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

Chapter 152 Want to meet the real Butcher (Butcher)? (Seeking monthly votes)

late at night.

When Luo Xia returned to the hotel, the receptionist was frantically chugging bottled water, her face pale and her expression contorted.

He walked past as if he didn't see anything and went straight to his room.

Before even opening the door, I could hear suggestive sounds coming from inside.

Upon entering, I saw that the four or five female roommates were naked and intertwined with each other.

"Um"

Rorschach stopped, closed the door, and began to admire the scene with great interest.

Yes, he hates LGBT people and has even used a baton to beat up groups during their marches.

He disliked, even loathed, all the genders—G (gay), B (bisexual), and T (transgender)—but he especially disliked the L (lesbian) at the very beginning.
Rorschach admitted that he had a particular fondness for these kinds of scenes.

Of course, this is on the premise that the participants are good-looking.

If it were an overweight middle-aged woman or a muscular tomboy, that would be a different story.

To put it bluntly, he's a visual creature, and the vibrant scene before him was indeed pleasing to the eye.

But soon after they discovered that Luo Xia had entered, the girls all changed their targets.

They all swarmed around him, and although Luo Xia felt a little disgusted by these girls who had already been played with, his body still reacted slightly.

Until a blonde girl tried to feed him wine with her mouth—

"Well"

Luo Xia suddenly covered her mouth and slapped her, forcing the girl to swallow the wine in her mouth, her eyes full of confusion.

“Do you know what I would do if I were you?” Rorschach swept his gaze across them.

The girls exchanged bewildered glances and shook their heads.

"I'll run for my life—"

As soon as he finished speaking, a pistol was drawn from Rorschach's waist and cocked instantly.

After a brief moment of stunned silence, a piercing scream erupted from the room as the girls scrambled out the door and fled.

The girl who was forced to drink collapsed to the ground after only a few steps, snoring loudly.

"What the hell? What kind of sleeping potion is this? Its effects are so exaggerated?"

Luo Xia kicked the girl who was lying on the ground and smiled in surprise.

At the same time, he turned his gaze to the only Asian girl in the room who hadn't run away, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Ready?"

"I"

The girl's voice trembled: "Just the two of us? There are at least dozens of them."

"Shit? Only a few dozen?!"

Rorschach cursed in annoyance and casually tossed his service pistol to the girl. "Here, you can use it. I won't use the gun. Otherwise, it'll end too quickly, and I won't even get enough of the thrill."

The girl hurriedly caught the pistol and said timidly, "But I don't know how to use a gun, I'm a terrible shot."

"Then pick one that suits your needs."

Luo Xia pulled a travel bag from under the bed and threw it to her. When the zipper was unzipped, the girl's expression froze instantly.

“By the way—” Rorschach suddenly raised his index finger and kindly reminded him, “I suggest choosing a submachine gun. It’s the easiest way to just shoot anyone you see.”

".OK."

The girl nodded emphatically, picked up two modified UMP submachine guns for close combat from the pile of weapons, neatly slung the gun slings around her neck, and a flame of revenge ignited in her eyes.

Seeing her menacing appearance, Luo Xia asked with interest, "Speaking of which, I still don't know your name."

Nikita.

"I asked about the Chinese name."

"No, I'll call her Nikita!"

"Alright then." Rorschach shrugged. "So, are you ready to unleash a massacre, Nikita?"

The girl took a deep breath, raised the two Uzi submachine guns hanging crosswise in front of her chest, and nodded vigorously.

------

"Damn it, why is my head so dizzy?"

Lemon struggled to open her eyes, and the pungent smell of blood and rust immediately filled her nostrils.

His last memory was of drinking with Mikan at a bar, on their way to the gang's hideout to get a sniper rifle, and then...
The veteran black hitman's eyes widened suddenly, and he shouted, "Fuck! The drink was poisoned! Mikan! Mikan! Are you still alive?"

He struggled desperately to get up, only to find himself firmly strapped to an iron chair welded to the ground.

Looking up, the entire ice-crystal-like room was filled with corpses, hanging upside down from the ceiling by iron hooks like pig carcasses in a slaughterhouse.

"Watfak."

Even Lemon, who was used to seeing dead people, couldn't help but panic when she saw this scene. Where the hell did this come from?

Hell?
"Mikan!"

He shouted his partner's name, but thankfully, trembling curses soon followed behind him.

"Shut up, you idiot! I'm right behind you!"

Hearing that familiar voice, Lemon turned her head to look.

His good brother was tied up with him, back to back.

so far so good
Lemon breathed a sigh of relief; now, even if she died, she would have a friend by her side.

"Damn it, who did this? Did we offend someone?" Mikan asked through gritted teeth, her voice even trembling slightly.

It's because the surrounding environment looks so creepy, like a human slaughterhouse.

"It was that receptionist! Fuck! That guy bought us two drinks that were drugged!"

Mikan gritted her teeth and shouted, "When I get out of here, the first thing I'll do is kill him!"

“Uh, have you forgotten, brother?” Lemon reminded him quietly, “That guy also drank the poisoned wine we prepared for Rorschach, and the poison in that cup was much more potent.”

"."

Mikan was taken aback, then reluctantly shut her mouth. The two began to struggle desperately, but the professional restraints binding their hands and feet remained unmoved.

Suddenly, the sound of a chainsaw rang out from deep within the ice cellar.

The two men felt a sudden tightness in their chests and quickly looked up.

