Chapter 61: Spending a Beautiful Night Together, Magnetois Jealous
Rorschach didn't speak again, just slowly leaned in and gently kissed her forehead, then her cheek, and then her lips, his movements as tender as if he were cherishing a fragile treasure.
Raven's body stiffened for a moment, then immediately relaxed. She gently closed her eyes, enjoying the moment while slowly responding and catering to him—she had never felt this way before: flustered yet heart-pounding, shy yet longing, like an ignited flame spreading through her entire body in an instant.
Rorschach gently pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head, his fingertips lightly caressing her body with soft movements.
Raven couldn't help but reach out and gently hug his waist, burying her face in his chest. Feeling his steady heartbeat, the chill around her seemed to be dispelled by his warmth.
The night grew deeper, and the evening breeze on the balcony carried a hint of tenderness, whisking away the scent of the two as it dissipated into the night.
Rorschach took Raven's hand and walked toward his room.
"It's too fast," Raven said suddenly.
"What?" Rorschach turned back and asked.
"I mean, isn't this too fast?" Raven said with a mix of panic and excitement.
"No, there's something even faster," Rorschach teased.
The dim light cast their shadows as they slowly overlapped. A startled cry rang out, followed by the sound of rapid breathing.
After a while, Raven finally caught her breath. Lying on Rorschach's chest, she didn't want to move a single finger. As they snuggled together, she finally understood what "fast" meant. She had also witnessed Rorschach's power.
The two embraced quietly, whispering small talk, chatting about everything from abilities to personal thoughts, from confusion to expectations.
Raven gradually let down all her defenses. The shyness in her eyes faded a bit, replaced by more reliance.
Late at night, the two slept in each other's arms, spending this quiet and passionate night together.
The next morning, the first ray of sunlight shone through the barracks window onto the two of them.
Rorschach slowly woke up. Beside him, Raven was still fast asleep, her long eyelashes trembling slightly, her cheeks still flushed with a lingering blush, looking charming and moving.
He gently raised his hand, his fingertips lightly brushing her cheek. His movements were tender, with a hint of secret joy hidden in his eyes.
He remembered the system notification that had sounded last night and checked it: "Mutant Raven detected. Obtained superpower through intimate contact: Shapeshifting 2.0, 100 points. Current points: 7600."
"Original Shapeshifting 1.3 merged into Shapeshifting 2.0. Current Shapeshifting Ability level updated to 2.0."
Rorschach's heart stirred, but a gentle smile remained on his face as he planted a soft kiss on Raven's forehead.
Raven was startled awake by his action. The moment she opened her eyes and saw him, her cheeks instantly turned bright red. She hurriedly tried to get up but was held tightly by Rorschach.
"Don't be in such a hurry to leave," Rorschach's voice carried the raspiness of someone who had just woken up, his tone gentle yet playful. "Last night, we weren't this distant."
Raven's cheeks turned even redder. She buried her face in his chest, not daring to look up, her voice as thin as a mosquito's buzz: "You... don't tease me."
"I'm not teasing you," Rorschach said, gently stroking her long hair, his tone serious. "Raven, being with you feels very comfortable."
Raven didn't speak, just lightly bit her lip. Her heart was a whirlwind of emotions—shyness, excitement, curiosity and attachment to Rorschach, and a faint, almost imperceptible sense of panic.
She knew that from last night onward, everything had changed.
After snuggling for a moment, they finally got up and tidied their clothes.
When they walked out of the barracks, the Mutants in the base had already begun a new day of training. Eric still stared at Rorschach with a cold gaze.
But this time, he keenly sensed that the atmosphere between Rorschach and Raven was different—the way Raven looked at Rorschach held more shyness and avoidance, while the way Rorschach looked at Raven was more intense.
"Raven, come over and train!" Eric's tone was even colder than usual, and his hostility toward Rorschach grew stronger.
He vaguely guessed what had happened last night, and the worry and hostility in his heart became increasingly intense.
Raven's expression changed slightly. She quickly walked away from Rorschach and toward Eric. Her steps were a bit unnatural, and the tips of her ears were still red.
Rorschach looked at her back, a smug smile curling his lips, a glint flashing in his eyes—not only had he harvested Raven's Shapeshifting Ability, but he had also completely captured her heart. This was definitely a win. An ever-changing girlfriend—just thinking about it was exciting.
Just then, Eric's voice came again, his tone mocking: "Rorschach, it seems you're not here for refuge, but for a vacation?"
Rorschach shrugged, looking indifferent: "I was just idle, so I thought I'd get to know some new friends. I wouldn't call it a vacation, would I?"
"This is a training base, not a place for you to chat and hit on people." Eric stepped forward slowly, the magnetic field around him fluctuating slightly, his tone carrying a warning.
"Either stay put or join the training. Don't cause trouble here."
"Cause trouble?" Rorschach raised an eyebrow, his tone provocative. "I just had a few words with Raven. How is that causing trouble?"
"Or is it, Eric, that you just don't like the look of me and are looking for trouble on purpose?"
"You!" Eric's eyes turned cold. He raised his hand to manipulate the magnetic field but was stopped by Charlesnearby.
"Eric, don't be impulsive!" Charles's tone was firm. "Rorschach hasn't done anything wrong. Stop targeting him."
Then, he turned to Rorschach, his tone helpless: "Rorschach, I know you're very powerful and don't need basic training, but please be considerate of us and don't disrupt the order here, okay?"
Rorschach smiled and nodded: "Don't worry, I won't disturb your training."
At this time, Alex was practicing Laser Control not far away. The red light at his fingertips flickered, and he failed to hit the bullseye precisely several times. He couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated, clenching his fists tightly.
Rorschach glanced over but didn't say much—although as a transmigrator he knew the abilities of the other Mutants here well, as an outsider, he naturally couldn't rashly step in to help.
Chapter 62: An Increasingly Complex Situation
Charles saw Alex's impatience and quickly walked over, guiding him in a gentle tone: "Alex, don't rush. The most crucial part of controlling the laser is to steady your mind."
"Concentrate on controlling the energy output; don't be too eager for success."
Alex nodded, took a deep breath, and urged the energy within his body again. The red light at his fingertips gradually stabilized and shot toward the bullseye—though it didn't hit the center, it was much closer.
Eric watched this scene, his expression still grim, but he didn't look for more trouble with Rorschach, turning instead to continue guiding the other Mutants in their training.
Moira walked up to Charles and said in a low voice, "Charles, this Rorschach is too mysterious and extremely powerful. We can't afford to let our guard down."
"If his intentions aren't pure, he would be a massive threat to both us and the Mutants."
Charles nodded, his tone grave: "I know, but I can feel that he has no ill intent, at least not for now."
"Besides, with him here, we'll have more confidence in dealing with the Missile Crisis and the Hellfire Club."
"But as for Eric..." Moira hesitated.
"I will convince him," Charles said firmly. "The most important thing right now is to unite all Mutants to face the Missile Crisis together. We can't have internal strife because of Rorschach."
On the other side, Tom quietly walked up to Rorschach and whispered, "Rorschach, you were amazing just now! But Eric seems really angry. Should you go and apologize to him?"
Rorschach glanced indifferently at Eric, his tone carrying a hint of disdain: "Why should I apologize to him? He was the one who came looking for trouble with me first; it's not like I actively provoked him."
"But..." Tom wanted to persuade him further, but Rorschach interrupted him.
