Red Bandana (Signed!)

Rorschach instinctively shifted his gaze.

Locking eyes with Eugene:

"Yesterday you got beaten up, and today my restaurant gets robbed... Eugene, do you really expect me to believe that's a coincidence?"

Before the words faded, Rorschach shot to his feet.

Stomping one foot onto Eugene's chest!

Slowly, he applied the full weight of his body through that foot!

"Ah!"

In an instant, Eugene's face twisted, his lips turning pale.

Beads of sweat the size of soybeans rapidly seeped from his forehead.

He nearly wailed, shouting desperately:

"Rorschach, please believe me! I really don't know anything! Aside from occasionally bullying classmates, I've never done anything illegal!"

But the silent Rorschach pulled a long, narrow combat knife from his backpack.

His movements were slow and deliberate.

Rorschach leaned down, knife in hand, the tip aimed at Eugene's eye!

Eugene, sprawled on the ground, could almost feel the biting chill radiating from the sharp blade!

It terrified him to the core, leaving him utterly frozen, not daring to move an inch!

At the same time, a cold countdown slipped through Rorschach's teeth.

"One!"

"It's Sergei!"

Under that immense psychological pressure, Eugene's eyes instantly glazed over as he broke down and roared:

"It must be Sergei! It has to be him! His cousin is a gang enforcer! Sergei told me his whole family has mob connections!"

A faint smile flickered across Rorschach's lips, gone in an instant.

He didn't change his grip on the knife.

But the pressure on Eugene's chest lessened by half.

"I thought Sergei was just bragging—who doesn't claim to know a few gangster friends? But I never imagined he'd actually take part in a robbery, and rob your family's restaurant..."

Eugene's eyes brimmed with tears, his voice carrying an unspeakable grievance.

Rorschach sank into thought, then suddenly asked:

"What makes you so sure it was Sergei?"

"I'm not certain..."

"But Sergei didn't come to the hospital to see me this afternoon!" Eugene's face shifted through a series of expressions as he spoke bitterly. "And the whole story of me getting hurt has spread across every social circle! No one else knows about it except Sergei!"

"Also... Sergei's been tinkering with guns since he was a kid, but he's so bad at it he's too embarrassed to show off—he only ever mentioned it to me!"

Sergei—the blond man Rorschach had seen delivering takeout yesterday.

Rorschach took a deep breath, thought it over briefly, and made a decision.

He slowly sheathed the Catachan Combat Knife and lifted his foot from Eugene's chest.

"His full name?" Rorschach asked.

"Sergei Petrov." Eugene blurted out.

"Where does he live?" Rorschach pressed on.

"Somewhere in Brooklyn, I think? I really don't know the exact place... I've never been to his house!" Eugene racked his brain, explaining frantically.

Now he was terrified that Rorschach wouldn't believe him and would keep up the violence.

Rorschach gave Eugene another look and nodded in satisfaction.

Eugene was thoroughly scared out of his wits now—there was no way he'd dare to lie.

He really hadn't been involved in the robbery.

Rorschach's gaze swept the room and landed on Eugene's phone, tossed into the sofa.

He walked over, picked it up, and handed it to Eugene on the floor:

"Call Sergei. Ask him where he is."

"Got it!"

Eugene took the phone, carefully scrolled through his contacts, and dialed.

Unfortunately, only a series of unanswered rings came from the other end.

Eugene's face darkened as he rubbed his neck.

He looked at Rorschach and gave a bitter smile.

"No one's picking up."

Rorschach nodded expressionlessly.

This was within his expectations.

"Borrowing this."

Rorschach took the phone from Eugene's hand and turned to leave.

The long night stretched ahead; this was only the beginning.

Just as he was about to step out of the room's doorway.

Rorschach suddenly stopped and looked back:

"You know the rules for staying alive?"

Eugene, still trembling on the floor, quickly blurted out:

"I won't call the cops! I won't tip anyone off! I'll try to be a good person!"

"Thanks for the cooperation."

Rorschach nodded with satisfaction and walked out of the room.

After the sound of footsteps in the hallway gradually faded away.

Eugene finally struggled to prop himself up, letting out pained groans.

"What a total disaster..."

--

Traffic was dense in the middle of the street, with harsh honking rising and falling.

Night had fallen, and the dazzling glow of neon lights constantly illuminated the homebound pedestrians along the road.

It also cast light on Rorschach's stern face.

At this moment, he was scrolling through Eugene's social media account.

Searching for any trace of the next target, Sergei.

Ding-dong—

Just then, a tweet tagging Eugene appeared in Rorschach's view.

He casually tapped it, and a photo from Sergei Petrov slowly loaded.

The photo seemed to have been taken in a dimly lit bar booth.

Facing the camera, Sergei, bare-chested, looked extremely excited, his eyes burning hot.

Beside him, two naked women were sticking out their rear ends, posing provocatively.

But the only thing that caught Rorschach's focus.

Was the thick wad of cash Sergei was gripping tightly in both hands!

Rorschach roughly calculated—just the cash visible in the photo was over two thousand dollars!

Would a broke guy who could barely afford takeout suddenly come into a fortune?

Maybe such miracles really existed in the world.

But they definitely didn't belong to Sergei Petrov!

He was one hundred percent one of the robbers who hit the restaurant during the day!

Rorschach's expression shifted, and he grinned coldly:

"Got you!"

Then, Rorschach pocketed the phone, twisted the handlebars, and sped off along the street.

Blueberry Nightclub, Brooklyn!

The utterly careless Sergei was inside, blowing cash and enjoying the night!

Perhaps to rub salt in Eugene's wounds.

Sergei had even thoughtfully tagged the nightclub's address in the photo.

This greatly reduced the difficulty of Rorschach's search!

At this moment, Rorschach rode against the night wind, through the beams of streetlights, racing toward his target.

But before that.

He still needed a few things to kick off this bloody midnight revelry.

Rorschach searched along the road and quickly found a small supermarket.

By the time he finished his shopping, the cash he had on him was almost completely 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-grade oil paint stick and a pair of heavy military boots.

Additionally, because the supermarket was holding a promotional lucky draw.

Rorschach unexpectedly obtained a red men's headscarf as a purchase reward.

Under the cover of night, Rorschach stared at the red headscarf in his hand.

He couldn't help but reveal a cold smile.

Signing up! Everyone, invest enthusiastically! Please recommend! Please bookmark!