's power needs someone to be alive in the first place.”

If you asked Ryan, besides that geographic limitation, Casper had hit the jackpot as far as Yellow Elixirs went. Unlimited ectoplasmic powers plus immortality? That was a life to die for! Ryan laughed at his own mental joke, much to the others’ confusion.

“Frankly, I’m just a groundskeeper cleaning up the place, waiting for the end,” Geist said before throwing more bones on the ground. It would explain his casual attitude about the crime family’s secrets, especially if they couldn’t kill him permanently. “Father Torque says he’s close to achieving Heaven though.”

“Poor Mortimer sent many people there,” the hitman said. “And to the place below too.”

“I haven’t reached any of those places, and I tried a lot,” Ryan said, winning another Knucklebones round, and fairly this time.

“Father Torque saw God when he took his Elixir,” Geist said, and he sounded like he believed it too. “He thinks a powerful psychotropic like Bliss could replicate the effect and allow him to receive a divine revelation. Not sure if it will work, but a ghost can always hope.”

“I hope Ceres can solve all the long-term health problems before he overdoses on Bliss though,” Ryan said. “Especially the sterility thing. Though I guess it won’t matter much to a priest.”

“Sterility?” Geist asked, a bit surprised.

“I know health safety isn’t high among your priorities, but trust me, don’t get high on your own product.” Ryan had studied all drugs in-depth... for research purposes only. “Among other side-effects, Bliss acts as a long-term endocrine disruptor, working on a genetic level. Genomes aren’t affected much due to their enhanced metabolism, but everyone else more or less becomes sterile after one year.”

“Oh, that?” Mortimer shrugged. “I heard the rumor, but if you ask Poor Ol’ Mortimer, it’s just Dynamis propaganda. They can’t make a better product so they denigrate ours.”

Ryan looked at the hitman, squinted, and then stopped time.

When it resumed, the courier had grabbed Mortimer’s mask and looked beneath.

His true face looked a lot like Laurence Fishburne's. Same receding hairline, same soft features, same Morpheus glare.

“Hey, my secret identity!” Mortimer complained while grabbing back his skull mask.

“You aren’t even old!” Ryan complained, extremely disappointed. He must have been in his early forties at worst! “You’re thirty years early to be such a downer!”

“Poor Mortimer is old inside,” the hitman replied, putting back the mask. “He’s an old soul!”

More like an emo teen's soul in an adult’s body.

Before Ryan could mock the hitman further, his phone rang inside his coat. The courier grabbed it but didn’t recognize the number. “Quicksave Deliveries, what can I do for you?” he asked while taking the call.

“Riri?”

“Shortie?” Wait, Len had a phone?

“Is that your goomah?” Mortimer asked mockingly, still sore about the mask part. “Vulcan won’t be happy about that.”

Ryan threw the bones at Mortimer’s face while walking away, and they bounced off the cackling hitman’s mask. Maybe his intangibility only worked through inorganic matter.

“I couldn’t contact you on the Chronoradio,” Len said. Her voice was tense, alarmed, and Ryan could hear the children talking in the background. “You are on Ischia Island?”

“The only habitable part of it,” he replied, leaning against the outer wall. “You know Vulcan can probably record our conversations? Everything you say will be held against you before in a court of law.”

“I couldn’t wait,” she said, clearly in no mood for jokes, “My radars picked tremors coming from Rust Town, and multiple flying objects moving towards Ischia Island.”

Oh? Were the Meta climbing out of their hole? Ryan wasn’t sure if this was good or bad news.

Before he could ask for details, someone else called him; once again, the courier didn’t recognize the number.

“Excuse me, Shortie, I will be back in a minute,” Ryan said, before switching calls. “Quicksave Deliveries, what can I do for you? Pay for four explosions, and the fifth one is free!”

“You owe me a suit, Romano.”

Blackthorn.

“I hope you appreciate, that everything-”

“-everything that happens now, will be on your head,” Ryan said at the same time as his caller.

“You think this is-”

“-a game?” Ryan said at the same time, their words matching with perfect synchronicity. Enrique Manada fell silent on the other side of the line; the courier briefly wondered if he had been vexed. “I’m sorry, but after a while, you’ve heard them all. You should stick to gardening, Poison Rosy.”

“I see this isn’t your first rodeo, Romano, but this will be your last.”

“I’m not sure if you use a marketing department for your speeches, but I would fire them if I were you.” Though Ryan was flattered to have earned himself an archenemy. “Have you called to exchange threats? Perhaps challenge me to a duel to restore your lost honor?”

