The cell was thick with the mingled scent of blood and medicine, iron chains clinking as if to remind the prisoner of the last shred of dignity he still clung to.
The man in black robes had long since been beaten black and blue, his clothes in tatters, sweat and blood dripping from his chin.
His breathing was weak, but Miss Helos’s potion forcibly dragged him back to consciousness, and his eyes were filled with utter despair.
“Hm?”
Like a magician, Miss Helos produced yet another vial of red life potion.
The firelight reflected on the liquid, casting an uncanny crimson glow.
The girl tilted her head slightly, pretending to be surprised as she looked at the “test subject” before her.
“You’re still not going to talk, even after all this?”
The cultist’s lips twitched, his chest heaving as he spoke in a hoarse, exhausted voice: “You guys. You guys, why the hell don’t you ask anything.”
“Huh?”
Miss Helos paused, then slowly turned around, feigning sudden realization as she swept her gaze over the room.
“What? We never asked you any questions?”
Her tone was full of innocent “not my fault” as she even spread her hands slightly, as if she really had forgotten about the “interrogation” part.
“Bull—”
The man in black was about to snap back, but before he could get the words out, the girl nonchalantly shrugged.
“Ah, forget it. We already know all your little tricks, anyway. Whether we ask or not doesn’t make a difference.”
The man in black nearly coughed up blood from sheer frustration.
Julius stared, his expression saying, “What the hell, how can you be so wicked?”
“Shhh—”
Miss Helos raised her finger to her lips, making a hush gesture through her mask, her tone mischievous as always. “Don’t ruin the mood.”
With that, she casually shook the potion in her hand, the liquid sloshing against the glass with a “gurgle gurgle” sound.
But Miss Helos’s gaze had already fallen on Werner at the other side.
“Oh right, Werner.”
She pretended to ponder for a moment. “Do you want to stretch your muscles a bit? Maybe help verify whether the potion still works properly?”
Werner said nothing, only lowered his head to stare at the man in black, his gaze as cold as a blade.
Yet that silence was even more oppressive than any words.
“Don’t—don’t… don’t come any closer!!”
The cultist’s pupils shrank, his mental state collapsing.
He stared in terror at the swaying potion in Miss Helos’s hand and at Werner’s expressionless face, his mind instantly filling with images of himself trapped in an endless, horrifying cycle.
No.
He couldn’t go through that again.
If it happened one more time, he’d really go insane!
“Wait!”
At last, the cultist completely panicked.
His voice trembled, full of desperation, like a beast with its throat caught.
“I… I have something! I have information you don’t know!!”
The air in the cell instantly grew still.
Kyle raised an eyebrow, grinning like someone who enjoyed the show: “Oh? Finally can’t take it anymore? I thought you’d last a few more rounds.”
Selina’s gaze flickered, her gray eyes tinged with coldness and a hint of mockery. “Overestimated him.”
Miss Helos, however, was in no hurry to press. She clasped her hands behind her back, feigning reluctance as she drawled, “Oh? You have information?”
“Y-Yes!”
The man in black nodded frantically, veins bulging on his forehead, afraid they wouldn’t believe him.
“Heh—”
Miss Helos chuckled softly, pretending to hesitate.
“But… does it really make a difference whether we ask or not? We already know, anyway.”
“Don’t—don’t joke around!”
The man in black nearly leaped up in anxiety, but the chains kept him firmly in place.
“I’m telling the truth! It’s something you definitely haven’t uncovered yet! Just let me say—let me… I’ll talk!!”
Miss Helos tilted her head as if still unsure, until Julius leaned close to her ear and quietly urged,
“If he’s willing to talk, hurry up and ask.”
“The sooner we get information, the better.”
“Tch.”
Only then did the girl act as if she reluctantly agreed, as if forced into it.
“Alright, then I’ll…ask, I suppose.”
She strolled up to the cultist, her gaze behind the mask meeting his.
“So, tell us. What else do you know?”
The man in black let out a long breath, his eyes full of humiliation and struggle, but at last he nodded.
“I’ll talk… but you have to guarantee my safety…”
At this, Miss Helos shook the vial gently, placing her hand to her ear and deliberately saying, “Huh? Didn’t catch that, what did you just say?”
“I’ll talk—I’ll tell you everything!!”
The interrogation finally came to an end in the dim cell. Covered in wounds, the man in black hung his head in misery, gasping out his final words.
“…The warehouse… in the lower district, connected to the Baron’s manor… He… he’s our Shelterer…”
Miss Helos listened in silence until the prisoner’s breathing grew weaker, then slowly straightened up.
She raised her notecard and wrote the final line.
“The warehouse connects to the Baron’s manor. The cultists colluded with the Baron, and their target is, as expected, my sister.”
She repeated softly, her tone calm but making everyone’s heart clench. “Looks like we’re on the right track.”
At this, Miss Helos turned to Werner.
“Werner.”
Her voice was low, tinged with a hint of probing. “What do you think?”
Werner’s face remained expressionless, his cold gaze fixed on the now half-conscious cultist as he spoke slowly:
“He’s telling the truth.”
The cell fell silent.
Miss Helos stared at him, her eyes behind the mask glimmering with a complex light.
“I see.”
She seemed to ponder something, then quietly exhaled. “Thank you, Werner.”
Werner didn’t respond, only nodded in silence.
***
Outside the Duke’s study, Werner pushed open the heavy wooden door after receiving permission to enter.
“My lord.”
He knelt on one knee, his tone steady as always, and recounted everything that had happened in the cell.
He told how Miss Helos had prompted Julius to act, how she used the potion to force the man in black, and how, step by step, she broke down the cultist’s will.
Duke Eisende listened quietly, his hands folded on the desk, icy blue eyes never straying.
When Werner mentioned how calm—even overly practiced—Miss Helos had seemed, a flicker of complex emotion passed through Eisende’s eyes.
But as the report neared its end, that cold sharpness gradually faded from his gaze.
When Werner finished, the study was silent for a moment.
Then—
“Heh…”
A low chuckle escaped the Duke’s throat. Duke Eisende raised a hand to rub his brow, and for the first time in ages, a faint smile appeared on his face.
“My lord, why do you laugh?”
“It’s nothing, I just thought of my wife.”
There was a hint of melancholy in Eisende’s voice. “When we were young… we were just like them.”
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