同章对照

Scratching Eugène-Henry’s ears, Ryan mentally rehearsed his villain speech. He had put on the war hat, and prepared for battle.

Since Frank and the improved Mosquito were too big for the presidential van, the group instead switched to a light black truck and put the heavy-hitters in the back. Tea drove with a bandit’s hood covering her face, which made the android look like a hostage-taker. Sarin sat at the front, while Ryan kept the second row of seats for himself.

“Ah,” the Doll said while she looked at the road. “I feel nostalgic. It reminds me of the times we went out on picnics outside the farm.”

“Except with more mayhem,” Ryan added, his cat meowing on his lap. “And property damage.”

“This better be worth it,” Sarin said while typing on a tablet. “Even with the bunker under our control, we’re taking on Dynamis. The gov.”

“No, we’re putting big business back in its place,” Ryan replied. “If my plan works, and it will work, Dynamis will be too busy tearing itself apart to target us. Besides, Hector’s ultimatum ends today. Either we leave, or he does.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” His second-in-command marked a short pause, as she looked at the road. “Ryan, that bloody thing on the video... it’s inside all of us?”

“Inside everyone who took a Knockoff Elixir.” Which according to his calculations, covered around ten percent of New Rome’s population. Knockoffs cost a lot, but not as much as a house, and both Dynamis and Augustus made extensive use of the substance to bolster their forces.

One in every ten people they crossed on the street could become a Bloodstream clone at any moment.

“So almost all the gang,” Sarin said. “Whoever thought it was a good idea deserves to get shot.”

“Tobacco companies kill half their clients,” Ryan replied. Knowing Darth Manada, he probably thought the profit margin was worth the risk.

“They can’t get away with it,” Tea argued. “That’s monstrous.”

“Agreed.” Sarin nodded sharply. “And besides, they refused to pay us after all the risks we took fighting Augustus. Sweet revenge it is.”

“Sarin, Darling, are the videos ready?” Ryan asked.

“Yes, but Dynamis will probably take them down within minutes. They control the Dynanet and the airwaves.”

“Most, but not all of them,” Ryan said, as the truck stopped to pick up the crew’s last member. She opened the door to the courier’s left, and climbed inside the car.

For her first villain outing, Livia had settled on something simple, yet elegant: a black lounge suit with a red shirt and necktie underneath, alongside a Daft Punk-inspired helmet with the same color scheme. The outfit, while unable to hide her feminine curves, gave her a stylish androgynous look.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ryan introduced his new sidekick. “I present to you the one and only First Lady of our presidential regime, Queen Crimson!”

“Greetings,” Livia shyly introduced herself to the group. “I… I’m honored to meet you all.”

“Welcome, I’m the Doll!” Tea introduced herself warmly, while Sarin let out a grunt. “We’re going to have a fun time, you’ll see!”

The gynoid sounded disturbingly eager to participate in a criminal enterprise.

“Mr. President.” Ryan turned his head, Frank glancing through the window separating the light truck’s seats from its cargo. “Are you a Mormon?”

“No, though I will probably have to call myself a god at one point.” He couldn’t finish a villain run without one megalomaniacal speech or two. “Why such a question, Agent Frank?”

“You have the new and old First Ladies in the same car,” the giant explained. “Unless one of them is an intern?”

“I have only one wife, Agent Frank,” Ryan said, looking into the giant’s eyes. “And her name… is AMERICA!”

Well, the courier once had a rockstar phase with all the debauchery it implied. By the loop’s end, he had so many groupies, he didn’t remember half of them and could no longer walk straight. However, mindless sex’s novelty had quickly worn out. Ryan preferred an exclusive, intimate relationship with one person; something with a deeper connection than superficial lust.

He was looking for a soulmate.

“The Underdiver won’t be joining us?” Livia asked, a bit curious.

Ryan’s mood instantly worsened. “No, she won’t.”

After the disastrous Knockoff test, Shortie had locked herself in her room and refused to leave it. She didn’t let anyone inside, not even Ryan or Sarah. While the Genius had loved her father, in the end, that relationship was an open wound that never healed. All the progress she had made in the last loop seemed to have been washed away by the fear and the pain.

