Unexpected

Generally speaking, a lie needed more lies to cover it up.

But Rorschach's lie incorporated the real history of this world.

The future that was about to happen, along with all sorts of possibilities.

He had merely told certain things that had yet to happen in advance to make his story more convincing.

And compared to Rorschach, who killed as easily as slaughtering chickens,

his aunt, an ordinary person, found it easier to accept the story of a familiar, noble WWII hero rising from the grave to save the world.

Rorschach was merely a minor supporting character in the story, someone carried away by a rush of hot-blooded fervor.

Of course, Rorschach had not expected his aunt to believe all of it.

As long as she stopped being surprised by things that defied common sense.

Such as his rapidly changing physique over the coming period of time.

Such as more money or equipment of unknown origin.

Even if she only half-believed him,

she would not report Rorschach and would instead choose to shield and protect him.

And once Stark publicly revealed the identity of a Superhero,

ushering in a chaotic era where villains and heroes were everywhere,

Rorschach believed his aunt would slowly get used to it.

After explaining everything, Rorschach made lunch for his aunt, who was curled up on the sofa questioning her life.

Then he began handling other matters.

The basement reinforcement work was complete, and the borrowed tools needed to be returned.

The restaurant's renovation and preparations also needed Rorschach's attention.

After all, his aunt's business was still a business, and even more so, a source of emotional support.

Even though Rorschach still had quite a bit of money left, he did not dare take it out all at once.

He was afraid that too much stimulation would be more than his aunt could handle.

Getting too angry could harm her health and cause a cerebral hemorrhage.

Before leaving, the filial Rorschach turned to glance at his aunt.

He discovered that she was viciously stuffing lunch into her mouth with one hand

while counting bills with the other, occasionally muttering indistinctly and chuckling.

This... was progress going smoothly?

Rorschach breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Then, he cautiously said goodbye to his aunt. After receiving an eye roll that clearly told him not to bother her, Rorschach left the apartment with a smile.

This was the meaning of family, and also the source of Rorschach's motivation to fight.

Rorschach first went to the apartment basement and packed up all the tools and equipment.

Then he easily lifted them all in one hand and returned to the second floor of the apartment building.

Herman Schultz was the neighbor kind enough to lend Rorschach the tools.

However, he had recently lost his job and could only stay home.

Rorschach knocked on his door and expressed his gratitude to Mr. Schultz, who looked worn down from unemployment.

Then he offered to hire him to renovate Delicious Chinese Restaurant.

Mr. Schultz, whose hands were covered in calluses and whose build was large and sturdy, immediately grew excited. Even his dark face seemed to take on a faint glow.

A simple job alone had instantly revitalized him.

Rorschach began discussing the construction period and price with him.

Moreover, Rorschach refused the deliberately lowered wage Mr. Schultz offered.

Instead, he named a price slightly higher than market rates as thanks for lending him the tools.

Mr. Schultz was immensely grateful.

After arranging to meet the next morning to discuss the details, Rorschach left the apartment building.

New York's sky remained overcast.

However, the rainfall had gradually thinned, leaving only a persistent drizzle falling stubbornly.

Yet the scattered groups of people on the streets were all fired up, each brimming with fighting spirit.

Even passersby who had known nothing about it quickly caught up on the news and learned what had happened.

They too joined the march in outrage, shouting slogans about protecting children.

Clearly, the media storm Rorschach had personally set in motion had only just reached its first half.

And it showed signs of intensifying further.

Like an ordinary citizen who knew nothing, Rorschach moved against the flow of people toward a nearby supermarket and shopping center.

Perhaps it was because of Rorschach's powerful build.

Or perhaps it was the fierce aura he gave off.

In any case, as Rorschach moved forward,

the people around him instinctively stepped aside.

As though they feared brushing against him in the slightest.

And because Rorschach was thinking about what he needed to buy,

he paid them little attention.

He merely lowered his head slightly, pulled up the hood of his tracksuit, and quickened his pace.

Rorschach had never cared much about clothing.

Since his aunt had always brought him shopping before,

he was left bewildered when faced with the dazzling variety of clothes.

So he could only pick out several sets of clothing that looked durable and tell the clerk to give him ten of each style.

After dealing with the clothes in a simple, blunt fashion, Rorschach bought another five pairs of sturdy, hard-wearing Military Boots.

That way, they would suit both daily life and robbing and killing.

Rorschach carried a large pile of heavy bags and paid quickly and neatly.

However, before the satisfied Rorschach could step out of the store,

two sweating white police officers, who were clearly lacking in exercise, suddenly stopped in front of him.

At the same time, a young freckled police officer cautiously rested one hand on the holster at his waist and said vigilantly,

"Sir, please stop all movement for the moment! Show us your identification or driver's license!"

Rorschach frowned slightly.

A cold glint flashed through his eyes, then vanished in an instant.

Then he slowly revealed a smile.

He asked very amiably,

"Hello, Officer. May I ask what this is about?"

"It's nothing serious. Someone called in to say they saw the Tracksuit Gang."

After looking Rorschach over a few times, the other Middle-aged Police Officer

visibly relaxed and said with a smile,

"But clearly, the caller got it wrong. You're no Slav."

Before he had even finished speaking, Rorschach kept smiling as the muscles tensed throughout his body instantly relaxed.

It was merely an impromptu inspection. There was no need to make a big deal out of it.

His thoughts turned.

Rorschach shook his head slightly and pretended to complain,

"Damn it, I only came out to enjoy a little shopping."

The Middle-aged Police Officer shrugged helplessly and said,

"Sorry, sir. Please show us your identification, and then you can go."

Rorschach set down what he was carrying.

He took out the identification he kept on him from his pocket.

The Middle-aged Police Officer casually accepted it, looked it over a few times, then returned it to Rorschach.

He apologized again,

"Sorry for interrupting your outing."

Rorschach nodded, picked up his purchases, and left the shopping center.

Once Rorschach's back disappeared into the crowd,

the expressionless Middle-aged Police Officer walked over to the disgruntled young officer and said in a low voice,

"The age doesn't match. The report says the suspect is between twenty and forty. That young man was built well, but he's only eighteen. He just developed early."

"Aren't we supposed to be catching Tracksuit Gang criminals? What's with searching everywhere for a murder suspect? Didn't you read the report? That suspect is the hero who saved the child!"

The young officer's face was full of indignation as he suppressed his anger and growled.

"You're too naive. If the suspect who took out gangsters is a hero, then what does that make us police officers?"

The Middle-aged Police Officer sneered, his expression unchanged.

Then he suddenly said to the young officer,

"Forget it. Go rest in the car. I'll look around a bit and head back."

As the young officer walked out of the shopping center in resentment,

the expressionless Middle-aged Police Officer swiftly pulled out his phone and began recording something.

On the screen he opened,

more than a dozen names had already been densely recorded.

Identification numbers and home addresses.

These were all people he had stopped and checked before, a list of suspected individuals.

And Rorschach's information was added to it by the Middle-aged Police Officer!

Once everything was done,

the Middle-aged Police Officer hesitated for a moment before choosing to send it.

"Damn it. This month, I want at least triple the dirty money. With things like this now, the risk of working for them is too high."

The Middle-aged Police Officer muttered to himself.

I'm stuck on the plot. Writing Warhammer content is fun, but writing realistic plotlines is so painful!

Please save it and send recommendations!