Rorschach closed his eyes.
The truck accelerated and drove straight ahead.
The truck stopped, then accelerated again.
The truck turned left, then right...
After a minute, Rorschach stopped trying to memorize the route.
Clearly, the driver was being overly cautious.
Every so often, he would circle around repeatedly.
As if he were evading pursuit or avoiding police checkpoints.
Twenty minutes later.
The box truck entered Hell's Kitchen.
It wound through several desolate streets, broken and riddled with potholes.
Only then did it pull into a garage bearing an old sign that read "Fatty's Auto Repair."
Clatter—
The box truck came to an abrupt stop.
Then the door was yanked open.
At the same time, beside Rorschach's ear.
The man with the heavy Slavic accent spoke.
"Mr. Rorschach, get out!"
At that moment, Rorschach, wearing a black hood, looked like an uninvolved passerby.
He slowly rose to his feet and stepped out of the truck.
His every movement was relaxed and casual.
There was not the slightest sign of panic from someone who had been kidnapped.
His feet touched the ground.
Rorschach, whose hands had not been bound, tore off the black hood and narrowed his eyes as he surveyed his surroundings.
This appeared to be an auto repair shop.
It looked as though it had been abandoned for a long time.
Even the oil stains on the floor were covered by a layer of dust.
Only some repair tools covered by tarps remained piled in the corners.
Along with several scrapped engines, testifying to its former glory.
"Hey!"
Just then, not far from Rorschach.
A bald white man chatting with his accomplices apparently noticed the hostage's unusual movement.
The bald man's eyes instantly turned vicious as he cursed at the top of his lungs.
"Fuck! Who told you to take off the hood?"
Before he had even finished speaking, the bald man lunged forward.
He seemed intent on teaching Rorschach a lesson he would never forget.
However, the armed Slavic man also jumped down from the box truck.
He stopped the hot-tempered bald man.
"Joseph, forget it... he's been cooperative!"
Rorschach narrowed his eyes and looked over.
He discovered that the Slavic man in front of him.
Was much shorter than an ordinary person.
Even with thick elevator shoes on.
He was only around five foot three.
By the truck door, the short man with the Slavic accent shuffled forward.
Staring intently at the expressionless Rorschach, he spoke with great politeness.
"Mr. Rorschach, please come with me..."
"Wait."
Rorschach frowned slightly and looked over the scattered figures once more, a deep disappointment appearing on his face.
"Is this all there is to your Tracksuit Gang?"
Even counting the driver who had just opened the door and gotten out.
There were only four people in the garage.
The short man, who quickly raised his gun in alarm at Rorschach's words.
The bald white man not far in front of Rorschach.
And behind the bald man, a burly Black man who had just stood up with a machete in hand!
"Hey, kid! We're not some fucking gang! We're professionals hired by them at a high price to handle problems!"
"Listen carefully! Professionals!"
The bald white man immediately grinned, his tone full of mockery.
Then he rolled his neck a few times.
And strode toward Rorschach.
He spread his thick arms and pounced at Rorschach!
"Hired killers?"
Rorschach shook his head slightly, his face full of regret.
Suddenly, he dropped his body low.
The taut muscles throughout his body released in an instant, unleashing an incomparably powerful burst of force!
Rorschach's feet slid and stomped.
In the blink of an eye, he brushed past the bald white man charging toward him!
And while the bald man's eyes widened in brief shock.
He shifted his footing and moved behind him!
Bang—
At the same time.
A dull gunshot suddenly rang out, and blood sprayed everywhere!
Yet the one who screamed was the bald white man Rorschach had used as a human shield!
For a moment, the short man who had fired seemed stunned by Rorschach's speed.
He had accidentally wounded his own man.
And flew into a furious panic.
"He... he can dodge bullets!"
For now, Rorschach still could not withstand bullets head-on.
But after being enhanced twice by the Simulator.
Both his explosive power and reaction speed far surpassed ordinary people!
Besides, he was not dodging bullets.
Only the enemy's turning gun barrel.
Everything happened in the span of a spark.
The bald white man screamed as he clutched his shot shoulder, swaying on his feet.
But at the very instant the gunshot rang out.
Rorschach had already spun around sharply and stomped hard against the ground!
Like a beast flying low across the earth, he charged at the short man, the greatest threat in the room!
In the blink of an eye, Rorschach reached him!
The tobacco stench in his ragged breath, the bloodshot whites of his eyes, and the gun barrel turning once more!
