Chapter 184: Interrogation

At 10:15 AM, Song Cheng arrived once again at the containment zone holding high-risk prisoners.

A pure white, undecorated corridor stretched into view, with bright lights falling evenly from the ceiling; at regular intervals along both sides of the corridor, rings of dark red lights were embedded in the walls, ceiling, and floor. Fully armed guards stood alert at the T-junctions at both ends of the corridor, while numerous sensors, monitors, and sentry weapons were hidden inside the extensive alert modules on the ceiling.

Along the corridor, a heavy gate could be seen every few meters; above some of these gates, green lights glowed, while above others, the lights shone a glaring, vivid red.

This was one of the Special Operations Bureau's highest-level "prisons," specifically designed to detain the most dangerous and most escape-prone "humanoid prisoners." Those qualified to enter here were either criminals who had already caused major destruction in the Borderlands and were awaiting trial, or dangerous individuals posing such a massive potential threat that releasing them would warrant a joint manhunt by seven or eight factions.

Angel cultists were, of course, very suitable for confinement here.

Song Cheng arrived before a gate at the end of the corridor, glanced at the light on the door and the information displayed on the screen on the adjacent wall, then nodded to the containment zone guard following him: "How is that guy's condition?"

"Calm, no activity records, no attempts at self-harm or escape," the armed guard, clad in full armor with his face hidden behind a heavy mask, mumbled. "Except for necessary eating, drinking, and excretion, the prisoner has been sitting in that chair, seemingly engaged in prolonged meditation."

"Any reactions from the mental monitoring and barrier devices?"

"All security systems are operating normally; we can confirm the prisoner cannot communicate with any hidden entities or contact accomplices," the armed guard continued. "We monitored several movements resembling silent prayers, but detected no supernatural power manifestations; those were likely just simple acts of prayer."

"Hmm," Song Cheng nodded slightly, then added, "What about the other one?"

"Held separately in Sector B. The situation there is the same as here: the prisoner is quiet, silent, and has made no out-of-line moves, but also refuses to cooperate. Several routine interrogations and hypnosis sessions failed to loosen their tongues—honestly, the mental barriers of these 'cultists' are indeed quite resilient."

"That's normal; after all, they believe in that thing. Sometimes it's not that their mental barriers are resilient, but that these lunatics simply don't possess normal human minds anymore—but we still have to interrogate them," Song Cheng said, letting out a breath. "Open this door; I want to have another 'chat' with the guy inside."

"Understood," the armed guard nodded, stepping forward to operate the gate's locking mechanism. "One hour for the exchange. During this time, all security systems will be highly sensitive. Please ensure your safety and control your emotional fluctuations."

Moments later, a gradually deepening humming sound emanated from inside the heavy gate, accompanied by the hissing of mechanical pressure release. Along with a soft system chime, the silver-white alloy door slowly slid open to both sides, revealing the "room" inside used to detain prisoners.

A semi-transparent blue "light curtain" divided the cell into two parts. The "outer" side near the gate was completely empty, while the other side of the light curtain held a minimum bed and a chair. Everything in the entire room—including walls, ceiling, and floor—was covered in a tough, slightly elastic material. On the ceiling, several extremely sturdy hemispherical devices could be seen, occasionally emitting red light or humming sounds, carrying a cold and warning tone.

A bald man, tall and thin, wearing white prison clothes with his neck and hands controlled by some advanced restraint device, sat quietly on that gray-white chair, staring expressionlessly at the bare wall opposite him.

The heavy gate closed behind him. Song Cheng approached the light curtain, placed his hand on its surface, and after a few breaths, the light curtain vanished. He walked straight toward the prisoner sitting in the chair—one of the two captured Angel cultists.

The bald prisoner finally withdrew his gaze from the bare wall, looked up at Song Cheng, his eyes devoid of sorrow or joy, so calm it seemed he had transcended all worldly emotions and desires.

"You are here again," the Angel cultist said lightly. "A pitiful person trapped in a cage."

"In your eyes, I am trapped in some cage, correct? You view the real world as a cage—and your Lord is trapped in another cage," Song Cheng paid no heed to the offense in the other's words, speaking expressionlessly. "Look at yourself again; you too are trapped in a cage."

"I am indeed temporarily confined here, but I enjoy a freedom and tranquility far beyond your understanding," a faint smile appeared on the cultist's face. "And my Lord, His 'confinement' is a far more sublime 'suffering.' He will eventually break free from the bonds as promised and descend into this wretched mortal world. At that time, the devout shall be blessed, and people like you, so dull, will naturally receive suffering befitting your nature."