And Ryan could only help her if she let him in.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Livia said, upon sensing his unease. “I didn’t mean…”

“Queen, I love your costume!” Tea said at the front, trying to guide the conversation towards less awkward grounds. “Especially the French-techno style!”

“Oh, thank you.” Livia joined her gloved hands together, and though Ryan couldn’t see her face beneath the helmet, he would have bet his hand that she looked embarrassed. “Do you like it too, Quicksave?”

“I can’t diss anyone wearing a Dior suit,” Ryan reassured Livia, Eugène-Henry moving from his lap to the Augusti princess’. “See, even my cat approves. He only accepts the best.”

“Is it wise to bring him?” Livia asked, petting the feline while the truck moved towards Dynamis’ Star Studios. “I know cats have nine lives, but he will be in the middle of a warzone.”

“I guarantee you that everything will happen as I have foreseen,” Ryan said ominously, before giving her the Fisty Brothers to wear. “Put them on, please.”

“Gauntlets?” Livia asked. “What do they do?”

“They turn people into donuts,” the courier replied before checking the time. “According to our schedule, we have roughly one hour before Wardrobe and the others check-in to do their cameos. We’ll arrive right in time for the morning news.”

Soon, the truck reached the confines of Dynamis’ Star Studios. The park already buzzed with activity, an army of technicians and interns moving towards the cafeteria for their morning coffee shot. Two guards lazily controlled cars trying to get past the security checkpoint, none of them wearing power armor. As Ryan learned from his previous visits, Dynamis didn’t expect anyone to attack the place.

“Everyone put on their seatbelts?” Tea asked, her hands tensing on the driving wheel as they approached the checkpoint. “Ryan, subtle or loud?

“Loud.”

Was that even a question?

The Doll smashed the accelerator, and the truck rushed at the checkpoint like a bull at a matador. The guards jumped off the side of the road to dodge, as the Meta-Gang’s vehicle smashed through the security barrier. The vehicle continued its course through the parking lot at full speed, before abruptly stopping in front of a warehouse.

Technicians watched, astonished, as the supervillain crew exited the car. Ryan carried Eugène-Henry in his hands, Livia struggled to put Fisty over her gloves, the Doll opened the truck’s container to free its passengers, and Sarin unleashed a mighty shockwave to the skies.

This time, the Studios’ staff finally understood the danger and fled in panic.

“Finally out!” Mosquito said as he exited the truck’s container alongside Frank. Having overfed on high nutrient blood, the bugman had almost doubled in size. The crimson flesh beneath his exoskeleton had turned green, his muscles swelling until they became almost grotesque. Ryan thought he should change his name to Beefcake. “That’s the last time I share a ride with you, Frank.”

“Mosquito, dear, you protect the car, survey the area, and raise the alarm if someone tries to fly in,” Ryan said. The Doll grabbed a rocket launcher hidden beneath the seats and locked the truck. “Time to dazzle New Rome.”

Sarin blew up the warehouse’s entrance with a shockwave, while Beefcake took flight and ran circles above the studio. Ryan walked into the hole first, like a boss, while his minions followed in regimented order.

The group entered a reception hall, ignoring the terrified secretaries, interns, and workers too afraid to stop their advance. Most of the security guards weren’t paid enough to fight a band of Genomes, but one did dare to threaten Ryan with a gun. The courier froze time and disarmed him with one hand, using the other to carry his cat.

Ryan eventually reached a door protected by a keycard lock, reading the words ‘News Studio’ written on it. “Agent Frank?” the president asked his trusty bodyguard. “Open the door.”

The iron giant immediately looked around, and quickly noticed a terrified technician with a keycard around his neck; Ryan quickly identified him as Kevin, one of the scriptwriters working on the Panda movie in the previous loop. The man had frozen in place, holding a steaming coffee cup in his hand.

Frank lifted the scriptwriter by the pants, spilling the coffee all over the floor, and dangled him in front of the lock like a toy. The door opened upon registering the keycard.

“After you, Mr. President,” the giant said, as he dropped his victim onto the floor. From the brown spot on his pants, the scriptwriter had soiled himself.

“Thank you,” Ryan said while moving through the open door, only for Frank to walk through the walls around it as he followed. To each their own entrance.

