The dim room was simply furnished: two tables, two stools, one lamp. Yet there were quite a few people inside, seven or eight in all.
Bred knew the room had been deliberately arranged by the Hunter Association's Review Committee. The cramped space was meant to exert invisible pressure on him, followed by threats, inducements, persuasion, and other verbal tactics, ultimately breaking through his psychological defenses, prying open his mouth, and learning the truth behind Nico Swain's death. Hmm... he felt no ripples in his heart right now. He even found it a little funny.
As president of both the Hunter Association and the Review Committee, Netero naturally attended this investigation, but only as an observer. Someone else was truly presiding over it.
A square-faced young man, a Crime Hunter: Mizaistom Nana.
Mizaistom's outfit was rather interesting. His clothes, trousers, and even his horned helmet were patterned like a black-and-white dairy cow. There was even a dark black marking over his right eye.
"Hunter Association, Twelve Zodiacs, Ox," Bred muttered inwardly.
The Twelve Zodiacs were the backbone of the Hunter Association. They consisted of Hunters recognized by successive Hunter Association presidents, assisting with the handling of all sorts of affairs.
The current Hunter Association president, Netero, possessed truly tremendous charisma, and the Twelve Zodiacs admired him immensely. To match their codenames, they spared no effort in changing their names, appearances, and attire, shedding plenty of blood and tears in the process. There were also dissenting oddballs, however. Shack Yak, the former head of the Hunter Association's West Blue branch, was one such person. She was one of the Twelve Zodiacs, Snake.
"Name?" Mizaistom spoke. "I hope you answer seriously, even if some of the questions are boring."
"Bred Hyman."
"Age?"
"Seven, almost eight."
"Place of origin."
"I don't know. As far