Chapter One
As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious. The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere. "Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late." She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul. "Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight." Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed. "Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here." Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated. "I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here." Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night." Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight. Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder. "I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle. Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor. "Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight." "Why?" Emily asked subconsciously. Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up." When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass. In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.
Chapter Two
In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.
Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.
It was Draco.
"Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.
"How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.
Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"
The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.
"Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.
"You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."
At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.
"Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.
Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."
"The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.
Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.
Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."
As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.
Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.
"Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.
Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.
"Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.
"Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."
Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.
Chapter Three
Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.
When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.
The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.
"She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.
"I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."
Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.
"Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.
The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.
"I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"
Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.
"Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.
Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.
She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"
Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."
Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.
"So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.
Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."
Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.
It was Draco.
He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."
Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."
Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.
The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.
Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."
She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.
Chapter Four
As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.
That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.
"Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."
Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."
Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"
Emily froze. "What do you mean?"
"The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."
A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.
Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"
The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.
"Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.
Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.
Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."
She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.
As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.
Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.
Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.
As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.
Chapter Five
The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.
One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.
'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'
"Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."
Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"
Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."
"What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.
"There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."
Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.
"You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"
Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"
Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.
"Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"
She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."
When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.
"My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."
Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."
"She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."
The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.
"The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."
As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.
Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"
But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.
"It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."
In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.
1: Quicksave (1)
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1: Quicksave
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Han gav borgerne i New Rome skylden for dette. Byens indbyggere var lige så nervøse som kaffeafhængige om morgenen, og kørte deres biler som aber, der var ude efter hans blod. Det ville have været mere sikkert at bevæge sig på gangbroen.
Heldigvis havde han sparet lige før han passerede skiltet "Velkommen til New Rome" for enden af den motorvej, der forbandt byen med resten af Campania-regionen.
I sin stærkt tilpassede røde Plymouth Fury stoppede Ryan lige før en tankvogn ville have ramt ham til venstre, undveg en Bliss-narkoman med meth-hovedet og nåede så endelig frem til New Roms stribe.
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Til venstre for indkørslen kunne Ryan se det uberørte Middelhav, der glitrede i solnedgangen, mens en fjern ø kastede en lang skygge i horisonten; til højre kunne han kaste et blik på de utallige kasinoer, spillehaller og luksusherberger, der trak så mange turister til byen. Han kunne endda skimte det berømte Colosseum Maximus, en moderne kopi af den gamle verdens Colosseum.
Dette distrikt fortjente virkelig sit navn "Guldkysten".
Ryan selv tiltrak sig et par blikke fra turisterne, da han kørte i sit Quicksave-kostume. Han dækkede sit bedårende ansigt med en metalmaske uden mund med to runde briller som øjne og sit sorte hår under en sort tophue. Læg dertil en marineblå trenchcoat, en lilla skjorte, blå bukser, sorte handsker og støvler, og så var man den inkarnerede stil.
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Mens han fortsatte sin færd nordpå mod sin destination, bemærkede Ryan et par iøjnefaldende reklametavler. En af dem portrætterede superheltinden Wyvern, en smuk amazone af en kvinde med skulderlangt sort hår, skarpe grålige øjne og en hvid bodysuit, der viste sine muskler med en grøn potion i baggrunden.
"Vil du være lige så stærk som Wyvern? Med vores Herkules Elixir vil du kunne gøre det, som Herkules gjorde på tolv arbejdsdage, på en eftermiddag!
"Hundrede tusinde euro, kun hos Dynamis!
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Hans liv havde været en rutsjebane lige siden.
Ryan kørte foran et turistområde med klipper og en Miami-lignende strand, og nåede frem til et turistkvarter, fyldt med barer, natklubber og restauranter. Stedet lugtede af stoffer og alkohol, men det så heller ikke sjofelt ud. De værste kvarterer lå i det nordlige område, efter hvad han havde hørt.
Ryan havde lært bykortet udenad og fandt hurtigt det sted, han søgte; en ubemærket pub, der lå mellem en italiensk restaurant og en lukket natklub. Kureren parkerede sin bil i nærheden og steg ned og åbnede sit bagagerum.
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Efter at have ledt fandt Ryan hurtigt den sorte mappe, som han var blevet hyret til at levere, greb den, lukkede bagagerummet og gik derefter ind på pubben.
