Sherlock Holmes

In Watson's concept, interrogation is a showdown between the executioner and the tortured.

Although in this duel, the executioner has some natural advantages because he is the one who inflicts pain, but if the victim ignores the pain, then the executioner's advantage will disappear all of a sudden, and even become The most helpless and humble one.

This is similar to competing with a cripple and losing in the end. The loser will undoubtedly feel extremely disappointed, self-denial, and disgraced. He or she will have to wear a mask when going out for fear of being recognized by others.

During the interrogation, this negative psychological impact will also increase exponentially.

So when Sherlock couldn't hold back his laughter, the mentality of the interrogator in front of him was instantly controlled by the other party. Naturally, there was uncontrollable anger, but it was just like what Sherlock said. , he seemed to have no other choice but to press the button, which caused him to turn around suddenly and reach out his hand, but his fingers were hanging on the button, unable to press it.

This scene once again made Sherlock laugh uncontrollably.

No one knew what kind of self-struggle the torturer was going through in his heart at this moment. In short, after a few seconds, he still fiercely pressed the power button!

In an instant, a huge electric current directly penetrated every muscle and nerve in Sherlock's body, and ended his harsh ridicule.

Time passed by minute by minute, and the torture was endless again and again.

One hour passed and ten hours passed

Then three days, five days, seven days.

But to everyone's surprise, this completely unfair battle turned into a unilateral massacre of the torturers. Groups of torturers couldn't hold on any longer. They walked out of the room with pale faces, just like All weak losers who feel ashamed of themselves.

During this period, Sherlock naturally withstood the most cruel torture test. At this time, he was half naked. Those brightly colored wires were no longer connected to patches, but simply clamped on some long needles and penetrated deeply. Sherlock's body was penetrated by a strong electric current, and the bloody muscle lines under his skin could be clearly seen. Along with the uninterrupted beating, it caused pain that ordinary people could not even imagine, and some infusion tubes were damaged. It was implanted in his blood vessels, and muscle relaxants were continuously injected into it to prevent him from getting any chance to resist.

Since entering this room, he has not slept again. Even if he loses consciousness, he will quickly open his eyes due to the awakening injection. His body should have been pushed to the abyss of collapse by drugs and torture. But people didn't understand why he still didn't give in. Even under this pain, he could slightly raise his head and look at the executioners standing in front of him with his scarlet bloodshot glasses.

An official wearing white rubber gloves looked at Sherlock on the chair and waved to the subordinates beside him to increase the current of the electric shock instrument. However, he thought that the current had already been adjusted to this machine as early as yesterday afternoon. The designed upper limit made him take a deep breath again to calm his already anxious heart.

He had no sympathy for the defector who had traveled through the cracks in time and space before him, but after these days of torture, he actually felt a little bit of awe for the person in front of him.

He believed that if he were to sit on this chair, he would not be able to hold on by the early morning of the fourth day at the latest.

"At first, I thought I could make you surrender quickly, so I didn't introduce myself. Now I apologize to you. Your willpower is stronger than anyone I imagined."

The torture officer in front of him arrived here on the third day. Since then, he has never left this room, nor has he slept for a moment. It can be seen from the attitude of the people around him that his The level is obviously the highest in this room.

At this time, he took off his mask, revealing a face that looked like it had been soaked in sulfuric acid, then walked towards Sherlock and looked directly into his eyes: "I am the Torture Section of the [Survivor Federation] Director, I have no talents worth showing off in my life. I have just been studying how to make people well-behaved or desperate. There once was a mutated wild bear that could not withstand my training and killed itself in this room. , you don’t think that your willpower is stronger than a cognitively impaired beast.”

"." Sherlock did not speak, but closed his eyes slightly, enjoying this rare rest time.

Seeing the other party's attitude, the torture officer clenched his hands so tightly that even with the gloves on, his nails dug deeply into his hands:

"Okay, it looks like I talked about a boring topic." He reached out and turned on the strong light next to the chair, then positioned it so that it shone directly on Sherlock's face, which had already been filled with shocking blood marks due to long-term electric shocks. .

"Actually, you should know that you have no hope at all. Please don't hold on any longer, let alone think about how to escape, because in the whole world, you have no allies and no one will help you!"

"Ha" Sherlock said nothing, or laughed softly.

The cheeks of the interrogator in front of him slowly swelled due to clenching. He let go of his hand and let Sherlock's head hang weakly. He had been here for more than 90 hours, sleepless, but there was nothing. A little receipt of goods and a moment of recollection made this official who had been immersed in torture for decades feel depressed again.

He couldn't hold himself any longer and kicked Sherlock's thigh hard!

Wow~

The special chair made a sound of steel colliding.

The interrogation officer looked at the infusion tube on the other person's arm and made sure it had not fallen off. He subconsciously licked his lips. He once again thought about the defector from more than 30 years ago recorded in the confidential documents and the behavior that person showed. Incredibly powerful combat power, tearing apart walls made of pure steel with bare hands, and smashing through tanks with brute force. Although he has never seen those scenes, the remaining videos and text descriptions on some monitors are enough to make anyone A person is afraid.

And if the person in front of him didn't have constant muscle relaxants, how could he dare to stand so close to him?

Perhaps this angry kick revealed his anxious heart, and the corners of Sherlock's mouth raised slightly again, not too much, but full of sarcasm.

After seeing this small detail, the torture officer did not continue to be angry:

"Okay, I admit that I can't stand it anymore." He said solemnly: "I think that since you were born on the other side of the crack, your brain must have been damaged by breathing the air over there for a long time. Some physical variation or deformity!