"No more 'buts.' Just practice your ability properly and don't hold us back," Rorschach said flatly.
"Once your ability grows stronger, you won't have to be afraid of those soldiers anymore."
Tom nodded. Although still a bit worried, he obediently walked to the side and began practicing his Light Manipulation ability.
Under Charles's guidance, he was now barely able to control the white light at his fingertips, and it was no longer as chaotic as before.
Rorschach leaned against the railing of the training grounds, watching the busy Mutants before him, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.
Charles's Telepathy, Eric's Magnetic Field Manipulation, Raven's Shapeshifting, Alex's Laser, Banshee's Sonic Waves, Darwin's Adaptation, Angel's Flight and Venomous Feathers... and Tom's Light Manipulation—every single one was incredibly powerful.
As long as he could harvest these abilities one by one, his strength would surely skyrocket. By then, he would be able to do as he pleased in this world.
For now, he had only obtained Raven's Shapeshifting Ability without anyone noticing. Next, he would slowly look for opportunities, quietly finding chances, and never exposing his secret.
"What are you thinking about?" Raven's voice suddenly sounded beside him, her tone gentle, with a trace of lingering shyness in her eyes.
Rorschach turned and saw Raven standing beside him, looking at him curiously. He chuckled and said, "I was thinking that with so many powerful Mutants gathered together, things will definitely be very lively in the future."
"Also, I was wondering if you'll surprise me tonight by transforming into someone I've never seen before."
Raven's cheeks turned slightly red, and she glared at him with a hint of playful annoyance: "Don't push it!"
Despite her words, her appearance shifted slightly in the next second, turning into a charming woman—exactly the type Rorschach preferred.
Rorschach's eyes lit up, and he said with a smile, "Beautiful! Raven, you truly didn't disappoint me."
Just then, Eric's voice rang out again, cold and sharp: "Raven, don't waste your time with him. Come over and train!"
Raven's expression changed slightly. She quickly reverted to her original form, rolled her eyes at Rorschach, and turned to walk toward Eric.
Rorschach watched her back, the smile on his lips deepening.
As long as they continued to spend time together, it wouldn't be difficult to win her heart completely.
Charles walked over to Rorschach and said warmly, "Rorschach, thank you for not disrupting the training order."
"It was nothing," Rorschach said indifferently. "Since I promised you, I won't go back on my word."
"Don't take Eric's attitude to heart," Charles sighed.
"I believe that over time, he will definitely accept you."
Rorschach smiled and gave a noncommittal response without speaking—he didn't care at all whether Ericaccepted him; what he truly cared about was Eric's powerful ability.
Once the right moment arrived, he would harvest that ability without hesitation. As for Eric's attitude, it was irrelevant to him.
As the sun set, the training finally ended, and the Mutants dispersed to rest.
Rorschach found a quiet corner and brought up the system panel in his mind to carefully check his abilities and points.
[Host: Rorschach]
[Abilities: Super Speed 2., Invisibility 1., Super Defense 2.2, Super Strength 2.1, Energy Manipulation 2.0 (Fused with Light Manipulation 1.0), Shapeshifting 2.0 (Fused with Raven's Shapeshifting Ability), Super Regeneration 2.0, Telepathy 2.0, Mind Control 2.0, Flight 2.0, Laser Eyes 2.0]
[Current Total Points: 76]
Looking at the abilities on the panel, Rorschach smiled with satisfaction—this relocation had certainly been worth it. Not only had he found a safer place to stay, but he had also quietly harvested Raven's and Tom's abilities, increasing his points as well.
This was only the beginning. Next, he would use the opportunities provided by training and social interaction to slowly get closer to Alex, Banshee, Darwin, and Angel to find chances to harvest their abilities.
At the same time, he had to carefully hide his true intentions and skillfully handle Eric's hostility, Charles's probing, and Moira's secret observations.
The ideological conflict between Charles and Eric, the Missile Crisis caused by Sebastian Shaw and the Hellfire Club that Moira mentioned, and the military hiding in the shadows all made the current situation increasingly complex.
Rorschach leaned against the wall, gazing at the distant sunset, a sharp light flashing in his eyes.
No matter how complex this world became or how much trouble he encountered, his goal would not change—to quietly harvest the abilities of all powerful Mutants, never expose his system secret, and become the strongest in this world.
As for peace between Mutants and humans or the resolution of the Missile Crisis, none of it had anything to do with him.
He was merely an "Ability Harvester" from another world. Once he had harvested enough powerful abilities, he would turn and leave, leaving behind his own legend and a Mutant world that had been thoroughly shaken.
Night fell once more, and the new base sank into silence, yet undercurrents were surging.
Rorschach's sudden intrusion, Eric's hostility, Charles's balancing act, the Mutants' individual thoughts, the CIA's shifting attitudes, and Sebastian Shaw in the shadows all intertwined, making the situation more and more uncertain.
Chapter 63: Darwin's Bloody Misfortune
As the morning sun climbed over the base wall, Rorschachwas already leaning against the railing at the edge of the training ground, his gaze idly sweeping over Darwin, who was doing warm-up exercises.
Armando—codename Darwin, ability: Adaptive Evolution. Rorschach was all too familiar with this setting: as long as the environment demanded it, his body would automatically evolve corresponding defense mechanisms.
This ability sounded plain, but in reality, it was a divine skill with limitless potential, theoretically capable of adapting even to death itself.
The only problem was that this ability was only at level 1 and was still in its initial 'getting stronger by taking hits' phase.
Rorschach narrowed his eyes, already having a plan in mind—he needed to let this kid get hurt a bit, but not too badly, and without raising any suspicion.
"What are you looking at?" Raven asked, having appeared beside him at some point, following his line of sight. "Darwin? You're interested in him too?"
The question was loaded with meaning, her eyes holding three parts curiosity and seven parts wariness.
Rorschach's expression didn't change as he casually wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning down to chuckle softly in her ear: "I'm interested in his ability, and I'm interested in you. Does that conflict?"
Raven's ears flushed slightly red, but she didn't pull away, just shot him a glare: "Smooth talker."
"My teeth are quite straight, actually." Rorschach grinned, flashing a set of white teeth. His smile in the sunlight was indeed dazzling enough to make one's heart skip a beat.
Raven was about to speak when Eric's voice rang out like a death knell: "Raven! Training!"
Raven sighed, patting the back of Rorschach's hand. "Have fun by yourself. I'm going to deal with that jealous jar."
"Jealous jar?" Rorschach raised an eyebrow. "If he hears you say that, he'll probably blow a gasket."
"Well, you'll handle it." Raven blinked, then turned and walked away, her figure swaying gracefully.
Rorschach smiled, his gaze locking back onto Darwin.
The opportunity came faster than expected.
Charles had arranged "Ability Confrontation Training" for today—pairs would engage in controlled combat drills, aimed at helping the newcomers get familiar with combat rhythms.
Darwin's opponent was Sea Witch Xien.
Banshee's sonic attacks were wide-ranging and highly penetrating. Darwin could initially manage by evolving soundproof membranes on his body to barely block them, but as Sean gradually increased the intensity, sweat began to bead on Darwin's forehead. The evolution speed of his eardrums couldn't keep up with the changing frequency of the sonic waves.
"Stop!" Charles called out in time, stepping forward to check on Darwin. "Armando, are you okay?"
Darwin rubbed his temples and grinned. "I'm alright. Just a buzzing in my head, like a hundred bees are stuck in there."