“Nothing so old-fashioned,” the corporate mastermind replied, considering his next words. “In truth, I wanted to thank you. You succeeded where I failed for years.”

That was a new one. “Looking fabulous?”

“You people mistake pragmatism for weakness,” Enrique said, ignoring Ryan’s jab. “You think that because we let you be for so long, that we are prey. You’re wrong. We simply know that war is bad for business. War has no winners, only different shades of losers.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“My father is a pragmatic man,” Enrique explained. “He believes we can have a ‘detente’ with your boss, but my brother and I know better. You Augusti aren’t a state or corporation we can coexist with. You are feudal warlords who only understand strength. And after you dared to attack our HQ, Don Hector finally decided to speak your language. Consider what’s about to follow… a friendly reminder not to overstep again.”

Well, that was ominous. “Is this about the suit? Or revenge for the public humiliation?”

“No, Romano, this goes beyond that.” Blackthorn’s composure broke slightly, and his true feelings poured through the corporate mask. “We have struggled for years to rebuild a functioning society. Now we are at a crossroads, with two visions facing off. The one that prevails will dictate what new world emerges from the Earth’s ashes... and I cannot, in good conscience, let Augustus become humanity’s future.”

To be honest, he had a point... at least in theory. “Take a look at Rust Town,” Ryan replied, completely unimpressed. “See where your high-minded words meet reality.”

“We don’t always succeed at improving things, I will concede it, but the difference between my organization and yours is that at least we try.” Another short pause. “Have you heard of Giorgio Rosa, Romano?”

Giorgio Rosa, Giorgio Rosa… the Republic of Rose Island? “That crazy guy who built an oil platform in the middle sea and called it an independent nation?”

“You are a man of culture,” Enrique said, his tone switching from icy to extremely pleased. “I assume you also remember what happened to his rogue island?”

Ryan frowned, before looking at the sea. Black spots appeared in the skies, flying under the sun towards the island. “It was sunk by the Italian government?”

Blackthorn hung up on him.

Ryan switched back to Len. “Riri? What’s happening?”

“Say whatever you want about Dynamis,” Ryan said, a strident alarm echoing across Ischia Island as the spots started taking shape. “They aren’t all bark.”

Thirty war helicopters were making their way towards the Bliss production facility, moving in three groups of ten. Ryan recognized the model as customized NH90s, optimized for troop transports and naval warfare. They probably transported three hundred soldiers, perhaps more.

“That’s a lot of mooks,” Ryan observed. It reminded him of the Rust Town raid, except he was on the receiving end this time.

“I’m coming,” Len said, before abruptly ending the call.

Ryan slowly put the cellphone back in its pocket, while Geist looked up at the skies. Besides the helicopters, a few Genomes followed the assault team by flight. Besides the usual suspect Wyvern, who hadn’t transformed yet, Ryan noticed a man wearing a fabulous hawk-like costume made of crimson and green feathers; the very winds seemed to carry him above the ground, with a small tornado forming around his waist. A red-skinned, muscled amazon followed, unleashing streams of flames from her feet to propel herself up. A devilish tail grew out of her pants, and two curved horns from her long black hair. Her skin-tight, suggestive leather suit reminded Ryan of a biker advertisement.

“Well, well,” Mortimer said, rising from his chair, bringing out a rifle hidden beneath his cloak, “that ain’t good at all. And Windsweep’s back in town!”

“Devilry too,” Casper said, looking at the red-skinned woman. Windsweep was the template of the Tempest Knockoff Elixirs, and Devilry had inspired the pyrokinetic Firebrand type. Dynamis had summoned Il Migliore’s elite team.

Maybe they brought Felix the Cat too?

The guards protecting the island’s walls had immediately raised their weapons, while the turrets around the fortress turned towards the helicopters. Instead of powering through and starting a fight immediately, Dynamis’ troops stopped at a respectable distance, waiting for a signal before opening fire.

Wyvern moved at the army’s vanguard, carrying a megaphone; out of everyone present, she looked the happiest. Knowing the heroine, she must have been waiting for a pretext to attack the island for a long time.

“Quicksave!” Wyvern spoke through the megaphone, her voice echoing across the skies. “Jasmine! You are under arrest for staging a terrorist attack against Dynamis’ labs! Both of you, step outside, hands behind the head!”

So what, they could let Vulcan trying to murder Ryan in a past loop slide, but not the theft of a suit? Then again, it was cashmere.