New Rome’s news set was a wide circular room the size of an apartment, with half the walls covered by a large 3D screen. A well-lit anchor news desk faced two cameras, and a horde of low-wage slaves kept in eternal darkness. A handsome, brown-haired anchorman sat on a leather chair, having been ready to deliver the morning news when the Meta-Gang invaded the set.

“Everyone, hands behind your heads!” Sarin snarled angrily, as Tea threatened the staff with her rocket launcher. The fearful screams didn’t last long, replaced with cowering silence as Frank and the Doll herded half a dozen technicians into a corner. The cameramen continued their work under Sarin’s surveillance.

“I swear everything will be alright, if you don’t resist,” the Doll promised the hostages, even as she threatened them with a rocket launcher. “We don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“They’re our hostages, don’t coddle them,” Sarin said, as she hooked her tablet to a recording device. Livia stood in the background, too anxious to say anything. The Augusti princess didn’t have much experience with field work.

Ryan calmly approached the anchorman, and silently threatened his vital space. The man rose from his seat without a word and joined the other hostages, leaving the courier free to take over the chair. Eugène-Henry meowed on his lap, looking at the cameras like a furred diva.

“Do I look intimidating enough?” Ryan asked Livia, as he adjusted his suit.

“If you could raise your hat a little, that would be perfect.”

Ryan followed her advice and basked in the spotlight.

“We’re live, Boss,” Sarin said, forcing a cameraman to focus on Ryan’s mask.

The president silently glanced at the various technicians, noticing a young teen with brown hair and acne. “You’re an intern?” he asked her.

“U-uh, yes sir!”

“Bring me coffee. With milk and sugar.” The young teen immediately fled out of the room to fulfill his order, though Ryan wasn’t sure she would return.

In any case, the courier scratched his cat’s ears, and introduced himself to the camera. “Good morning, America! While it’s saddening you won’t hear the weather report—spoiler warning, go to the beach today—oh boy, will you get something better. I am Mr. President, and this is my message.”

He was born for this.

“I am Ryan Romano. Leader of the free world, conqueror of Monaco, and democratically elected chairman of the Meta-Gang. Yes, the same Psycho band that took over that dump of a northern district. We are currently taking Star Studios hostage until our demands are fulfilled. Don’t try to take us off the airwaves, because if anyone tries...”

Ryan put his mini A-bomb on the news desk.

“I call it the North Korea special,” he explained in simple terms. “Using highly sophisticated Genius technology too complicated for you to understand, this device can induce a thermonuclear detonation that will burn the whole city to ashes. If I were you, I would pack your stuff and leave for Milan.”

Ryan could hardly see the hostages’ faces with all the lights aimed at him, but he heard some of them gasping in shock.

Yeah, who would be desperate enough to go to Milan?

The intern returned with the coffee, and put it at the desk’s edge, as far away from Ryan as possible. “Thank you, slave,” the president said. “You shall be spared.”

“Can I go now?” the intern asked, sweating profusely.

“You can go to the photocopier,” Ryan crushed her hopes of a better life, before focusing back on the camera. He noticed Livia pushing the intern towards the other hostages, but didn’t pay much attention. “Now, perhaps you're wondering why this is happening, so we compiled a short movie.”

The screen behind his desk broadcast his recorded talk with Hector Manada.

Well, of course, the courier had ‘edited’ the film to make it fit within a five minutes length, but such were the rules of sensational journalism. He would probably release a director’s cut one day.

“No more Knockoffs,” Hector Manada’s voice echoed behind Ryan. “My agreement was with your predecessors, and their demise changes everything.”

“Certainly we can continue where they left off.”

“Your people didn’t deliver, so why should I honor my side of the bargain?”

“Then I should reveal what’s inside your knockoffs. I’m sure your people will love buying a Psycho-in-a-can.”

“Do you have any proof?”

The video switched to the disastrous Elixir test, of Bloodstream’s horrifying essence turning the overpriced drink into a screaming slime. Livia let out a gasp of horror at the sight, while the hostages started to whisper between themselves.

“They’re taking down the video almost as soon as I put it on a website,” Sarin said while typing on her tablet, “but it still makes thousands of views each time I upload it.”

The president nodded, knowing once something was on the net, it would remain there forever. “I will personally perform the kids show version, and since I do not believe in CGI…”

Ryan put three plasticine figurines on the desk, representing Hector Manada, Augustus, and Big Fat Adam.

