The prison was in chaos. This place was packed with criminals Rorschach had once captured. Every one of them wished they could grind Rorschach's bones to dust, just to ease the hatred in their hearts.
But Rorschach didn't care at all. If they wanted to provoke him, then come on. He wasn't afraid of any criminal.
"Look who finally took off the mask—our masked hero," a Black inmate sneered in the prison cafeteria. He had a blade hidden up his sleeve and walked right behind Rorschach, ready for revenge. But like all lowlifes, he couldn't just attack quietly—he had to run his mouth first, taunting Rorschach with a mocking tone.
Rorschach didn't respond. He'd heard worse. He just kept walking forward, silent, completely ignoring this human garbage.
"Hey, Rorschach, you're pretty famous now," the Black inmate pushed further when Rorschach didn't react. "I heard your mom was a whore, wasn't she?"
Rorschach still endured it.
"I want to be famous too. Don't you all agree?" The other inmates in the cafeteria nodded in support. Getting bolder, the Black inmate added, "Maybe I'll help write your biography—call it The Death of Rorschach. How's that sound?!"
As he spoke, the man whipped out the blade and lunged toward Rorschach.
But who was Rorschach? He might've been small, but he had the strength to take on ten men. A true superhero. He raised his cafeteria tray like a shield and blocked the blade. With a twist, he used the tray's edge like a blade and slammed it into the man's chin.
The inmate staggered back two steps from the blow. Rorschach stepped forward and smacked the tray into his face three more times, bending the stainless steel tray completely out of shape. The man's face swelled up on one side, and he collapsed on the floor groaning, spitting out a mouthful of bloody teeth.
It was a clean, technical takedown—but Rorschach wasn't done yet. He smashed the kitchen's glass window, grabbed a pot of boiling oil, and without hesitation, poured it right onto the Black inmate's face. The criminal screamed like a slaughtered pig.
"Aaaaahhh—!"
Security guards rushed over and grabbed Rorschach, knowing full well he had a violent temper and was extremely dangerous. Even those massive, fearless inmates standing nearby showed visible fear in their eyes. The guards could tell—they were terrified of Rorschach.
Some of them even thought they smelled roasted meat coming from the guy writhing on the floor.
Three guards dragged Rorschach away, but his eyes stared straight at the surrounding inmates. "Listen up. It's not that I'm stuck here with you. You're the ones stuck in here with me." His words oozed dominance, making the inmates visibly shiver. This little guy was terrifying—he truly was Rorschach.
Batons struck Rorschach's back, but they couldn't break his will. It was like the entire world couldn't bring him down.
Liu A'dou had seen the whole thing and was deeply impressed. Rorschach was a real man—unshakable even behind bars. So Liu A'dou made his move. He pulled out his magic card gun, firing several playing cards that hit the guards on the backs of their hands. The sharp pain made them drop their batons.
Rorschach frowned and looked up at the narrow window above, spotting a strange masked man perched there. It was him—he had stopped the guards from beating Rorschach.
Liu A'dou leapt onto a cafeteria table. Now everyone had to look up at him. It was like a phoenix landing in a chicken coop—completely out of place. "I saw everything. That scumbag provoked him first, and you guards went after Rorschach? You've gone too far."
Everyone was stunned by the sudden intruder. No one reacted for a good half-minute, until finally one inmate blurted out, "Who the hell are you?"
"Such filthy mouths. Can't any of you talk like human beings?" Liu A'dou replied.
"Who the hell are you cursing at?" The inmate's crew—clearly his underlings—immediately jumped up from the table. Five or six of them stood ready, itching to gang up on Liu A'dou. At this point, the guards had completely lost control.
Liu A'dou glanced at the burly inmate and let out a cold chuckle. "I'm not singling you out. I'm saying all of you sitting here are human garbage." Rorschach's boldness had rubbed off on Liu A'dou, and now he was spitting out contempt for the whole crowd.
That lit the powder keg. Nearly every inmate stood up at once. "You're dead!"
Trash was trash. Liu A'dou kept walking along the long dining table, ignoring all the barking inmates, until he reached Rorschach. "I'm here to get you out."
"Who are you?" Rorschach didn't remember any superhero like this.
Liu A'dou gave a slight smile. "Name's Kaitou Kid. Just a nosy thief." He extended a hand.
Rorschach looked at Liu A'dou and said only one thing: "I need my mask."
"Knew you'd say that." A'dou pulled a gray-and-white, ink-stained burlap hood from his pocket and handed it to Rorschach. "I stole it from the shrink. Your clothes and hat are outside too."
Rorschach pulled the hood on. The ink blot started shifting into unpredictable shapes. Of course, Liu A'dou had no idea what any of it meant.
"You think you're leaving? Dream on! Brothers, let's show them what we're made of!" The inmates grabbed whatever they could as weapons—table legs, stool seats, spatulas. Some had extendable batons, knives, or glass shards turned into makeshift blades. One even wielded a spiked club made from nails.
Kaitou Kid and Rorschach were immediately surrounded.
"Scum!" This prison held only the worst offenders, lifers who were locked up indefinitely because there was no death penalty. In this world, serial killers could always dodge execution if their lawyer used the insanity defense. That's why masked vigilantes like Rorschach even existed—to bring justice through violence when the system failed.
Enough was enough. Liu A'dou raised his hand, already loading tranquilizer darts into his magic card gun. One pull of the trigger and several darts shot out. Inmates collapsed instantly, knocked out cold. Rorschach was far more brutal. He charged straight into the crowd like a savage, breaking bones and crippling limbs, though he didn't kill anyone.
"Get them!" The inmates didn't expect their prey to strike first. After losing several guys, they howled and sent more to attack. But it was useless. One was Kaitou Kid, the other Rorschach—neither of them ordinary.
The ink on Rorschach's mask kept shifting into symmetrical patterns. It looked meaningless, but it actually reflected his emotions. And since it was ink, no matter how it changed, it always looked grim. His attacks were fast and heavy. Though he was outnumbered and took a few hits, the pain only fueled his rage.
Kaitou Kid was much more graceful. He hopped lightly between tables, keeping distance while tranquilizing enemies. The inmates couldn't even touch his coat. Some even noticed his other hand stayed casually in his pocket the whole time—he didn't take them seriously at all.
By the time the guards came charging in with riot gear and shields, Rorschach and Kaitou Kid were already gone. All the inmates lay on the ground—either unconscious or moaning in pain. Blood smeared the cafeteria floor, making the guards gasp in shock.
Kid and Rorschach had escaped, stealing a car and vanishing into the wind.
"Who are you?" Rorschach asked again inside the car.