Rorschach's gaze shifted instinctively.
He stared into Eugene's eyes.
"Yesterday, you got beaten up. Today, my restaurant got robbed... Eugene, do you really think I'd believe that's a coincidence?"
Before he had even finished speaking, Rorschach abruptly rose to his feet.
He planted one foot on Eugene's chest!
Then he slowly pressed down with his full body weight!
"Ah!"
In an instant, Eugene's features twisted, and his lips turned white.
Bead-sized drops of sweat rapidly formed on his forehead.
Almost wailing, he desperately shouted:
"Rorschach, please believe me! I really don't know anything! Other than occasionally picking on classmates, I've never done anything illegal!"
Yet the silent Rorschach drew a long, massive combat knife from his backpack.
His movements were slow but resolute.
Holding the knife, Rorschach bent down and aimed its tip at Eugene's eye!
Lying sprawled on the floor, Eugene could practically feel the chilling cold radiating from the sharp blade!
He was scared out of his wits and didn't dare move an inch!
At the same time, a cold countdown slipped through Rorschach's clenched teeth.
"One!"
"It was Sergei!"
Under that horrifying psychological pressure, Eugene's eyes instantly lost focus, and he screamed in collapse:
"It had to be Sergei! It had to be him! His cousin is a gangster's enforcer! Sergei told me his whole family has gang connections!"
A fleeting smile touched Rorschach's lips.
The Catachan Combat Knife in his hand did not move.
But the force of his foot on Eugene's chest lessened by more than half.
"I thought Sergei was just bragging. Who doesn't know a few gangsters? But I never thought he'd take part in a robbery—and rob your family's restaurant..."
Tears welled up in Eugene's eyes, his words brimming with indescribable grievance.
Rorschach fell into thought, then suddenly asked:
"What makes you so sure Sergei did it?"
"I'm not sure..."
"But Sergei didn't come to the hospital to see me this afternoon!" Eugene's expression kept changing as he said bitterly, "And the embarrassing story of me getting hurt has spread through the entire social circle! Other than Sergei, no one knew about it!"
"And there's one more thing... Sergei has loved tinkering with guns since he was little. He was just too terrible at it to show off, so he only ever mentioned it to me!"
Sergei was the blond man Rorschach had seen while making deliveries yesterday.
Rorschach took a deep breath and made a decision after briefly thinking it over.
He slowly sheathed the Catachan Combat Knife and moved his foot off Eugene's chest.
"His full name?" Rorschach asked.
"Sergei Petrov," Eugene blurted out.
"Where does he live?" Rorschach continued.
"Somewhere in Brooklyn, probably? I really don't know exactly where... because I've never been to his house!" Eugene desperately explained, racking his brains.
Right now, he was terrified that Rorschach would not believe him and continue the beating.
Rorschach looked Eugene over once more and nodded in satisfaction.
Eugene had been frightened out of his wits now. He wouldn't dare lie.
He truly had not taken part in the robbery.
Rorschach shifted his gaze and suddenly noticed Eugene's phone tossed into the sofa.
He walked over, picked it up, and handed it to Eugene on the floor.
"Call Sergei. Ask where he is!"
"Understood!"
Eugene took the phone, carefully searched for the number, and dialed it.
Unfortunately, all that came from the other end was the monotonous tone of an unanswered call.
Eugene grimaced as he held his neck.
He looked at Rorschach and said with a bitter smile:
"No one's answering."
Rorschach nodded expressionlessly.
That was within his expectations.
"Let me borrow it."
Rorschach took the phone from Eugene's hand and turned to leave.
The night was long. This was only the beginning.
Just as he was about to step through the room's doorway—
Rorschach suddenly stopped and looked back.
"You know the rules for staying alive, right?"
Still trembling on the floor, Eugene hurriedly answered:
"I won't call the police! I won't tip anyone off either! I'll work hard to become a good person!"
"Thank you for your Cooperation."
Rorschach nodded in satisfaction and walked out of the room.
Once the sound of footsteps in the hallway gradually faded away—
Eugene finally struggled to prop himself up, letting out pained groans from time to time.
"This is just a completely senseless disaster..."
Traffic packed the middle of the street, and piercing horns blared one after another.
Night had fallen, and brilliant neon lights continuously shone upon pedestrians heading home along the roadside.
They also illuminated Rorschach's cold, stern face.
At this moment, he was browsing Eugene's social media account.
He was searching for clues about his next target: Sergei.
Ding-dong—
Just then, a Twitter post tagging Eugene appeared in Rorschach's view.
He tapped it casually, and a photo posted by Sergei Petrov slowly loaded.
The photo appeared to have been taken in a dimly lit booth at a bar.
Facing the camera, the shirtless Sergei wore an utterly excited expression, his eyes blazing.
Beside him, two naked women stuck out their asses and posed provocatively.
But the only thing that drew Rorschach's attention—
Was the huge wad of cash clenched tightly in Sergei's hands in the photograph!
Rorschach made a rough estimate. The visible cash alone totaled more than two thousand dollars!
Could a poor bastard who could barely afford delivery fees become rich overnight?
Perhaps such miracles really did exist in this world.
But Sergei Petrov definitely wasn't one of them!
He was one of the robbers who had hit the restaurant during the day. One hundred percent!
Rorschach's eyes narrowed, and he bared his teeth in a cold smile.
"Got you!"
Rorschach then pocketed the phone, twisted the handlebars, and sped down the street.
Brooklyn. Blueberry Nightclub!
The completely unwary Sergei was spending wildly inside, enjoying the night!
Perhaps to provoke the injured Eugene—
Sergei had even thoughtfully included the nightclub's address in the photo.
That greatly reduced the difficulty of finding him!
At that very moment, Rorschach rode into the night wind, passing through pillars of streetlamp light as he headed toward his target.
But before that—
He needed a few things to begin this bloody midnight revelry.
Rorschach searched along the way and quickly found a small supermarket.
By the time Rorschach finished shopping, almost all the cash he was carrying had been spent.
A steel pipe as thick as a finger and over a foot long.
A roll of toilet paper and two boxes of nails.
A military face-paint stick, along with a pair of heavy Military Boots.
Also, because the supermarket was holding a promotional prize drawing—
Rorschach unexpectedly received a red men's bandana as a reward for his purchase.
Under the cover of night, Rorschach stared at the red bandana in his hand.
He couldn't help revealing a cold smile.
Signed at last! Everyone, please invest enthusiastically! Please recommend and bookmark!
Before you continue