North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 127: The Killing God Meets the Killing God at the Continental Hotel (asking for monthly tickets)
Manhattan.

Rorschach followed the address provided by Harold and arrived in front of an oval building.

Above the main entrance is a classically styled metal sign that reads "THE CONTINENTAL."

Cigarette butts fell from the car window and the door was flung open.

Rorschach pulled the collar of his leather jacket, whistled, and strolled into this so-called "killer hotel".

The interior of the hotel is decorated in low-key dark colors. The surrounding walls are inlaid with exquisite stone murals, and paired with vintage clocks and marble domes, it looks very low-key and luxurious.

The hotel didn't seem to be doing much business. Even though it was located in midtown Manhattan, there were few people in the lobby.

The few guests were sitting far apart from each other, some holding a newspaper, and some following Rorschach's gaze as he came in, their eyes full of vigilance and hostility.

Rorschach walked past these guys without noticing anything, his hands in his jacket pockets, whistling a whistle he had learned from some movie in his previous life, and walked straight to the front desk.

There, a black man in a neat suit was staring at him intently.

"Good afternoon, guest."

Charon stared at the man at the counter. Although his heart was already in turmoil, he suppressed his anxiety and maintained a professional smile. "How can I help you?"

Rorschach shrugged casually. "I heard the quality of your weapons is pretty good. I'm here to buy some."

Charon smiled slightly and did not respond directly. Instead, he asked, "Do you have any proof? Or gold coins?"

Rorschach shook his head. "Yes, I do, but I have a friend named Harold. He said I only need to mention his name when I come here. It seems he has deposited quite a bit of money with your hotel."

The black receptionist's smile instantly grew more sincere. "Mr. Finch is indeed our hotel's top VIP guest. He has a $20 million account reserved for him, equivalent to 4,000 gold coins. Are you sure all your expenses for today will be deducted from Mr. Finch's account?"

After receiving a positive answer, a waiter in a suit immediately came forward to lead Rorschach.

Just as Rorschach was about to leave, Charon suddenly bowed slightly and said respectfully, "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Rorschach Butcher."

Rorschach glanced at him and asked with a half-smile, "Do you know me?"

"of course."

Charon remained appropriately modest. "In the underworld, your deeds over the past month have become the stuff of legend."

Rorschach raised the corner of his mouth slightly. He didn't know that he was so famous in the killer world.

As for how the other party recognized me, this is not difficult to understand.

A hotel receptionist who is specifically responsible for receiving killers naturally has a sharp eye.

After all, apart from shaving his beard and changing his hairstyle, there is basically no other change in Rorschach now.

"Finally, I wish you a happy shopping." Charon showed his respect to the fullest.

After Rorschach's figure disappeared into the depths of the corridor, the black receptionist Charon pondered for a moment and finally picked up the dedicated line to the manager's office.

"Mr. Winston, the 'Judge' has just arrived at the hotel."

"Rorschach Butcher?"

"Yes, that's him."

In the luxurious office on the top floor of the hotel, a white-haired old man suddenly jumped up from his chair when he heard this.

He shouted anxiously into the microphone, "Investigate immediately! Find out which current hotel guest has offended him, and then kick that unlucky guy out!"

"He dared to kill someone in the hotel?" Charon asked hesitantly.

"Nonsense! What is he afraid of? He even dares to kill the Speaker of the House of Representatives!"

Winston hurriedly put on his suit jacket, his voice tinged with nervousness. "I can't let this killer break the rules on my turf. The Continental Hotel's iron rule of no violence must not be broken by me!"

Listening to the panicked voice on the other end of the phone, Charon frowned slightly and explained, "Mr. Winston, perhaps you are worrying too much. Rorschach clearly stated that he was only here to purchase weapons."

"Buy weapons? Are you sure?"

"That should be right. He used Mr. Finch's account."

Hearing this, Winston's tense expression finally relaxed a little.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

At the same time, in a hidden room on the first floor of the hotel.

