Darkstone Code

Chapter 1357: Chapter 1356: Interrogation

From the moment a person is born, they are filled with questions.

Among the many questions, the most classic one is none other than the question "Who am I?"

The search for self-knowledge has always been the ultimate pursuit of philosophers, but in a situation like this, when Koskao posed this question, it shed some of its academic flavor and took on a more austere, forbidding tone.

The Major looked at him. "You’re a Professor at the university. You should understand the laws of the Empire better than other people."

"Sometimes, given the nature of our work, mere suspicion is enough!"

The Major walked to stand opposite him, next to his wife.

He pinched the jaw of Koskao’s wife and lifted her head.

He cast a sidelong glance at Koskao’s wife, then turned his gaze back to Koskao. "I don’t know who you are. From the evidence we’ve collected, there’s nothing wrong in your record. The only thing worth questioning is your time studying abroad in Sedolas."

"You’d best keep that question for yourself and then answer me, instead of asking me."

"At the very least, that way you and your family can preserve the most basic semblance of dignity."

After a long silence, Koskao adjusted his glasses. "I’m not ’someone else’. I am Koskao."

The Major nodded. "It seems you’re unwilling to cooperate. In that case, I’m sorry, Professor Koskao. You may come to hate me and everything I’m about to do, and at the same time I hope you can understand me."

"Because everything I do is for His Majesty the Emperor, for the Empire!"

The Major took a deep breath and looked at the others. "Take them all away. Seal this house completely and search every inch of this place!"

The crowd that had gathered by the roadside scattered quickly once they saw the homeowner being escorted out.

At the headquarters of the Confidential Bureau, Koskao saw the old cobbler.

The two of them exchanged a glance, then looked away. Koskao had originally thought that the old cobbler had betrayed him, but now it seemed this matter had nothing to do with the old cobbler; the problem must have been with a higher-level line.

His guess was not actually wrong, but it was not entirely right either. Ever since Peng Jieao’s war machine had begun to slowly turn and then gradually speed up, this war-savvy nation had started, in accordance with past experience, to purge internal problems.

The first step was to screen for spies. There are only two ways for any intelligence to be sent out.

The first is via radio broadcasting signals outward, which is why in every city, even in remote areas, there are people constantly patrolling.

Once they discover an unofficial telegraph in operation, they will trace the source of the transmission, then conduct arrests or executions.

The second method is to smuggle the intelligence out of the country by various means of concealment.

This method... to be honest, is a bit stupid, because once war is about to break out, Peng Jieao and the Allies will cut off contact with other countries.

Even if they don’t cut it off, those who attempt to enter the territory of hostile powers will be placed under intense surveillance.

And if this intelligence is forwarded to other allied states of Peng Jieao, the problems it encounters will be more or less the same.

These pieces of intelligence may never have the chance to circle the globe and reach where they’re supposed to go.

If one had a boat and could slip out by sea, there might be a sliver of possibility?

But such scenarios only appear in film and television. Small boats are easy to hide, but small boats can hardly cross an ocean.

Big ships don’t have much trouble crossing, but big ships cannot remain concealed.

The Navy of Peng Jieao is no match for the Navy of Gafura, but dealing with a mere smuggling boat wouldn’t be a problem for them.

This time the problem arose at the final link. They tried to get the intelligence out, but failed, and in the process exposed two Special Agents.

One of them couldn’t withstand the torture and ultimately revealed quite a bit of information; as a result, one line was completely dragged into the open.

The people of Peng Jieao have a very strong sense of belonging to and pride in their state. When the Confidential Bureau asked the young cobbler’s apprentice whether there had been anything unusual lately, and he mentioned that someone had asked him to make crocodile leather shoes, everything was over!

On the very night Koskao was brought in, he was taken out for questioning.

When the Major’s fist slammed into his face and shattered his nasal bone, some old, sealed-off memories began to surface.

He remembered... the training he had once undergone.

By the time things had reached this point, what kept Koskao going was no longer his tolerance for pain, but a strength of spirit!

Those people whose faces had grown blurry in his memory—his parents, his brothers and sisters, his mentors, everyone he had ever known—at this moment, their features became clear again, no longer indistinct.

He cried out in pain, yet there was a hint of joy in his eyes. He had recalled their faces. He had not forgotten them!

The nosebleed came fast and heavy. He slowly raised his head to look at the Major. After the two stared at each other for a moment, the Major, unexpectedly, did not hit him again, but instead had the medics treat his fracture.