Det var noget af et hyggeligt sted med ti borde, hvoraf kun en tredjedel var besat. Han lagde kort mærke til en latin muchacho, der forsøgte at imponere sin date ved at lade en mønt svæve i luften - han måtte have spildt halvtreds tusinde dollars på en kopi-eliksir. En skaldet, rynket gammel mand med solbrændt hud stod bag disken og kiggede mistænksomt på den nyankomne.
"Goddag, lokale mennesker, jeg kommer i fred!" Ryan henvendte sig til den kulstofbaserede livsform, der blev kaldt en bartender. "Er dette Renescos Jolie Wrangler?"
MaunydIean_ bang diUskZe(n agllolede ^påó hajm.D "VDeht ÉsJtNåRrH s!kPrFevwetR Kpåy Zhowv(eKdÉdXørUeMnS.' Hvgadz Tvijlg dum hpaGvVe?",
Hvorfor indeholdt barens titel både franske og engelske ord, mens bartenderen lød som en ægte italiener? Multikulturalismen slog til igen! "Så må du være Renesco!" Ryan rakte den stakkels fyr mappen. "Jeg er blevet hyret til at give dig den her! Den er fuld af svampe og en bombe, men jeg har ikke åbnet den denne gang."
"Denne gang?" Bartenderen rynkede panden. "Er du..."
"Jeg er Quicksave," præsenterede Ryan sig selv og vippede på hatten. "Jeg er udødelig, men du må ikke sige det til nogen."
"AMandJ, zdu 'saCgudje kdeté Zhørjpts vnoKkk tMila Kat falle( .kXuqn!nke _høreT tdebtt!U"b BspXottedFeu bnoge*n* bYagBvMe(d,! omg deS pfåT nkundse_r sg^rMinzevde.s
"Er det din evne?" spurgte bartenderen uimponeret. "Udødelighed?"
"Det er en del af en pakkeløsning," svarede Ryan.
"Ja ja," mumlede Renesco, mens han tog fat i mappen. "Jeg siger det til min chef, så skulle du snart modtage din betaling."
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"Har aldrig hørt om hende," sagde bartenderen med et skuldertræk. "Hvis du leder efter en pige, så prøv et bordel."
"Det er ikke lige den type, men tak alligevel." Som jeg kendte hende, gemte Len sig sikkert i en eller anden underjordisk bunker i Kreml. "Er der et sted, hvor man kan købe specialfremstillet genial teknologi? Hjemmelavet?"
"Prøv Rust Town i nord, hvis du er modig nok. Man kan altid finde interessante ting på skrotpladsen, men den er fuld af snigmordere og psykopater nu om dage." Bartenderen kiggede på Quicksave fra top til tå. "De vil æde dig levende."
1: Quicksave (2)
Ryan trak på skuldrene, mens han hørte nogen komme ind i baren. Temperaturen syntes pludselig at falde et par grader. "Renesco?" spurgte den nyankomne.
"Ja?" svarede bartenderen og rynkede panden.
Et sekund senere flåede et isspyd Renescos hals ud og naglede ham fast til bagvæggen.
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Rummet brød ud i skrig, da projektiler flænsede både borde og kunder. Ryan kæmpede mod den skarpe smerte i brystet og faldt sammen på disken, men det lykkedes ham at kaste et blik på sin angriber.
Den nyankomne tog sin hættetrøje af og afslørede sit ansigt ... eller rettere sagt, at han ikke havde noget ansigt. Han lignede et omvandrende, hudløst skelet med rudimentære muskler, skeletfingre og frosne øjne. En unaturlig, isnende tåge kom ud af hans mund og næsehulrum og forvandlede sig til isvåben.
Et genom. I betragtning af hans fysiske mutation, måske endda en psykopat.
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"Jeg skal nok få dig..." Ryan løftede dramatisk en finger mod sin morder, blodet flød fra hans mund, "ved min næste redning..."
Den udøde frøs ham levende med en håndbevægelse, og alt blev mørkt.
Det var den 8. maj 2020 for fjerde gang, og Ryan var sur.
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Men igen, det var, hvad han fik, når han ikke var opmærksom. Med undtagelse af hans redningspunkt krævede hans kræfter en bevidst handling for at blive aktiveret; især hans forbedrede tidsfornemmelse virkede først, efter at han havde oplevet begivenhederne én gang allerede.
