Chapter 2 - Interrogation

Deep within Aldonia's capital's dungeons, a man was chained up with mana-draining chains in the most secure cell.

There was nothing outstanding about this man. At first glance, he had a plain face and was of average build (if one ignored the panic attack the man was going through). The only thing of note were two small tattoos on his body in the detailed shape of a black snake forming curled around what appeared to be a fruit, one on his neck and another on his lower right arm. This was the mark that all members of his organization bore.

*Clack!*

*Clack!*

*Clack!*

The sounds of formal shoe heels hitting the cold floor echoed throughout the dungeon.

Upon hearing the clacking heels, the man uncontrollably shivered in fear.

Evil Cultist Pov:

(How did this happen!)

(This was supposed to be a simple kidnapping job!)

(Even if I somehow got found out and got surrounded, I would have been able to use the princess as a hostage to escape, even if that failed, there's always the option of blowing myself up along with everyone in a ten-meter radius.)

(Yet somehow! That clacking b*stard used magic I couldn't detect and got me in my arm and leg! And it still hurts like hell!)

*Clack!*

*Clack!*

*Clack!*

The footsteps grew louder and louder at a slow but steady pace.

*Clack!*

*Clack!*

*Clack!*

The footsteps stopped, and the door to the cultist's iron door cell slowly creaked open.

And the visage of a young black-haired man in a bespoke grey suit with black gloves and dress shoes stood at the cell's entrance.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here!"

"A little rat who thinks he could kidnap the princess of a weak nation just because he works for some bigshot!"

"Now then!"

The young man gave a sinister grin that sent chills down the cultist's spine.

"You're going to tell me who your employers are, their plans and goals, how many members there are, their locations and where your base is if you want an easy death."

The cultist looked at the monster wearing human skin standing before him with great fear.

(Damnit! Isn't this guy even worse than the organization's Inquisitors!)

(Just who is the evil one here!)

However, the cultist knew that if he spilled the beans, the suited man would kill him. The best he could do was hold out against the interrogation for as long as possible and hope that the upper brass sent someone to rescue him.

"So what's it going to be, criminal?"

The cultist drew a deep breath and yelled,

"GO TO HELL!"

The young man's smile grew even wider at the cultist's response.

"Very well, seems like we have to do this the hard way."

He replaced the black gloves on his hands with thick leather gloves and put on an apron. Then, he pulled a rope that hung from the ceiling, and the sound of curtains parting filled the room. The cultist looked towards where the sound came from, and his face paled at what he saw lined up on the wall.

The young man picked up one of the many torture devices lined up on the wall and walked up to the cultist's face, and spoke,

"Now then, shall we begin?"

1 hour later.

The young grey-suited man walked out of the dungeon and headed towards the castle's throne room to meet with the King to finalize the budget for his new Intelligence Agency.

Spy POV:

"Damn, I was expecting him to die if he spilled his organization's secrets after seeing that suspicious tattoo on his neck. But I hoped he would give away something more than the organization's name before biting the dust."

"Oh well, at least I learned the organization's name, but most of the information and leads I get will be only gossip and rumours. I will need to visit the criminal underworld sometime to get a solid lead after I finalize my organization's budget with his Majesty. Then, I have to scour the country for a good base of operations. Hais, so busy. I have to start a recruitment program to get some employees to take care of the miscellaneous tasks."

"Hmm, the Sons of Satanos. Sounds edgy but also familiar. Where exactly have I heard the name before back in my world?"

As Spy walked through the hallways. He saw a servant facing a dark corner near the cellar entrance of the castle talking to a suspicious person in black robes.

(Bruh, the guy the servant is talking to is obviously an evil cultist. Can they even make it even more apparent.)

(But this makes my job much easier! Though I have to be careful, I can't have these two dying before they give me good information like the guy I had fun with a while ago.)

Spy concealed his presence and moved up close to the pair, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation to learn more of the Sons of Satanos' plans.

He sneaked to the two, sticking close to the wall and its shadows and hid behind a column when he calculated it was too risky to sneak up any further.

Opening his grey suit, he reached in with his black-gloved hand and took out a small black music pocket radio with earbuds.

This small radio was a listening device that allowed you to focus on your target's conversations, letting you obtain classified intelligence and secrets at almost any event or convention due to many people mistaking the user as a bored guest and worth paying attention to.

The downside to this gadget was the earbuds that cancelled out all other noise besides your target's conversation could prevent the user from responding to a sudden like an exploding grenade thrown by a terrorist or a screaming lady crying about her dead husband who just so happened to be the VIP you're supposed to be protecting.

Spy shuddered at the memory of his boss verbally chewing him up for failing to protect the Japanese Prime Minister. How was he supposed to know that some jerk would walk up to the Prime Minister in public with a handmade shotgun and blow his head clean off? He was busy keeping an eye on the Prime Minister's rivals to see if they would pull some dirty trick to get him ousted from the next election, and there were other agents that were working with him, so why didn't they get the same treatment as him!?!

He sighed when remembering his colleagues. Although they were a chaotic crowd, they were good people to hang around. Especially Benny and Shizu. God, how he missed them.

(When I get back, I'm going to treat them all to a full-course five-star meal at the best restaurant in Japan.)

If Spy's teammates had seen his thoughts just now, they would have fainted in shock from how this money-pincher was willing to spend money on useless luxuries.

(Hey! Get a hold of yourself! Now's not the time to get sentimental!)

Spy shook himself out of his thoughts and focused on the two cultists in front of him.

(Let's get down to it.)