"Another Deadpool."
The thought crossed Rorschach's mind as steel clashed violently in the hall. His daggers met the ninja's katana again and again, each impact ringing through the air like hammer strikes against an anvil.
Of all the opponents he could face, martial artists like this were the most annoying.
A fighter like Deadpool might not be capable of seriously injuring him, but they were slippery. They moved constantly, hid their weaknesses well, and knew exactly how to avoid direct confrontation. They were like rats in a maze—hard to catch, even if they couldn't truly win.
Fortunately, the ninja in front of him wasn't quite on Deadpool's level.
From the moment the fight began, the man had been completely suppressed.
Every exchange forced him backward, every movement pushed him deeper into defense. Under Rorschach's relentless pressure, the ninja barely had any room left to breathe.
At this rate, it was only a matter of time before he died.
Rorschach couldn't help thinking about something else as he fought.
It would be much easier if his heat vision could last longer.
If those beams could fire continuously, battles like this would be effortless. There would be no need for complicated maneuvering or drawn-out exchanges.
He could simply look at an enemy and end the fight instantly.
Right now, though, the ability worked more like a machine gun firing short bursts.
Powerful, but limited.
Even so, for ordinary opponents it was more than enough.
The ninja certainly felt that way.
Facing Rorschach was like fighting a walking disaster. He had already realized that direct confrontation was suicide.
The boy's physical strength alone was overwhelming, and those red beams from his eyes were even more terrifying. One careless mistake would mean either death or crippling injury.
Because of that, the ninja focused entirely on evasive movement.
He darted across the floor, shifting angles constantly and striking only when he saw a narrow opportunity. Every motion relied on agility and timing rather than raw force.
But even with that strategy, the pressure kept mounting.
While Rorschach fought the ninja downstairs, another battle was unfolding above.
Eric had already reached the corridor on the second floor.
The moment he stepped into view of Sebastian Shaw, his rage exploded into action.
Metal screamed through the air.
Under Eric's control, dozens of metal objects ripped free from the surroundings and shot toward Shaw like deadly projectiles. Pipes, fragments of machinery, broken railings—anything metallic became a weapon.
The corridor filled with the sound of whistling steel.
The strange translucent man standing beside Shaw made no move to help.
Instead, he simply turned his own body intangible and watched the scene like a spectator. Several metal fragments passed directly through his transparent form without leaving the slightest mark.
Shaw, meanwhile, barely reacted at all.
He walked forward slowly, a faint sneer on his lips as the storm of metal crashed into him.
Each object lost its momentum the instant it touched his body.
The kinetic energy vanished, absorbed completely.
Then the metal simply dropped to the floor.
"You're overflowing with anger, Eric," Shaw said calmly as he continued approaching. His tone carried the faint satisfaction of a craftsman admiring his own creation.
"Shouldn't you be thanking me?"
Eric didn't respond.
His eyes burned with hatred as he continued hurling metal at Shaw again and again.
Every attack failed.
Every projectile fell uselessly to the ground.
But Eric didn't care.
At this moment his mind contained only one thought.
Kill Shaw.
Nothing else existed.
Reason, strategy, caution—everything had disappeared beneath the weight of his rage. He simply poured all his strength into the attack, as if overwhelming force alone could destroy the man in front of him.
Shaw walked straight through the storm of metal.
Without slowing down.
Within seconds he had crossed the corridor and arrived directly in front of Eric.
His hand shot forward.
He grabbed Eric by the throat.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
All the metal objects suspended in midair lost their control at once. They fell to the floor in a scattered cascade of noise.
At the same moment downstairs—
Rorschach finished his fight.
The ninja's body collapsed after the final exchange. Rorschach tossed the corpse aside casually before lifting his head toward the second floor.
His eyes settled on the corridor above.
Shaw held Eric in the air with one hand.
Eric struggled violently, but it was useless. In terms of pure physical strength, he was still just an ordinary man.
Shaw's grip was immovable.
"Don't do anything reckless," Shaw said calmly, tightening his fingers slightly around Eric's throat. "Otherwise your friend might not survive."
Eric gasped as he fought against the hold, but he couldn't break free.
All he managed was a strained shout.
"Don't… worry about me… kill him!"
The words came out in fragments as he struggled to breathe.
Shaw laughed.
"Eric, Eric," he said almost pityingly. "You know he can't do that. People like you always share the same weakness, don't you?"
His gaze shifted toward Rorschach.
"Besides," he continued with a mocking smile, "even if he ignored your life entirely… do you really think he could kill me?"
Shaw looked like a general who had already secured victory.
"So," he said slowly, "what will you choose?"
Rorschach hadn't spoken a word.
But at that moment, his eyes began to glow red.
Shaw clicked his tongue.
"You know that won't work," he said dismissively.
Then the beams fired.
But they weren't aimed at Shaw.
Instead, the heat vision shot upward toward the reinforced concrete ceiling above the corridor.
Crack.
Crack.
The beams carved through the structure like a hot knife through butter. Within seconds, chunks of concrete and broken debris began crashing down from above.
Dust exploded into the air.
Shaw could absorb energy—but he couldn't absorb dust.
The sudden cloud filled his eyes and nose instantly.
Instinctively, he released Eric and raised his arms to cover his face.
At the same moment—
Boom.
Rorschach kicked off the ground.
The floor shattered beneath his feet as he launched upward like a fired shell. In a single leap he crossed the distance to the second floor and landed beside Eric.
He grabbed Eric by the arm and pulled him upright.
"Eric," Rorschach asked, looking at him quickly, "are you alright?"
Eric coughed violently for a moment before catching his breath.
"I'm fine," he said hoarsely. "Thanks to you, Rorschach."
If Rorschach hadn't intervened, he would have remained helpless in Shaw's grip.
For Eric, that humiliation would have been worse than death.
"You have more potential than I expected," Shaw said as the dust finally settled. He lowered his hands and looked toward Rorschach with open admiration.
"You've surprised me several times tonight."
His expression shifted suddenly.
The warmth vanished.
"But unfortunately," he said coldly, "I have to kill you."
Then he moved.
Shaw rushed forward.
What surprised Rorschach most wasn't the attack itself—but the skill behind it.
Shaw's movements were sharp and precise.
Although not quite on Deadpool's level, his combat ability was easily comparable to the ninja Rorschach had just defeated.
"This is cheating," Rorschach thought helplessly.
Being able to absorb all energy and ignore nearly every form of attack was already ridiculous. But on top of that, Shaw was also a trained fighter?
That advantage was almost as outrageous as Rorschach's own powers—well, maybe one-tenth as outrageous.
But Rorschach had no intention of fighting him directly.
The moment Shaw rushed forward, Rorschach grabbed Eric again and leapt backward in a single bound.
He retreated several meters in an instant.
Fighting Shaw head-on would accomplish nothing.
Every attack would simply make the man stronger.
There was no reason to waste effort on something so pointless.
.....
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