"Drip, drip," the other person's pants were wet, it was obvious that he wasn't much of a zealot, being scared enough by Deep's words to wet himself.
"Very well, we've made a great start. Now tell me, what do you know about the World Crown?" Deep slowly pulled the sock from the man's mouth.
"I don't know what you're talking about. All those rich people on the World Crown died out long ago!"
"Wrong answer." With a cruel smile, Deep inserted the Black Thorns into the man's fingernail. With a slight flick, the man's fingertip turned into a bloody mess.
Deep knew that when interrogating criminals, the goal was to make them quickly spill the truth; sometimes, a little pain could create more psychological pressure than cutting off hands or feet.