Most probably, it was the public nature of the heist that pissed off Dynamis. An attempted murder off-cameras could be swept under the rug, but a public affront had to be met with a harsh response to save face.

“Fuck off, Laura!” Vulcan’s furious voice echoed from the fortress, carried by loudspeakers. She must have noticed the incoming army on her radars long before it showed up. “I’m barely keeping my thumb from the trigger right now!”

“If you both come without resisting, you shall remain unharmed and we will leave this island peacefully,” Wyvern said, her gaze focusing on Ryan. “Otherwise...”

She left the sentence hanging, all the defensive turrets pointed at her.

“Can I pay you to look the other way?” Ryan asked, raising euro bills like a white flag.

“You are fighting for the wrong side, Quicksave,” Wyvern replied, completely unfazed by his taunts. “But suit yourself. I’ve daydreamed about wrecking that death factory for over two years.”

“I would like to see you yuppies try,” Mortimer added, the walls trembling while Geist’s skull face transformed into a ghastly vision of hell. “Mortimer has been itching for blood lately, and he wonders if you bleed red or green.”

“I will say it again, Laura,” Vulcan’s voice echoed through the loudspeakers, a turret firing a warning shot into the sea. “Fuck. Off!”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said regretfully, straightening his coat. “But giving you back that suit would be a legit war crime.”

“I will take this as a no,” Wyvern said, more pleased than anything. “Good. I no longer have to hold back.”

The heroine quickly tossed the megaphone into the sea and started changing shape, growing into an enormous dragon.

“To be honest,” the mighty beast roared, her powerful voice carrying across the island. “I have never done a drug bust this big before!”

As both the turrets and helicopters opened fire at each other, Ryan stopped time, moved back to Mortimer’s chair, and turned it to face the sea. The courier sat, put his hands behind his hair, and let time resume to watch the fireworks.

Shroud had wanted this island wrecked.

And Ryan always delivered.

“我赢了。”瑞恩说。他正待在外墙阴影下的花园里休息。

“又赢了？”幽魂抱怨道，满脸狐疑地俯视着这场游戏。看来他那张幽灵骷髅脸居然还能眯眼。“不可能。我怎么会一直输？”

这个嘛，想抓住一个能暂停时间的人出千，确实不容易。

到头来，这趟极乐岛之行颇让人失望。每当瑞恩想离开城墙和花园，去“参观”某处禁区，装甲卫兵或幽魂就会客客气气地请他回头。虽说记下了巡逻路线和炮塔的位置，可快递员实在看不出，有什么办法能在不引发战斗、不结束这一轮循环的前提下进入设施内部。

最后，他索性在堡垒外的植物园里陪幽魂玩起了游戏，等伏尔甘他们办完事。幽魂欣然奉陪，只是玩得不怎么样。瑞恩觉得，这个一心求死的鬼魂其实很高兴有人作伴。

“我真的很需要一份制毒师的工作。”瑞恩对幽魂说，“你就不能去缠着那位阴森红衣主教，缠到他答应为止？”

“制毒师只有一个，就是刻瑞斯。”幽魂耸了耸肩，“设施里其他所有部分都只是为她的工作提供支持，没别的用途。”

瑞恩也猜到了。纳尔西妮娅的能力让她能轻易创造出新植物，收获之后就能当作原料。就连这整座能在剧毒岛屿上蓬勃生长的花园，多半也是她的手笔。“所以，她要是退休了，就再也没有极乐了？”

“差不多吧。”幽魂答道，“托尔克神父手上有足够多的花卉品系，就算她不在，也能继续生产，不过品质会下降。”

“这种事可不该大声说出来。”莫蒂默从地面穿出，俯身凑到瑞恩肩旁，瑞恩却连动都没动一下。“隔墙有耳。”

“要一起玩吗？”快递员随口问这位保镖，“三个人玩更有意思，那些卫兵一个个都没半点幽默感，只会扫兴。”

“你真没意思，一点意思都没有。”杀手说。不管怎么费劲都吓不到瑞恩，让他很失望。

“你不是该待在里面吗？”幽魂问着，用念动力把附近的石头和泥土拼成了一张椅子。

“麻雀让我来看看他。”莫蒂默坐上那张临时做的椅子，瞥了瑞恩一眼，“她担心他会弄出场森林大火什么的。”

“太小瞧人了。”瑞恩说，“有时候我也会退而求其次，弄个核冬天。”

“核冬天让我想在黑暗中发光。”杀手答道，低头看了看这场游戏，“你们在玩什么？”