Song Cheng remained unmoved, a hint of curiosity appearing in his eyes: "I suddenly find myself a bit concerned. You and your companion, which 'Angel' exactly do you follow? As far as I know, there are many Dark Angels, and Angel cultists are actually divided into many sects; some worship several simultaneously, while others steadfastly follow only one... Which one do you believe in?"

"You begin to show curiosity toward my Lord. In the form of an interrogation, you seek to learn my Lord's secrets from me. Then you will gradually reveal interest in our faith, seeking more teachings from me. After that, you will act as if moved, even beginning to actively listen to those 'voices.' A few days later, or perhaps more cautiously, ten-odd days later, you will appear as a 'trainee' privately influenced by my Lord, as if you were one of us."

The Angel cultist spoke calmly, as if describing a series of events that, though not yet occurred, had already become past facts in his "observation," while gazing into Song Cheng's eyes.

Then, his body leaned forward slightly: "I will lower my guard on the seventh or eighth day, and in the process reveal too many secrets concerning my Lord and my brethren to you. And you, you will tell these secrets to your superiors. Save your effort; the scent of the rationality blocker is already seeping out of your pores."

Song Cheng's expression remained unchanged, seemingly having no reaction at all to this cultist's "exposure." He fell silent for a few seconds, then a smile appeared on his face: "Not bad. It seems you have quite a bit of experience—but your companion's experience is rather average." "Oh, so it's the second path. You separated us to make us doubt the other's loyalty and devotion," the Angel cultist shook his head. "Your methods are simpler than I imagined."

Song Cheng stared tightly at this "Angel cultist" before him, who appeared devoid of sorrow or joy, as if already freed from the various weaknesses binding mortals. The other's smooth, bald head now looked particularly glaring and unpleasant.

Moments later, he let out a light breath and sat down directly on the nearby bed.

"It doesn't matter. We still have plenty of time. I am indeed not an interrogation expert, but more professional people will come to complete this work. As for now... let's just chat. Purely chat."

One hour later, the cell gate opened, and Song Cheng walked out from inside.

Fully armed guards approached from the side: "Did you get anything out of him?"

"Still the same damn thing as last time, his mouth is as hard as anything. I even suspect that if the world really ended one day and the universe was about to explode, these Angel cultists would still have their two lips sticking there, living as long as heaven and earth," Song Cheng cursed without any decorum while pulling a cigarette from his pocket and placing it in his mouth. "And this one seems to have some special ability to deduce the 'course of events' following any word or action of mine. No wonder the previous interrogation experts couldn't do anything with him."

"... A 'Prophet'?"

"Hard to say. I've never heard of a 'Prophet' running around becoming an Angel cultist. And if he really were a Prophet, how could he have been caught so easily by us? I think this guy is more likely influenced by the 'Angel' behind him, gaining some kind of clairvoyant power... I've really had bad luck."

The armed guard listened silently, reaching out to stop Song Cheng just as he was about to light his lighter: "... Leader, smoking is not allowed here."

After looking at the...

Song Cheng paused, his expression awkward, and put the lighter and cigarette away again.

Just then, the mobile phone in his pocket suddenly rang.

Pulling out the phone, Song Cheng instantly reined in the anger that had been on his face a second ago. He quickly answered while forcing a smile onto his face: "Hey, Director? No, no, I just happened to have some free time. Go ahead, go ahead... Ah?"

Song Cheng's expression suddenly became a bit strange. He listened to a few sentences on the phone, then spoke hesitantly: "Tell him... is that appropriate? If we let him get involved... after all, he's not internal personnel of our Special Operations Bureau, right?... Alright, since that is your judgment, I'll give him a call."

After hanging up, Song Cheng stared blankly at the screen, his mood seeming somewhat subtle.

The armed guard nearby was looking over here curiously through his protective visor.

Song Cheng waved his hand, signaling the guard to wait for the moment, then took his phone and walked aside. After a moment of hesitation, he dialed a number.

After a brief wait, a voice came from the receiver: "Hello? Captain Song?"

"Ahem, Yu Sheng," Song Cheng coughed twice. "I have something to tell you—do you remember those two Angel cultists you provided clues about earlier? The Special Operations Bureau caught them. Our Director asked me to ask you: do you have any interest..."

Before he could finish speaking, an hurried voice came from the receiver: "Yes!"

Song Cheng paused: "Uh... alright, I'll bring someone to pick you up..."

"Send someone to pick me up at Level 54-1/2. I have already arrived."

(End of Chapter)