Ryan havde ikke noget imod at dø, da han havde vænnet sig til det efter de første to dusin gange ... men at dø så tidligt? Mindre end to timer efter at have etableret et gemmepunkt, tre gange i træk? Hans loops varede normalt i dagevis, hvilket gav ham mulighed for at prøve nye og interessante stunts; mens det at gentage de samme ting i hurtig rækkefølge kedede ham til døde.
Det betød krig.
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I stedet for at gå ind, blev Ryan siddende i sin bil og ventede på, at hans morder skulle dukke op.
Han behøvede ikke vente længe, da lejemorderen kom ud fra et gadehjørne med hænderne i lommerne og sit grimme ansigt skjult under en hættetrøje. Det sagde noget om New Rome, at denne skurk ikke tiltrak sig opmærksomhed, da han gik ind i Jolie Wrangler.
Der var kun én rationel, ansvarlig måde at handle på.
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Fodgængere skreg i panik, og nogle sprang væk, da bilen kørte ind i Wranglers indgangsparti. Da Plymouth'en var blevet forstærket specielt til denne slags stunt, ødelagde den muren og ramte snigmorderen bagfra, før han kunne angribe. Kollisionen drev den fjendtlige Genome mod disken, som et rådyr på vejen.
Quicksave kiggede kort rundt, for at se, om han ved et uheld havde ramt nogen af kunderne; han havde været meget omhyggelig med at placere sig i en vinkel, så der ikke var andre end snigmorderen på vejen, men man kunne aldrig vide det. Heldigvis havde han ikke gjort nogen fortræd, og den spanske muchacho havde for travlt med at holde sin skræmte kæreste i armene til at kaste ting efter Ryan.
Godt. Han ville ikke skulle genindlæse igen.
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"Jeg ringer til vagterne!" Renesco råbte, mens han gemte sig bag disken.
"Glem det, jeg er færdig om et øjeblik!" Ryan svarede, inden han ubekymret åbnede bilens bagagerum. Han kiggede på sine våben og forsøgte at finde det rigtige til opgaven.
Pistolhandskerne? For intime.
Gaups!su-riPfslÉednK?B CFdorQ huurQtigD.
Haglgeværet? Fristende, men overdrevet.
Kaninplyset? Alt for kraftig.
Baseballbat?
D!e!t bvar etB bat.f
Ryan fløjtede, mens han legede med sit valgte våben og nærmede sig snigmorderen, mens han rejste sig op igen og brugte disken som støtte. Enhver anden person ville være død, men alle Genomer havde forbedrede fysiske evner.
"Hvem fanden er du?" hvæsede den udøde snigmorder vredt og forsøgte at manifestere sin ispanser over sin krop, som han gjorde i sidste loop, men han var for bedøvet til at fokusere. "En Augusti?!"
"Næh, jeg er bare en kurer," sagde Ryan og prøvede at finde på en god one-liner. "Undskyld, kan du give mig dit navn, mens du stadig har tænder?"
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Som svar stoppede Ryan dovent tiden. Verden blev tavs, alt fik en lilla nuance, og istapperne frøs fast i luften.
Eh. Frøs. Kureren huskede det ordspil til senere.
"Ja, du overraskede mig sidste gang," sagde Quicksave, mens han bevægede sig rundt om angrebets bane, indtil han var lige foran sit mål. Hverken klienterne eller fjendens Genome kunne bevæge sig, fanget mellem to sekunder. "Det vil ikke ske igen."
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Angrebet kastede morderen i knæ, og endnu et slag introducerede ham med ansigtet først på jorden. Ryan begyndte at banke ham til melodien af Highway to Hell og sang for sig selv. Mellem chokket af at blive ramt af en bil i fuld fart og slaget i hovedet kunne fjenden Genome ikke gøre modstand. Det så også ud til, at han havde noget frosset blod under knoglerne og rudimentært kød.
1: Quicksave (3)
"Jeg føler mig som sundhedsvæsenet, der slår en hjælpeløs bedstemor ihjel." Ryan rystede afskyeligt på hovedet af snigmorderen, inden han slog ham igen. "Se, hvad du fik mig til at gøre!"