Charles nodded, turning to the others. "See? Darwin's ability needs time to adapt. When facing sustained, high-frequency attacks, there's a brief 'evolution delay.' That's his weakness, and it's a characteristic you all need to understand."
Rorschach spoke up at the right moment. "Charles, how about I spar with him? I promise to stop at the appropriate point."
As soon as he said this, the expressions of those around him varied.
Eric was the first to object. "You? You won't even talk about your own specific abilities. Who knows if you'll go too hard?"
Rorschach spread his hands, looking innocent. "I just want to test his adaptation limits. It's not a fight to the death. Besides, with you and Charles watching, what trouble could I possibly cause?"
Charles pondered for a moment, then looked at Darwin. "Armando, what do you think?"
Darwin glanced at Rorschach, then at Charles. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Alright. I'd like to see just how strong this mysterious big brother really is."
Rorschach smiled, patting his shoulder. "Don't worry. I know my limits."
The two walked to the center of the training ground, and the surrounding area automatically cleared out.
Eric crossed his arms, the magnetic field around him fluctuating slightly, clearly prepared to intervene and rescue at any moment. Charles stood to the side, his psychic energy quietly covering the entire field.
Raven bit her lip, her eyes filled with worry but even more with curiosity—she also wanted to know how many cards this man, who had unsettled her so much last night, was hiding up his sleeve.
"Ready?" Rorschach asked.
Darwin took a deep breath and assumed a defensive stance. "Bring it on."
Rorschach didn't move. He simply extended his right hand, fingers curled loosely.
The next second, a thin laser shot from his fingertips straight toward Darwin's shoulder.
The laser was astonishingly fast. Darwin had no time to dodge and could only instinctively twist his body—the laser grazed past his sleeve, leaving a scorch mark on the fabric.
"Holy shit!" Darwin was startled, instinctively touching his shoulder. He only relaxed after confirming he wasn't injured. "You're playing for real?"
Rorschach smiled innocently. "I said I'd stop at the appropriate point. That was just a warm-up."
A few light chuckles sounded around them, easing the tense atmosphere slightly.
But Darwin couldn't laugh—he clearly felt that if Rorschach had wanted to, that laser could have pierced right through his shoulder.
"Your ability... is it absorbing energy and then converting it into attacks?" Darwin ventured to ask.
Rorschach didn't answer directly, just crooked a finger. "Continue."
Darwin took a deep breath and took the initiative this time—he charged straight at Rorschach, his right fist aimed at the other's face.
Rorschach sidestepped, simultaneously delivering a chop to the back of Darwin's neck.
The moment of contact, Darwin's skin instantly became rough like tree bark, withstanding the blow, though he staggered a couple of steps.
"Adapting to physical attacks?" Rorschach raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."
He stopped holding back. His figure blurred, instantly appearing behind Darwin—the explosive power from Super Speed 2. meant most people present couldn't even see his movement clearly.
Darwin just felt a chill on his back. Before he could react, a knee strike slammed into his lower back, sending him flying sideways to land in the sandy ground three meters away.
"Pah! Pah! Pah!" Darwin spat out the sand in his mouth. As he got up, a faint metallic sheen appeared on his skin. "Your speed is just abnormal (insane)!"
Rorschach stood in place, calm and composed. "Your adaptability isn't bad either. Evolving metallic skin that quickly."
Darwin grinned, revealing teeth still flecked with sand. "Of course—again!"
This time, he was smarter. He stopped attacking blindly, instead using his evolved metallic skin to tank hits while looking for counterattack opportunities.
The two exchanged over a dozen rounds. Darwin's ability was indeed astonishing—after taking three punches and two kicks from Rorschach, his skin grew harder and harder, and his reaction speed began to match Rorschach's rhythm.
The watching Mutants were riveted, gasping in surprise from time to time.
"Darwin seems to be getting more and more resistant?" Alex muttered quietly.
"Obviously, that's his ability," Sea Witch Xien chimed in, his tone tinged with envy. "Getting stronger by taking hits. How awesome."
"Why don't you let him punch you a few times and try it?" Angel Salvador rolled her eyes.
"Nah, I make my living with my voice."
On the field, Rorschach also noticed that Darwin's evolution speed was truly remarkable—if left unchecked, in another ten minutes, this kid might actually be able to trade a few blows with him.
But Rorschach's goal today wasn't to be a sparring partner. It was to draw blood.
He suddenly stopped attacking, took two steps back, and revealed a meaningful smile. "That's about enough. Try this."
Before the words finished, his right hand curled loosely, and a blazing white energy ball materialized in his palm—Energy Manipulation 2., fused with Tom's light energy, was a level above simple lasers in power.
The energy ball shot from his hand straight toward Darwin's chest.
Darwin's pupils contracted. Instinctively, he crossed his arms to block—the metallic skin began to crack the moment it made contact with the energy ball. Intense pain forced a grunt from him as he was sent flying back again, slamming hard against the fence at the edge of the training ground.
"Armando!" Charles's expression changed, and he moved to step forward.
Rorschach was faster. In one step, he was beside Darwin, crouching down to check his injuries—his right hand, seemingly unintentionally, pressed against the wound on Darwin's arm, getting a fingertip's worth of blood.
"It's fine, just a flesh wound," Rorschach said, looking up, his tone apologetic. "I didn't hold back enough. My fault."
Darwin sat up, grimacing. Looking at the bloody, mangled wound on his arm, he grinned instead. "That was awesome! For a split second there, I almost evolved an energy shield. I was so close!"
Charles walked over quickly, his psychic energy sweeping over Darwin's entire body. Only after confirming there were no internal injuries did he relax. He looked at Rorschach, his expression now complex. "Your Energy Manipulation... is very strong."
"Not bad." Rorschach stood up, his expression unchanged. "Darwin's ability is truly remarkable. Evolving from being hit—he has a bright future ahead."
Darwin, feeling a bit embarrassed by the praise, scratched his head. "I should thank you for holding back. Otherwise, I'd probably be grilled fish right now."
A wave of good-natured laughter rose around them, completely dissipating the tense atmosphere.
Only Eric remained stone-faced, his gaze shifting back and forth between Rorschach and Darwin as if searching for some flaw.
Rorschach met his gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
—What are you looking at? The blood is already mine.
He turned and walked toward the washbasin. Seemingly casually washing his hands, he used the moment to pull up the system panel.
The blood on his fingertips was absorbed by the system the instant it touched the water, and a prompt sounded in his mind:
[Mutant Armando (Darwin) blood detected. Ability acquired: Adaptive Evolution 1.0. Points +10]
[Adaptive Evolution 1.0 is integrating into Super Defense 2.2...]
[Integration complete. Current Super Defense level: 2.3]
[Host: Rorschach]
[Abilities: Super Speed 2.0, Invisibility 1.0, Super Defense 2.3, Super Strength 2.1, Energy Manipulation 2.0 (Light Energy Fusion), Shapeshifting 2.0 (Raven Fusion), Super Regeneration 2.0, Telepathy 2.0, Mind Control 2.0, Flight 2.0, Laser Eyes 2.0]
[Current total points: 77]
Rorschach turned off the faucet, shook the water droplets from his hands, and the smile on his lips deepened a little more.
Super Defense 2.3 meant ordinary firearms were now completely reduced to toys, and he could even withstand a few hits from standard energy attacks.
Although it couldn't compare to a freakish ability like Shaw's "absorb everything," among these green X-Menrookies, it was more than enough to let him swagger around.