Rorschach, who was led here by the waiter, was looking around with shining eyes.

Under the precise lighting of embedded spotlights, the guns displayed in bulletproof glass display cases and on the walls exude a charming cold and hard luster.

What's on display here are not the mass-produced standard weapons found in ordinary gun stores, but specially made killing weapons that have been carefully modified!
"this."

"Logan."

"Mr. Logan, welcome to the weapons store."

A gentleman in a tailored suit and white gloves politely inquired about Rorschach's needs.

Considering the nature of his recent work, Rorschach pointed to the display wall full of pistols behind him and said, "Let's take a look at the pistols first."

The man in the suit nodded in understanding and took out a handful of treasures one by one with his white-gloved hands, introducing them one by one as if they were his treasures:
"The Heckler & Koch P30L pistol, chambered for 9mm ammunition, has a capacity of 15 rounds. This elite police model features an extended barrel for improved sighting, an aluminum alloy muzzle compensator, and a non-slip grip, achieving the ultimate balance of accuracy, reliability, and ergonomics."

"The Glock 26 subcompact pistol, also in 9mm caliber, has a 10-round magazine capacity. It's an excellent concealable firepower option. The only drawback is that the compact grip design may not be suitable for users with larger hands like you."

"The Walther P99 semi-automatic pistol maintains a 9mm caliber while achieving a 16-round magazine capacity. It features a lightweight design and exceptional reliability."

After introducing a series of classic models in detail, the other party focused on displaying the hotel's unique customized models.

According to him, these modification plans are based on actual combat feedback from the hotel's senior customers, and each change is aimed at making the bullets hit the target faster and more accurately.

Click-click

Rorschach played with a P30L with one hand, pulling the slide smoothly to test the feel, and then suddenly raised the gun to aim.

From the aiming baseline, the line of sight is straight and unobstructed, and the grip feels surprisingly comfortable.

"This. This and these. Oh, and these on this wall. Pick them all off and pack them up."

Faced with such a generous buyer, the professional smile on the man in the suit's face suddenly became much more sincere.

After a while, when Rorschach came out of the weapons store, he was followed by two waiters, each carrying two heavy weapon boxes.

Rorschach looked around the interior of the hotel as he walked, and had to admit that the layout was quite unique.

In addition to the weapon store, there are also several exclusive areas with different functions.

As soon as he left the room, he saw an open tailor shop not far away. Inside the shop were several floor-length mirrors neatly arranged.

He subconsciously slowed down his pace, looked down at the leather jacket that had accompanied him through many bloody battles, and after a moment of silence, he turned around and walked into the store.

He plans to treasure the leather jacket that old Logan left him for the rest of his life.

But the reality is that there will be fierce gun battles in the days ahead.

He really couldn't bear to see it being beaten to pieces like last time.

Soon, two old tailors in their sixties were holding tape measures and carefully measuring Rorschach's size.

One of them was carefully writing down his requirements. "What style do you need?"

“Italian.”

"A few buttons."

"Two."

"Where are the pants?"

"Narrow feet."

"lining?"

".Combat style."

Rorschach shared all the knowledge about suits he had learned from Ginny and Maria, and at the same time referred to the style album on the wall to choose his favorite design.

After confirming all the details, an old tailor pressed a hidden button on the table.

With the sound of mechanical operation, the wall beside Rorschach slowly flipped over, revealing a hidden space similar to a shooting range.

The old tailor raised his hand towards Rorschach, making a gesture of invitation.

Ten meters away, stood a plastic mannequin in a suit.

Rorschach raised his eyebrows, and the next second, the HK P30L on his waist was unsheathed!

"Bang bang bang-!"

Gunshots rang out!

Even though they were used to seeing all kinds of killers shooting, the two old tailors were still stunned by the lightning-fast shooting.

By the time they came to their senses, all fifteen bullets had been fired, leaving only smoke curling from the muzzle.

On the suit model in the distance, bullet marks are precisely distributed in key positions such as shoulders, cuffs, waist and collar.

