Interrogation in the Prison

Night.

In the quiet hilly area on the western outskirts of Xiting City, far from the hustle and bustle of the city center, stands a massive complex known as "Lepest."

It was originally a luxurious castle belonging to a grand duke of the previous dynasty, its towering spires and thick stone walls telling tales of past glory.

Today, however, it is shrouded in barbed wire, hidden guard posts, and an intangible, murderous atmosphere, serving as the headquarters for the Iron Glory Empire Security Committee—the dreaded "Clovin."

Hundreds of years ago, when the plans for this massive castle were first drawn up, the designer followed the grand duke's requirements and built hundreds of underground dungeons beneath it.

The environment there is cold and damp, yet it possesses excellent soundproofing; since the castle's inception, it has been the final destination for countless secrets and despair.

After Clovin took over the site, they simply renovated the underground dungeons and put them straight to use.

In one of the interrogation rooms, the air was so cold it felt as if it could condense moisture.

The only light source came from a dim tungsten bulb overhead, encased in a metal shade.

A young man was locked to a heavy metal chair with specialized handcuffs; his face was bruised and swollen, his clothes stained with large patches of blood, his consciousness hovering on the edge of excruciating pain and terror.

A few hours ago, he had been smugly attempting to use a forged Clovin credential to extort the owner of a small-scale underground casino.

He never expected that the small casino was already under the close surveillance of the actual Clovin Third Bureau.

His actions were no different from a prey exposing itself directly before a hunter.

Among the eight executive bureaus of Clovin, the Third Bureau is responsible for monitoring organized crime, illegal transactions, and the economic networks of the underground black market.

The duties and authority of each Clovin executive bureau are clearly defined. Generally, if they encounter a case or incident that does not fall under their jurisdiction, it should be handed over to the specialized bureau; however, for minor incidents or small-time characters, any Clovin bureau that happens upon them will simply resolve the matter on the spot.

Arrest first, ask later; beat first, interrogate later—this is the special privilege granted to Clovin by the Empire.

Only in the case of major events or significant cases would a transfer within the organization take place.

As for a guy holding a fake Clovin credential trying to extort a small underground casino owner, he was merely a small fry in the eyes of Clovin members.

"Sukupulie!" one of the Clovin members spat at the other, cursing with an Iron Glory Empire profanity that roughly meant "bastard."

He grabbed the man's slumped head—the Clovin member's methods had left the guy's face swollen like a balloon—and held up the fake credential, shouting, "What—are your family members mass-produced at the market? You get one batch killed, and you can just buy another? What gave you the guts to pull something like this?"

Under the "professional" and efficient interrogation methods of the Third Bureau members, the thief's already fragile psychological defense collapsed rapidly.

The key was that Clovin hadn't even conducted a formal interrogation at first. When he was sent to Lepest and thrown into this interrogation room, the guys who walked in started with a small combo of blows; even if the thief had wanted to confess, they hadn't given him the chance to speak.

Only after these Clovin men had their fill did they give the guy a chance to open his mouth.

He stuttered and confessed the origin of the fake credential... it was just this noon, at the corner where the end of Lubo Lane intersected with another street.

He had deliberately bumped into a young man wearing a brown trench coat. The man seemed to have just come out of a nearby restaurant, walking in a leisurely manner and lacking vigilance, so with his practiced sleight of hand, he had swiped this seemingly ordinary credential from the man's pocket.

He had originally thought it was a small wallet, but upon opening it and seeing the Imperial Security Committee emblem, he realized he had just stolen from Clovin.

Since he didn't know the difference between a real Clovin credential and a fake one, he just wanted to leave Xiting City as quickly as possible to avoid being found by Clovin. However, being short on cash for travel, he had tried to extort a small underground casino.

He wailed and swore that he had absolutely no idea the credential was fake; he was just a thief, and the fake credential was truly stolen at noon, not forged by him or obtained through other channels.

He had never even imagined that he would run straight into the muzzle of the real Clovin because of it.

Strictly speaking, there was nothing wrong with the result of Malcolm's coin divination—the thief indeed had not reported anything to official agencies.

If the question Malcolm had asked during the divination was, "Will this lost fake Clovin credential attract the attention of Clovin?"

Or, "Will this lost fake Clovin document bring trouble to myself?"

Then the result of the coin toss might have been tails.

But this thief, driven by the fear of Clovin's reputation, had tried to use the fake credential to secure travel money, only to expose both himself and the fake credential to the eyes of the real Clovin in the worst possible way.

Soon, this confession, along with the crudely forged credential that was nonetheless enough to fool ordinary people, was quickly organized and reported.

Although the case involved the forgery of official documents, its source came directly from an illegal economic venue being monitored by the Third Bureau, and it might be linked to a potential underground criminal network. Therefore, according to standard practice, superiors decided that the Third Bureau would continue to follow up and investigate, aiming to unearth the potential forgery chain behind it and the true purpose of its users.

Forging any fake document for an Imperial government department might just be a "case" in the eyes of Clovin, but forging a Clovin credential was a different matter entirely in their eyes.

Clovin's operational style has always been swift and decisive.

Based on the description provided by the thief, a team of Clovin agents in plain clothes, with sharp eyes and swift movements, quickly arrived at the target area—the location where the thief had stolen the fake credential.

According to investigative logic, the characteristics of people appearing in this vicinity were mostly students from the Imperial Industrial University or people with needs on this street; for instance, Lubo Lane was mostly bookstores, so most people coming here had a need to purchase books.

But according to the thief's confession, that person had been eating nearby, so the person's range of activity shouldn't be too large.

So... based on these crowd characteristics, Clovin should first investigate the bookstores, but since it was night, they followed standard procedure and first went to inquire at the inns near Lubo Lane.

This Clovin team began to disperse in pairs to investigate, but soon, at an inn in the middle of Lubo Lane called "Youth Hostel," they found useful intelligence.

Two agents walked into the inn's lobby, and one of them walked straight to the counter.

The owner of the Youth Hostel behind the counter was looking down, calculating accounts, and only looked up when he heard footsteps.

"Is there something I can help you with?" the owner asked, his tone carrying the habitual weariness of a businessman, though his expression was earnest, assuming the men were there to check in.

The lead agent didn't waste words; he simply took a black credential from his inner pocket, opened it with a fluid motion, and revealed the emblem on the inside that symbolized the iron fist of the Empire—an interlocking sword and shield, with a striking black iron cross star at the hilt.

"Clovin." The agent's voice was steady, not loud, yet it carried an unquestionable power of penetration.

"We need to review all lodging registration records from the recent period."

The innkeeper's face turned pale instantly. In Xiting City, no one didn't recognize this emblem, and no one dared to question the person holding it.

Any form of delay or refusal could invite unimaginable consequences, so he scrambled to pull the thick guest register from under the counter, handing it over with trembling hands.

"It... it's all here, officer, we operate completely legally..." the innkeeper said, his voice laced with obvious panic.

The agent ignored his defense, flipping through the register with swift, meticulous care.

Their eyes were like those of a hawk, quickly locking onto a registration entry for "Nier" that had appeared for several consecutive days; it was clear the individual had been staying there for a long time, unlike the others who would only stay for a single night before leaving the next day.

The room the individual occupied was on the fourth floor, a guest room with a view facing the eastern section of Lubo Lane.