Simulator Resources: Firearms (Please Bookmark! Please Recommend!)

The unbearable, searing pain seemed to have stirred Vitch's feral side as well.

He forced his eyes wide open.

Ignoring everything else, he stretched out his arm, trying to snatch back the submachine gun that had fallen in front of him!

Unfortunately, consumed by impulse, Vitch overlooked his blind spot.

A figure standing atop the wooden crates suddenly leaped down!

Still in midair, a pitch-black giant Knife came crashing down with force!

Slash—

Accompanied by a faint, crisp crack and a suddenly rising, agonized howl.

Vitch's hand, along with half his forearm, was completely severed from his body.

It fell into the cold embrace of the concrete floor.

Stab—

At the same time, the long, lightless giant Knife turned again with its wielder's wrist.

And plunged straight into Vitch's chest!

In the blink of an eye, Vladimir Vitch was nailed firmly to the wooden crate.

"Phew—"

Only then

did Rorschach, his head wrapped in a red scarf and his face painted with camouflage, finally let out a breath of relief.

His legs went weak beneath him.

He nearly collapsed to the floor.

A night of nonstop travel had almost drained Rorschach's strength.

Especially when he had killed the other two earlier.

Not only had he strained the muscles in his left arm from exerting too much force, he had nearly let one of them break free from his restraints.

That would have created an even greater crisis.

That was why

Rorschach had used such a bloody scene to provoke Vitch.

He wanted to increase the man's psychological pressure.

In the end, that pressure would lead to a fatal mistake.

Otherwise, Rorschach would not have been brutal enough to go as far as Skulls for the Skull Throne.

He had never been a cruel person.

With a complicated look in his eyes, Rorschach glanced at Vitch, who was on the verge of death and continuously vomiting blood.

He gave his head a slight shake.

Then, Rorschach cautiously moved his injured left arm and found that it was not too serious.

Afterward, he immediately began rummaging through the crates and searching the surrounding area.

Ever since he had infiltrated the warehouse, the previously silent Simulator had been constantly issuing alerts.

Deployable resources detected nearby. Please recover them as soon as possible.

Twenty minutes later, Rorschach completed his initial search.

The vast majority of the crates contained luxury goods smuggled in to evade taxes.

However, five of the crates held brand-new firearms.

Curious, Rorschach reached out and picked up a submachine gun that reeked of pungent gun oil.

The Simulator interface immediately appeared before his eyes.

Harmful Substance: Firearms (Can reduce Cooldown by one hour)

Absorb harmful substance?

Rorschach's eyes widened slightly.

The Simulator actually required firearms as resources?

By then, more than ten hours had passed since Rorschach's last simulation.

The Cooldown had already ended, and he could begin another simulation at any time.

Rorschach chose to absorb it, intending to see what changes the Simulator would undergo.

Current expendable Cooldown time: One hour.

A gun for an hour?

Rorschach's eyes lit up, and he no longer hesitated.

He quickly absorbed every gun in the warehouse, not even sparing the weapons on the corpses.

Current consumable cooldown time: 6 days and 5 hours (149 hours).

Staring at the final number displayed on the Simulator.

Rorschach couldn't help but smile.

At the rate of one hour of cooldown for every day survived.

One hundred and forty-nine hours meant he could simulate a full one hundred and forty-nine days!

Nearly half a year.

That was enough to raise Rorschach's combat strength and survival ability by a huge margin!

But more importantly.

The American continent might lack all sorts of resources, but guns were the one thing it certainly did not lack!

"Right, I wonder if drugs count as harmful substances?"

With a bright future ahead of him, Rorschach suddenly recalled what Vichy had said.

There were still ten kilograms of white powder hidden in the warehouse, waiting for Rorschach to find them.

He just didn't know whether the Simulator needed that kind of thing.

Filled with motivation, Rorschach seemed to have forgotten the faint pain from his injuries.

After searching around, he found a black wooden crate in the corner.

But when Rorschach pried it open, he found it completely empty.

There was nothing inside the crate at all.

"Fine, why did I so naively believe a gang boss?"

Rorschach couldn't help mocking himself.

However, just as Rorschach was about to turn around.

He seemed to hear some kind of noise by his ear.

Tap, tap, tap!

Rorschach narrowed his eyes, suddenly drew back his leg, and kicked the black wooden crate beside him!

Thud!

The black wooden crate toppled to the ground.

Fully exposing a hidden basement hatch that had been concealed beneath it!

Rorschach's expression turned grave as he tilted his head and listened.

Tap, tap, tap!

Sure enough, faint knocking sounds were continuously coming from the basement!

Kidnapped hostages? Or smuggled animals?

Rorschach couldn't make a judgment in such a short time, so he decided to open it first and see!

He took a deep breath and gripped the handle on the hatch with his right hand!

Clatter—

Accompanied by the metallic scrape of turning hinges.

A stench of excrement strong enough to suffocate someone rushed straight at him!

However, once the warehouse light shone into the basement.

Rorschach's eyes instantly widened.

Yet he remained completely still, staring at the scene in the basement as he fell silent.

Inside was a group of children.

A group of children of different skin colors.

A group of expressionless children, only seven or eight years old!

Most of them wore messy, tattered clothes, and their little faces were covered in stark tracks left by tears.

It was as though the sound and light of the basement opening.

Had shattered the despair spreading among the children.

Pairs of childish eyes, fearful, bewildered, or sorrowful.

All turned toward Rorschach alone!

And moments later, Rorschach, his face smeared with black-green camouflage paint.

Suddenly, he broke into an incomparably radiant smile.

"You... have all been saved!"

"Don't be afraid, Red Bandana Uncle is here to save you!"

Just then, a child clutching half a stone cautiously spoke up.

"Hello, um... have we been saved?"

Rorschach turned toward the voice.

He found a pretty little girl with bright, sparkling eyes.

Rorschach took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the surging anger rising within him once more.

He smiled and nodded.

"Yes, you're free... Red Bandana Uncle took care of all the bad people outside!"

"If you're not scared, you can come out and take a look... the bad people who bullied you don't even have their heads anymore!"

Perhaps Rorschach's words had comforted them.

Or perhaps the bewildered children had finally processed what was happening.

In any case, the dozen or so children were like little wind-up cars that had been rewound.

They scrambled upward in a single rush, using both hands and feet!

In an instant.

Rorschach, standing where he was, seemed to have been surrounded by a crowd of several-foot-tall Gretchin.

As they continuously let out excited cries.

Their filthy little hands kept grabbing at Rorschach's clothes and trousers, tugging them back and forth.

At this moment.

Even Rorschach, trying his best to remain calm, couldn't help feeling a headache coming on.

This wouldn't do.

He still had to clean up the entire murder scene and minimize the traces left behind.

But... what was he supposed to do with the children in front of him?