It's You, Eugene!

The next morning, eight o'clock.

Aunt was just about to step out of the apartment building's main entrance.

When two brightly colored Scooters blocked her path.

Standing to the side, Rorschach pointed at the red and yellow Scooters, speaking with a grin:

"Aunt, even though your birthday is still over half a year away, consider this an early gift. Anyway, happiness in everything!"

"You little rascal! Wasting money again!"

Though Aunt couldn't help rolling her eyes at Rorschach.

The corners of her mouth were stretched wide, unable to hide the smile on her face.

"Aunt, let me teach you..."

Smiling, Rorschach moved to guide Aunt in learning how to operate the Scooter.

But unexpectedly, Aunt shoved Rorschach aside.

Her slightly rounded chin lifted high.

"Your Aunt used to be an old-school biker... ahem, ah, those are stories from my youth, not worth mentioning!"

Before the words faded.

Whether from excitement or a blush, Aunt.

Hastily snatched the keys dangling from Rorschach's hand.

She chose the yellow Scooter.

Started the engine with practiced ease.

Then, Without Looking Back, Aunt waved a hand and sped away.

"Tsk, I underestimated her..."

Rorschach's eyes widened, clicking his tongue in amazement.

At the same time, Rorschach hoped that Aunt, having received the gift.

Would be understanding enough about his unauthorized privilege to retake the exam...

Rorschach instinctively clasped his hands behind his back.

A faint smile on his face, he went upstairs and back home.

However, after an hour of diligent study.

A furious Rorschach picked up the Chainsword.

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

Why do students need to learn Algebraic Geometry in math?

Aren't the various angles and methods for setting up deadly traps good enough?

Why do students need to take an elective in Performance Art?

Is the Catachan Fighting Style not appealing anymore?

Or are the Cadian combat techniques lacking?

After swinging the Chainsword continuously for half an hour.

Exhausted, Rorschach tossed the weapon aside.

Slumped onto the sofa, panting heavily.

It's one thing if gun resources can't be found.

The Simulator can still handle a few more simulations.

But having a diploma in life constantly adding to his troubles.

That's even more headache-inducing...

As time passed.

Rorschach's eyelids slowly closed, and snoring began.

When Rorschach was jolted awake by the sound of the door opening.

He was shocked to find the sky outside had already darkened.

He had slept through an entire day!

Rorschach was about to get up and head to the kitchen to make Aunt dinner.

But turning his head, he saw Aunt sitting silently on the sofa, her expression grim.

Rorschach frowned slightly and asked in confusion:

"Aunt, what's wrong? Did something go wrong with the restaurant renovations?"

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

Aunt's eyes were slightly reddened, and she choked up as she spoke:

"Mike called me. He was crying, saying they found his brother, but he was already beyond recognition..."

"Mike's mother couldn't handle the shock and completely lost her mind. Big Mouth Mike handed in his resignation and expressed his apologies, so I didn't try to keep him."

Rorschach remained silent.

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

Rorschach was actually the first to know the truth.

But too many twists and turns were tangled up in this.

He couldn't personally tell Mike any truth either.

"Mike said the police still need to keep evidence, so Jerry's funeral has been set for two weeks from now."

Aunt wiped the slightly moist corners of her eyes with the back of her hand, shaking her head with a sigh.

"Mike said he's grateful for our care all these 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's basic etiquette... Which community does Mike's family live in?"

Aunt sighed and said, "Harlem District. That famous colored community."

Rorschach's brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed.

He looked at Aunt seriously and said, "That community has terrible public security. Without me accompanying you, don't go there alone. Big Mouth Mike is a good person, but that doesn't mean all black people are the same."

Aunt nodded, gazing at Rorschach as she said, "I understand... Oh, and one more thing to tell you. Since Mike resigned, the restaurant needs to hire new waitstaff and kitchen helpers."

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

"I don't understand things like superheroes or Captain America, but I know you want to do good deeds. That's something worth affirming, so I won't stop you, Aunt..."

"Aunt, actually I..."

Hearing Aunt's words.

Rorschach couldn't help opening his mouth, but the words rising in his throat just wouldn't come out.

Aunt waved her hand and continued, "I just hope you don't get hurt or put your life in danger. I won't force anything else."

Rorschach then nodded heavily.

After a moment of silence, he chose to change the subject: "Aunt, have you thought about what kind of people to hire?"

"Male or female doesn't matter. Mainly someone who listens carefully and is quick with their hands and feet..."

Aunt frowned slightly, thought for a moment, and said, "It doesn't even matter if they can't cook. It's just simple work like cutting vegetables and preparing meals... Anyway, we'll interview them when the time comes, right?"

Rorschach shrugged, then casually chatted with Aunt.

Not long after, he ended the conversation with her.

Midnight.

Expressionless, Rorschach held the Chainsword in one hand.

The other hand, holding the Plasma Pistol, rested on his chest.

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

Rorschach had just looked up the number of missing children nationwide in recent years.

Even the count tallied by the New York police alone was shocking to him.

If the disabled children who were mutilated were targeted for the economic value of their organs and corneas.

Then where did all the other healthy children go?

Was the Tracksuit Gang the only one running similar criminal operations in all of New York, or even the whole country?

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

Did he need to notify the superheroes?

Whether Iron Man Stark would get involved was uncertain.

But Captain America would definitely act.

However, if Rorschach accidentally exposed his identity.

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

Also, how could he stably obtain resources and firearms from the Simulator?

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

Or learn how to make guns from the internet?

If he made guns, what materials would he need?

Rorschach closed his eyes, his Thoughts churning.

He went back and forth, pondering countless unanswered questions.

Until he grew drowsy and hazy, on the verge of drifting off.

Then, a notion he had long overlooked.

Suddenly burst forth from his mind!

"My information is cut off, but someone out there is well-informed!"

Rorschach sat up from the bed in an instant, a faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

"For instance, dear Eugene."

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