Expressionless, Rorschach engaged every sense, taking in every detail about his enemy!
In an instant!
The short man had no time to react before Rorschach seized his wrist.
The muscles in Rorschach's arm bulged, veins standing out!
Crack!
With a crisp snap, the short man's gun hand twisted instantly, bone and tendon breaking!
Then, before he could even feel the pain of the fracture.
Crack!
Rorschach, his gaze cold, raised his foot and kicked the short man in the knee!
"Ugh—"
In an instant, the short man's face first flushed red, then turned deathly pale!
At the same time, Rorschach snatched the pistol from his broken hand.
Leaving him to collapse to the floor.
Then, with every hair on his body standing on end, Rorschach turned again.
And crashed head-on into the burly Black man who had charged toward him!
The Black man's eyes were wide with fury.
"Ha!"
He let out an angry roar.
The gleaming machete came chopping down at Rorschach's head!
Yet Rorschach merely turned his shoulder with ease.
And slipped aside from the machete's edge.
Then he suddenly crouched down.
"That's not how you use a knife!"
Rorschach's eyes gleamed coldly as he abruptly raised the gun and pulled the trigger repeatedly.
Bang bang bang—
In an instant, the scorching bullets tore through the burly Black man's outstretched arm!
"Ah—"
The burly Black man immediately screamed.
His fingers loosened weakly from the handle, and the sharp machete suddenly fell!
Rorschach's free left hand caught the sharp machete in midair and held it before him!
His crouched body lunged forward in a frog-like rush.
The machete's keen blade followed through and embedded itself in the burly Black man's entire abdomen!
Slash!
After a brief pause, the sound of spurting blood echoed throughout the garage.
The burly Black man had been disemboweled!
Yet Rorschach looked as though he had merely completed a trivial task.
Expressionless and without the slightest joy, he rose quickly.
Then he hurled the machete toward the driver!
In an instant.
The gunshots, shouts, sounds of breaking bones.
And the wet patter of organs constantly striking the ground.
Made the terrified driver feel as though he had fallen into an abyss.
Thud!
As the burly Black man's corpse slowly fell, striking the ground with a loud crash.
The blank-eyed driver finally reached instinctively for the gun at his waist.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
Because a sharp machete was already whistling toward him!
Thud—
The machete's sharp edge shattered.
But it still sank deeply into the driver's forehead!
"Hah—"
Once the driver's stiff corpse fell to the ground.
Rorschach, murderous intent flickering across his face, slowly let out a breath and relaxed somewhat.
It had taken less than a minute.
Two enemies dead, two wounded...
And he had merely finished warming up!
Rorschach took a deep breath of the blood-soaked air.
Then slowly walked over to the wounded men still struggling and howling.
"First question. How did you find me?"
Rorschach asked with narrowed eyes.
Unfortunately, apart from pained groans.
He received no answer.
Just then.
The bald white man with the gunshot wound in his shoulder seemed to have adapted to the pain, or perhaps Rorschach's casual tone had enraged him.
Curled up on the ground, he suddenly raised his head.
His hate-filled eyes glared viciously at Rorschach as he ground out through clenched teeth,
"It was you! It had to be you! You were..."
Bang—
Expressionless, Rorschach pulled the trigger.
In an instant, the bald man's mouth exploded, teeth flying everywhere!
"Hrk, hrk."
A great deal of blood flooded back into his windpipe, making his eyes roll back as he began to suffocate.
"Do I need to repeat the question?"
Rorschach blinked, then suddenly turned to look at the short man lying on the ground, unable to move, his gaze sincere.
"No! Not at all!"
Staring at the young man before him, who seemed like a murderous maniac.
The short man, drenched in sweat, ignored the injuries to his limbs, shaking his head as he desperately shouted,
"The list!"
"The Tracksuit Gang gave us a list!"
"As long as someone matched the suspect profile known to the police, we had to track and analyze them according to the information on the list... until we found the real culprit who killed the boss and caused enormous financial losses!"
"And they offered a price we couldn't refuse!"
"Tsk. Not only did they spend lavishly, but the person who came up with this whole plan was a genius too."
Rorschach narrowed his eyes and could not help praising them repeatedly.
Though his tone seemed full of mockery.
Not to mention that, during the public-opinion storm.
Kidnapping hostages everywhere under pressure from the police would offend countless people and countless forces on both sides of the law.
