It's You, Eugene!

The next morning, eight o'clock.

Auntie had just stepped out of the apartment building.

When two brightly colored Little Lamb scooters blocked her path.

Standing nearby, Rorschach pointed at the red and yellow scooters and said with a grin:

"Auntie, even though your birthday is still more than half a year away, consider this an early gift. Anyway, happy everything!"

"You brat! Spending money again!"

Although Auntie could not help rolling her eyes at Rorschach.

The smile curling her lips could not hide the joy on her face.

"Auntie, let me show you how to—"

Smiling, Rorschach had wanted to teach Auntie how to operate the scooter.

But Auntie shoved him aside.

Her slightly rounded chin lifted high.

"Your auntie used to be a motorcycle veteran... Ahem, well, that was all when I was young. No need to bring it up!"

Before she had even finished speaking.

Whether from excitement or embarrassment, Auntie—

Snatched the keys from Rorschach's hand.

She chose the yellow Little Lamb.

She skillfully started it up.

Then, without looking back, Auntie waved and rode away.

"Tsk, I underestimated her..."

Rorschach's eyes widened as he clicked his tongue in amazement.

At the same time, he hoped that after receiving the gift—

Auntie would be more forgiving about him secretly obtaining the privilege of taking a makeup exam...

Rorschach unconsciously clasped his hands behind his back.

With a faint smile, he went upstairs and returned home.

However, after studying hard for an hour.

An enraged Rorschach grabbed the Chainsword.

And began wildly swinging it through the living room like a madman.

Why did students need to study algebra and geometry?

Weren't the various angles and methods for setting up killing traps better?

Why did students need to take performance art as an elective?

Was Catachan Fighting Style no longer good enough?

Or were Cadian combat techniques somehow lacking?

After swinging the Chainsword nonstop for half an hour.

An exhausted Rorschach casually tossed aside the weapon.

And sat on the sofa, panting heavily.

It was bad enough that he could not find any firearm resources.

The Simulator could still support a few more simulations.

But that graduation certificate was still causing trouble in his real life.

That was even more of a headache...

As time passed.

Rorschach's eyelids slowly closed, and snores soon followed.

When the sound of the door opening startled Rorschach awake.

He realized that the sky outside had already darkened.

He had slept for an entire day!

Rorschach had just wanted to get up and make dinner for Auntie in the kitchen.

But when he turned his head, he saw Auntie sitting silently on the sofa, her expression ugly.

Rorschach frowned slightly and asked in confusion:

"Auntie, what happened? Did something go wrong with the restaurant renovation?"

"Jerry... Big Mouth Mike's missing younger brother has been found..."

Auntie's eyes reddened slightly as she choked up.

"Mike called me. He was crying when he said they found his brother, but... he was no longer recognizable..."

"Mike's mother could not withstand the shock and completely lost her mind. Big Mouth Mike asked to resign and apologized, so I did not try to keep him."

Rorschach remained silent.

There was no expression on his face. He was as calm as a corpse.

Rorschach had actually been the first person to know.

Unfortunately, too many complications were involved.

He could not personally tell Mike the truth.

"Mike said the police still need to keep the evidence, so Jerry's funeral has been scheduled for half a month from now."

Auntie wiped at the faint moisture in her eyes with the back of her hand and sighed, shaking her head.

"Mike said he was grateful for how we have looked after them over the years. He hopes we can attend the funeral when the time comes..."

Rorschach nodded silently and said in a low voice:

"We really should go. It is basic courtesy... Which neighborhood does Mike's family live in?"

Auntie sighed and said:

"Harlem District, that well-known minority neighborhood."

Rorschach frowned slightly before relaxing.

He looked seriously at Auntie and said:

"That neighborhood has terrible public safety. Do not go by yourself without me. Big Mouth Mike is a decent person, but that does not mean every Black person is the same."

Auntie nodded and gazed at Rorschach.

"I understand... Oh, there is one more thing I need to tell you. Since Mike resigned, the restaurant needs to hire new waitstaff and kitchen helpers."

"Rorschach, you have grown up and have your own career now..."

"I do not understand all that Superhero or Captain America stuff, but I know you want to work hard and do good things. That is something worth affirming, so Auntie will not stop you..."

"Auntie, actually, I—"

Upon hearing Auntie's words.

Rorschach could not help opening his mouth, but the words rising to his throat would not come out.

Auntie waved her hand and continued:

"I only hope you do not get hurt and do not put your life in danger. I will not ask for anything else."

Rorschach immediately nodded heavily.

After remaining silent for a moment, he chose to change the subject.

"Auntie, have you decided what kind of people to hire?"

"Men or women, it does not really matter. The important thing is that they are conscientious, obedient, and quick with their hands..."

Auntie frowned slightly and thought for a moment.

"It does not matter if they cannot cook. They will only be chopping vegetables and plating meals, simple work... Anyway, we can discuss it after we interview them, right?"

Rorschach shrugged, then casually chatted with Auntie.

Not long afterward, the conversation came to an end.

Late at night.

Expressionless, Rorschach gripped the Chainsword in one hand.

His other hand held a Plasma Pistol against his chest.

He lay on the bed, staring at the dim ceiling.

Rorschach had just looked up the number of missing children nationwide over the past few years.

The figures recorded by the New York police alone had been horrifying.

If the disabled children who had been mutilated were targeted for the financial profit from their organs and corneas.

Then where had all those other healthy children gone?

Were the Tracksuit Gang the only ones in all of New York, or even the entire country, running similar criminal operations?

Was the so-called Underworld King the mastermind behind the entire chain of profits?

Should he notify a Superhero?

Whether Iron Man Stark would get involved was uncertain.

But Captain America definitely would.

However, if Rorschach accidentally exposed his identity.

Then S.H.I.E.L.D., crawling with Hydra agents, would always remain a massive hidden danger!

And how could he reliably obtain firearm resources from the Simulator?

Should he just go crazy for once and rob an arms dealer's warehouse?

Or should he learn how to make guns online?

If he made guns, what materials would he need?

With his eyes closed, thoughts churned through Rorschach's mind.

He went over countless unanswered questions again and again.

Until he was drowsy and muddled.

A thought he had neglected for far too long.

Suddenly burst into his mind!

"My information may be limited, but someone has connections!"

Rorschach instantly sat upright in bed, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

"For example, my dear classmate Eugene."

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Damn it, that advertising bastard was impossible to kill off!