“Say hello to stop motion!”

An awkward silence followed. Tough crowd.

Ryan, who had a long experience with this kind of performance, did the voice-over. “Hey, I’m Mob Zeus!” he raised the Augustus figurine, while doing his best impersonation of the tyrant. “And I’m EVIL!"

Livia chuckled, and Eugène-Henry left Ryan’s lap to land on the desk. The cat started playing with the A-bomb like a ball of yarn, to everyone’s horror, and Ryan briefly interrupted his performance to glance at his pet.

“Good kitty,” he said, scratching Eugène-Henry’s back and feeding on the audience’s tears of despair. “You like my A-bomb, huh? You like it, do you?”

His cat meowed in response, and Ryan returned to his show.

“I am Hector, and I am so jealous of Augustus! He shines too much!” The courier played Manada’s figurine, before moving Adam’s. Each time, he imitated the original’s voice. “I am Adam! I am so fat, that last time I used a weighing machine, it let out death throes! I want to help, but I am poor!”

“Take my money, friendly whale! I beg of you!” ‘Hector’ answered. Nobody laughed at the spectacle, all eyes focusing on Eugène-Henry instead. By now the cat was rolling the A-bomb near the intern’s coffee cup, showing his royal behind to the camera.

Ryan put a fourth figurine on the desk, representing Psyspy. He carried an oversized knife of clay in his tentacle. “I am Psyshock,” the president voiced the brainjacker’s figurine, before moving it behind Adam’s, “and I am a traitor!”

“Mr. President, turn around!” Frank panicked, as he relived his previous charge’s murder. “Turn around!”

The Psyshock figurine stabbed Adam’s in the back, the madman collapsing. The whole building trembled, as Frank punched the ground in grief.

“And that’s where I come in, the hand of injustice!” Ryan smashed the Psyshock figurine, turning it to paste. Then he raised his plasticine-covered fist. “I have been disrespected! Humiliated! Unpaid! But never broken! They called me mad, but I will show them! I will show them all! I am taking all of New Rome hostage, until Dynamis pays me the ransom I deserve! The outrageous sum of one—”

“He’s gonna say it!” The Doll gasped.

“One!”

Ryan winked at the camera, and his countless fans behind it.

“One million dollars!”

The tense silence was broken by Livia’s giggling and the Doll’s sobs of happiness. “He dared,” the android said. “He dared.”

“Morons dare it all, that’s how you recognize them,” Sarin replied. “Boss, you do know american dollars cost almost as much as collection stamps nowadays?”

“You wanted them to pay us in pesos, perhaps?” Ryan deadpanned.

“You would need all of Mexico to pay one million dollars,” Frank said, spitting on America’s oldest enemy.

“In any case, the cavalry is coming to the rescue,” Sarin said, showing Ryan her tablet’s screen. Someone was live streaming Wyvern flying through New Rome’s skies in human form, aiming straight for Star Studios.

“They can’t silence the truth!” the president went on a rant before the camera. “We shall not give up in the face of intimi—”

Bleep.

Ryan glanced at Eugène-Henry, the cat having pushed the A-bomb’s big button and triggered the countdown.

“Well.” The president looked back at the camera, and smiled behind his mask. “That’s all folks!”

瑞恩一边挠着欧仁-亨利的耳朵，一边在脑中排练反派宣言。他已经戴上了那顶专供战争的帽子，做好了战斗准备。

弗兰克和强化后的蚊子体形太大，总统专用厢式车装不下，一行人便换了辆黑色轻型卡车，把这两位重型打手塞进后面的货厢。蒂娅负责开车，脸上套着匪徒用的头罩，让这个仿生人看起来活像个劫持人质的。沙林坐在前排，瑞恩则独占了第二排座位。

“啊，”人偶看着路面说道，“真怀念啊。让我想起了我们一起去农场外野餐的日子。”

“只不过这次多了些打砸闹事。”瑞恩补充道，膝上的猫喵了一声。“还有财产损失。”

“最好值得。”沙林一边在平板上敲字，一边说道，“就算地堡在我们手里，我们要对付的也是迪纳米斯。那可是政府。”