Den onde fossil kunne ikke komme med en god undskyldning, så Quicksave fortsatte sit angreb. Hans unaturlige modstandsdygtighed ville gøre det muligt for ham at overleve langt værre ting, og i betragtning af at han havde dræbt Ryan én gang, havde kureren ikke dårlig samvittighed over at tæve ham på nærmest en tomme af hans liv.
"Smid jeres våben!"
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"Hey, jeg prøver bare at hjælpe!" Ryan protesterede og viftede med sit blodplettede bat i overgivelse efter at have sparket snigmorderen med sin støvle en sidste gang.
"Du sprængte min bar i luften!" Renesco protesterede og kom frem bag disken med et rødt ansigt.
"Åh, du vil have penge?" Quicksave søgte hurtigt i sin trenchcoat, da tre røde cirkler dukkede op på hans maske, inden han tog en bunke pengesedler til en værdi af halvtreds tusinde euro frem. "Her, tag en godbid!"
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"Har du kørekort?" spurgte en af vagterne Ryan, som rystede på hovedet. "Er du en selvtægtsmand? En Augusti? Firma Genome?"
"Nope!" Ryan svarede.
"Nå, men hvis du ikke har en licens, hvorfor skulle vi så ikke tage dig i forvaring sammen med ham knoglefyren?"
")Hvadd, gviClb du $ogs&å) haPvbe pJennge?*"
Og Ryan kastede en bestikkelse efter ham.
Sikkerhedskaptajnen greb bollen med den ene hånd, talte mens han holdt sit våben rettet mod Quicksaves hoved, og grinede så. "Tror du, at du kan købe vores ære med det?"
Ryan gav ham en større bestikkelse.
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"Også mig," svarede Ryan. "Også mig."
"Renesco?" Spurgte kaptajnen bartenderen, mens hans mænd bar lejemorderen væk. "Glem ikke at betale dit månedlige abonnement. Vi vil ikke altid være der til at beskytte dit etablissement."
Og på disse kloge ord forlod trioen stedet uden at se sig tilbage.
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"Når man forårsager så mange kollaterale skader som jeg gør, er det en rigtig tidsbesparelse," svarede Ryan, hvis baseballbat stadig dryppede af blod. "Hvem var den skeletagtige fyr egentlig?"
"Ghoul, en psykopat fra Meta-Gang. Elixir-junkier, der har været på angreb på steder som mit for nylig." Renesco stirrede på Ryan, derefter på hans bil og så tilbage på føreren. "Skrid så for helvede ud af min bar."
"Øh, ikke før jeg er færdig med den forbandede levering." Ryan rakte kufferten til Renesco og var egentlig ligeglad med den opmærksomhed, han skabte omkring den. Quicksave leverede altid; uanset hvor mange dødsfald der var behov for!
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"Det handler ikke om pengene," svarede Ryan. Han så sig omkring som om han var bekymret for, at nogen lyttede, og hviskede så Renesco ind i øret.
"Jeg keder mig bare."
Manden kiggede tavst på Ryan, mens kureren fløjtede for sig selv, mens han vendte tilbage til sin bil og kørte under solnedgangen mod nye eventyr.
SMideóq$uke(szt,K gennwe_mfø&rAt$!z
https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/61JlN73lQzL._SL500_.jpg
Hvis du nød at læse denne historie, så overvej venligst at lytte til den ;) The Perfect Run er nu tilgængelig på Audible:
https://www.audible.com/pd/The-Perfect-Run-Audiobook/B09HSRRT1T
2: Forgrening af historier (1)
==========
2: Forgrening af historier
==========
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Tøj var indbegrebet af samfundets begrænsninger for den menneskelige ånd, civilisationens knusende magt, der forsøgte at få individet til at passe ind i formen. Men ved at være mest nøgen genforenede Ryan sig med sin kreativitet uden at være bundet af konformitet, mens hans boksershorts repræsenterede hans vedvarende tilknytning til sin mentale stabilitet, der forhindrede ham i at gå helt af sporet. Den ene gang Ryan havde arbejdet helt nøgen, endte han med at bygge sin kaninplys.
Desuden føltes hans boxershorts behagelige og varme. Len havde lavet dem til ham for mange år siden.