"Rorschach." Charles's voice sounded from behind.
Rorschach turned around, his face already wearing a harmless expression. "What's up? Going to criticize me for being too rough?"
"No." Charles shook his head, his gaze scrutinizing but his tone still gentle. "I just wanted to ask if you'd be interested in formally joining the training program. Your abilities are strong. If you could coordinate with the others, we'd have a better chance against Shaw."
Rorschach raised an eyebrow. "Formally joining? Aren't I already living at the base?"
"I mean, as a member of the X-Men," Charles said, looking at him seriously. "Not as a temporary refuge, but as a true comrade."
At these words, the other Mutants nearby looked over, their expressions varied.
Raven's eyes held anticipation, Eric's held vigilance, Darwin's held excitement, and Alex's held curiosity.
Rorschach was silent for two seconds, then smiled.
"Charles, I appreciate the offer," he said sincerely, his expression genuine. "But I'm used to being free and undisciplined; I can't handle organizational rules. And—"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the others before settling on Charles's face. "Are you sure everyone would welcome me joining?"
The implication was clear. Eric's face darkened, but he didn't voice a rebuttal.
Charles sighed and nodded. "I understand. You need more time. But I hope you'll seriously consider it—we need you. Mutants need unity."
"I'll think about it," Rorschach replied perfunctorily before turning and heading toward the barracks.
Passing by Raven, he stopped, leaned close to her ear, and lowered his voice. "Same place tonight. I'll show you just how 'capable' I am."
Raven's face flushed red. She raised a hand to hit him but swiped at empty air—Rorschach had already walked away laughing.
Eric watched this scene, his fists clenched so tight they cracked, but he could only force himself to hold back.
Charles patted his shoulder. "Don't rush. Take it slow."
"Take it slow?" Eric sneered. "Wait until he's won everyone over, and then we'll take it slow?"
Charles didn't answer, just looked in the direction Rorschach had disappeared, his eyes deep and thoughtful.
Just how many secrets was this man hiding?
Night fell as scheduled.
After lights-out at the base, Raven quietly slipped out of the barracks and made her way to a corner by the training field—a row of abandoned storage rooms. Rorschach had somehow pried one open and turned it into a temporary hideout.
Pushing the door open, she saw a single candle lit inside. In the dim, yellowish glow, Rorschach was leaning against the wall, flipping through something—it was actually *The Art of War*, which he'd swiped from the base library.
"You... you're reading this?" Raven was taken aback.
Rorschach closed the book and tossed it aside. "Just browsing. Getting to know the wisdom of this era."
Raven walked over and sat down beside him. After hesitating, she asked, "You did it on purpose today, didn't you?"
"Did what on purpose?"
"Hurting Darwin." Raven stared into his eyes. "With your control, you could have kept the energy orb at a'scare' level, but you chose to 'injure' him."
Rorschach was silent for two seconds, then suddenly smiled. "You know me that well?"
Raven didn't speak, just kept looking at him.
Rorschach reached out, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and pulled her into his embrace, resting his chin on top of her head. "I admit, I did it on purpose. I wanted to see the limits of his adaptation—that kid has astonishing potential. He might come in very handy later."
"That's all?" Raven looked up at him, suspicion still in her eyes.
"That's all." Rorschach lowered his head and planted a kiss on her forehead, his tone deceptively tender. "What else could it be? I'm not a freak who enjoys seeing people get hurt."
The kiss left Raven flustered, and she forgot most of what she had intended to press further, only muttering, "It better be..."
A flicker of amusement passed through Rorschach's eyes.
—Of course that wasn't all. But some things were better known by fewer people.
He lowered his head and captured Raven's lips with his own, cutting off any further explanation.
The candlelight flickered, and two shadows gradually merged into one.
The night wind crept through the door crack, making the candle flame dance unsteadily, but it couldn't dispel the ambiguous atmosphere filling the small room.
Early the next morning, Rorschach walked out of the storage room, refreshed and in high spirits, only to run straight into Eric, whose face was like thunder.
"Morning." Rorschach, in a good mood, took the initiative to greet him.
Eric stared at him for three seconds before squeezing out two words through gritted teeth: "Mor...ning."
Then he turned and walked away, his Back view radiating a keep-away chill.
Rorschach shrugged, unfazed.
Charles appeared beside him at some point, his tone resigned. "Could you... maybe tone it down a little?"
"Tone what down?" Rorschach looked innocent. "Ravenand I are in a normal relationship. It's mutual; I'm not forcing anyone."
Charles was momentarily speechless. Wanting to refutebut finding no grounds, he could only sigh. "Eric has feelings for Raven..."
"That's his business, not mine," Rorschach interrupted, his tone cooling. "Charles, you're a good person, always trying to accommodate everyone's feelings. But you can't force matters of the heart. Raven is an adult. She knows what she's doing."
Charles fell silent.
Rorschach patted his shoulder and walked toward the training field. "Alright, don't overthink it. What's the plan for today? Want me to spar with Darwin again?"
"No," Charles said, catching up. "Today we're discussing intel on Shaw. You should come listen too."
Rorschach's steps halted for a moment, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.
Sebastian Shaw—the Hellfire Club, energy absorption, the White Queen Emma.
Finally getting to the main event.
He nodded, his tone as casual as ever. "Sure, can't hurt to listen."
Morning light spilled over the base. A new day had just begun.
In the distance, Darwin was stretching, the wound on his arm already scabbed over—his healing wasn't bad. A man who could evolve, indeed.
Alex and Sea Witch Xien were discussing yesterday's sparring match, occasionally glancing at Rorschach with a bit more awe in their eyes.
Angel Salvador circled in the air overhead, her feathers shimmering with Seven Colors light under the sun.
Everything seemed peaceful.
But Rorschach knew that beneath the calm surface, undercurrents were already stirring.
The grudges between Shaw, the CIA, the military, and the Mutants—all of it would become the stage for him to harvest superpowers.
Chapter 64: Eyewitness, Traces of Hellfire
Morning light pierced through the thin mist; as soon as Rorschach stepped out of the storage room, Tom scurried up to him.
"Mr. Rorschach!" He spread his palms, and a ball of light condensed into the shape of a fledgling, fluttering twice before dissipating. "I've mastered it!"
Rorschach glanced at him.
Going from "setting off fireworks" to "sculpting clay" overnight, his talent was indeed impressive.
"Not bad." He patted Tom's shoulder. "Keep it up."
Tom leaned forward cautiously, then pressed his mouth close to Rorschach's ear and whispered in an extremely low, mysterious tone: "Last night... I saw that guy Ericsneaking around outside! His eyes were fixed on your room, as if he had some ulterior motive."
The corners of Rorschach's lips curled slightly.
The future Magneto personally keeping watch? Quite an honor.
"I know."
Tom grinned and tactfully slipped away.
Everyone was gathered in the meeting room.
CIA agent Moira posted several photos: "Sebastian Shaw, suspected Mutant, capable of withstanding rocket fire."
"White Queen Emma Frost, suspected Telepathy. Riptidecreates tornadoes, and Red Devil teleports."
The sound of people gasping for breath rang out.
Darwin touched his scabbed wound with a complex expression. Alex whispered, "This isn't fair..."
Eric spoke coldly, "If you're afraid, don't go."
The air was thick with tension.
Rorschach leaned back in his chair, watching lazily.
