"Zoera from the Dog Biting Club?"
"You're right, that's her!"
General Figg Andrew Tibotty gathered the woman's red hair to the back of her head, "Oh God! Zoera! It has only been one night and I already couldn't recognize you!"
Unexpectedly, Zoera had returned with a weak smile. Her attractive features were crumpled together like an old rag stained with blood. Her tall nose was crooked to one side, her left eye bulged forward, and her right eye had gotten so swollen that it appeared nothing wider than a tiny slit.
"Messier, do you really have to do this?" Figg turned to the head of Military Intelligence. It wasn't that he was sorry for the woman, he just felt there wasn't a need for such troubles.
Baron Messier shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't see anything wrong with this. The interrogation has been going on for nineteen hours, but our lady boss here still didn't want to say a word. I think we've wasted our energy in the wrong place!"
