As Irish listened to his confidant relay the message, he kept his eyes fixed on the murderer.
A rabid fan like this should not have been able to resist the temptation of meeting his idol. Besides, since the murderer believed Uzo would leave behind no evidence of his crimes, even if he revealed a little information, it would not affect that idol.
Yet the murderer's reaction had nothing to do with the "surprise," "inner conflict," or "guilty but tempted" response Irish had expected.
The man showed no joy whatsoever. His voice contained only disdain, pity, and a hint of displeasure at being underestimated.
"Stop wasting my time. You should go see a psychiatrist first—how many times do I have to emphasize this? I planned this case myself and carried it out personally! No one gave me inspiration, and no one gave me ideas. This brilliant method was entirely my own invention.
"And that so-called 'idol' you mentioned? Hmph. Only weaklings need idols. Someone like me only needs to become other people's idol. Your irresponsible questions are an insult to my abilities!"
"..."
It seemed he had no intention of revealing anything at all.
Irish finally lost his patience and nodded to his confidant.
Hashimoto Maya was deeply unwilling, but he rose with crisp efficiency. Like a cold-blooded killer, he walked behind the murderer, seized him by the throat, and slammed him face-down onto the table.
Various restrictions made the most effective interrogation methods difficult to use. But after so many years in the Organization, they certainly did not lack methods that left no marks while making the target suffer unbearably.
After a thorough roughing-up, the murderer's arrogant attitude wilted.
After all, he was merely a pampered little second generation, raised in comfort and smooth sailing, with hardly any setbacks