"Mr. Rorschach!"
The moment Rorschach appeared on the street, Jarvis immediately stepped forward from beside the car and greeted him politely. As always, the butler's posture was impeccable, his expression calm and professional.
"Jarvis," Rorschach replied with a faint smile, "have you been waiting long?"
"I arrived only a short while ago," Jarvis answered smoothly. "Please get in the car, Mr. Rorschach. The dinner arrangements have already been completed."
He walked around the vehicle and opened the door for Rorschach with a courteous gesture.
It had to be said that in many ways, Howard Stark's butler looked far more like a refined gentleman than Stark himself. Despite no longer being young, Howard Stark still carried the personality of a flamboyant playboy, something that had never truly faded.
"A dinner?" Rorschach said as he glanced at Jarvis. "Wasn't it supposed to be a simple meal? Stark doesn't need to make it so grand."
"Mr. Rorschach saved Mr. Stark's life," Jarvis replied politely. "Under those circumstances, a casual dinner would be rather inappropriate."
He gestured again toward the open door.
"What savior?" Rorschach chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "That's a bit exaggerated."
Still, he didn't argue further.
Howard Stark lacked many things in life, but money certainly wasn't one of them. If Stark wanted to host a lavish dinner, then that was simply his style.
"Sir, target located! I repeat—target located!"
Just as Rorschach was about to step into the car, his movement paused for a brief moment.
His superhuman hearing had caught something unusual.
"Are you certain?"
A voice came through what sounded like a radio transmitter, the tone filled with restrained excitement.
"The facial similarity with the portrait exceeds eighty percent. I can confirm that this is the target we've been searching for."
"Excellent," the other voice responded quickly. "Maintain surveillance."
"Understood, sir."
The brief exchange ended there.
"Mr. Rorschach?"
Jarvis noticed that Rorschach had momentarily stopped moving and looked at him with mild concern.
"Oh, it's nothing," Rorschach said calmly.
He waved his hand dismissively and stepped into the car as if nothing had happened.
However, his senses were already fully alert.
Through the window, Rorschach glanced casually toward the direction where the voices had come from.
As expected, he spotted the source almost immediately.
Standing in an inconspicuous corner was a capable-looking man in his early thirties with a close-cropped haircut. The man appeared relaxed, but his eyes were fixed directly on Rorschach's position.
The moment Rorschach entered the vehicle, the man turned and walked toward a nearby car.
Soon after Jarvis started the engine and pulled onto the street, that vehicle quietly followed at a careful distance.
The movement was subtle, but it was obvious to someone like Rorschach.
He was certain now.
The man's target was him.
"Who could it be?" Rorschach wondered silently.
In truth, he hadn't been living in this world for very long, and he hadn't consciously made enemies.
But when he thought about it more carefully, that idea quickly fell apart.
After all, he had killed Sabretooth.
He had killed Azazel and Riptide.
He had wiped out several werewolves as well.
Thinking about it that way, perhaps saying he had no enemies wasn't entirely accurate.
Still, the Sabretooth incident had happened quite some time ago. Through Caliban's information network, it was already confirmed that Shaw had never identified him as the killer.
So who exactly was targeting him now?
Could it be the werewolves?
But that theory didn't make much sense either.
Werewolves operating under some organized leadership?
That seemed unlikely.
Rorschach leaned back in his seat, his eyes closing slightly as if he were resting.
In reality, his mind was rapidly analyzing possibilities.
Yet after running through several theories, none of them provided a clear answer.
Eventually, he stopped thinking about it.
Whoever was watching him would reveal themselves sooner or later.
When that moment came, everything would become clear.
…
On 54th Street in New York, a temporary command center had been set up inside an unremarkable building.
Inside the room, William Stryker's face was filled with excitement.
Finally.
After all this time, he had finally found the man.
The deaths of Sabretooth and Zero had haunted Stryker for months. Those two soldiers had been valuable assets, and losing them had been both a personal and professional blow.
Naturally, he had invested enormous effort into investigating their killer.
But strangely enough, aside from the amusement park where the incident occurred, the perpetrators had left almost no trace.
That lack of evidence had infuriated him.
Eventually, Stryker had been forced to abandon the investigation.
Yet unexpectedly, a breakthrough had arrived from an entirely different direction.
Lucien had provided a crucial clue.
An Eastern-looking young man who had killed a werewolf with his bare hands.
Although Stryker himself was not a mutant, his understanding of mutants was extremely deep. Over the years, he had encountered many of them.
One thing had always stood out to him.
Most mutants were Westerners.
Seeing someone of Eastern origin with mutant abilities was extremely rare.
In fact, during all his years studying mutants, Stryker had never encountered one personally.
That detail alone had already made the suspect unusual.
Then there was the fighting style.
Both Sabretooth's killer and the man described by Lucien relied primarily on physical combat.
No obvious mutant powers.
Just raw strength.
The similarities were enough to attract Stryker's attention.
He immediately ordered a full investigation.
Using the tavern where the werewolf incident occurred as the central point, his men began deploying surveillance across a wide area.
They monitored every known connection linked to the mysterious young man.
The middle-aged man who frequently entered and exited the tavern with him.
The tavern's owner.
Howard Stark, whom the young man had reportedly saved.
All of these individuals were placed under observation.
Jarvis, as Stark's trusted representative, was naturally included in the surveillance as well.
However, two key leads had quickly disappeared.
The "middle-aged man" was actually Raven in disguise.
And Caliban, the tavern owner, possessed extremely sharp instincts. After the incident involving the firefight between agents, he had immediately relocated.
Both leads vanished without a trace.
Ironically, the breakthrough came from Jarvis.
The one person Stryker had least expected to produce results had ultimately provided the most valuable lead.
"Sir, the target has been confirmed," an agent reported.
Standing nearby, Wade stepped forward immediately.
"Sir, I'll go capture him," he said confidently.
"Wait, Wade," Stryker interrupted.
Wade paused.
"You will not act alone this time," Stryker continued. "I'm assigning you two tactical teams. You will command them."
Wade blinked.
"Sir, isn't that a little excessive?" he said with a slightly helpless expression. "We're just arresting one guy, not fighting a war."
To him, the plan sounded overly cautious.
After all, killing Sabretooth wasn't exactly an impossible feat.
But Stryker had his own reasoning.
"Wade," he said seriously, "you are an important candidate for the Weapon X program. I cannot afford to lose you."
His tone left no room for argument.
"I will not take unnecessary risks."
Wade sighed dramatically.
"So you actually think there's a chance I could fail?" he asked. "Sir, I'm a little hurt. I thought after all this time you understood me better."
Stryker's patience ran out.
"Enough, Wade," he snapped.
"Your mission is simple. Bring the man to me alive while ensuring your own safety."
Then he added coldly,
"And if bringing him back proves impossible… then bring me his blood."
For Stryker's research, the serum alone would be sufficient.
Of course, capturing the man alive remained the preferred outcome.
Stryker wanted answers.
More specifically, he wanted to know what kind of mutant organization stood behind someone like Rorschach.
But if that objective proved impossible…
He would settle for the next best thing.
.....
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