"Go back! It's dangerous here!"
"They're targeting you—get out of here, now!"
Several CIA agents shouted at Rorschach as he stepped forward into the chaos. Some, paralyzed by fear from witnessing the Red Devil and Riptide in action, could only tremble, unable to react.
Rorschach didn't seem to hear them. He calmly reached out and yanked an assault rifle from one agent's hands.
"Borrowing this," he said casually.
Then, he moved forward to the mutilated statue in the courtyard—the one resembling a man torn in half—leapt onto it with ease, and perched there like a sentinel. Weapon at the ready, he surveyed his surroundings, eyes sharp, ears tuned.
Swoosh!
A flash of red streaked across the courtyard.
The Red Devil had arrived again.
Before the other agents could even raise their rifles, Rorschach had already reacted.
Bang!
He spun and fired—but the Red Devil vanished a heartbeat before the bullet hit.
Swoosh!
Bang!
Swoosh!
Bang!
It became a deadly game of cat and mouse—Rorschach firing each time the Red Devil appeared, forcing the mutant to blink away again and again. Despite his teleportation speed, the Red Devil found himself unable to get close. Rorschach was reading him like a book.
Now fully engaged, the Red Devil turned his attention entirely to Rorschach, abandoning the rest of the agents.
Watching from nearby, Riptide folded his arms and smirked.
"Interesting."
He had no intention of stepping in. They were seasoned veterans, loyal to the Black Emperor, but they didn't waste effort ganging up on rookies. Besides, he knew the Red Devil's capabilities—teleportation, lethal precision. This upstart wouldn't last long.
Or so he thought.
"Ah… I didn't expect to find such potential hiding here."
A smooth, regal voice cut through the chaos. A man in a polished helmet strode into view, calm and majestic.
Sebastian Shaw—the Black Emperor.
Gunfire erupted again as the remaining agents turned their weapons on him.
Shaw didn't flinch.
To him, these men were nothing. Not even worth acknowledging.
Riptide finally stirred. He raised his hand—and released a focused tornado.
Whooosh!
The agents screamed as they were hurled like ragdolls. When the wind died down, the courtyard was strewn with bodies—most still alive, but battered and groaning.
Rorschach watched it all from his elevated position. When his eyes met Shaw's, he didn't move. He knew better than to attack. Shaw would just absorb the energy and grow stronger. It was pointless.
The Red Devil teleported nearby again and called out quickly:
"Shaw, I'm almost finished here!"
Shaw gave a leisurely smile.
"No rush. I'd like to see more of our new friend's abilities."
Despite the words, the Red Devil didn't dare stall. He flickered faster and faster around Rorschach, testing his reaction speed, closing in.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Rorschach kept up for a while, but soon, the Red Devil's movement became too quick, too frequent. Rorschach's shots started to lag behind—missing by inches.
Then—click. He was out of bullets.
He glanced at the weapon, reloading.
The Red Devil's eyes gleamed. "Now!"
He teleported directly behind Rorschach, arm outstretched, ready to grab him.
One touch—and he'd teleport them into the sky and drop him to his death.
"Rorschach, behind you!"
Screams rang out from the onlookers—Raven, Hank, the Kraken—all watching in horror.
Swoosh!
But before the Red Devil could touch him, Rorschach's hand shot backward.
Snap!
He seized the Red Devil by the throat.
The mutant's eyes went wide in shock—How?!
Before he could react, Rorschach twisted.
Crack!
The Red Devil dropped like a stone.
Silence fell.
No one could believe what they'd seen. Even Shaw's eyes narrowed slightly.
How did he do it?
What the Red Devil never knew was that Rorschach had been tracking him not by sight—but by sound.
The beat of a heart.
Every time the Red Devil moved, his heartbeat betrayed him. Rorschach could hear it. Predict it. React faster than the eye could see.
That's why he lured the Red Devil closer—because only at close range could he strike with precision and power.
He had been planning this from the start.
One hit. One kill.
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