"James Scott, do you know these girls?"
The black-clad Interrogator's voice was low and heavy.
"Uh..." Lorne leaned forward, made a show of studying the trembling girls, then shook his head lightly.
"No."
"But they know you." The Interrogator sneered. Pointing at Lorne, he turned toward the girls and asked coldly, "Tell me-was it him?"
"..." The girls lowered their heads even farther. Huddled tightly together, they said nothing. Only faint sobs and uncontrollable trembling broke their silence.
"Speak!"
The furious shout visibly startled the girls, and utter terror filled their eyes.
"Y-yes... it was him." One girl, who looked the youngest, could not hold out any longer and stammered an answer.
"Y-yes, that's him."
"He's the one... who let us out of the dungeon."
Once the first girl spoke, the others followed, one after another, "identifying" Lorne. They kept their heads bowed the entire time, not daring to spare him another glance, whether out of shame or fear.
He had clearly saved their lives, yet this looked more like they were identifying a monster guilty of unspeakable crimes.
I'm sorry... they said that if we told them, they'd let us go home...
"Tsk." Watching the girls' expressions, Lorne pressed his lips together.
The Mandated Punishers' traditions never changed.
"Officer, there must be some misunderstanding. I swear I really don't know them."
He spread his hands, trying to appear relaxed. "They've definitely mistaken me for someone else! Plenty of people look alike, don't they? Perhaps it's just a coincidence."
"Hmph!" The Mandated Punishers captain observing the interrogation scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery. "You're saying that on the night of the incident, someone who looked exactly like you just happened to 'pass by' the scene at precisely the right time, and just happened to feel charitable enough to rescue all