Tunnel Warfare! Hey! Tunnel Warfare!

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Thinking on his feet, Rorschach clapped his hands sharply, producing a crisp sound.

After making sure he had drawn all the children's attention.

Rorschach narrowed his eyes and asked vividly:

"Kids, do you miss your mom and dad? Do you want to go home?"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"What does miss mean?"

All eleven little heads craned upward.

Their dirty little faces blinked with crystal-clear eyes.

For a moment, the children seemed to have forgotten the game of circling around Rorschach.

Rorschach raised an eyebrow, nodded in satisfaction, and continued:

"You're all obedient, good children, which is why Red Bandana Uncle came to save you... Now, the white and plump police officers are on their way, and their police cars are carrying lots of chocolate cake!"

"But only the most obedient good children will be allowed to eat chocolate cake... Are you good children?"

In an instant, the children, their eyes filled with boundless longing, all bobbed their little heads.

Talking over one another in clumsy words, they promised to behave.

Rorschach raised a hand and pointed toward the warehouse entrance, maintaining his smile as he said:

"Uncle still has some things to do, so everyone go wait for me by the door first, okay? Remember, don't leave on your own, or there won't be any chocolate cake... Understand?"

"Understand!"

"Chocolate! Chocolate!"

The children answered in unison, their little faces brimming with delight at the thought of sweets.

Before Rorschach could give another instruction.

The children actually took each other's hands on their own.

They obediently formed a line and shuffled toward the warehouse entrance in tiny steps.

"Phew—"

Standing where he was, Rorschach watched their excited backs and could not help letting out a long breath.

Dealing with children was far harder than dealing with gang members.

Rorschach swiftly turned around and ran toward where the fight had just taken place.

Shing!

Expressionless, Rorschach drew the long, narrow giant Knife.

He flicked the blade, shaking off the blood.

Then, he casually pulled all the iron nails from the corpses and heads and stuffed them into his pockets.

Rorschach-brand homemade blow darts—the essential tool for killing and silencing witnesses.

One of the corpses had been strangled to death, so there was nothing to clean up there.

Rorschach frowned and thought for a moment.

After confirming that he had not missed anything, he walked over to a nearby table.

Under the bright lights, stacks of cash were strikingly tempting.

Rorschach did not hesitate in the slightest.

He grabbed the black duffel bag lying on the table and began packing the money.

He would consider it reimbursement from the gang for his travel expenses.

After all, riding all the way to Brooklyn had cost him quite a bit of energy.

A few minutes later.

Carrying the bulging bag containing a million dollars in cash, Rorschach took out Sergei's phone.

He first searched online for several numbers, then made a call.

"Hello, this is The New York Times..."

"At Warehouse 10 near the Brooklyn Bridge, there are quite a few missing children kidnapped by the Tracksuit Gang..."

Rorschach deliberately lowered his voice, making it hoarse and deep.

After receiving a clear response, Rorschach immediately hung up.

Then, he made anonymous tip-off calls to The Daily Bugle, the New York Post, and other famous media outlets.

For his final call, Rorschach contacted the police.

Afterward, Rorschach picked up the heavy duffel bag and headed outside.

The reason Rorschach had gone through such a complicated process was that he simply did not trust the NYPD.

There had to be high-ranking officials and crooked cops inside who were in cahoots with criminal organizations.

So, he borrowed the power of the media.

Let the public swept up by the explosive news deal with the NYPD.

This way, the children standing under the spotlight would have an extra layer of protection.

It would keep the gangs from doing something desperate.

Clang!

As Rorschach opened the warehouse's iron doors, he was once again greeted by the children's enthusiastic cheers.

Perhaps most of that enthusiasm was thanks to the chocolate cake.

But when the exhausted Rorschach swept his gaze across the children's innocent smiling faces and sincere eyes, the faint troubles in his heart drifted away with the wind.

At four in the morning, dark clouds blanketed the skies over Brooklyn.

A long-brewing downpour was about to arrive.

From the shadows of a patch of grass five hundred meters away from Warehouse 10, Rorschach watched police cars with flashing lights race madly toward the warehouse and finally relaxed.

He lowered his head to glance at the half stone in his palm.

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

This was the reward the children had given him.

Worthless, yet priceless.

Rorschach narrowed his eyes and gave the warehouse one last look.

Then he quickly rose to his feet and vanished into the deep darkness.

Now, none of it had anything to do with him anymore.

Red Bandana had retired.

Ordinary citizen Rorschach was back.

Not long after, as he crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, the disguised Rorschach kept only the Catachan Combat Knife and the stone.

Everything else was tossed into the swift East River, disappearing without a trace.

Military Boots, the bandana, bloodstained iron nails and steel pipes, as well as the two borrowed phones.

Originally, even the clothes and pants Rorschach was wearing should have been discarded on the spot.

But because he had not prepared replacements, and did not want to ride home naked, Rorschach could only deal with them after returning home.

At that moment, fine droplets of rain began falling from the gloomy sky.

Rorschach carried a shoulder bag on his back.

With the heavy black duffel bag on the rear seat, he sped toward home.

By the time Rorschach carefully opened his apartment door and stepped into the living room, torrential rain came crashing down outside.

The rapid raindrops battered the windows without pause, crackling loudly.

"Phew—"

Having stayed up all night and exhausted to the bone, Rorschach finally relaxed completely.

At this moment, Aunt's bedroom door was tightly shut.

She seemingly had yet to wake from her sleep.

Rorschach tiptoed through the dim living room.

He carried the heavy duffel bag into his bedroom and hid it away.

Then, he took off his clothes and pants and went into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Rorschach, drowsy from the hot water washing over him, forced himself to stay awake and soaked his clothes and pants in disinfectant.

The purpose of doing so

was to destroy the traces of blood remaining on the clothes.

Having finished all that, Rorschach quickly returned to bed.

The moment his eyelids closed—

Soft snores mingled with the patter of rain, echoing through the bedroom.

"...Reset!"

When Rorschach opened his eyes again—

The familiar sound of a calculator seemed to echo in his ears.

Outside the window, rain still poured in sheets, washing away every filthy thing in the city.

Rorschach picked up his phone and checked the time. It was 11:10 in the morning.

Realizing that he had only slept for around six hours, Rorschach had no desire to get out of bed.

He closed his eyes again, wanting to enjoy a little more sleep on this rainy day.

However, Rorschach tossed and turned in bed for quite a while.

No matter what he did, the sleepiness that had slipped away refused to return.

"..."

Rorschach suddenly opened his eyes.

Still lying in bed, he activated the Simulator.

Simulation initializing—

Current identity: Catachan Recruit.

Would you like to descend using this identity? If declined, you will descend at random.

Rorschach narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment before choosing to decline.

What he needed now were powerful firearms and equipment.

Or something even more potent...

For example, the Astartes' twenty-one Augmentation Surgeries!

After all, now that resources from the Simulator had begun to appear—

Rorschach himself had to grow stronger as quickly as possible.

Only then could he create a positive cycle.

Compared to robbing the warehouses of major arms companies—

The criminal organizations scattered all over New York were clearly more suitable targets.

You have descended into the Warhammer Universe.

Time: 433.M40

Location: Cadia, Segmentum Tempestus

You step onto the planet's surface...

Before you have time to observe your surroundings, lethal radiation visible to the naked eye penetrates every cell in your body.

You begin to feel dizzy and short of breath.

You are on the verge of death.

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