Ryan havde lejet et hotelværelse i nærheden af byens centrum og brugte den tidlige morgen på at dele sin tid mellem at søge oplysninger om New Rome og forbedre sine gadgets. Receptionisten havde kastet Quicksave et mærkeligt blik, da hun så ham bevæge sig op ad trappen med hænderne fulde af våben, men havde ikke tilkaldt den private sikkerhedstjeneste. Maskerede fremmede var ikke noget usædvanligt i denne by.
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Hvilende på en stol skrev Ryan på sin computer med tæerne - en færdighed han brugte mange sløjfer på at mestre - mens han arbejdede på sin spolepistol med hænderne. Kunden havde overført ham sine penge for gårsdagens levering, med komplimenter for Ghouls anholdelse, selvom kureren var ligeglad med det. Jobbet var bare en undskyldning for at rejse rundt i Italien, på udkig efter nye eventyr.
Selv om han havde sat sin endeløse vandring på standby, da han hørte, at Len måske var i New Rome.
Ud fra det Renesco havde fortalt ham, skulle han tage til Rust Town for at få oplysninger; ifølge det lokale Dynanet var det det kælenavn, der blev givet til New Roms fattige nordvestlige kvarter. De selskaber, der kontrollerede byen, havde placeret alle industrianlæggene der og forvandlet området til en losseplads. De havde endda bygget en mur for at forhindre vagabonder i at bevæge sig ind i de andre distrikter.
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Nogen bankede på hans soveværelsesvindue.
Ryan kastede et blik på det, en kvinde vinkede med hånden til ham fra den anden side. "Hej," sagde hun. "Kan vi tale sammen et øjeblik?"
Ryans værelse lå på tiende etage, og det havde ingen brandudgang.
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"Du har ikke nogen, Ryan Romano," svarede kvinden og løftede et øjenbryn. "Og ifølge din journal har du aldrig gjort noget for at skjule den."
"Har jeg en fil?" spurgte Ryan, overvældet af lykke. "Jeg er berømt! Hvordan er jeg beskrevet?"
"Forstyrret, men pålidelig." Sødt! De fik ham halvvejs rigtigt! Den flyvende kvinde betragtede ham fra top til tå gennem glasset. "Har du ikke tænkt dig at tage dit andet tøj på?"
Rsyan glrMiTnzeUdce. I"bNetjA."
Han ville altid stå imod undertrykkere.
Indtrængeren i det personlige rum svarede med et rynkede bryn og bankede på vinduet igen, omend med lidt mere frustration end før. "Kan du ..."
Ryan rejste sig fra sin stol for at åbne vinduet med den ene hånd og holdt spolepistolen rettet mod den nyankomne med den anden hånd.
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"Jeg hedder Wyvern," præsenterede den pralende kvinde sig selv. Hun var iført en ærmeløs, hudtæt hvid uniform med Dynamis' D-formede logo til venstre og en sølvstjerne omgivet af gyldne laurbærblade til højre. Hun var nok mellem midten af tyverne og begyndelsen af trediverne og noget af et blikfang. "Jeg ville gerne takke dig for Ghouls anholdelse i går."
"Åh, det var så lidt."
Så begyndte Ryan at lukke vinduet.
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"Selvfølgelig." Ryan trak så på skuldrene. "Jeg er kurer, jeg leverer post. Uanset hvor mange mennesker der ønsker mig død!"
"Så Augusti hyrede dig ikke som muskel?" spurgte superheltinden, lidt morsomt over hans sidste kommentar. "Det sted, du forsvarede, var en af deres fronter. Jeg tænkte, at de måske havde hyret dig til at forsvare deres område mod Meta-Gang'en."
"Næh, jeg slog den ældre katastrofe, fordi han stod i vejen for at fuldføre min side quest." Wyvern lavede en underlig mine, da han ikke kunne forstå hans jargon. Genomkrigene havde næsten ødelagt videospilbranchen, hvilket fik Ryan til at føle sig meget alene. "Åh, forresten, har du hørt om en pige på min alder, der hedder Len? Sort hår, blå øjne, marxist-leninist?"
"HMsahrxiiustÉ-lGe!nBi&nDisyt&?"y $WXyvernxs krty$ngkÉerde_ Xpand(eénJ dPyTbeMreé. i"DuS meSnZe$r& FkomSmunisdtuerz?U ,DNen fyrJe ftindegs staxdizg?s"c
"Jeg ved godt, at det nok er et skældsord i denne by med uhæmmet kapitalisme, men ja."
