At the other interrogation room…
The man whom Lima called "the most disgusting person" was slumped in his chair.
His neat, tailored hair now looked like a thatch of straw on a roof with his head drooping. His grizzled hair made him look like he had aged for 10 more years under the dim light.
Places like the interrogation room seemed to carry an air of coldness. The temperature seemed lower by a few degrees compared to the temperature outside and the atmosphere was tense and dreary.
Generally, when people end up in such places, the police needed not to use intimidation tactics to make them fess up. As long as they were not like those slippery ones or wily old foxes, most would fess up what they did by their own accord.
They would tell the police everything, even those the police didn't know.
They had already planted such subconscious thinking in their heart ages ago. Since there was no room for struggle, why wouldn't they just cooperate?