A bunch of rookies who don't yet understand what Energy Absorption means—when Shaw starts treating your attacks like a meal, you'll know the meaning of despair.
Charles tried to smooth things over: "We need to be prepared. Shaw's goal is to ignite a nuclear war and let Mutants rule the world."
Rorschach thought to himself: Wrong. Shaw wants to be king, but in the end, Eric will snap his neck.
Of course, he couldn't say that now.
After the meeting, Raven approached him with a playful look in her eyes: "That kid Tom, why does he listen to you so much?"
Rorschach wrapped his arm around her waist and chuckled softly, "Charisma."
"Give me a break." Raven rolled her eyes but didn't pull away. "Eric has his eye on you, and Charles is wondering about you too.
In this base, not everyone trusts you."
"So, do you?"
Raven's ears turned slightly red, but her tongue remained sharp: "I don't believe you for a second."
Rorschach laughed and leaned into her ear: "Tonight at the usual place, I'll let you see my 'ghost'."
Raven raised her hand to punch him but hit empty air—Rorschach had already walked away laughing.
Not far away, Eric passed by with a tray, the metal fork in his hand bent at a ninety-degree angle.
In the afternoon, Rorschach leaned against a shady spot by the training ground, seemingly dozing off, but in reality, his mental power quietly covered the entire field.
Tom was training with great fervor, light balls flying between his palms. Darwin was enduring Banshee's sonic waves, his skin taking on a metallic sheen.
Charles was taking notes, and Hank was fiddling with equipment.
Everything was normal.
What wasn't normal was Moira's room—she was on the phone, mentioning 'questionable identity'.
Rorschach opened his eyes, his gaze turning slightly cold.
Let them investigate. Once the Cuban missiles are ready, who will have time to check on him?
At dusk, Tom slipped over again: "Mr. Rorschach, Eric and Charles had an argument about training methods. Also, Moira is investigating you."
Rorschach nodded. "Good job."
Tom left happily after receiving the praise.
Night fell, and the base grew quiet.
Rorschach lay on his bed, eyes closed in a light sleep.
Next door, Raven tossed and turned, muttering, 'Rorschach, you bastard.'
German sleep-talking came from Eric's room. The light in Moira's room stayed on until late.
Outside the window, the moonlight was like water.
The night in 1962 was as quiet as the final second before a storm.
Rorschach rolled over, the corners of his mouth curling up.
The chess pieces were set; all that remained was for the wind to rise.
Chapter 65: The Black King's Trump Card
The intelligence arrived faster than expected.
Rorschach had just sat down by the training field when Moira MacTaggert pushed the door open. Dressed in a crisp military uniform and clutching a stack of documents, her expression was gloomier than the dark clouds outside the window.
Charles stood up. "Any news?"
Moira nodded, scanning everyone present. Raven leaned against the railing, Eric stood in a corner with his arms crossed, Darwin rubbed his scabbing wounds, Banshee and Alex huddled together, and Angel hovered in mid-air, her wings fluttering and shedding a few glowing feathers.
"Everyone, come over," Charles beckoned. "Moira has brought important intelligence."
The group gathered around. Moira slapped the documents onto the table and pulled out several photos, pinning them to the bulletin board.
The first photo was of a middle-aged man in a sharp suit with a polite smile, but eyes like a venomous snake.
"Sebastian Shaw," Moira pointed at the photo. "The leader of the Hellfire Club, codenamed the Black King."
Rorschach narrowed his eyes.
He's finally here.
"His ability?" Eric's voice was low, but everyone could hear the hatred seeping from his very bones.
Moira paused. "Not certain. But witnesses claim he once took a direct hit from a rocket and remained unscathed."
"Others say that the harder he is hit, the stronger his counterattack becomes."
The sound of collective gasps filled the room.
Darwin subconsciously touched his newly scabbed wound, his expression complicated.
Alex whispered, "How do we even fight that..."
Rorschach leaned back in his chair and spoke lazily, "Energy Absorption."
Every gaze snapped toward him.
Charles raised an eyebrow. "You know?"
"Just a guess," Rorschach shrugged. "Being able to tank a rocket isn't just about being thick-skinned—there's only one possibility: he eats the energy of the attack and converts it into his own."
Eric stared at him with sharp eyes. "How can you be sure?"
Rorschach met his gaze and smiled. "If I'm wrong, I'll buy you a drink."
The atmosphere stagnated slightly.
Moira cleared her throat and pinned up a second photo—a blonde woman, cold and elegant like an ice sculpture, with a look of condescending arrogance in her eyes.
"White Queen Emma Frost."
"Suspected Telepathy, and..." Moira paused. "It's said she can turn herself into diamond."
Raven whistled. "Diamond? Imagine how much that's worth."
"It's not just about value," Charles said solemnly. "If she can truly diamondize, it means physical attacks are useless—at least ordinary ones."
Rorschach glanced at the photo and silently added in his mind: 'And she has no emotions after transforming, so Telepathy won't work on her either.'
But he couldn't say that right now.
Moira continued pinning photos—the third was a man with red skin and a pointed tail, looking like a demon crawled out of hell.
"Red Devil Azazel. Capable of Teleportation. According to CIA intel, his method of killing is taking people high into the air and then letting go."
The expressions of everyone present shifted.
Teleportation combined with falling from a great height—the combination made their backs turn cold.
The last photo was of a young man with an ordinary face, standing in the center of a tornado.
"Riptide. Can create whirlwinds, tornadoes, and even..." Moira flipped a page, "combine them with water to form water spouts."
The four photos were pinned side-by-side on the board like four wanted posters.
The meeting room fell silent for a few seconds.
Alex asked softly, "Just these four? Nothing else?"
"These are all that are known for now," Moira closed the folder. "But the Hellfire Club isn't just these few people."
"Their core members are named after chess pieces—Shaw is the King, the White Queen is the Queen, and the rest include Rooks, Knights, and Bishops. These are just the ones who have surfaced."
Charles stood up, his gaze scanning the group. "What do you all think?"
Eric was the first to speak. "What do I think? We fight."
"Fight how?" Raven rolled her eyes. "We just found out about their four abilities, and you want to rush in and die?"
"And you'd rather hide?" Eric retorted coldly.
The smell of gunpowder instantly flared up.
Charles raised his hand to calm them. "Don't argue. We need more intelligence, and we need training."
He looked at Moira. "Does the CIA have any other leads?"
Moira shook her head. "That's all for now. But Shaw's goal is already clear—he's using the Cuban Missile Crisis to provoke a war between the US and the Soviet Union. Once a nuclear war breaks out..."
"Mutants will rise," Eric finished the sentence. "Radiation will cause more people to awaken the Mutant gene. By then, humans will either be dead or ruled."
The words were blunt, but no one refuted them.
Rorschach leaned back, scanning the four photos on the wall, calculating silently in his mind.
Shaw's Energy Absorption—starting at Level 2, worth at least +10.
White Queen—diamond form plus Telepathy, starting at +20.
Red Devil—Space Jump, +10.
Riptide—Storm Manipulation, +10.
Adding it up, just these four from Hellfire were worth over four thousand points.
Plus the chance to fish in troubled waters during the final battle...
The corners of his lips curled slightly.
This trip would yield quite a profit.
"Rorschach?" Charles's voice interrupted his thoughts. "What do you think?"
Rorschach snapped back to reality, his expression unchanged. "I think we shouldn't be in a hurry to fight."