"Nej, aldrig hørt om hende." Superheltinden rystede på hovedet. "Men jeg kan kigge i vores filer. Er det derfor, du er i New Rome? Leder du efter hende?"
"Åh ja, hun er smuk og venlig og hun er min bedste veninde!" Ryan kunne ikke lade være med at sværme om hende. "Jeg har ledt efter hende siden evigheder!"
"Jepg skLal Gnofk ahjJæl$pe, hhKv)is Wjuegz vkaMnd," svyaredje YWyver&nn vmVed et *ssmiil. "'FaMkttisk tro*r jIeAg., _aFt fjegN ck^aBn h,jæ_lépWeU dPijg en nh(el dNel'.q".
Åh.
Her kommer rekrutteringstilbuddet...
"Jeg tilhører en gruppe, der hedder Il Migliore," sagde Wyvern og bekræftede Ryans mistanke. "Du har sikkert hørt om os."
IlU gMRigXliowre. En tfCltok^ Iv$irkFsoqmhePdssQupeBr'hfe$lntbe, deIr Yv^ar de aoff(iGcHieblAle Wbpes)kéytktere af NgewM pRpomTe, Bog moód(erDnKeé betrcøpmthefdtert.b SeXlNvfhølgyeHligu fvarN de Qogså påa bDZyRnpamiasé'k HlønningssliUsutUeb,V s_om Le,jzebdes dHeres iOmagte,s m&erwcha^njdwisgingreittighPedezrp Jogc fortRa,lXtue. dte_md,h hYve&m deh skulSl^e kJæmÉpe! ipm)od.( D&elrJ vawrD dingtet ,sOom $L*e'o H&arvgraves'w XkIarneUval.p
2: Forgrening af historier (2)
Det var rigtige, pro bono superhelte, vandrende riddere i stil med vandrende riddere! Ryan kunne ikke lade være med at beundre dem, selv om de havde forårsaget den værste dag i hans liv.
"Vi er altid på udkig efter nye talenter, og selv om du har et... ry for at lave kollaterale skader... så besidder du en yderst nyttig superkraft, og så vidt vi ved, har du ikke rodet dig ud i forkastelige foretagender eller været tæt forbundet med eftersøgte kriminelle." Stakkels pige, hvis bare hun vidste det. "Eftersom du stoppede Ghoul, før han kunne gå på en mordtur, tror jeg, at du har hjertet på rette sted."
"Skal jeg gå til audition til en film eller hvad? For jeg har kun prøvet teater én gang, og det var ikke sjovt."
WyvxeXrMn) _griZnedey. y"*Jeg hvqiwlvlep OøMnsCkze,a vKiw UlavePdhe SfBærr^el nre)kVlyamseTr opga fleVrgeG aznhoJldRelXser," Aiqn_dYrømXmekdme chu.nM, og )RyIaSn fro(rne.mWmderde en msgmu)leG biYtt)erHhXed Ji heJndres t'onGes. "!Miefn vói Qgløkrx cv,orFeTsé (bIedpsétNe lfor Vati QbwesDkyt'tven borvgerne.p Kom oógI besGøPgA XvorJeCsA KhovÉedkvVarptxerg, se XomY dul )pCasWseXrS BtRil vWoSre*sz o.r)ganbimsjaqtóiuon.Y Eéf^tKeCrm ÉdIeitz stusnt (mteda tGuhoZulF thyarn Fd'u bYrpugK f)or folky,j Wderz ,bSalkXkeHrG Kdig (oCp."K
"Jeg kan godt tage vare på mig selv, tak," svarede Ryan, lidt fornærmet over at hun mente, at han havde brug for forkælelse.
"Hør, Quicksave, Meta er ikke fornuftige som Augusti," insisterede hun. "De er en omstrejfende flok psykopater, og du har tæsket en af deres egne. Deres chef, Adam, spiser mennesker."
"Så må han have meget at se til!"
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"Okay, okay, okay," sagde Ryan. "Jeg skal nok tænke over det, hvis jeg nogensinde bliver afsporet fra min hovedopgave."