瑞恩给莫蒂默看了看鸟的距骨。杀手看看骨头，又看看幽灵卡斯珀。“掷骨子？不是吧？”

“为了配合幽灵主题嘛。”快递员答道，“要玩吗？这是种古老的玩法，纯靠运气。”

莫蒂默耸了耸肩，抓起几枚骨子。“下回我们该玩牌。”他说。

“或者玩通灵板。”瑞恩提议，瞟了卡斯珀一眼，“应该很容易。”

骨子在意念之力的推动下掷了出去，莫蒂默问幽魂：“你这到底是怎么回事？得先了结什么未竟之事，才能往生吗？”

“去你的。”幽灵卡斯珀解释道，“我在最后的复活节喝了一瓶黄色灵药，可它也没附说明书。妈的，我一直以为自己什么能力都没得到，直到梅克隆的纳米瘟疫把我的身体化成了尘土。我只来得及瞥见一眼来世，就被一把拽回这个垃圾堆，绑在了自己的遗骸上。”

“所以你没法离开这座岛？”莫蒂默问着，把自己的骨子掷在地上，“莫蒂默喜欢鬼屋。我可以把你埋在我家花园里。”

“是啊，我走不远。”幽魂哀叹道，“我的遗骸现在到处都是，想重新凑齐就祝你好运吧。就连消除者也只能阻止我现身，而普鲁托的能力得在人还活着的时候才能起作用。”

要瑞恩说，除了这条地理限制，卡斯珀在黄色灵药里简直中了头奖。无限的灵质能力，再加上不死之身？这种日子，真是死了都值！瑞恩被自己心里的笑话逗乐了，另外两人却一头雾水。

“说白了，我也就是个看园子的，打扫打扫这里，等着一切结束。”幽魂说完，又往地上掷了几枚骨子。这倒能解释他为什么对这个犯罪家族的秘密如此随便；要是他们根本没法彻底杀死他，那就更说得通了。“不过，托尔克神父说，他已经快要触及天堂了。”

“可怜的莫蒂默送过不少人上去。”杀手说，“下面那个地方也送过。”

“那两个地方我都没到过，虽说我试过好多次。”瑞恩说着，又赢了一轮掷骨子，而且这次没作弊。

“托尔克神父服用灵药时见到了上帝。”幽魂说，听语气，他还真信了。“他认为，像极乐这么强效的精神药物可以重现那种效果，让他得到神启。不知道能不能成，不过，鬼总得有点盼头。”

“那我希望，在他吸极乐吸过量之前，刻瑞斯能解决所有长期健康隐患。”瑞恩说，“尤其是不育的问题。不过我猜，对神父来说，这大概无所谓。”

“不育？”幽魂问，有些吃惊。

“我知道健康安全在你们的考虑里排不上号，但信我一句，别拿自家产品吸着玩。”瑞恩深入研究过各种毒品……纯粹是为了科研。“除了其他副作用，极乐还是一种长期的内分泌干扰物，会在基因层面起作用。基因者的代谢能力得到过强化，受影响不大，但其他人用上一年，基本都会变得不育。”

“哦，那个啊？”莫蒂默耸了耸肩，“这传言我听过，可要是你问可怜的老莫蒂默，他会说那不过是迪纳米斯的宣传。他们做不出更好的产品，就诋毁我们的。”

瑞恩看着杀手，眯起眼睛，随后暂停了时间。

等时间恢复流动，快递员已经摘下莫蒂默的面具，往底下看去。

他的真容很像劳伦斯·菲什伯恩。同样后退的发际线，同样柔和的五官，连瞪人的眼神都跟墨菲斯一模一样。

“喂，我的秘密身份！”莫蒂默抱怨着，一把抢回骷髅面具。

“你压根就不老！”瑞恩大失所望地抱怨道。这家伙顶多四十出头！“想这么暮气沉沉，你还早了三十年！”

“可怜的莫蒂默老的是心。”杀手答道，重新戴好面具，“他的灵魂老了！”

更像是个伤春悲秋的青春期少年，灵魂装进了成年人的身体。

瑞恩还没来得及继续嘲笑杀手，外套里的手机就响了。快递员拿出手机，却不认得来电号码。“快存速递，有什么可以效劳的？”他接起电话问道。

“瑞瑞？”

“小矮个？”等等，蕾恩居然有手机？

“你姘头打来的？”莫蒂默嘲弄地问，他还在为面具的事耿耿于怀。“伏尔甘知道可不会高兴。”