"The intel isn't enough, and we aren't familiar with their abilities. Rushing in blindly is just throwing away lives."
Eric sneered. "Then you tell me, when will it be enough?"
Rorschach met his gaze and smiled. "When they reveal their own weaknesses."
The statement was ambiguous. Eric frowned but couldn't find a point to argue against.
Charles nodded. "That makes sense. Moira, keep monitoring Shaw's movements. On our end, we'll step up training and be ready at any moment."
Moira acknowledged and packed up the documents.
The meeting adjourned.
Just as Rorschach stepped out of the meeting room, Ravencaught up and took his arm. "What you said about 'waiting for them to reveal a weakness'—was that the truth or a lie?"
Rorschach looked down at her and smiled. "What do you think?"
"I think you're up to something," Raven narrowed her eyes. "But I won't ask."
"So sensible?"
"Is there a reward for being sensible?"
Rorschach leaned into her ear and lowered his voice, "Tonight at the usual place, I'll reward you."
Raven's ears turned slightly red. She punched him lightly but ran off laughing.
Rorschach stood there, watching her blue figure disappear around the corner.
Then he turned his head, his gaze falling on the four photos on the board.
Sebastian Shaw.
Emma Frost.
Azazel.
Riptide.
The corners of his lips curled into a playful arc.
The names were remembered. The abilities were noted.
All that was left was to wait.
Wait for that missile to launch over the Cuban waters, wait for the beach to turn into a chaotic mess—
Wait for him to snatch the chestnuts from the fire.
In the evening, Rorschach leaned against the wall of the storage room, closing his eyes to doze.
His mental power spread out quietly, covering the entire base.
In Charles's room, the sound of pages turning rustled.
In Eric's room, metal objects vibrated slightly—he was practicing control, but his emotions were unstable.
In Moira's room, she was on the phone, her voice kept very low. Words like'Shaw,' 'Cuba,' and 'intelligence' could be vaguely heard.
Rorschach withdrew his mental power and opened his eyes.
Moira was urgently investigating. Charles was preparing for training. Eric was accumulating hatred.
Everyone was following the script.
And he only needed to give a gentle push at the right time.
Chapter 66: Hellfire's Archives
After Moira pinned the last photograph, the meeting room fell so quiet that the sound of the wind outside the window could be heard.
Charles stood up, walked over to the board, and pointed at the first photo—the man in a suit and tie, with a smile like a viper.
"Sebastian Shaw," he said, his tone heavy as if reading an obituary. "The Black King of the Hellfire Club, or rather, the core of the entire organization."
Rorschach leaned back in his chair, shifting into a more comfortable position.
Here it comes, the villain lecture is about to begin.
Charles continued, "Shaw's ability, as Moira just mentioned—energy absorption."
"But it's more than that," he paused. "He can convert the absorbed energy into his own strength, speed, healing ability, and even use it to slow aging."
Darwin touched his freshly scabbed wound and muttered softly, "Isn't that more useful than my evolution?"
"It's different," Charles shook his head. "Your evolution actively adapts to the environment; his is a passive absorption of attacks."
"But there's something even more dangerous—"
He looked at everyone and said, word by word, "Physical attacks are basically ineffective against him. The harder you hit him, the stronger he becomes."
Raven whistled. "So we have to settle it with rock-paper-scissors?"
Eric gave her a cold glance but didn't speak, though the impatience in his eyes was almost overflowing.
Charles pointed to the second photo—the blonde woman, cold and elegant as an ice sculpture, with an air of condescending arrogance in her eyes.
"Emma Frost, the White Queen," he said, his tone complex. "She has two abilities: Telepathy, and—"
"Diamond Form," Hank interjected, his eyes gleaming. "According to CIA intelligence, she can instantly transform all her cells into an organic diamond structure. Theoretically, in this state, her physical defense reaches its peak, and..."
"And she feels no emotions, making Telepathy useless against her," Rorschach said lazily.
Everyone's gaze instantly snapped toward him.
Charles raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"
Rorschach shrugged, smiling innocently. "Just a guess. Diamonds are carbon, and emotional fluctuations in carbon-based life forms rely on neural transmission. If her entire body turns into a crystalline structure, neural conduction is basically disabled. No emotions, where would Telepathy find a foothold?"
There was silence for two seconds.
Hank's eyes widened behind his glasses. "That deduction... makes perfect sense!"
Rorschach thought to himself: Of course, I've seen the script.
Charles gave him a thoughtful look but didn't press further. He continued, pointing to the third photo—red skin, a pointed tail, like a devil freshly crawled out of hell.
"Azazel, codename Red Devil," he paused. "His ability is Teleportation. According to current intelligence, his range is unknown, his precision is unknown. The only eyewitness record is—"
"He takes people high into the air and then lets go," Moirainterjected, her expression grim. "Three CIA agents disappeared just like that."
Alex swallowed hard. "How do we fight something like that?"
"I don't know," Charles admitted frankly. "So we need to understand him first."
The last photo was of a young man with an ordinary appearance, standing in the center of a tornado.
"Riptide," Charles said. "He can create whirlwinds and tornadoes, with estimated maximum wind speeds exceeding three hundred kilometers per hour."
"Combined with water, he can form water pillars; combined with fire, he can create fire tornadoes."
"A weather weapon," Eric finally spoke, his voice low. "The military has researched this but never succeeded. He can do it alone?"
"Alone," Moira confirmed.
The four photos were pinned side by side on the blackboard, like four wanted posters.
The meeting room fell silent for a few seconds.
"Rorschach?" Charles's voice interrupted his thoughts. "What are you thinking?"
Rorschach snapped back to reality, his expression unchanged. "Thinking about how to fight them."
"Any conclusions?"
"Yes," he stood up, walked to the board, and pointed at Shaw's photo. "Energy absorption has an upper limit."
Everyone was taken aback.
Charles's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?"
Rorschach thought to himself: Of course, in the movie, the two of you teamed up and blasted him apart. But I can't say that now.
He spread his hands. "Not sure, just a guess. But every ability has its limits. We don't know his limit, but he definitely does. So—"
He paused, sweeping his gaze over everyone. "When we really fight, don't hold back, don't test the waters. Hit him with everything from the start. Push his absorption to the brink until it bursts, and he's done."
Eric stared at him, the wariness in his eyes fading slightly, replaced by a hint of... approval?
Raven whispered beside him, "Didn't you just say we should wait?"
"Waiting for an opportunity and waiting to die are two different things," Rorschach patted her shoulder, smiling carelessly. "If there's a chance, wait. If not, charge in recklessly."
Charles cleared his throat lightly. "Let's... discuss this later. Moira, is there any other information?"
Moira flipped through her folder. "Do you need to know the background of the Hellfire Club?"
"Go ahead," Charles nodded.
"This organization was originally established in Britain in the 18th century," Moira turned a page. "Founded by Sir Francis Dashwood, its members were mainly nobles, merchants, and politicians. On the surface, it was a social club, but in reality... they engaged in shady activities."
Raven raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"Like recreational activities that challenged the moral norms of the time," Moira said euphemistically, but her eyes said it all.
Darwin scratched his head. "So it's just a bunch of rich people gathering to stir up trouble?"
"More than that," Moira shook her head. "In the 1880s, some members moved to New York and established the American branch. The headquarters is on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, close to many important institutions."
"Membership is hereditary, and you can only join by invitation. Those invited—are all well-known wealthy individuals."
Alex whispered, "So, did they join?"
