Although it was her first time in the South Side and Ginny had no idea where the address from the radio was, the moment she heard it was a child abduction case, her expression immediately tensed.
In this country, whatever things might look like in the shadows, at least on the surface, child safety was the top priority for every law enforcement agency.
She was just about to grab the radio to respond, but another hand was faster and snatched up the car phone.
"Dispatch, 7-C-15 en route to the scene."
The next second, a powerful surge pinned her back against the seat; Ginny, who had not yet sat firmly, was instantly pressed flat against the backrest.
When she turned her head, the laziness and nonchalance on Rorschach's face had vanished without a trace, replaced by a focus and coldness she had never seen before.
The squad car roared past a hundred miles an hour in no time. The wail of the siren pierced the streets, and anyone who saw it would know something serious had happened.
Before long, with Rorschach's aggressive driving, the cruiser crossed several blocks and finally arrived at the address from the radio—a somewhat run-down two-story wooden house.
The yard was piled high with all sorts of junk and garbage. As soon as she opened the door, Ginny caught a whiff of a foul stench.
"Did I tell you to get out?"
Rorschach pressed the rookie's head and shoved her back into the car, then pointed at her and instructed, "Lose that toy gun and switch to your real one."
Ginny's face tightened, then she nodded excitedly and repeatedly. "Got it. Don't worry, Rorschach, I'll definitely back you up!"
"Save it, rookie. You're staying in the car and watching your own back."
"Huh?"
Ginny wanted to fight for a chance to confront the suspects, but Rorschach had already waved her off and walked alone into the yard ahead.
Stepping over all kinds of trash on the ground, Rorschach reached the closed door, knocked twice, and called out in a deep voice, "CPD, we received a call reporting that you—"
"Get out, fcking cop! If you come in, I'll blow your fcking head off!"
Before he could finish, a stream of rap-like curses blasted from behind the door.
A woman—no surprise, likely an overweight Black woman—was standing behind it, screaming abuse at him.
Rorschach's expression did not change as he continued, "Ma'am, this is your final warning. An anonymous call has accused you of involvement in a child abduction. Put down your weapon and step outside to cooperate with our investigation."
"Shut up, pig! Get out of my house!" There was no hint of compromise in the voice behind the door.
"OK."
Rorschach nodded, said nothing more, turned back to the squad car, popped the trunk, and pulled out a police-issue Remington M870.
He gripped the fore-end with his left hand, snapped his wrist, and gave it a hard pump; the shell chambered instantly.
Glancing at the wide-eyed Ginny, Rorschach jerked his chin. "Lesson two for a good cop: when you need to breach, use a shotgun. Got that?"
This time, Ginny could not hold back and blurted out, "We don't have a warrant, we can't—"
"Lesson three for a good cop: learn to improvise."
Rorschach waved her off and ignored the rookie's objections. He walked up to the door, raised the shotgun, and blasted twice at the lock.
One shot for the latch, one for the chain.
The shut door blew open and slammed back against the wall.
In Ginny's line of sight, Rorschach, shotgun in both hands, spun and slipped into the house in one smooth motion, disappearing from view.
"Bang, bang, bang—!"
The next second, a flurry of gunshots erupted inside.
They were from a handgun.
At the same time, another heavy shotgun blast sounded, followed by a man's scream of pain and the wailing of a child.
Ginny's heart clenched. She quickly drew her sidearm and yanked the door open, ready to rush in and help Rorschach—then abruptly froze.
Up ahead, Rorschach was already walking out of the house, expressionless.
He still held the Remington in his right hand. In his left arm was a girl of about six or seven, her arms locked tightly around his neck as she sobbed in fear.
"R-Rorschach? Are you okay?" After a brief daze, Ginny hurried forward to meet him.
"Call it in and request an ambulance. The child has been rescued. There are two suspects, a Black couple. The husband tried to attack me with a handgun—I shot and broke one of his arms. Both of them are high, very unstable," Rorschach said calmly, his face as cold as ever.
Ginny no longer cared about his attitude. Once she confirmed Rorschach was not injured, she rushed back toward the car to report to the station. Just then, an angry voice yelled behind them.