瑞恩一边走开，一边把骨子砸向莫蒂默的脸。杀手咯咯直笑，骨子撞上他的面具，弹了开来。也许他的穿透能力只对无机物有效。

“我用时空收音机联系不上你。”蕾恩说道。她的声音紧绷而惊慌，瑞恩还能听见背景里孩子们说话的声音。“你在伊斯基亚岛上？”

“在岛上唯一能住人的地方。”他靠着外墙答道，“你知道伏尔甘多半能录下我们的通话吧？你说的每一句话，都将成为法庭上对你不利的证据。”

“我等不了了。”她显然没心情开玩笑，“我的雷达探测到锈镇传来的震动，还有多个飞行物正在向伊斯基亚岛移动。”

哦？超能帮要从洞里爬出来了？瑞恩不确定这是好消息还是坏消息。

他还没来得及追问，又有人打来了电话；这一次，快递员还是不认得号码。

“抱歉，小矮个，稍等，我马上回来。”瑞恩说完，切换了通话。“快存速递，有什么可以效劳的？爆炸买四送一！”

“你欠我一套西装，罗马诺。”

黑棘。

“我希望你明白，接下来发生的一切——”

“——接下来发生的一切，都得算在你头上。”瑞恩和来电者同时说道。

“你以为这是——”

“——游戏？”瑞恩又一次跟对方同时开口，两人的话完美同步。电话那头的恩里克·马纳达沉默了；快递员不禁想了一瞬，自己是不是惹恼了他。“抱歉，不过听得久了，这些话也就全听过了。你还是老老实实去搞园艺吧，毒玫瑰。”

“看来你不是头一回经历这种事，罗马诺，不过这将是你的最后一回。”

“不知道你的发言稿是不是市场部写的，要我是你，就把他们全开了。”不过，能给自己招来一位宿敌，还是让瑞恩受宠若惊。“你打来是想互放狠话？还是打算找我决斗，挽回你丢掉的荣誉？”

“没那么老套。”这位公司的幕后操盘手答道，斟酌着接下来的措辞。“事实上，我想谢谢你。我多年来一直没办成的事，你办成了。”

这说法倒新鲜。“让自己帅得光彩夺目？”

“你们这种人，把务实当成了软弱。”恩里克无视瑞恩的嘲讽，继续说道。“你们以为，我们这么久没动你们，就说明我们是猎物。你们错了。我们只是明白，战争不利于生意。战争里没有赢家，只有输得多和输得少的区别。”

“我不太明白你的意思。”

“我父亲是个务实的人。”恩里克解释道。“他相信，跟你们的老板可以‘缓和关系’，可我和我的兄弟都知道没这回事。你们奥古斯蒂既不是国家，也不是企业，没法跟我们共存。你们是一群只认实力的封建军阀。而在你们胆敢袭击我们的总部之后，埃克托阁下终于决定用你们听得懂的语言说话了。接下来发生的事……就当是个友善的提醒，别再越界。”

好吧，这话听着可不妙。“因为那套西装？还是想报复我当众让你丢脸？”

“不，罗马诺，远不止这些。”黑棘的沉着略微裂开了一道缝，真实情绪透过那副企业面具流露出来。“多年来，我们一直在努力重建一个能够正常运转的社会。如今我们站在十字路口，两种愿景针锋相对。哪一种获胜，就将决定地球的灰烬中会诞生怎样的新世界……而我的良心不允许我放任奥古斯都成为人类的未来。”

老实说，他也不是全无道理……至少理论上如此。“去看看锈镇吧。”瑞恩不为所动地答道，“看看你那些冠冕堂皇的漂亮话，跟现实到底对不对得上。”

“我们并非总能成功改善现状，这一点我承认。但我的组织跟你们的区别在于，至少我们在尝试。”又是短暂的一顿。“你听说过乔治奥·罗萨吗，罗马诺？”

乔治奥·罗萨，乔治奥·罗萨……玫瑰岛共和国？“那个在海上造了座石油平台，然后宣布它是独立国家的疯子？”

“你很有文化。”恩里克说，语气从冰冷转为极其愉悦。“想必你也记得，他那座不法小岛最后怎么样了？”

瑞恩皱起眉头，转眼望向大海。空中出现了几个黑点，正从烈日下向岛屿飞来。“被意大利政府炸沉了？”

黑棘挂断了电话。

瑞恩切回蕾恩的通话。“瑞瑞？出什么事了？”

“迪纳米斯这帮人，别的随你怎么说，”瑞恩说道。黑点逐渐显出了轮廓，尖厉的警报在伊斯基亚岛上回荡。“他们可不只是嘴上叫得凶。”