This deformity puts you beyond the limits of what a normal human being can tolerate. Well, you have exceeded my expectations, and by a lot.

But you have to admit, you don't have any hope! There will always be a moment when you can’t hold it any longer!

That being the case, why are you still suffering here in vain?

Wouldn't it be nice to give in nicely, tell us what we want to hear, and then let us kill you in peace? "

Listening to the other party's suppressed emotion tone, Sherlock raised his head again:

"Is there any cigarette?"

"What?"

"Smoking is something that has been outlawed in your civilization."

The director of the torture department perked up: "You mean of course we have cigarettes. They are definitely more delicious than the ones you have smoked. As long as you tell me what I want to hear, you can smoke one comfortably."

Fortunately, Sherlock said something, otherwise, the torture expert felt that he really couldn't hold it any longer. For a moment, he even felt that even if he stood here for another whole year, the bastard in front of him would be... Will not give in.

However.

"Oh, you misunderstood, I didn't want to reveal anything to you, I just wanted a cigarette literally.

After all, you haven't come up with anything new for such a long time. I'm a little bored and want to smoke one. "

"." The master of the torture department was silent. The excited expression on his face seemed to have frozen, leaving only his red glasses. He took a few deep breaths, rubbed his hair a few times, and then roughly untied his collar. Open, and started pacing in place:

"Damn it! Damn you!"

None of the other subordinates in the room dared to speak. They never imagined that this man in extreme pain could defeat so many interrogators, and now, even the director of the entire torture department was the first to collapse.

They saw their director pacing back and forth faster and faster, breathing more and more heavily, and finally, completely ignoring the electric current in Sherlock's body, he kicked him in the stomach, thighs, chest, and even raised his fists. He hit the opponent randomly, and then his body trembled due to the electric current, and he fell directly to the ground, but he didn't care at all, and immediately stood up and kicked him again.

"Damn it! Damn it!" He was beating and scolding: "What the hell are you insisting on?!

You are dead, you know you are dead, why are you still persisting! Are you stupid? Are you crazy? ! "

He didn't notice at all that he looked more like a madman than Sherlock at this time.

"Actually, I don't want to sit here and waste time with you." Sherlock suddenly said leisurely: "But as I said a few days ago, I don't like your hospitality.

I am a very curious person, and I have many questions in my mind right now, such as where is this place? Why do you call me a defector? Why do you speak the same language as us? We seem to have had similar civilizations, but why are we separated by the gate of hell?

Originally, we could have sat down and chatted, but you kept me here. "

"So what if I handcuff you?" The torture director in front of him glared at Sherlock ferociously. His face, which had not rested for nearly 100 hours, looked extremely haggard and terrifying. He beat Sherlock harder and harder, until he almost lost all his strength: "You are a defector. The fact that you are still alive is the greatest kindness to you. What qualifications do you have to say: "Sit down and have a chat." Talk about this kind of thing?!"

Blood burst out from the wounds on Sherlock's body. He began to cough, and a large amount of blood flowed from the corners of his mouth, but he looked at the hysterical man in front of him as if he were watching a performance.

"What are you doing! Are you insisting! What!!!!" the torture director yelled crazily.

"Director, please calm down." Others in the room hesitated for a while, and finally reminded: "The president's order is to execute him in a week and videotape the whole process. If he dies here now, what else can we do? Explain?"

When the almost crazy interrogator heard this, he seemed to realize that his behavior was a little irrational. He breathed heavily and buried his fingers in his hair, like a student who had failed an exam and was standing in front of his home.

"Of course I have my reasons for persisting, but you are not qualified yet."

"What?!" He didn't expect Sherlock to answer his question, but he didn't understand the answer: "You mean qualifications? What qualifications?"

at this time

With a creak, the door of the torture room was suddenly pushed open. Standing outside the door was a guard wearing a black explosion-proof suit. After the guard opened the door, he immediately stood sideways by the door and made way for him.

Immediately afterwards, Lilith walked in. She was wearing the same white coat as the previous days, but her expression was no longer like that of a doctor. There was an aura of pride and incomparable competence between her brows and eyes.

"It's been a week, has there been any progress?" she asked, while glancing at Sherlock on the chair and frowning slightly, but it was fleeting.

The director of the Communication Department immediately stood up straight, but lowered his head in shame: "Ms. Lilith, we are still working hard, but this guy's willpower is beyond my imagination. Maybe, it will take a few more years." day time."

He said, then looked at Sherlock subconsciously.

But just by looking at it, the director was stunned because he looked at Sherlock and laughed.

The corners of his mouth lifted up little by little, and the crack became wider and wider, pushing open the bloody facial muscles, making it a bit scary to open it.

"Here comes the qualified one." He said weakly.

".?" The director of the torture department didn't understand.

Ms. Lilith didn't know what this meant, so she just frowned.

But the next second.

There was a bang, and for a moment there was a terrifying explosion of steel breaking apart. The iron shackles restraining Sherlock on the chair were broken off, and then a gust of howling wind swept Ms. Lilith's hair into chaos!

A stream of blood soared out in vain in front of her eyes. Under the pale light above her head, it exploded in a coquettish way. The torture director flew out directly and hit the wall behind her. Her chest had completely collapsed into her body, looking extremely miserable, and with the violent sound of the wind, Lilith felt like she was being pulled by a huge force, and she rushed out of the door of the interrogation room.

"I regret to inform you that you are my hostage."