“不，我们是要教大企业认清自己的位置。”瑞恩答道，“只要我的计划成功——而它肯定会成功——迪纳米斯就会忙着内斗，顾不上对付我们。再说，埃克托最后通牒的期限今天就到了。不是我们走，就是他走。”

“行行行，我懂。”他的副手看着前方的道路，停顿片刻。“瑞恩，录像里那个血淋淋的东西……我们所有人体内都有？”

“所有喝过仿制灵药的人体内都有。”按他的估算，新罗马大约有百分之十的人口属于这一类。仿制灵药价格不菲，但还不至于贵过一套房子，而迪纳米斯和奥古斯都都大量使用这种东西，以增强手下的战力。

街上与他们擦肩而过的人，每十个里就有一个随时可能变成血流的复制体。

“也就是说，帮里几乎所有人都中招了。”沙林说道，“不管是谁觉得这么干是个好主意，都该吃枪子。”

“烟草公司能害死一半的顾客。”瑞恩答道。以他对达斯·马纳达的了解，那家伙多半觉得这利润值得冒险。

“不能让他们逍遥法外。”蒂娅愤然道，“这简直丧尽天良。”

“同意。”沙林重重点头。“而且，我们冒了那么多风险跟奥古斯都打，他们居然还不肯付钱。是时候痛痛快快地报仇了。”

“亲爱的沙林，视频准备好了吗？”瑞恩问道。

“好了，但迪纳米斯多半几分钟内就会把它们删掉。他们控制着迪纳网和广播电视信号。”

“大部分，不是全部。”瑞恩说道。卡车停了下来，接上团队的最后一名成员。她打开信使左侧的车门，爬进车里。

第一次以反派身份出动，莉维娅选了身简洁而优雅的行头：黑色西装，里面搭配红衬衫和领带，再加上一顶同样配色、灵感来自蠢朋克乐队的头盔。这套衣服虽然遮不住她的女性曲线，却赋予了她一种时髦的中性美。

“女士们，先生们，”瑞恩开始介绍自己的新搭档，“请容我隆重介绍，本总统政权独一无二的第一夫人——绯红女王！”

“大家好。”莉维娅有些腼腆地向众人问候。“我……我很荣幸认识各位。”

“欢迎，我是人偶！”蒂娅热情地自我介绍，沙林则哼了一声。“我们会玩得很开心的，你等着瞧吧！”

这位女性仿生人对参与犯罪活动的热切，实在有点令人不安。

“总统先生。”瑞恩转过头，弗兰克正透过驾驶室与货厢之间的窗户往里看。“您是摩门教徒吗？”

“不是，不过迟早有一天，我大概得自称为神。”不来上一两场野心膨胀的演说，他这轮反派路线哪能算走完。“为什么这么问，弗兰克特工？”

“新旧两位第一夫人都在您车上。”巨人解释道，“除非其中一位是实习生？”

“我只有一个妻子，弗兰克特工。”瑞恩直视着巨人的双眼。“她的名字……叫美利坚！”

好吧，信使确实当过一阵子摇滚明星，该有的放浪形骸一样不缺。到了那一轮末尾，追随他的狂热女粉丝多得让他一半都记不住，连走路都走不直了。不过，一味纵欲很快就失去了新鲜感。瑞恩更喜欢与一个人建立专一、亲密的关系，拥有比肤浅欲望更深的联结。

他想找的是灵魂伴侣。

“深潜者不跟我们一起吗？”莉维娅有些好奇地问道。

瑞恩的心情瞬间沉了下去。“不，她不来。”

那场灾难般的仿制灵药试验结束后，小矮个就把自己锁进了房间，再也不肯出来。她不让任何人进去，连瑞恩和莎拉也不例外。这位天才曾经深爱父亲，可到头来，这段父女关系却成了一道从未愈合的伤口。上一轮里她好不容易取得的所有进展，仿佛都被恐惧和痛苦冲走了。

而只有她肯向他敞开门，瑞恩才能帮她。

“对……对不起。”察觉到他的不安，莉维娅说道，“我不是想……”

“女王，我好喜欢你这身衣服！”前排的蒂娅开口，想把话题引向没那么尴尬的方向。“尤其是这种法国电子乐风格！”

“哦，谢谢。”莉维娅把戴着手套的双手交握在一起。虽然瑞恩看不到头盔下面的脸，但他敢拿自己的一只手打赌，她一定很不好意思。“快存，你也喜欢吗？”