三十架军用直升机正向极乐生产设施逼近，分成三组，每组十架。瑞恩认出那是定制改装的NH90，专门为运兵和海战做了优化。机上大概载着三百名士兵，或许还不止。

“杂兵还真不少。”瑞恩评价道。这让他想起了锈镇突袭，只不过这次挨打的是他。

“我这就来。”蕾恩说完，猛地挂断了电话。

瑞恩慢慢把手机放回口袋，幽魂也抬头看向天空。除了直升机，还有几个基因者正伴随突击队飞来。除了意料之中、尚未变身的双足飞龙，瑞恩还看见一个男人，穿着一身由深红和绿色羽毛制成的华丽鹰形装束；仿佛连风都在托着他凌空而行，腰间还盘着一道小型龙卷风。一个皮肤赤红、肌肉结实的女战士紧随其后，脚底喷出道道火焰，推动自己升空。一条恶魔般的尾巴从她裤子里伸出，两只弯角探出黑色长发。她那身紧贴着身体、引人遐想的皮衣，让瑞恩想起了摩托车广告。

“哎呀，哎呀，”莫蒂默从椅子上站起来，掏出一支藏在斗篷底下的步枪，“这下可真不妙。连风卷都回城了！”

“还有邪魔。”卡斯珀看着那个红皮肤女人说。风卷是暴风型仿制灵药的模板，而邪魔则是控火的火种型所仿照的原型。迪纳米斯把至优者的精英小队召来了。

说不定他们还带上了菲利克斯猫？

守卫岛屿城墙的士兵立刻举起武器，堡垒四周的炮塔也转向了直升机。迪纳米斯的部队却没有强行突进、立刻开打，而是在相当远的位置停住，等待开火信号。

双足飞龙拿着一个扩音喇叭，飞到了部队最前方；在场所有人里，数她最开心。以瑞恩对这位女英雄的了解，她肯定早就在等一个进攻这座岛的借口了。

“快存！”双足飞龙通过扩音喇叭喊道，声音在天空回荡。“贾丝敏！你们对迪纳米斯的实验室发动了恐怖袭击，现在被捕了！你们两个都出来，双手放在脑后！”

怎么着，伏尔甘在之前一轮里想杀瑞恩，他们能睁只眼闭只眼，偷套西装却不行？不过话说回来，那可是羊绒的。

最有可能惹恼迪纳米斯的，还是这场劫案闹得人尽皆知。没被镜头拍下的谋杀未遂可以压下去，但当众受辱，就必须用强硬的回应挽回颜面。

“滚你妈的，劳拉！”伏尔甘愤怒的声音借着扬声器从堡垒里传来。这支军队还没现身，她一定早就在雷达上发现了。“我现在拇指都快按上扳机了！”

“只要你们两个束手就擒，就不会受伤，我们也会和平地撤离这座岛。”双足飞龙说着，目光锁定了瑞恩。“否则……”

她没有说完，所有防御炮塔都指着她。

“能不能收点钱，当没看见？”瑞恩举起欧元钞票，像举着一面白旗。

“你站错边了，快存。”双足飞龙丝毫不受他挑衅的影响，“不过，随你的便。我做梦都想拆了这座死亡工厂，已经想了两年多了。”

“我倒想看看你们这些雅皮士有多大能耐。”莫蒂默插嘴道。城墙震颤起来，幽魂的骷髅脸化作了一幕骇人的地狱景象。“莫蒂默最近正渴望见血呢，他想知道，你们流的是红血，还是绿血。”

“我再说一遍，劳拉。”伏尔甘的声音从扬声器里传出，一座炮塔朝海上打出一发警告弹。“滚。蛋！”

“对不起。”瑞恩满怀遗憾地说着，理了理外套，“可要把这套西装还给你们，那就真成战争罪了。”

“我就当你拒绝了。”双足飞龙说，语气里更多的倒是高兴。“很好。我不用再留手了。”

女英雄迅速把扩音喇叭扔进海里，开始变形，身躯膨胀成了一头巨龙。

“说实话，”这头强大的巨兽咆哮道，洪亮的声音传遍全岛，“这么大规模的缉毒行动，我还真是头一回干！”

炮塔和直升机同时朝对方开火，瑞恩则暂停时间，回到莫蒂默的椅子旁，把椅子转向大海。快递员坐了下来，双手枕在脑后，让时间恢复流动，开始欣赏烟花。

裹尸布想要这座岛被毁掉。

而瑞恩向来使命必达。