Rorschach, who wanted to prepare for the construction of a Secret Base,
once again underestimated the complexity of New York City's century-old municipal infrastructure.
Only some brief information about the Underground Passage could be found online.
There were not even a few complete blueprints.
For more detailed blueprints,
he needed to personally visit the New York City library and apply for access.
So, Rorschach set off for the library to continue his search.
He pretended to be a university architecture student who needed materials for his graduation project.
That earned him the librarian's "enthusiastic" help.
She was a youthful, beautiful white girl.
She wore braided hair, had a few freckles scattered across her face, and possessed an unusually curvaceous figure.
From the moment Rorschach entered, she thoughtfully held onto his thick arm and asked him question after question.
After figuring out Rorschach's purpose,
she even personally led him down to the library basement.
Having encountered such a situation for the first time, Rorschach immediately felt at a loss.
The girl's seductive gaze repeatedly swept over the bulging muscles stretching his clothes.
She was like a succubus with two horns growing from her head, as though she wanted to swallow him whole.
Rorschach could only maintain a cold, aloof expression.
That was to prevent her from "harassing" him any further.
Handling affection from the opposite sex was not something he was good at.
Killing Heretics and chopping Chaos were what he excelled at.
Fortunately,
the white girl named Felicia did not bother Rorschach too much.
After helping Rorschach find the place,
she merely tentatively asked for his phone number.
Rorschach hesitated slightly.
In the end, he readily gave her his Twitter account.
He spared a thought for the fragile, sensitive feelings of an adolescent girl.
Dr. Head-Chopper, Mr. Rorschach,
was actually a gentle, considerate young man deep down.
Unfortunately, after Rorschach bid farewell to the girl
and turned to enter the basement,
he stared at the neatly stacked mountain of blueprints before him.
A groan escaped his mouth.
"I hate blueprints and data the most..."
Several hours later,
even after Rorschach desperately searched through them, he had only barely found underground blueprints from the nineties.
If Rorschach wanted to find blueprints from recent years,
he would probably have to waste quite a bit more time.
Still brimming with energy, Rorschach let out a sigh.
Then, an idea suddenly sprang into his mind.
Should he sacrifice his looks a little
and invite librarian Felicia to a candlelit dinner?
That way, she might be delighted enough to help him out?--
New York, Queens.
Rorschach rode his beloved Little Lamb through the surging crowds,
and the busy district packed with traffic, as the spring breeze met his face.
He was about to head to an agreed-upon hidden location
for his first "law-abiding (no killing)" gun deal.
The location had been chosen by Aaron Davis.
Rorschach was not angry at the other man's caution.
Instead, he admired it greatly.
However, before leaving home,
Rorschach had still brought along the Plasma Pistol that had undergone a traditional ritual of incense offering and worship.
It was there just in case.
Although he could now crush an ordinary person's bones with one hand alone,
Master Saw-Man was kind-hearted.
He could not bear to see terrifying, twisted corpses.
It was better to make everyone equal with one shot and vaporize them outright.
Rorschach parked his Little Lamb a block away from the meeting place.
Just as he bent over to lock it and straightened up,
on a nearby street,
a little boy out shopping with his mother spotted the powerfully built Rorschach.
The boy's face flushed red with excitement.
His eyes gleamed with little sparks of light.
He could not help blurting out loudly in admiration:
"Mr. Big Guy, you're so tall! Auntie! Auntie! I want to grow into a giant too when I grow up!"
"Sorry, sir."
The dark-haired woman holding the boy's hand gave Rorschach an apologetic smile as he turned to look at them.
Rorschach lightly shook his head to show that he understood.
Then, he smiled and said to the little boy:
"Hey, kid, then you'll have to eat properly, exercise hard, listen to your elders, and study well if you want to succeed..."
Before he could finish, Rorschach nodded to the dark-haired woman again and turned away.
The dark-haired woman curiously watched Rorschach's broad back and blinked several times.
Then, she lowered her head and said to the hopping little boy:
"Peter, did you hear that? Picky eaters won't grow properly."
Upon hearing the dark-haired woman's words,
the little boy's face nearly scrunched into a ball.
He muttered under his breath:
"Auntie, your cooking is really awful..."
"Peter Parker! What did you just say?"
"Oh, I said Auntie, your cooking is the best! I'm a good kid who isn't picky! I'm going to become a giant someday!"
The chatty little boy and the dark-haired woman walked farther and farther away.
Eventually, they disappeared down the street.
By then, the long-departed Rorschach had repeatedly checked his directions
and finally found a shuttered shop named "Wandering"
on a quiet block.
This was the meeting place agreed upon by both sides.
Rorschach vigilantly swept his gaze left and right before stepping forward and knocking on the rolling shutter.
The rhythm of each knock varied in length.
Ding!
Immediately afterward, Rorschach's phone rang with a new message.
"Back door."
Rorschach raised an eyebrow slightly.
Still, he turned and went around to the back door of the shuttered shop.
Before he could knock on the tightly shut back door,
Clack, clack, clack--
The rusty iron door suddenly opened.
A young Black man with wary eyes looked Rorschach over.
After checking the surrounding environment as well, he tilted his head in invitation.
"Come on in, friend."
Rorschach slipped inside and surveyed the interior.
Within the dim light filtering in and the drifting dust,
wooden crates were piled across the floor.
Inside them were guns that gleamed with a cold sheen.
"Just you?"
Rorschach narrowed his eyes and looked at Aaron, the Black man, as he said:
"Aren't you afraid I'll rob you?"
"First, this is just a small deal introduced by Eugene. It isn't worth you making a move..."
The calm-faced Aaron spoke as swiftly as floodwaters released from a dam.
His words unexpectedly carried the rhythm of rap.
"Second, I'm just a law-abiding businessman. These firearms are merely gang guns bought cheaply. I never participate in criminal activities. Even if you're a cop, I have nothing to fear."
"I like how direct and honest you are."
Rorschach nodded and smiled.
He took three thick stacks of cash from his pocket.
He handed them to Aaron.
However, Aaron furrowed his brow slightly.
He stared at Rorschach and said:
"There are only two hundred illegal guns here for now. At a hundred dollars each, twenty thousand is enough."
"The rest is a deposit for the next time, and a bargaining chip to build trust."
Rorschach kept smiling as he said:
"I told you, this is a long-term business. Naturally, the more guns, the better."
Aaron nodded and casually accepted the cash Rorschach had offered.
Just as he was about to turn and leave,
he suddenly turned back and asked:
"Need me to find someone to transport them for you? Don't worry, it's free."
"No need. My people will come take them away."
Rorschach shook his head in refusal.
In truth,
not a single gun could escape the Simulator's appetite.
After Aaron left, Rorschach quietly waited for a while longer.
Once he found that nothing happened,
Rorschach could not help rubbing his hands together.
He began replenishing his resources.
Harmful substance detected: Firearms (one hour) Harmful substance detected: Firearms (one hour) ...
After Rorschach extracted all the firearms,
his Cooldown exceeded three hundred and eighteen hours for the first time!
"An indescribable sense of satisfaction!"
However, just as Rorschach muttered to himself,
the Simulator before his eyes suddenly underwent a new change.
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