Rorschach's Daily Life

To outsiders, this was a conflict with a clear winner and loser.

Rorschach, at 175 centimeters with a well-proportioned build.

Visibly looked a full size smaller than the towering Eugene.

Not to mention, Eugene was the former School Bully.

His years of experience in brawling and fighting far exceeded that of an average high school student.

So the blond man tried to stop Eugene, afraid he might hurt Rorschach and cause even bigger trouble.

"Stop it! Eu... Eugene!"

Unfortunately, Eugene at this moment was like a bull in heat.

He was completely indifferent to his companion's dissuasion.

He had only one thought now: to make the student before him cry his eyes out!

Taste fear, enjoy the fist, learn to fear!

Yet, even facing Eugene with bloodshot eyes.

Rorschach remained calm, his expression unchanged, without a trace of fear.

Fear was merely a breakfast companion for a Catachan Human!

"Cry, kid!"

At that moment, Eugene suddenly raised his arm, his heavy fist about to smash into Rorschach's face.

But unexpectedly, Rorschach's hand had already slipped past Eugene's line of sight.

Several hard knuckles struck heavily beneath Eugene's ribs!

Catachan Fighting Style, First Strike!

"Urgh!"

In an instant, the sneer on Eugene's face froze.

He instinctively opened his mouth wide, a miserable howl already piercing through his chest, about to surge up his throat!

Unfortunately, Rorschach showed no mercy.

Nor did he give the other party a chance to make a sound.

Catachan Fighting Style, Second Strike!

The takeout container fell, and Rorschach's other hand swung like a scythe.

Effortlessly delivering a blow to the side of Eugene's neck!

With just two hits, the burly Eugene's eyes instantly rolled white.

His whole body went limp, collapsing toward the ground like a ragged doll.

Thud!

The wooden floor let out a loud bang, and the blond man in the room gaped, stunned.

Too fast!

Everything had happened too fast!

The strong and weak had reversed in an instant, shattering the blond man's meager imagination.

An ordinary-looking high school student had just taken down Eugene, who had plenty of street-fighting experience!

Even against an adult's attack, Eugene's build could hold out for a long time!

In that moment, the blond man's drunkenness completely vanished, and an inexplicable fear filled his heart.

He looked nervously at Rorschach, his voice trembling as he said:

"Please don't hurt me! You can take my phone and wallet!"

"Sixty bucks. Thanks for your patronage."

Rorschach's face was full of helplessness, and he could only take a deep breath and say.

"I have money! Right away!"

The blond man suddenly snapped back to reality.

He fumbled frantically through his pockets, searching for cash.

"Six... sixty bucks!"

A few seconds later, the blond man barely pulled out a few worn-out bills, exactly sixty dollars.

Trembling, he approached the door and shakily handed over the money.

"Thanks for your patronage."

Rorschach, struggling to keep a smile, took the cash.

He hesitated for a moment, then said:

"Eugene's not dead, but he'll need a few days to recover..."

"Huh?" The blond man froze for a moment, then bowed with a face full of gratitude. "Th... thank you!"

Rorschach shrugged, bent down to pick up the takeout container, and turned toward the elevator.

He was a busy man—countless tasks awaited him back at the restaurant.

"Whoosh—"

The elevator descended slowly, and Rorschach let out a slight sigh.

But his eyes still brimmed with excitement.

His first real fight in life, and he'd won with overwhelming ease!

Of course, if he'd used the Catachan Fang, the first strike would have pierced straight through the other's heart.

Still, the minor conflict between them didn't warrant such bloody brutality.

Soon, Rorschach stepped out of the apartment building with light footsteps.

A breeze brushed his face, gradually calming the restless excitement within him.

He subconsciously analyzed the consequences of the scuffle.

He had faced a threat and acted in self-defense.

Even the police wouldn't harshly judge a high schooler's reckless courage.

Besides, this was a school bully who'd already been expelled.

Not yet of legal drinking age, causing trouble while drunk, and smoking weed on top of that.

If it came to an investigation, his charges would likely be far more serious.

In short, Rorschach wasn't afraid of Eugene calling the cops.

Having sorted this out, a faint smile crept onto Rorschach's face.

His pedaling on the bicycle grew smoother.

Ten minutes later, Rorschach returned to the restaurant.

He immediately threw himself into prepping ingredients without a pause.

As time passed, more and more customers filled the restaurant.

Maybe it was because the weekend was near.

People who'd toiled all week chose to reward themselves with a hearty dinner.

This made both Rorschach and his Aunt bittersweetly busy.

By just six in the evening, "Delicious" Chinese Restaurant was buzzing with noise.

People of all skin tones chatted or buried their heads in their food.

Laughter, singing, cursing—all mingled with the dazzling neon of Chinatown after dark.

It radiated the unmistakable pulse of everyday life.

Having just cleared a table, Rorschach stole a moment of respite.

He wiped his sweat while soaking in the liveliness around him.

In some kind of way, he really enjoyed this orderly chaos.

The people who came to eat here had different jobs, different races.

But at this moment, delicious food erased the artificial divisions of class, wealth, and so on.

All that remained was the joy of tasting good food and the pleasure of making friends.

"Rorschach! Serve the food!"

Rorschach's mind wandered briefly, as if slipping back into his past life.

But then his Aunt's call from the kitchen snapped him out of his faint melancholy, and he got back to work.

"Table thirty-eight, General Tso's Chicken, one serving!"

The restaurant's lively scene lasted until nine in the evening.

Only after the last customer left did Rorschach and his Aunt sit down to eat.

Rorschach finished his dinner quickly.

Then, following his Aunt's instructions, he packed several portions of clean leftovers into takeout boxes.

He took them out to share with the homeless who'd been waiting at the restaurant's entrance.

This was a kind act his Aunt had kept up for years without interruption.

As long as "Delicious" Chinese Restaurant was open, the nearby homeless wouldn't go hungry.

Once everything in the shop was tidied up, the lights were turned off and the door locked.

Rorschach cycled his Aunt home on the back of his bike to rest.

At ten in the evening, Rorschach, after a quick rinse, lay on the bed staring into space.

From the living room came the occasional sound of a calculator resetting to zero.

That was his aunt in the living room, sorting through accounts and tallying up the income.

Wide awake, Rorschach chose to open the Warhammer Simulator.

Cooldown: seventeen hours.

Please invest resources to reduce cooldown (currently holding no resources).

Rorschach frowned, grabbed his phone from beside the pillow, and held it up to the simulator.

Current resource does not match. Please invest resources to reduce cooldown.

Persistent, Rorschach tried one after another: toilet paper, a keychain, bedsheets, and various other odds and ends.

But the simulator before him still refused to accept them.

"What resource does it even need? At least give me a hint?"

Rorschach fell into endless frustration.

Then, as if remembering something, he looked solemn and bit the tip of his finger, squeezing out a few drops of blood, and held them up to the simulator.

Current resource does not match. Please invest resources to reduce cooldown.

"...Sleep!"

Rorschach grumbled, turned over, sucked on his fingertip, and closed his eyes.

Asking for collections, asking for recommendations!

There was a network issue, so it's posted late, haha.