Chapter 2: Breaking Bad!

It was Ginny's first time in the South Side. She had no idea where the address from the radio was, but the moment she heard the words "child abduction," her expression turned serious.

In this country, whatever happens behind closed doors, when it comes to public image, child safety is always top priority for law enforcement.

She reached for the radio, ready to respond—but another hand moved faster and picked up the car phone first.

"Dispatch, this is 7-C-15, en route to the scene."

A moment later, Ginny was slammed back into her seat by a forceful acceleration.

Turning to her side, she saw that Rorschach's usual lazy demeanor had vanished. In its place was a deadly focus and icy calm.

The cruiser pushed past 100 miles per hour, sirens wailing across the streets. Anyone watching knew something serious was happening.

In just a few minutes, thanks to Rorschach's reckless speed, they reached the location mentioned over the radio—a run-down two-story wooden house.

The yard was filled with junk and garbage. As Ginny opened the door, a foul stench hit her nostrils.

"Did I say you could get out?"

Rorschach pushed her head back inside and barked, "Ditch that toy gun. Use your sidearm."

Ginny tensed up, then nodded enthusiastically. "Got it! Don't worry, I'll cover you, Rorschach!"

"Save it, rookie. Stay in the car and cover yourself."

"Wait, what?"

Before she could protest, Rorschach was already walking toward the front yard alone.

Stepping over the trash, he knocked on the door and called out, "CPD. We got a call—"

"F*ck off, pig! You come in here, and I'll shoot your ass!"

He was cut off by a screeching voice, rap-like in cadence. A woman—clearly an overweight Black woman—was shouting obscenities from behind the door.

Still unfazed, Rorschach continued, "Ma'am, last warning. We received a tip you're involved in a child abduction. Put down any weapons and step outside now."

"Shut up! Get outta my house!"

"Okay..."

Rorschach turned and walked back to the patrol car. He popped the trunk and pulled out a Remington M870 shotgun.

With one swift pump, the round chambered with a satisfying click.

He glanced at the stunned Ginny and tilted his chin. "Lesson Two: use a shotgun to breach. Got it?"

Ginny couldn't hold it anymore. "We don't have a warrant, we can't—"

"Lesson Three: adapt."

Without another word, he marched back, aimed at the lock, and blasted two shots—one to the latch, one to the chain.

The door burst open, slamming against the wall.

Ginny watched as Rorschach disappeared inside, shotgun in hand.

Bang bang bang!

Gunfire erupted inside.

Then a deeper BOOM, followed by a man's scream and a child crying.

Ginny's heart stopped. She reached for her gun and flung the door open.

But just as she was about to run in—

Rorschach emerged, face expressionless, Remington in one hand, a little girl no older than six or seven cradled in the other.

The child clung tightly to his neck, sobbing.

"R-Rorschach? You okay?" Ginny stammered and ran up.

"Call it in. Get an ambulance. The child's safe. Two perps, Black couple. Male attacked me with a pistol—his arm's broken. Both high as hell, highly unstable," Rorschach said flatly.

Ginny nodded, relieved he wasn't hurt. She turned to report—

But then—

Behind them came furious shouting.

The Black woman stormed out, cursing, "You had no right to come in and shoot! I know your name, Rorschach Butcher! You betrayed the South Side! You think a badge makes you God?!"

A massive Black man stumbled out after her, arm hanging limp—but eyes wild, pain seemingly absent.

"Take her for now, Butcher. She'll be back in my hands soon enough. This is the South Side. I'll remember her pretty face. She won't get far."

Rorschach stopped.

He sighed, knelt, and set the girl down.

Ruffling her hair, he smiled gently. "Don't look, sweetheart. Close your eyes."

She nodded and shut them tightly.

Rorschach turned to Ginny. "Lesson Four: never let victims suffer twice."

Then—without hesitation—he turned and fired.

BOOM!

The 12-gauge slug hit the man's chest square-on, blasting him off his feet.

Rorschach advanced, racking the shotgun, unleashing shell after shell.

Within seconds, the body was a mangled heap. Silent. Lifeless.

The woman? Frozen, speechless, trembling.

Unseen by all, a red flicker darted from the man's corpse into Rorschach's chest.

He felt it.

But didn't react.

He glanced at Ginny and shrugged.

"Guess we won't need that ambulance."

Half an hour later, outside a home in the South Side—

Ginny gently carried the traumatized girl from the cruiser.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked.

Rorschach lit a cigarette without looking back. "Nah. That's your moment. Newbie bonus. Go enjoy saving a family."

"Bonus?" Ginny rolled her eyes and turned away.

The door opened.

"Cassie!!!" a woman screamed and ran out, hugging the girl tightly. The child cried harder, gripping her mother's neck.

A man in a suit dropped to his knees and embraced them both, tears streaming down.

Ginny stood still, watching, heart full. Pride? Joy? She didn't know. Only that she felt... whole.

In the cruiser, Rorschach smiled faintly.

But confusion crept in.

He knew this area. South Side was his home turf. Drugs, gangs, robberies—common. But human trafficking?

That was rare.

"What's happening to Chicago..."

He shook his head, reached for another cigarette—

His phone buzzed.

Caller ID: Goose.

Rorschach's eyes narrowed. Fingers tightened.

He answered.

A calm, polite voice spoke:

"Rorschach, I need to smuggle a batch of kids to New York. Keep me posted on the department's movements..."