“穿迪奥西装的人，我可挑不出毛病。”瑞恩安抚着莉维娅，欧仁-亨利则从他的膝上爬到了奥古斯蒂公主的膝上。“看，我的猫也赞同。它只认最好的。”

“带上它真的明智吗？”莉维娅一边抚摸着猫，一边问道。卡车正朝迪纳米斯的明星制片厂驶去。“我知道猫有九条命，可它要待的地方毕竟是战场。”

“我向你保证，一切都会如我所预见的那样发生。”瑞恩用不祥的语调说道，随后把拳头兄弟递给她。“请戴上。”

“护手？”莉维娅问道，“它们能做什么？”

“把人变成甜甜圈。”信使说完，看了眼时间。“按日程安排，离衣橱他们来报到、客串出场，还有大约一个小时。我们正好赶得上早间新闻。”

没过多久，卡车便到了迪纳米斯的明星制片厂园区外。园区里早已忙碌起来，大批技术人员和实习生正涌向餐厅，准备喝上一杯提神的早间咖啡。两个守卫懒洋洋地检查着要通过安检关卡的车辆，两人都没穿动力装甲。瑞恩前几次来时就发现了，迪纳米斯根本没料到有人会袭击这里。

“大家安全带都系好了吗？”驶近关卡时，蒂娅握紧了方向盘。“瑞恩，悄悄来，还是闹大点？”

“闹大点。”

这还用问？

人偶一脚踩死油门，卡车像冲向斗牛士的公牛一样直扑关卡。守卫跳向路边躲避，超能帮的车一头撞穿了安全路障。卡车继续全速穿过停车场，最后猛地停在一座仓库前。

技术人员目瞪口呆地看着这支超级反派团队下了车。瑞恩双手抱着欧仁-亨利，莉维娅正费劲地往手套外面套拳拳，人偶打开货厢释放乘客，沙林则朝天空轰出了一道强劲的冲击波。

这一次，制片厂的员工终于意识到大事不妙，惊慌失措地四散奔逃。

“总算出来了！”蚊子和弗兰克一起从货厢里钻了出来。喝了过量的高营养血液后，这个虫人的体形几乎翻了一倍。他外骨骼下血红的皮肉已经变成绿色，肌肉鼓胀得近乎畸形。瑞恩觉得他该改名叫肌肉猛男。“弗兰克，这是我最后一次跟你挤一辆车。”

“亲爱的蚊子，你负责保护车子、监视周围。有人想飞进来，就拉响警报。”瑞恩吩咐道。人偶拿出藏在座椅下的火箭筒，锁好了卡车。“是时候让新罗马大开眼界了。”

沙林用冲击波炸开仓库入口，肌肉猛男则腾空而起，在制片厂上方盘旋。瑞恩摆足老大的架势，第一个从破洞走了进去，手下们整整齐齐地跟在后面。

一行人进入接待大厅，径直掠过那些吓得不敢阻拦的秘书、实习生和工人。大多数保安拿的工资还不够让他们跟一群基因者拼命，但还是有一个胆敢用枪威胁瑞恩。信使暂停时间，单手缴了他的枪，另一只手继续抱猫。

瑞恩最终来到一扇装着门禁卡锁的门前，读着上面的字：“新闻演播室”。“弗兰克特工？”总统招呼自己忠实的保镖。“开门。”

钢铁巨人立刻环顾四周，很快就发现了一个脖子上挂着门禁卡、惊恐万分的技术人员。瑞恩也很快认出了他：凯文，上一轮负责熊猫电影的编剧之一。那人僵在原地，手里还端着一杯热气腾腾的咖啡。

弗兰克拎住编剧的裤子，把他提了起来，咖啡洒了一地。他把这人当玩具似的悬在锁前晃了晃。门禁识别到卡片，门开了。

“您先请，总统先生。”巨人说着，把受害者扔回地上。从裤子上那块褐色污渍来看，编剧已经拉在裤子里了。

“谢谢。”瑞恩穿过敞开的门，弗兰克跟上时却直接撞穿了门两旁的墙壁。各有各的进门方式嘛。

新罗马的新闻演播室是个宽敞的圆形房间，足有一套公寓那么大，一半墙面都被巨大的三维屏幕覆盖。灯光明亮的主播台对着两台摄像机，以及一大群永远被留在黑暗里的低薪奴隶。一名相貌英俊的棕发男主播坐在皮椅上，本已准备好播报早间新闻，超能帮却在这时闯进了演播室。