A masked man wearing a butcher's leather skirt and holding a chainsaw in both hands was walking towards them step by step.

When he reached them, the man took off his mask, revealing a familiar face.

"Shet."

Mikan and Lemon's expressions instantly contorted in pain.

The answer was obvious: it was the middle-aged businessman who got off the bus with them and kindly acted as their tour guide.

Rooney looked at the two people in front of him and smiled, "To be honest, I would rather entertain Mr. Butcher than you two, but it seems he hasn't gotten into his honeymoon yet, so I'll just have to practice on you two first."

Noticing the horrified looks on their faces, he considerately turned off the chainsaw: "Don't worry, chainsaws are only used for the final step of breaking bones and opening the abdomen. We don't need it now."

After saying that, the guy picked up a sharp scalpel from the workbench and looked at the two brothers with trembling hands.

"Actually, I wanted to be a surgeon when I was young, rather than a businessman, but unfortunately..."

He looked at his hands, which always trembled uncontrollably, shook his head, and said with a self-deprecating laugh, "But it doesn't matter anymore. At least here, I can fulfill my dreams by spending money."

As the monstrous businessman drew ever closer, Lemon and Mandarin, who were tightly bound, couldn't help but exchange a desperate glance.

They had fantasized about many heroic endings for themselves, such as: a fierce battle with a top hotel assassin like John Vick, ending in a narrow defeat; a direct confrontation with a killing machine like Rorschach, ending in a narrow defeat; or a head-on clash with the Federation's most elite special forces, ending in a narrow defeat.
But what's going on now?

He was stabbed to death by an old pervert who couldn't even hold a knife properly?

That was such a damn pathetic death!

It was at the very moment they were being stabbed.

A muffled gunshot rang out outside the cellar!

"Remember, when using shotgun to break through this kind of iron door, don't aim for the latch, aim for the hinge, that's more vulnerable."

The entire iron gate collapsed with a crash. Rorschach kicked the wreckage aside and tossed the shotgun to Nikita behind him.

As he walked deeper into the cellar, he patiently explained the proper use of various firearms.

The gunshots alerted the patrolling guards in the corridor, who immediately swarmed toward the source of the sound.

However, as soon as they turned the corner, they were met with a hail of bullets.

"Submachine guns have a lot of recoil; you don't just need to support them, you need to suppress them!"

Rorschach grasped Nikita's trembling hands and pressed her against the gun. "The muzzle should move with your arm, not your wrist. Use your whole body to counteract the recoil, like this!"

As he spoke, he would occasionally adjust her firing angle, making the bullets that had missed their target find their mark again.

Soon, more than a dozen corpses lay scattered across the corridor.

Nikita gasped for breath, the fear in his eyes long since replaced by the excitement of revenge.

Luo Xia smiled with satisfaction and casually pushed open a door next to him.

The next second, his expression froze instantly—

In a cramped space of less than ten square meters, dozens of young girls' corpses were piled up, most of them so thin that they were skin and bones and no longer human.

“They were all tourists who died after being tortured by the hotel because they were addicted to drugs,” Nikita’s voice choked.

"Hmm," Rorschach asked expressionlessly, "who is the owner of this inn?"

"I'm not sure, but it should be someone from the military. I saw a middle-aged man in military uniform come to inspect before, and the receptionist called him BOSS."

Luo Xia nodded slightly.

Those who dare to engage in this kind of human flesh trade are either military personnel or political figures; ordinary wealthy people certainly don't have the guts or the means.

"Let's keep looking ahead, and you can practice your marksmanship while you're at it."

As the two advanced, each time they eliminated a group of guards, they discovered an even more gruesome "slaughter scene" in the room.

When they arrived at the last room, Rorschach suddenly stopped—the screams inside sounded vaguely familiar.

Inside the ice cellar, Lemon's chest was already slashed and mangled.

The wealthy businessman, like a mad apprentice, haphazardly slashed at his body with a scalpel, yet refused to give him a quick death.

"Fuck!" Lemon gasped in pain, feeling as if a layer of skin was being scraped off his chest.

"Hang in there! I'm trying to figure something out!" Mikan whispered encouragingly while the wealthy merchant went to select new torture instruments.

"You make it sound so easy," Lemon muttered weakly.

The two knew in their hearts that they could not break free from these specially made restraints.

Just when all hope seemed lost, a heavenly voice rang out:
"You're not suggesting this is another new tactic to assassinate me, are you?"

At the doorway, Luo Xia, a cigarette dangling from his lips, raised an eyebrow and sized up the two unfortunate brothers.

"Lo Rosha?!"

"Help, boss!"

The wealthy businessman Rooney was taken aback, then raised his scalpel and lunged forward.

Nikita decisively pulled the trigger, and a burst of bullets riddled his legs with holes.

After a period of live target training, this girl's marksmanship improved very quickly.

"Dong dong."

With heavy thuds on his boots, Rorschach walked to the workbench, looked at the dozens of rusty torture instruments in front of him, and couldn't help but glance at Rooney and ask.

Do you know the difference between you and an animal?

But the pampered businessman, clutching his legs in pain and groaning, could no longer hear what Luo Xia was saying.

"Animales don't hang their own kind on the wall as decorations, but you do."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the iron hook pierced Rooney's chin!
“Welcome to hell,” Rorschach whispered in the ear of the agonizingly contorted tycoon, “Want to see a real butcher?”

"."

(End of this chapter)