"Some did," Moira closed the folder. "But the core group has always been controlled by Mutants. After Shaw took control of the club, he named the core members after chess pieces—he's the Black King, the White Queen is the Queen, and the rest include Rooks, Knights, and Bishops."
"Their goal?"
"Mutant domination of the world," Moira looked at Charles. "At least, that's Shaw's goal. He experienced World War II, lost all faith in humanity, and believes humans are merely'second-class citizens' on Earth."
Charles fell silent.
Eric sneered. "Losing faith in humanity—that sounds familiar."
The atmosphere grew tense.
Rorschach leaned against the window, his gaze sweeping over Eric's face.
That statement—reeks of resentment.
Charles sighed. "Eric, I understand how you feel, but now—"
"Now is not the time to discuss this," Erik interrupted him, standing up. "Shaw wants to provoke a nuclear war, and we need to stop him. It's that simple. As for the future—"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone before finally settling on Charles's face. "We'll deal with the future when it comes."
With that, he turned and left the meeting room, his back radiating an icy aloofness.
Silence lingered for a few seconds.
Raven whispered, "Is he... angry?"
"He's always like that," Charles smiled bitterly, rubbing his temples. "Meeting adjourned. Everyone, digest this information. We start targeted training tomorrow."
Everyone gradually left.
As Rorschach reached the door, Charles called out to him, "Rorschach, wait a moment."
Rorschach turned around. "What? Giving me extra lessons?"
Charles ignored the quip, took a few steps closer, and lowered his voice. "What you said about energy absorption having an upper limit—was that really just a guess?"
Rorschach met his gaze, his smile unchanged. "Do you want the truth or a lie?"
"The truth."
"The truth is—" Rorschach leaned in a little closer, his voice even lower. "My system told me."
Charles was taken aback.
Rorschach patted his shoulder and walked out, smiling.
Leaving Charles standing there, frowning deeply.
System? What system?
Outside the door, Raven leaned against the wall. Seeing him come out, she approached and linked her arm with his. "What were you whispering about with Charles?"
Rorschach looked down at her and grinned. "Discussing where to go on a date tonight."
Raven rolled her eyes. "Cut it out."
"It's the truth."
"Then let me ask you—" Raven narrowed her eyes. "Back in the meeting room, when you were looking at those four photos, you were smiling like you'd found a wallet. What did you find?"
Rorschach raised an eyebrow.
This girl's observational skills are pretty sharp.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear, "Found a big bargain. Meet me at the usual spot tonight, and I'll tell you slowly."
Raven's ears turned slightly red. She raised a hand to hit him but then laughed and ran off.
Rorschach stood there, watching her blue figure disappear around the corner.
Then he turned and looked in the direction of the meeting room.
Shaw, White Queen, Red Devil, Riptide.
Names memorized, abilities memorized.
All that's left is to wait.
Wait for that missile to launch over Cuban waters.
Wait for the beach to descend into chaos.
Wait for him—to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
Chapter 67: The Strange Hobbies of Those Rich People
Moira put up the last photo, and the conference room became so quiet that the sound of the wind outside the window could be heard.
Charles stood up, walked to the whiteboard, and swept his gaze over those four faces—Xiao in his suit and tie, the Ice Queen with her frosty demeanor, Azazel whose red skin made him look like he crawled out of hell, and Riptidestanding at the center of a tornado. The four photos were posted side by side, like four wanted posters, or like the cover of a villain special issue from some fashion magazine.
"You already know about these four individuals' abilities," Charles paused, "but today we're talking about more than just abilities—we're talking about the organization behind them."
Rorschach leaned back in his chair, shifting into a more comfortable position.
Here we go, the cradle of pretentiousness, the evergreen ivy of the villain world. The origin story of the Hellfire Clubis about to begin.
Moira opened a folder and cleared her throat: "The Hellfire Club was originally established in 18th century England."
Raven whistled: "The 18th century? They must have worn those puffy dresses and white wigs, right? The mental image is too beautiful, I dare not think about it."
"Pretty much," Moira glanced at her, "Founded by Sir Francis Dashwood, its members were mainly nobles, merchants, and politicians. On the surface, it was a social club, but in reality—"
"—recreational entertainment that challenged the moral concepts of the time," Charles took over, his tone subtle.
Darwin scratched his head: "What do you mean by 'challenging moral concepts'?"
Alex elbowed him: "It means rich people getting together to do shady things, got it?"
Darwin had a sudden realization and scratched his head again: "So it's just a club for rich people's strange fetishes?"
Rorschach almost laughed out loud.
This kid's summary is pretty spot-on.
Moira gave a light cough and continued: "In the 1880s, some members moved to New York and established an American branch. The headquarters is on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, very close to many important institutions."
Hank pushed up his glasses: "Fifth Avenue? That's prime real estate."
"It's more than just a location issue," Moira turned a page, "Membership is hereditary; you can only join by invitation. Those invited—"
She paused and looked at everyone: "—Howard Stark, Iron Man's father; Warren Worthington II, X-Men Angel's father; and several other well-known wealthy individuals have all received invitations."
Two seconds of silence.
Angel Salvador was taken aback: "My dad?"
"Your dad," Moira nodded.
Angel opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but finally managed: "He never told me..."
"Because he didn't join," Moira closed the folder, "At least according to current intelligence, he refused. But some people did join."
Eric sneered: "A bunch of rich people getting together, what do they want to do? Buy the whole world?"
"Pretty much," Charles took over, his expression grave, "But the Hellfire Club's goal is more extreme than simply controlling the world."
He walked to the whiteboard and pointed at Shaw's photo: "After Shaw took control of the club, he named the core members after chess pieces—he is the Black King, the White Queen is the Queen, and the rest are the Rook, Knight, and Bishop."
Alex asked quietly: "Why use chess? Couldn't they use playing cards? The Ace of Spades is way more domineering."
No one paid him any attention.
Charles continued: "The core group controls the entire club, silently influencing global politics, economy, and military affairs. On the surface, they're just a social circle for the rich, but in reality—"
"—in reality, they want to stir up trouble," Rorschachchimed in lazily, "And they're aiming for big trouble."
Charles looked at him and nodded: "Right. Shaw's goal is to provoke a nuclear war, allowing Mutants to rule the world."
Darwin swallowed: "Just with these four?"
"Not just four," Moira shook her head, "These are just the core members who have surfaced. The Hellfire Club's scale far exceeds your imagination; there are branches all over the world, with members spread across political, business, and military circles."
She flipped through the file: "Shaw experienced WWII and was completely disillusioned with humanity. He believes humans are just'second-class citizens' on Earth, and Mutants are the direction of evolution."
The conference room was quiet for a few seconds.
Eric sneered: "Disillusioned with humanity... that sounds familiar."
The atmosphere froze slightly.
Charles sighed: "Erik..."
"Don't try to persuade me," Erik interrupted him, stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to everyone, "Shaw is right, humans are indeed disappointing. The only difference is—he wants to destroy humanity, I just want Mutants not to be bullied."
Rorschach looked at his back and silently complained in his heart: Brother, the state you're in right now, does it have anything to do with the phrase 'not being bullied'? This is clearly a 'want to take on the whole world' look.
Charles rubbed his temples and turned to Moira: "Any other intelligence?"
Moira nodded: "CIA has supplementary information on the backgrounds of the White Queen and the Red Devil."
Everyone's focus returned.
