Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

Chapter 122: Interrogation



"Take them inside," Vincent ordered as he turned around.

The soldiers wasted no time. With firm grips on Rourke and Sykes, they guided the two mercenaries forward. The group moved in unison, their boots making soft thuds against the concrete of the helipad as they approached the entrance to the headquarters.

The building loomed ahead, and they were quite familiar with the spot of the building they were heading into. It was the town hall of Ferm. The two tilted their heads to the side, exchanging brief, uneasy glances. They recognized the place, but it was different now. The familiar architecture of the town hall, with its classical stone pillars and wide steps leading to the main entrance, was now surrounded by high fences topped with barbed wire.

The soldiers marched them up the steps, the heavy wooden doors creaking open as they approached. The interior of the building, once a hub of civic activity, had been transformed. The grand foyer, which used to host town meetings and events, now bore the unmistakable marks of a military command center. The walls were lined with communication equipment, maps, and tactical displays, all of which buzzed with activity. Soldiers and officers moved purposefully through the space with focused and serious expressions.

As they were led deeper into the building, the familiar sights only served to heighten Rourke and Sykes's sense of unease. They passed by what had once been the mayor's office, now converted into a strategic planning room. The large windows, once allowing natural light to flood the room, were now covered with heavy curtains, blocking out any view of the outside world.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The group finally came to a halt in front of a reinforced metal door. A guard standing at attention nearby nodded to the team leader, who returned the nod before unlocking the door with a keycard. The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing a stark, utilitarian room beyond.

"Inside," one of the soldiers ordered, giving Rourke and Sykes a firm push forward.

They stepped into the room, their eyes quickly adjusting to the dim lighting. The room was small, with concrete walls and a single metal table bolted to the floor. Two chairs were positioned on one side of the table, clearly meant for them. The air inside was cold, almost sterile, and the only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system.

The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, sealing them inside. The soldiers remained by the door, their expressions unreadable as they kept a watchful eye on the mercenaries. Rourke and Sykes exchanged another glance, their minds racing as they tried to assess their situation. They had been in tight spots before, but this was different. Usually, a holding cell was a crude stone chamber, dimly lit by a flickering torch, with iron bars separating them from the outside world. The walls would be damp, and the air would be thick with the smell of mold and decay, and the only sound would be the distant drip of water or the occasional scurry of rats, but they were nothing like it.

Rourke and Sykes shifted uneasily in their seats. The restraints on their wrists bit into their skin, but the lack of any immediate discomfort from their surroundings only heightened their anxiety. In a way, this modern holding cell was more unnerving than the medieval dungeons they were used to. There was no sense of impending doom, no threats of torture or execution -just the cold, unfeeling efficiency of a system designed to extract information and break down resistance in a way that was almost inhuman.

"Where are we?" Sykes finally muttered, his voice low, as if speaking any louder might provoke the room itself.

Rourke shook his head, his eyes scanning the bare walls. "Somewhere we don't want to be," he replied, his tone grim. "This isn't just a cell-it's a trap, one we can't see all the edges of." Before they could speculate further, the door hissed open again, and Vincent stepped inside. "Gentlemen, welcome to the City of Ferm," Vincent said. He closed the door behind him and took a seat across from Rourke and Sykes. The two mercenaries tensed as he sat down, their eyes tracking his every movement.

Vincent placed a file folder on the table, letting it rest there for a moment as he observed them.

"Now that file is empty but it has your image on it and it will be filled up after our meeting," Vincent broke the silence. "The way you will be treated here in my town depends on how cooperative you choose to be. I don't need to explain what happens to those who refuse to cooperate. This city, as you've probably noticed, operates differently from what you're used to."

Rourke shifted in his seat, trying to ease the tension in his bound wrists. "What do you want from us?" he asked, keeping his voice steady despite the unease gnawing at him.

Vincent's expression remained neutral as he responded, "Information. Tell us about yourselves and why you were loitering around my city."

"We are just passersby!" Rourke answered.

Vincent's gaze bore into Rourke, his skepticism evident. He tapped his fingers on the file folder, the sound echoing slightly in the small room. "A passerby armed with a knife, loitering around a city like this? You'll have to do better than that."

"In these lands, you don't survive without a weapon," he said evenly. "There are wild beasts everywhere. The knife is for protection, nothing more."

Vincent raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "Protection, you say? Then tell me, why did you run?"

Rourke's lips curled into a tight smile, though there was no humor in it. "Anyone would run if they saw a flying metal beast hunting them," he answered smoothly. "We've never seen anything like those machines before. They look like something straight out of a nightmare. You can't blame us for trying to get as far away as possible."

Hearing that answer, Vincent laughed. "Oh my...yeah how could I have missed. You have a point! Damn, you are quite a clever one, aren't you? However, cleverness alone won't get you out of this situation. You see, in my city, we value honesty just as much as intelligence."

Rourke remained silent, his gaze locked on Vincent's, not daring to show any sign of weakness. Sykes shifted uncomfortably beside him, glancing between the two men as tension filled the air.

Vincent leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he regarded the two calmly.

"I'll admit, your story is plausible enough. This world is dangerous, and a knife is a reasonable precaution. But you still haven't explained why you were so close to Ferm. You weren't just passing by, were you?"

Rourke hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding, "We were trying to find a safe place to stay for the night. We didn't know what kind of city this was, so we kept our distance until we could figure out if it was safe to approach. When we saw that flying metal beast, we

were scared..."

"You're lying," Vincent interrupted with a low voice, but the authority in his voice was unmistakable. "I can see through all the deception, Rourke. The way you shift your gaze when you're thinking of your next words, the subtle change in your breathing pattern when you're about to lie, the slight tension in your shoulders every time you think you've come up with something clever."

Rourke's confidence faltered for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a defiant stare. "I told you, we were just trying to stay safe."

Vincent let out a low, humorless chuckle. "You may think you're good at this, Rourke, but I've seen it all before. I've interrogated men far more skilled than you. They all have tells-little signs that give them away. Yours are just more obvious."

Sykes shifted uncomfortably, sensing that their situation was spiraling out of control. "Look, we don't want any trouble," he interjected, trying to defuse the situation. "We were just-"

"Enough," Vincent snapped, cutting him off. "Just tell me the truth."

"We are mercenaries," Sykes blurted

"Mercenaries, huh? Now we're getting somewhere. But mercenaries don't just wander into a city like this without a purpose. Who sent you? What were you hired to do?"

Rourke shot a sharp look at Sykes, who visibly recoiled, realizing he had spoken too hastily. Rourke took a deep breath, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Well...it's too late at this point. We are here because this city was deserted by its locals when they heard of the Flame Dragon threat. We were simply scouting the place to loot the city for resources but we were shocked to see that the city that we knew changed so drastically." Vincent raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "So, you were expecting to find an empty city

ripe for looting."

"Exactly. We had no idea the city had been taken over and fortified. We were just looking for supplies, maybe some abandoned valuables. But then we saw the changes, and, well, you can

imagine our shock."

Vincent leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I can imagine. But you still haven't answered my most important question: Who hired you? I doubt a simple looting mission would bring mercenaries like you all the way here. Someone must have sent you."

"No one hired us."

"So it's the will of your organization huh?" Vincent inferred.