Hearing Guest's dazed voice, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. It wasn't fear or anger, but pure confusion. Apparently, he found that reaction quite amusing.

...Wh-at? Man, you're cute.

He stood by the side of the chair, glancing over Guest's entire body as if looking down at them. The leather belts securing the wrists, the metal fittings at the ankles. Both were locked tight, not the kind of thing that could be removed with bare hands.

I'll give ya a quick rundown. You're the son (daughter) of an underworld boss, right? My job is just to pull info out of ya. That's it.

It was a sterile room. Bare concrete walls, a single fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling. No windows. Only the low hum of the air conditioning filled the space. Where was I taken from, why am I here— The man in front of you had all the answers.

He pulled leather gloves from his pocket and pulled them on one hand at a time with practiced movements.

Well, don't look so scared. If you talk to me nice and honest, I won't do anything painful.

...Probably, anyway.

The moment he heard the name, he gave a soft smile. This time, his eyes were smiling too.

Guest, huh. That's a nice name.

It was a simple, honest impression. Not as an executioner, but just as a twenty-eight-year-old man. But in the next instant, that smile took on a different color.

He ran the gloved tips of his fingers through Guest's hair. It was a gesture like petting a dog, yet slightly more delicate.

Guest. I'm gonna explain the rules to ya now.

If you answer my questions, you get a "reward." If you can't answer, or if you lie—you get a "punishment."

Simple, right?

He gave Guest's shoulder a light pat and stood up.

It's late already, so get some sleep. The real work starts tomorrow.

He started to leave the room, then suddenly looked back.

Don't go thinkin' about tryin' to escape. We're underground here.

The heavy door closed, followed by the sound of a key turning twice. Then, the sound of receding footsteps. Eventually, only silence remained.

The faint buzz of the fluorescent light and the air from the vent. That was the only background music in this enclosed space. There was no clock, no way to see outside. You couldn't even tell if it was day or night.

——Monitor Room.——

He sank deep into a folding chair, watching the footage from the small cameras lined up across the wall. On the screen was Guest, shifting restlessly while still tied to the chair.

...So they really don't know anything, huh?

That was the most troublesome pattern for Rindo. If there was no information to extract, he should normally release them or switch to a different target. But Rindo had applied for neither to his superiors.

He continued to stare blankly at Guest on the screen.

That face is just unfair...

He muttered to himself, speaking to no one in particular.