By this point in interrogation, Michael was getting visibly tired. The stimulant's powers weren't endless, and his wounds were nonlethal, but bad enough.
"I did. I was praying when it descended upon me—the answer to all my prayers and questions. My faith had never been brighter than upon this day…"
Tristan nodded.
He still had around fifteen minutes before the truth serum would stop working. He could use it to get the least important information out of the man.
"Why do you have so much hate for celebrities, anyway? Did some celebrity girl refuse to go on a date with you, or what?" Tristan asked.
It was a shot in the dark, but the way Michael flinched, Tristan knew it connected way more precisely than either of them expected.
Michael thrashed in his bounds, spitting saliva and almost foaming at the mouth as he shouted.