“所有人，双手抱头！”沙林怒吼道，蒂娅则用火箭筒威胁着工作人员。弗兰克和人偶把六名技术人员赶到角落里，惊恐的尖叫很快便化为瑟瑟发抖的沉默。摄影师在沙林的监视下继续工作。

“我保证，只要不反抗，就一切都好。”人偶虽然还拿火箭筒指着人质，却也在向他们作出承诺。“我们不想伤害任何人。”

“他们是人质，别惯着他们。”沙林一边说，一边把平板连上一台录制设备。莉维娅站在后面，紧张得一言不发。奥古斯蒂的公主并没有多少出外勤的经验。

瑞恩不慌不忙地走向主播，一声不吭地逼近他的私人空间。那人什么也没说就站了起来，加入其他人质，信使便顺势接管了那张椅子。欧仁-亨利在他膝上喵喵叫着，看向镜头，活像位毛茸茸的天后。

“我看起来够吓人吗？”瑞恩一边整理西装，一边问莉维娅。

“帽子再抬高一点就完美了。”

瑞恩照着她的建议做了，尽情享受聚光灯的照耀。

“开始直播了，老大。”沙林说着，逼一名摄影师把镜头对准瑞恩的面具。

总统默默扫视着那些技术人员，注意到一个十来岁的棕发少女，脸上长着青春痘。“你是实习生？”他问。

“呃……是、是的，先生！”

“给我拿杯咖啡。加奶加糖。”少女立刻逃出了房间去执行命令，不过瑞恩不确定她还会不会回来。

不管怎样，信使挠了挠猫耳朵，开始对着镜头自我介绍。“早安，美国！很遗憾，各位听不成天气预报了——先剧透一下，今天去海滩吧——不过，天哪，你们要看的可比那精彩多了。我是总统先生，以下是我的讲话。”

他天生就是干这个的。

“我是瑞恩·罗马诺。自由世界的领袖，摩纳哥的征服者，经民主选举产生的超能帮主席。没错，就是占领了北边那个垃圾区的疯魔团伙。我们目前正劫持着明星制片厂，直到我们的要求得到满足。别想切断我们的广播信号，因为只要有人敢试……”

瑞恩把迷你原子弹摆上了主播台。

“我管它叫朝鲜特制款。”他用浅显易懂的话解释道，“这件装置采用极其精密、复杂得你们根本理解不了的天才科技，能引发热核爆炸，把整座城市烧成灰。我要是你们，就赶紧收拾东西去米兰了。”

灯光全都打在瑞恩身上，他几乎看不清人质的脸，但听见其中几个人震惊地倒吸了一口气。

可不是嘛，得走投无路到什么地步，才会去米兰啊？

实习生端着咖啡回来了，把杯子放在主播台边缘，尽可能离瑞恩远一点。“谢谢你，奴隶。”总统说道，“我会饶你一命。”

“我现在能走了吗？”实习生满头大汗地问。

“你可以去复印机那儿。”瑞恩粉碎了她对美好生活的希望，随后重新面向镜头。他注意到莉维娅正把实习生推向其他人质，但没怎么在意。“现在，你们或许想知道这一切是怎么回事，所以我们剪辑了一部短片。”

主播台后方的屏幕开始播放他与埃克托·马纳达的谈话录像。

当然，信使对片子做了些“剪辑”，把时长压进了五分钟以内，不过，耸人听闻的新闻报道本来就是这个规矩。他大概会在某天放出导演剪辑版吧。

“不会再有仿制药了。”埃克托·马纳达的声音在瑞恩身后响起。“我是和你的前任们达成的协议，他们一死，一切都变了。”

“我们完全可以接手，继续合作嘛。”

“你们没办成事，凭什么要我履约？”

“那我该公开你那些仿制药里到底装了什么。我相信，你的顾客一定会爱死罐装疯魔的。”

“你有证据吗？”

