Chapter 10: Heroes & Villains (1/2)
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.”