A fractured nasal bone can actually be very dangerous. Ordinary fractures are somewhat better, but if a comminuted fracture is caused by a heavy external blow, bone fragments may, during subsequent strikes, embed themselves in or affect brain tissue, causing irreparable injury.

The medic did not administer any anesthetic to Koskao, but cut open his nose, removed the bone fragments inside, and then stitched it up.

The Major continued to torture him; the moment the red‑hot branding iron touched flesh, it sizzled, and under the stench of scorched meat there was a faint, nauseating reek of protein burned and destroyed by high heat.

Koskao screamed hoarsely, struggling, all in vain!

"If you just talk, all of this can be avoided..."

He let out two short laughs; perhaps that was his attitude.

What followed was an even more terrifying torture. They subjected Koskao to electric shocks; that horrifying pain and the uncontrollable convulsions, the body going rigid, left him unable even to scream!

To him at this moment, it was as if he had descended into Hell itself!

"You have no need to conceal anything."

"Your contact has already been dragged out by us. You don’t need to worry that your confession will bring more of your colleagues down. You just have to tell us what intelligence you were trying to send out, and..."

The Major licked his lips. "...the method of writing and decrypting the cipher. Then all of this will be over."

"You will still be a Peng Jieao man, living a happy life with your wife and daughter. No one will ever know what you did!"

"I might even persuade my superiors to award you a special merit decoration..."

Just as the Major had said, when they dragged Koskao out, there were in fact no other intelligence personnel left to be rounded up along his line.

At least from the information they currently had, that was the case. These deep‑cover operatives were almost always connected in a strictly one‑line chain from bottom to top, precisely to avoid unnecessary losses.

What the Peng Jieao people wanted was the method of writing the cipher, the method of breaking it, and the decoding keys for the telegrams.

Once they mastered these, they would not only be able to more efficiently spot certain pieces of intelligence smuggled out in seemingly ordinary items, but could also forge their own intelligence and send it out!

Once war begins, every minute and every second must be contested!

Koskao still kept silent. After tormenting him for a while, they subjected him to water torture.

Water torture may well be one of the most terrifying punishments, because it forces a man to brush up against death again and again!

During water torture, accidental deaths are common—physical exhaustion, depleted strength, or those who have already undergone prolonged interrogation and water torture suddenly failing to draw that one crucial breath happens all the time.

This is where the medics’ role comes in: at the instant the subject stops breathing—in other words, the very moment he has just died—they must snatch him back from the hands of the Death God!

Koskao lay on the platform, layers of pure‑cotton veils covering his face, and the trickling water from the kettle fell onto his forehead.

He could feel the impact of the falling water on him; it wasn’t very strong, but the steadily spreading chill made him instinctively draw in a deep breath.

Water covered his mouth and nose, and he began trying to breathe.

With every breath he drew in a lot of droplets into his nasal cavity, into his mouth, even down into his lungs.

But air—he could barely inhale any at all!

The less fresh air one gets, the more terrified one becomes. With his vision obstructed, his body restrained, and his perception of the outside world reduced to the bare minimum, fear in a man’s heart will swell layer upon layer.

He panted heavily yet could never get anything. After holding out for more than forty seconds, the veil over his face was suddenly ripped away, and Koskao greedily gulped air in great gasps.

Each breath whistled as it came out!

The Major looked at him, and he looked back at the Major. From that brief meeting of eyes alone, the Major knew he had not yet reached his limit.

"Add ten seconds..."

The veil came down again, and that same terror spread out layer by layer, flooding his entire soul!

This time, ten seconds longer than before. In that sense of being on the verge of death, he walked ten more seconds down the road!

Again and again, and on two occasions Koskao truly "died"—he simply stopped breathing.

But the medics quickly dragged him back to life, to continue enduring torture!

Only when the medical team judged that his condition was no longer suitable did he finally gain release from it.

When he entered the interrogation room, he had walked in on his own.

When he came out, he was being wheeled out in a wheelchair.

As he passed the rows of cells in the detention block, pairs of numb eyes fixed on him, without the slightest ripple of emotion.

For several days in a row, they did not continue interrogating Koskao. They knew very well that if they tormented him to death, they would have to find another guy who knew how to write cipher text.

The daily rations were excellent: fresh veal steaks, fresh vegetables, even wine.

A few days later, Koskao was brought into the interrogation room again, but this time, besides him and the people from the Bureau of Secrets, his wife and daughter were also in the room.