Superheltinden rynkede panden og kiggede til siden. Ryan bemærkede pludselig en øreprop i hendes venstre øre, selv om han ikke kunne høre noget.
"Forstået," sagde Wyvern, dog ikke til Ryan, inden han gav kureren et visitkort. "Hvis du ombestemmer dig, kan du besøge os på denne adresse."
"SWelFvfYølgOelbig."
"Pas på dig selv."
Og med disse ord fløj Wyvern væk. Hendes vinger bevægede sig så hurtigt, at det blev umuligt for det menneskelige øje at lægge mærke til dem. Alligevel gav de heller ingen lyd fra sig, bortset fra den vind, de producerede. Hun var væk i løbet af et øjeblik, bevægede sig mod nord og accelererede, indtil hun nåede næsten overlydshastighed.
Lydfrekvensen fra hendes vinger må have været uhørlig for mennesker, eller den må have kørt på unormal fysik; alt var muligt med Genomes. Kureren huskede denne observation til senere.
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Han åbnede dovent stemmekanalen med sin venstre tå. "Quicksave Deliveries, hvad kan jeg gøre for dig?"
"Hvad sagde kællingen til dig?" svarede en krypteret stemme i den anden ende.
Ryan løftede et øjenbryn bag sin maske. "Vent, bliver jeg udspioneret?"
"TDerm erz fPå stgeder) fix NMew, Rome, der ikdke &eYrl doOvervåAgNewt&."C
Note til mig selv: Find et mere diskret hotel næste loop. "Jeg er ret sikker på, at den sidste person, der brugte den linje, ikke krypterede sin stemme. Hvem er du, uhyggelige mystiske stemme?"
"Mit navn er Vulcan," svarede den der ringede. "Jeg repræsenterer Augusti. Vi er den organisation, der styrer tingene i New Rome og det meste af Italien."
"Jeg troede, det var Dynamis?" Ryan var dødfødt.
"Det erA Bdke,t,p bdIeY asPigejrÉ,K"l igrigneOde s$tedmme!n.( q"MFen^ ItalieLng $habr kZuNnW fépn' kevjZseIrk,! og haannsi anaaqvn qer AUugustIucs.B"
Det var svært at være uenig, fyren var uovervindelig og kunne skyde lyn med målsøgende lyn. Han havde flere ofre til sit navn end cigaretten.
"Du har vores tak for at redde vores medarbejder fra det Meta-affald," sagde Vulcan. "Alt dette for at sige, at uanset hvad det bevingede firben lovede dig, kan vi tilbyde mere."
"Er det et tilbud, du ikke kan afslå, eller et tilbud-tilbud? For jeg er nemlig allergisk over for heste."
"V)i huarb bÉrXug, froxrP Chårgd.e fo&lÉk, dqerf f^år tingeGne gjTor^t'," savQaréeWde VuOlcanI. _"QVilz kdu _hÉaZvnel lkvinqdper uerlller dqrLeln^ge?é Ny(ty isPenWkér$akmó,M Bgodxe$ vLåbe!n_?! NdoUky WBlisgs tilr IaItv Sfxly^ve jqera Atjil måneGn?$ jAlt deAtp lozrt ktaRn nbHli*v,e ditF ..R. hkvpiisI duz rbeJvijser, at! Qdjuc ,ekrJ Menh IhRolpdspi_lólneSr."H
"Og hvordan gør jeg det?"
En e-mailmeddelelse dukkede op og viste en adresse. Ryan tjekkede hurtigt og identificerede stedet som et kasino kaldet Bakuto. "Vi ejer stedet," forklarede Vulcan. "Kom i aften, alene, og lad os ikke vente. Vi spørger aldrig to gange."
Ryan afsluttede opkaldet og tænkte over tilbuddene. Phew, du slog én fyr - og viste ekstrem tilbageholdenhed og delikatesse efter dine sædvanlige standarder - og pludselig ville alle have en del af dig.
Menu iugenl, be(gdge OgurPuqpLpeyr kunnYe ÉhjæOlpfe hOa_m mGedJ at fNirnRde cLens, (oIg Jhan havdey poplrsettetf óet geXmmenpqunkItk,É WfUør hDaén( kSom* ltuill zbyewn.
Det kunne kun betyde én ting.
"Flere ruter låst op!"
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