First, an overweight Black woman burst out of the house, jabbing a finger at Rorschach and cursing, "You had no right to come into my house shooting! I know your name, Rorschach Butcher! You betrayed the South Side! You think putting on that uniform means you can come down here and do whatever you want?"
Next, a burly Black man staggered out after her, his arm hanging uselessly, but his face twisted in manic excitement, as if he felt no pain at all.
"Go ahead, take her away, Rorschach. She'll be back with me in a couple of days anyway." The man glared at the girl in Rorschach's arms and sneered, "This is the South Side. I'll remember this little cutie's face. She's not getting away."
Rorschach suddenly stopped walking. He sighed, then set the girl down and gently ruffled her hair, a reasonably kind smile tugging at his lips.
"Kid, don't look. Close your eyes."
The girl did not really understand, but she still nodded obediently and squeezed her eyes shut.
Rorschach smiled, then looked at Ginny and said seriously, "Lesson four for a good cop: don't leave victims exposed to secondary harm."
As soon as he finished speaking, under Ginny's horrified gaze, Rorschach raised the Remington in his other hand, pivoted, and fired.
Boom!
The 12-gauge shell slammed square into the chest of the still-yammering Black man, hurling him several yards back before he crashed heavily to the ground.
But Rorschach did not intend to stop. He strode forward, racking the pump again and again, each large-caliber round slamming mercilessly into the man's body.
In an instant, the only sound in the yard was the thunder of the shotgun. By the time all seven shells were spent, the Black man was nothing but a mangled heap of flesh, staring up wordlessly at Rorschach towering over him.
As for his wife—well, the woman who had sworn a second ago that she would file a complaint against Rorschach now did not even dare breathe. She had her back pressed flat against the wall, trembling as she stared at Rorschach like he was a demon.
Out of sight of everyone else, a thread of red light flickered from the Black man's corpse and shot into Rorschach's chest.
Rorschach calmly felt the subtle changes in his body. The next second, he turned to Ginny and gave a helpless shrug.
"Guess we can skip calling him an ambulance."
"…"
————————
Half an hour later, outside a house somewhere in the South Side.
Ginny lifted the badly frightened girl down from the car. She glanced at the nearby home where the girl lived and could not help asking the still-seated Rorschach, "Aren't you coming with me to take her back?"
"No, you go." Rorschach lit a cigarette and replied without looking back, "Go enjoy what it feels like to save a family. Consider it a rookie bonus."
"Bonus?" Ginny blinked in confusion, assuming it was just another of Rorschach's weird lines. With a soft huff, she wrapped an arm around the girl and went to ring the bell.
Only when the girl's parents rushed out in tears did Ginny understand what Rorschach meant.
"Cassie!!!" A young housewife screamed the name from the bottom of her lungs and threw her arms around the girl, clutching her as if she would never let go.
Cassie, whose crying had just stopped, burst into tears again. Her small hands locked around her mother's neck, unwilling to be separated. Beside them, a man in a suit dropped to one knee with a thud and wrapped mother and daughter in a tight embrace, tears of joy streaming down his face.
Seeing this, Ginny suddenly felt something indescribable rise in her chest.
She could not quite tell whether it was a sense of achievement or simple joy at another family's reunion. All she knew was that something inside her felt full, deeply satisfied, and… she liked it.
Not far away, watching Ginny flustered but deeply moved by Cassie's parents' gratitude, Rorschach also allowed himself a small smile.
Then his expression turned thoughtful.
He had grown up in the South Side and knew this lawless corner of Chicago like the back of his hand. Drugs, robberies, gang wars—those were everyday sights. But something like human trafficking? That was rare.
"Has the quality of crime in Chicago really sunk this low…" Rorschach shook his head and was just about to light another cigarette when his phone suddenly rang in his pocket.
He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. When he saw the name "Gus" on the caller ID, his eyes narrowed slightly, and his fingers tightened around the phone.
After a brief silence, he answered. A gentle, courteous voice came through:
"Rorschach, I'm moving a shipment of children to New York soon. Keep an eye on what's happening inside the department and report to me at all times…"