"Emma Frost, codename White Queen," Moira pulled out another photo—a blonde woman as cold and beautiful as an ice sculpture, with an arrogant, condescending look in her eyes, "Born into a middle-class family in Boston, her father was a businessman, her mother was addicted to drugs. She had telepathic abilities from a young age, but due to her family environment, her personality... is complicated."
Raven raised an eyebrow: "Complicated? What does that mean?"
"It means she wasn't born a bad person," Charles took over, "She went through a lot and chose a path. Just like each of us."
Rorschach thought to himself: Great, Professor X is starting to make excuses for villains again. This saintly halo is so bright it could whitewash the White Queen by thirty percent.
Moira continued: "She was later invited to join the Hellfire Club and, working with Shaw, took control of the core group.
Besides Telepathy, she can also transform her body into a diamond form—in this state, her physical defense is extremely strong, she has no emotions, and Telepathy is ineffective against her."
Hank's eyes behind his glasses lit up: "Diamond form? Theoretically, that's an allotrope of the element carbon, with a hardness of 10 on the Mohs scale..."
"Hank," Charles interrupted him, "Now is not the time for a science lesson."
Hank sheepishly shut up.
Moira turned to the next page: "Azazel, codename Red Devil. There's very little information on this person. It's said he has lived for over a thousand years and calls himself the'Son of the Demon'."
Darwin's eyes widened: "Over a thousand years?"
"Yes," Moira nodded, "He once led a Mutant race called the Neyaphem, fought against another faction of Mutants, and after being defeated, his entire race was sealed in another dimension. Only he escaped."
Alex asked quietly: "So he joined the Hellfire to..."
"...open that dimension and rescue his people," Charlessaid gravely.
Rorschach narrowed his eyes.
This piece of information is interesting—Red Devil has a clan background; he's not just a mere thug.
Might be able to use that in the future.
Moira closed the folder: "There's the least information on Riptide. We only know he can create storm tornadoes; everything else is blank. CIA suspects Shaw recruited him from somewhere, but there are no background records."
The four photos were posted side by side on the whiteboard, like four wanted posters, or like four puzzles.
The conference room was quiet for a few seconds.
Raven suddenly spoke: "This club... does it still exist now?"
"Yes," Charles nodded, "And it's very active. After Shaw took control of the core group, he's been secretly making moves. The Cuban Missile Crisis was his doing—he wanted the US and USSR to go to war, to let nuclear radiation create more Mutants."
Eric turned around, his eyes sharp: "Then we fight. Rip their heads off and see how they keep making moves."
"Eric," Charles said helplessly, "Not all problems can be solved with violence."
"Then tell me, what do we use to solve it?" Erik sneered, "Your 'peaceful coexistence' theory? Get Shaw to sit down and have tea and chat with us?"
The smell of gunpowder instantly filled the air.
Rorschach leaned back in his chair, thoroughly enjoying the show.
These two arguing is more entertaining than a talk show.
An idealistic saint and a vengeful tough guy, together they could argue until the end of the world.
Charles took a deep breath, suppressing his emotions: "I'm saying we need more intelligence, we need a plan, we need—"
"—time," Eric interrupted, "And then Shaw has more time to make moves, more time to kill people. I've seen too much of this 'need time' in the concentration camps."
Silence.
The atmosphere became heavy as if filled with lead.
Raven looked at Charles, then at Eric, wanting to say something but not knowing where to start.
Darwin and Alex exchanged a glance and tacit agreemently shrank back.
Angel hovered in mid-air, forgetting to flap his wings.
Rorschach sighed and stood up.
"Alright," he clapped his hands, breaking the silence, "If you keep arguing, Shaw's missiles will have already flown to Cuba before you even decide what to have for lunch."
Eric gave him a cold glance: "Do you have any brilliant suggestions?"
Rorschach spread his hands: "No brilliant suggestions, just a bit of common sense. Shaw wants to cause trouble, we want to stop him, that's the consensus. The disagreement is on how to stop him—Charles wants to use his brain, you want to use your fists."
He walked between the two of them, looking left and right: "But have you ever thought that brain plus fists might work even better?"
Charles raised an eyebrow: "You mean..."
"I mean—" Rorschach smiled, "You're in charge of thinking, he's in charge of fighting, and I'm in charge of cheering '666' from the sidelines. Division of labor, each playing to their strengths, sounds good."
Eric frowned: "Are you joking?"
"Half and half," Rorschach shrugged, "But at least don't argue in the conference room. Shaw can't hear you, you're just wasting your energy."
A few seconds of silence.
Charles suddenly laughed and shook his head: "You're right, I really shouldn't be arguing here."
He looked at Erik: "Erik, I understand your anger. But I hope you understand—I'm not trying to stop you from getting revenge, I just want you to be alive to get that revenge."
Eric stared at him for a few seconds, the coldness in his eyes fading a bit, and finally turned his head away: "Whatever you say."
The atmosphere eased somewhat.
Raven quietly moved closer to Rorschach and whispered: "You're pretty good at breaking up arguments."
Rorschach looked down at her and grinned carelessly: "I'm just afraid they'll tear the house down and we'll have nowhere to sleep tonight."
Raven rolled her eyes at him but couldn't help laughing.
Moira gave a light cough and put away the files: "That's all the intelligence. Charles, what's the next step?"
Charles thought for a moment: "Keep monitoring Shaw's movements. On our end, we intensify training and be ready at all times."
He looked at everyone: "That's all for today. Everyone, go back and digest this information. Targeted training starts tomorrow."
Everyone gradually left.
Rorschach had just reached the door when Charles called out to him: "Rorschach, wait a moment."
Rorschach turned around: "What? Want to give me a 'Best Mediator' certificate?"
Charles didn't take the bait. He walked closer and lowered his voice: "What you said earlier about 'brain plus fists'... were you serious?"
Rorschach raised an eyebrow: "What do you think?"
"I think—" Charles stared into his eyes, "—you have other plans in mind."
Rorschach smiled.
This bald guy really isn't stupid.
"Charles," he patted the other's shoulder, "My plan is simple: keep everyone alive, let Shaw die. As for whether we use brains or fists, I'm not picky."
After saying that, he turned and walked out of the conference room.
Outside, Raven was leaning against the wall waiting for him. When he came out, she came over and linked her arm with his: "What were you whispering about with Charles?"
Rorschach looked down at her and smiled: "Telling him his hairstyle looked good today."
Raven rolled her eyes: "Does Charles have hair?"
"That's why I said his hairstyle is good—his bald head is so neatly shaved."
Raven couldn't help but laugh and punched his arm: "That mouth of yours will get torn off by someone sooner or later."
"Then you'll have to protect me," Rorschach put his arm around her waist and leaned close to her ear, "After all, this mouth has other uses."
Raven's ears turned slightly red. She glared at him but didn't pull away.
The two walked away, chatting and laughing.
At the end of the corridor, Eric stood there, watching their backs with a complex look in his eyes.
Charles walked to his side, followed his gaze, and sighed softly: "Erik, some things can't be forced."
Eric was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly asked: "Do you trust him?"
Charles didn't answer immediately.
He looked in the direction where Rorschach had disappeared, his gaze profound.
"I trust that he doesn't want Shaw to stay alive," he said slowly, "As for the rest—" he paused, "—time will give us the answer."
Outside the window, the sun was setting in the west.
The twilight of 1962 was as quiet as if nothing had happened.
But everyone knew—the storm was almost here.