What is amazing is that apart from the impact, the model's interior is intact.

Rorschach tossed the pistol to the waiter and nodded with satisfaction. "Looks good. What's it made of?"

"Silicon carbide discs, ceramic matrix, accompanied by laminated materials, absolutely cutting-edge body armor!" the old tailor replied quickly.

"Five sets tailored to my body type. And..."

Rorschach pointed at the old man and emphasized, "I'm not used to wearing those pretentious formal clothes, and I don't like wearing ties. It's better to be casual."

"Of course, Italian casual tailoring, you're guaranteed to be satisfied."

After leaving the delivery address, Rorschach left the tailor shop satisfied.

He thoroughly enjoyed his shopping at the Continental Hotel today.

As soon as I walked into the corridor, a white-haired old man came up to me with a smile on his face.

"Mr. Butcher, I've long heard of you. I'm Winston, the manager of the Continental Hotel."

Seeing the other party's unassuming attitude, Rorschach smiled and shook his hand. "Your hotel is very nice. I'll come here often when I have time."

Hearing this, Winston felt relieved and his smile became even more sincere.

"All the money I bought was deducted from Finch's account. Is there a problem?" Rorschach pointed to the gun bag that the waiter behind him was carrying with difficulty.

Upon hearing this, Winston immediately said politely, "Consider these items you've selected as a token of our appreciation. For a legend like you, all Continental hotels around the world will offer the highest hospitality."

Rorschach looked at him with some surprise.

From the black receptionist to the manager of this hotel, everyone seemed to be particularly polite to me.

"Really? Then I'll be welcome."

Rorschach smiled at the old man, and before leaving, the hotel manager used the same honorific as the black receptionist.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Rorschach Butcher."

"Okay. It's an honor to meet you, too."

He shook his head helplessly.

When Harold described this as a hotel full of killers, he thought he would encounter a group of unruly desperadoes.

As a result, when they came in, not only were they all dressed in suits and ties, but they were also extremely polite and respectful to me.

Watching Rorschach's leaving back, Winston secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

What he was most worried about was that this evil star wanted to register as a killer in a mainland hotel.

It’s not that he doubts the other party’s strength, it’s simply because the trouble Rorschach caused is too difficult.

Even the huge forces behind the mainland hotels would have to think twice before acting in the face of such a disaster.

However, just as he was about to return to his office and breathe a sigh of relief, his expression suddenly froze.

A man with long hair and a black suit walked into the hotel with a beagle and met Rorschach face to face.

Just as the two were about to pass each other, Rorschach suddenly stopped.

He looked down at the cute little dog and couldn't help but smile: "Nice dog, what's his name?"

John looked at him with a hint of surprise and replied softly, "Daisy."

"Oh, that sounds like a girl's name."

Rorschach crouched down and gently teased the little beagle with his fingers.

Winston, who was witnessing this scene not far away, had beads of sweat on his forehead.

If these two killer gods clash here, they will fight.
Fortunately, the scenario he was most worried about did not happen.

Rorschach stood up and smiled at John. "I also have a dog named Brian, a silver-white shepherd dog. By the way, where do you usually walk your dog? New York has so many rules, it's not easy to find a suitable place to walk your dog."

".Tom Kings Square Park."

John replied expressionlessly, not really knowing how to respond to this outspoken stranger.

Seeing that this guy was so boring, Rorschach nodded and said no more. Finally, he rubbed little Daisy's head, passed by John, and left the Continental Hotel.

John looked back at Rorschach's receding figure, frowned slightly, and then didn't think any more about it.

He walked up to the sweaty Winston and dropped a bombshell on the killer world as soon as he opened his mouth: "From today on, I am ready to retire, Winston."

----------

Outside the hotel.

Rorschach threw four heavy gun bags into the trunk, and before starting the engine, he couldn't help but look at the long-haired man in a suit walking his dog out of the Continental Hotel.

"Fuck, he's so damn handsome?!"

(End of this chapter)