CHAPTER 975: CHAPTER 168: LU LI’S BELIEVERS

"The fog tide and eternal night are expected to last for about three more days... Nonsense."

The young interrogator rustled the newspaper aside dismissively and said, "My cousin in the navy told me they all returned to the port for defense, and the shells piled on the docks can almost drown the harbor, as are the monsters in the fog. Didn’t Fenter just come back from above? He said the cannon fire at the port is still going on. This disaster will last at least another week. Those creatures won’t miss such a good opportunity."

"The press never tells the truth," his colleague agreed, leaning back on a wooden chair with his legs on another chair.

"Not really..." The young interrogator found himself speaking in defense of the press and even the higher-ups. "It’s probably the demand of those city council members. If the citizens knew the Harsh Winter Season was going to last that long, they’d be unable to resist coming out to search for food. Chaos ensues, citizens get polluted, become abnormal, get swayed by the heretics, and then boom—"

As he mimicked the sound effect and spread his hands to simulate an explosion, the young interrogator suddenly heard a clear and dull noise.

Boom!

The iron door slammed open.

The young interrogator and his colleague hurriedly stood up.

"Captain!"

Barentin burst into the room, ignoring their disheveled appearance and the toppled wooden chair, and asked, suppressing the urgency in his breath from the rush, "Where are the prisoners from the Shadow Church?"

"They’re still locked in the cells, nothing has happened!" The young interrogator snapped his legs together, puffing out his chest as he responded.

"Any new intel from the interrogation?"

"Uh... not yet."

Despite the fact that the results of the interrogation had just been sent over minutes ago, the young interrogator knew no superior wanted to hear such an excuse: "These filthy heretics have always been resolute... and we’ve been torturing them all day. If we continue the interrogation, they’ll die."

"There’s no time, we need to break them immediately."

Captain Barentin glanced at the clock on the table.

"What’s happening?" another interrogator couldn’t help but ask.

Barentin didn’t hide it, observing the expressions of his two subordinates: "The mayor is here. Someone leaked that we captured the heretics from the Shadow Church... The boss temporarily tricked them. We have at most less than twenty minutes."

Both interrogators simultaneously displayed fear and panic—they were all too aware of the consequences if city hall discovered their secret operations.

"Is there a traitor?" The young interrogator clenched his teeth.

"I don’t know... but that’s irrelevant now," Barentin withdrew the scrutiny in his gaze. "Being discovered is a fact. We need the intel before they arrive."

"But—"

Barentin interrupted his subordinate: "We’ll have to use special methods."

"Special interrogation? But we’ll need to apply to the armory—"

"Not that."

Barentin interrupted again, walking toward the heavy iron door engraved with ancient markings: "Open the cell door."

"The armor..."

His subordinate pointed to the protective suits hanging on the wall.

"No need."

The iron door was slowly pushed open, revealing the cold and damp depths of the cell, and the silhouette hanging on the iron rack.

At the edge of the cell were enough instruments of torture to make even the bravest warrior beg for mercy, heavy shackles layered in bindings, and the cloak on that chest had long been shredded, with the body covered in ugly, horrifying scars.

Most of these injuries were not inflicted by them.

But rather from the self-mutilating beliefs of the Shadow Church believers.

"A bunch of lunatics..."

Barentin cursed under his breath upon seeing this scene.

Heretics.

Always the hardest and easiest to deal with.

They abandoned raw, crude primal power, choosing instead the polluted power derived from their faith.

When the entity of their faith is alive and strong enough, each heretic becomes a walking source of pollution. Even the most trained warriors of the tribunal exposed to the pollution will fall into an abyss due to those sinister whispers, and their faith drives them to hold fanaticism until death.

Thus, compared to heretics, everyone preferred ghouls or Rhine Maggots, the anomalies that could be resolved with shells and steam armor.

Fortunately, the Shadow Church is one of the many insignificant small churches, and the faith of the "Shadow of the Maiden" has been long gone—The tribunal often dealt with heretics and knew how to make them speak.

This time, however, with limited time, Barentin had to resort to violating methods.

Methods more violating than severe torture and special techniques.

Barentin turned towards the entrance of the dungeon, standing with his back to the drooped head of the Shadow Church believer, and said to his confused subordinates outside the cell door: "Please have Mr. Luli wait; we’ll inform him of the details after the interrogation."

He turned back and saw the silhouette on the iron rack slowly raising its head.

Barentin made no attempt to hide his disdain as he scolded the heretic, "The great Exorcist has already entered the dungeon. How long do you intend to resist?"

The short, echoing sound faded, and Barentin continued, "Silence is useless. His Excellency Lulian already knows it was you who attacked him."

As his words fell, a hoarse, cryptic murmur slowly echoed through the dungeon.

"That wasn’t... us... we... would never harm... Lord Lu Li..."

A sense of seriousness gradually emerged from the depths of Barentin’s eyes. He continued to sarcastically question, "Do you think we’ll believe that? Will His Excellency Lulian believe?"

"We are... His people... and... his people too..."

"Him? Do you mean Lu Li?" Barentin instinctively inquired.

But the Shadow Church believer fell into a prolonged silence, and Barentin received no answer despite several prompts.

Unable to help himself, he moved a little closer and discovered that the grotesque chest, already bleeding, ceased to heave.

Not sure if they had died, having gained the intel he needed, Barentin exited the dungeon, instructed his subordinates to call for medical aid, and then proceeded to the cell holding another heretic.

This time, he changed his tone.

"A bunch of fools, you should have told us earlier."

Barentin satirically eyed the figure, awakened on the iron rack: "If you had known Lu Li’s relationship with the Shadow Church, you wouldn’t have had to suffer this."

"Lord Lu Li...?"

This human believer was in better condition and had more to say.

"If not because of His Excellency Lulian, would I come here to find you stinking fellows?" Barentin continued the taunt.

"Does His Excellency know the truth...?"

The heretic’s voice held hidden delight.

"Indeed."

Barentin’s slow murmur echoed through the dungeon.

"After all, who would have known that a malevolent spirit would have a connection with an Exorcist?"

Human believers were naturally willing to sacrifice their lives for faith, but if they were companions, why needless sacrifice?

"Then can I leave here...?" he couldn’t help but ask.

"Yes, and soon. You won’t have to wait too long..."

Barentin smiled, signaling his subordinate to close the dungeon.

The slowly closing iron door gradually obscured those eyes once again lit with hope.

"Is all this true?" The young subordinate felt parched.

"’Evidence always ensnares the killer,’ doesn’t it?"

Barentin recited a proverb known to all interrogators.

"The great Exorcist believed by heretics... The boss will love this piece of intel."