They apparently had not even prepared a contingency plan for after finding the real culprit.
Even if Rorschach was not the culprit.
Did they think the kidnapped hostages would not resist?
These so-called professionals were far too unprofessional.
"We acted entirely according to our employer's demands. Based on the ages listed, you were the youngest of all the targets..."
The short man seemed to understand what Rorschach was thinking.
Regret and resentment filled his eyes as he gave a bitter smile.
"We only wanted to use you for practice, to familiarize ourselves with the process, but we never expected..."
"You never expected God to bless you, and for your luck to be so good that you found the target on the first try, right?"
Expressionless, Rorschach raised an eyebrow and suddenly asked,
"If you don't want to die, tell me where the Tracksuit Gang's current headquarters is. I can spare your life."
"It's in Hell's Kitchen, inside that Baby Department Store that has been abandoned for years..."
As though he had seen hope of survival.
The short man's complexion became much rosier, and he answered very cooperatively,
"Because the New York police and ordinary people have been causing them trouble, their leader chose to gather the core members together to reduce the gang's losses. That way, they could hold out for a while if they encountered danger."
"If you cooperate so readily, how am I supposed to believe that everything you say is true?"
Rorschach stared unblinkingly at the short man, his eyes flickering.
"Besides, isn't betraying clients a major taboo in your line of work?"
"Business. This was just a failed deal!"
"If I tell you, I might live. If I don't, I'll definitely die. And I believe you won't go around publicizing this."
"Maybe we can become partners in certain matters someday?"
"I could even become your eyes and ears in the underworld."
The short man struggled to prop up his upper body, looking at Rorschach with utmost sincerity as he slowly spoke.
Bang—
Just as the short man thought Rorschach's silence meant he was tempted.
A gunshot suddenly rang out!
A bloody hole abruptly appeared in the short man's forehead!
His lips moved soundlessly, and the light in his eyes instantly faded.
"Too much nonsense."
Rorschach delivered his final assessment.
Then, he turned his palm over.
The pistol, with few bullets remaining, was completely absorbed and turned into resources for the Simulator.
Current consumable Cooldown time: Six days and six hours (150 hours)
Rorschach casually glanced at the Simulator.
There were now nine hours left until the next simulation.
Rorschach decisively consumed the converted time resource.
Ending the Simulator's Cooldown.
However, he did not begin the simulation immediately.
Instead, he turned around and cleaned up the traces of battle inside the factory.
After Rorschach found another gun on the driver.
He did not choose to absorb it, instead casually stuffing it into his pocket.
Rorschach could not be sure whether the dead professional.
The short man had told the truth.
But he did not intend to wait for an opportunity either.
He would uproot the entire Tracksuit Gang!
Leave no weeds behind!
Since those people did not know when to quit and were not afraid of death.
Then they could become corpses for good!
Therefore, Rorschach needed weapons.
A great many weapons!
Unfortunately, Rorschach searched the entire factory.
Only to discover that this place was simply abandoned.
There was no hidden gun cache.
Nor was there anything else that could be used to kill.
Other than a pile of grease-covered auto repair tools in the corner.
At that moment, Rorschach frowned slightly and directly opened the Simulator.
He was ready to try his luck.
He hoped The Emperor Protects, and that he could simulate an Imperium-made firearm.
Even an ordinary Astartes las pistol.
Would be far more powerful than current gunpowder weapons!
Simulation initiating— Current identities: Catachan Recruit, Cadian Grenadier. Please select an identity for descent first. If you refuse, descent will be random. Selected identity: Cadian Grenadier. Simulation initiating— You descended into the Warhammer Universe. Time: Unknown. Location: Unknown. You set foot on the planet's surface. You discovered that you had arrived in a city where a Bloody Sacrifice was taking place. Before you could pick up the weapons nearby, you were heavily surrounded by a group of cultists clad in purple robes. You attacked with your bare hands, but even more cultists pressed tightly around you. Before long, you could not even move a finger. You fell into an unsolvable predicament and tried to bite off your tongue to commit suicide, offering your loyalty to The Emperor. You suddenly discovered in horror that your consciousness could not control even a single muscle. "Tzeentch wishes to see you." The cultists with purple light in their eyes spoke in unison.
Not splitting it up this time. A four-thousand-word mega chapter.
Thanks to everyone who supported me with tips!
Please bookmark and recommend!
If you really like it, you can recommend it to your friends too, haha.
Before you continue