画面切换到了那场灾难般的灵药试验：源自血流的骇人物质，把那瓶价格虚高的饮料变成了一团尖叫的黏液。莉维娅见状惊恐地吸了口气，人质们也开始交头接耳。

“几乎我刚把视频传到一个网站，他们就会删掉。”沙林一边在平板上敲字，一边说，“不过每次上传，还是能拿到几千次播放。”

总统点了点头。他知道，一样东西只要上了网，就会永远留在网上。“接下来，我会亲自表演儿童节目版。既然我不信电脑特效那一套……”

瑞恩在桌上摆了三个橡皮泥小人，分别是埃克托·马纳达、奥古斯都和大胖亚当。

“向定格动画问好吧！”

接着是一阵尴尬的沉默。这届观众不好伺候啊。

瑞恩对这种表演经验丰富，亲自负责配音。“嘿，我是黑帮宙斯！”他举起奥古斯都的小人，竭力模仿那暴君的腔调。“而且我坏透了！”

莉维娅轻笑起来，欧仁-亨利则从瑞恩膝上跳到了桌面。这只猫把原子弹当成毛线球玩了起来，吓坏了所有人。瑞恩短暂中断表演，瞥了一眼自己的宠物。

“乖猫咪。”他一边挠着欧仁-亨利的背，一边拿观众绝望的眼泪当养料。“你喜欢我的原子弹，是吧？喜欢，是不是？”

猫喵了一声作为回答，瑞恩便继续自己的表演。

“我是埃克托，我好嫉妒奥古斯都啊！他实在太耀眼了！”信使先摆弄马纳达的小人，随后又换成亚当。每次都会模仿本人的声音。“我是亚当！我太胖了，上回一用体重秤，它就发出了临死的惨叫！我想帮忙，可我没钱！”

“拿着我的钱吧，友善的鲸鱼！求求你了！”“埃克托”回答。没人被这场表演逗笑，所有目光都集中在欧仁-亨利身上。这会儿，猫已经把原子弹滚到了实习生端来的咖啡杯旁，正冲着镜头展示它高贵的屁股。

瑞恩又往桌上放了第四个小人，代表心谍，触手里还拿着一把大得离谱的黏土刀。“我是心震。”总统为这个劫脑者小人配音，把它移到亚当身后。“而且我是个叛徒！”

“总统先生，回头！”弗兰克仿佛又经历了一遍前任保护对象遭谋杀的那一幕，惊慌失措地喊道，“快回头！”

心震小人一刀捅进亚当小人的后背，那个疯子倒了下去。弗兰克悲愤地一拳砸向地面，整栋建筑都跟着震颤。

“接下来，就轮到我——不义之手——登场了！”瑞恩一拳砸扁心震小人，把它碾成烂泥，随后举起沾满橡皮泥的拳头。“我遭到了蔑视！羞辱！欠薪！但从未被击垮！他们说我是疯子，可我要让他们见识见识！我要让所有人都见识见识！我将劫持整个新罗马，直到迪纳米斯付清我应得的赎金！这笔惊世骇俗的巨款，足足有一——”

“他要说出来了！”人偶倒吸一口气。

“一！”

瑞恩朝着镜头，以及镜头后无数的粉丝，眨了眨眼。

“一百万美元！”

莉维娅的咯咯笑声与人偶喜极而泣的抽噎打破了紧绷的沉默。“他真敢啊。”仿生人说道，“他真敢啊。”

“蠢货什么都敢，所以才好认。”沙林答道，“老大，你知道现在美元的价钱都快赶上收藏邮票了吧？”

“不然你想让他们用比索付钱？”瑞恩面无表情地问。

“得把整个墨西哥搭进去，才付得起一百万美元。”弗兰克说道，言语间满是对美国最古老敌人的唾弃。

“不管怎么说，救兵来了。”沙林把平板屏幕亮给瑞恩看。有人正在直播双足飞龙以人形飞过新罗马上空的画面，她正直奔明星制片厂而来。

“他们休想封杀真相！”总统冲着镜头慷慨陈词，“我们绝不会屈服于威——”

哔。

瑞恩瞥向欧仁-亨利。猫按下了原子弹上那颗大按钮，启动了倒计时。

“好吧。”总统重新看向镜头，在面具后露出笑容。“各位，就到这里了！”