The next day, at noon.
"So, that young man, Fred, still refuses to talk?"
Charlotte frowned, a cigarette dangling from her lips as she looked at the pouting Vill-V.
"Yeah. That guy's willpower is really something else. I can't believe even my Anti-Li Armament 004 couldn't make him talk."
Vill-V sighed. The tool she had invented was, by all accounts, a top-tier interrogation device.
While the method was a bit inhumane, efficiency was her top priority. But to her frustration, even with that, the young man still wouldn't talk.
As for the driver named Hope, it was the same story. He refused to speak, no matter what. After briefly telling his story, he said that unless he could see a man named Stangerson, he would rather die than say another word.
And to make matters worse, Vill-V couldn't use her methods on that particular man.
"A blood tumor... tsk. He should be thankful he has a terminal illness that could kill him at any moment. Otherwise, I'd really make him suffer," Vill-V said, sitting on a chair, her tone filled with undisguised malice.
Even though his experience was a tragedy of the era—his beloved woman taken by the son of a clan elder, his father-in-law shot dead by another of the elder's sons—it had nothing to do with her. She just wanted to uncover Fu Li's secret.
"Oh, my dear Vill-V, I believe that when the law fails to bring justice to the aggrieved, private revenge becomes, from that moment on, a just and even noble act," Charlotte stated, offering her own perspective.
"Yes, yes, my great detective. But you know I don't really feel anything about these things," Vill-V said with a yawn.
"Mm... is that so?" Charlotte replied noncommittally.
She had long since noticed that Vill-V lacked the capacity for empathy. Aside from seeing Charlotte as a rival and affording her a certain degree of respect and friendship, the only person she truly cared about was Fu Li.
As for anyone else... perhaps only a large number of casualties would make her feel any distress, but that day was unlikely to ever come.
After all, in this day and age, it was impossible for a series of devastating, large-scale disasters to break out.
While the two of them were chatting and Fu Li and Watson were slacking off to the side, a woman in a purple formal dress appeared outside the cell, holding a man with his hands tied behind his back.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, I've brought the person you wanted. Stangerson, was it? When I went to grab him, this guy was abusing a low-class prostitute. What a piece of trash."
Irene looked at the man with utter disgust, throwing him heavily to the ground before viciously kicking him in the backside with the pointed toe of her high heel.
In an instant, a sound like a squealing pig echoed through the corridor, making both Charlotte and Vill-V shudder involuntarily.
Fu Li, on the other hand, calmly watched as Doctor Watson rose to intervene.
"Um, miss... isn't what you're doing a bit inappropriate? He's not a criminal, after all..."
"According to an investigation by the DA's intelligence department, this man is responsible for the deaths of at least four civilian girls back in America, and there are likely more."
"Oh... well then. Never mind."
Meeting Irene's icy gaze, Watson gave a few awkward laughs and sat back down next to Fu Li, muttering.
"What a terrifying woman..."
"Heh heh, my friend, relax. Miss Irene is actually a good person."
Fu Li gave a faint smile, defending his subordinate. "She's seen too many things like this in her line of work. In her eyes, scum like him aren't even worth the effort to kill."
"Oh, is that so..." Watson nodded, only half-understanding.
Perhaps because they were both detective's assistants, Watson's relationship with Fu Li had steadily improved over this period, even trending towards becoming good friends of the opposite sex.
At this moment, she propped her head on her hand, curiously observing the unfolding events.
She then saw her friend directly hand Irene three small brocade pouches.
"Here, Irene. These are for Hope."
"Oh, I understand."
Irene made no effort to explain her identity, and Vill-V didn't bother to ask.
They simply looked at each other, then nodded with a smile. Irene then dragged Stangerson by the rope tied around his neck and walked inside.
"Alright, you two great detectives. Do you need to observe?"
"Of course."
"Absolutely."
Vill-V and Charlotte answered in unison and followed Irene into the interrogation room.
As expected, the moment Hope saw Stangerson inside, his entire body began to tremble with rage. Then, as if he had gone mad, he burst into wild laughter.
"Heh heh, Stangerson, Stangerson! Do you remember who I am?"
Hope gritted his teeth, his tone dripping with unconcealed killing intent. As for Stangerson, when he saw Hope, a flicker of surprise crossed his terrified eyes.
"You... who are you?"
"Who am I?! You ask me who I am?" Stangerson sneered, spitting out two names. "Lucy, and Ferrier. Do you still remember those names?"
"When you beat Ferrier to death and dragged Lucy away to that filthy hovel of yours, did you ever imagine this day would come?!"
As he spoke, Hope became more and more agitated. At one point, a stream of blood suddenly gushed from his nose. He then lunged forward, chair and all, towards the terrified Stangerson.
Right now, all he wanted was to use the last of his strength to kill him.
However, things did not go as he wished. Irene took a tranquilizer from the first brocade pouch and, just as Hope charged, she jabbed the needle into his neck.
Then, with a flying kick, she sent Hope crashing to the floor.
The series of movements was swift and fluid. Under the superman-like gazes of Charlotte and Vill-V, Irene casually brushed back her long hair.
"Alright, Hope, calm down. I never said I wouldn't let you have your revenge."
Looking down at the collapsed Hope, Irene spoke like a queen. "But you need to understand, you can only have your revenge when I allow it. When I don't, you will lie there obediently."
"Cough... cough..."
Hope coughed up a mouthful of blood and tried to struggle again, but he had already been tied up again by Irene and thrown in front of the interrogation chair.
Stangerson received the same treatment as Hope.
In Irene's eyes, they were both murderers. It was just that someone like Stangerson was unworthy of sympathy, while Hope deserved a little.
And the method of showing sympathy was simple: fulfill his wish, and then have him reveal the intelligence without any regrets.
Irene opened the last two brocade pouches, placing a dagger and two vials that looked like potions on the table.
Then, she revealed a stunningly beautiful smile.
"Alright, Mr. Hope. I now permit you to make a choice. Will you take this knife and give him a quick end, or will you choose to use these two potions?"
"One of them contains poison, and the other does not. Just as you did when you killed that scum Drebber, you can let heaven decide the multiple-choice question."