Chapter Eight: Still Interrogating, Still Interrogating

The scene fell into a brief silence.

Kletina looked at Mino, momentarily at a loss for words.

Mino’s expression grew serious as he caught on. “I see. Not letting me eat... is that part of your interrogation tactics?”

Kletina was silent for a moment before forcing a smile.

“Quite the opposite, Mino. As long as you reveal the information we seek, we will offer you the most delicious food.”

Mino furrowed his brows. “What exactly do you want?”

“The unlocking incantation for the Mage Tower notes managed by Chief Lak. You should know about it, right?”

The Mage Tower notes... Mino felt the deep malice of the demons.

The notes in the hands of Archmage Lak were no ordinary documents; they contained the core magical research of successive Mage Tower chiefs. More importantly, many functions of the Mage Tower could only be activated using the keys recorded within.

Such crucial notes naturally had their unlocking passwords known to only a handful of people.

Mino, trusted deeply by Chief Lak, was no exception.

“If it were just ordinary information, I might consider it. But Lak is both a mentor and a friend to me. I would never betray secrets concerning the Mage Tower.”

Mino raised his head disdainfully.

“As expected...” Kletina showed no surprise.

The Holy Sword Altote buzzed in protest. “Wretched demons, I advise you not to underestimate my lord’s unyielding will. Even if you were to tear him limb from limb, my lord would never speak.”

“Altote, please be quiet.”

Mino’s spine stiffened slightly at the mention of such violent imagery. He cautiously glanced at Kletina’s hands, hoping to see the same bottle of essential oil as during his previous interrogation.

Unfortunately, her delicate, pale hands were empty.

“Don’t misunderstand, brave one,” Kletina said with a light laugh, noticing Mino’s gaze. “This time, it’s not me conducting your interrogation, but...”

She clapped her hands, and a small figure emerged from behind her.

“It’s you,” Mino immediately recognized the demon.

In the corner of the cell stood a petite humanoid figure, her skin pale and smooth like porcelain, fragile and easily shattered. Her cheeks were slightly sunken, and her gray-green eyes seemed clouded with a thin mist, hollow and expressionless.

She wasn’t terrifying but carried a strange kind of eerie charm. Her movements were stiff and awkward, clearly not human.

She was a tiny zombie maid dressed in an old-fashioned black dress.

“The Ninth Demon, Zombie Maid, Fim.”

Fim lifted her head, her vacant eyes fixed on Mino, her maid’s cap slightly askew.

“Please... take care of me,” Fim said in a mechanical monotone, but Mino didn’t dare underestimate her.

On the battlefield, she fought as if she felt no pain, trading blows relentlessly—a truly formidable opponent.

“No matter how difficult the enemy, my answer remains unchanged. I will not yield to your interrogation. If you have the ability, then try.”

Mino felt confident; he didn’t believe a detached zombie could devise cruel interrogation methods.

“Very well... then I shall begin,” Fim said slowly.

[Notification — Interrogation task generated.]

The message entered Mino’s mind.

[Phase One: Submit to interrogation by the Ninth Demon, Fim.]

[Reward: A secret item from the Demon King’s military officers.]

“Couldn’t ask for more,” Mino’s fighting spirit ignited.

These fiends had gone to great lengths to extract information from him, never imagining their secrets would soon fall into his hands. This would be the first step toward humanity’s victory over the demons!

“My lord, be careful! I will cheer you on from the sidelines!” the Holy Sword declared loudly.

Mino paused, slowly turning toward the sword curled in the corner. “Can you be of any help?”

Kletina covered her mouth to laugh softly. “Then let me show you Fim’s interrogation methods.”

She stepped aside, and Mino finally saw a platform burning with glowing red coals behind her.

Sure enough, they were about to get serious. Mino’s expression grew grave.

He then saw Fim, in her maid’s outfit, step toward the “platform” and laboriously place a heavy black iron pot on it.

Huh?

Something felt off about this scene.

Mino observed cautiously until Fim carefully tied an apron embroidered with a cute rabbit pattern around her waist. Then he realized the truth.

“Is this... cooking?”

“Mm, hm.” Fim nodded earnestly. “If... delicious, the meal is made.”

“The brave one will... then reveal the information.”

“Fim is a bit... afraid of fire.”

“But... will try hard.”

The halting words pierced Mino’s ears, and his body trembled, stepping back involuntarily.

Interrogation was... cooking?!

The cell fell silent, then the Holy Sword Altote burst out laughing unabashedly.

“Hahaha! My lord, look! What a clumsy demon!”

“How could they think to exchange cheap food for information that represents human loyalty? Truly, demons are hopeless.”

Fim stood motionless, dumbfounded, glancing helplessly at Kletina.

Her small figure seemed pitiful at that moment.

Mino’s gaze lingered on the cooking fire before her, his eyes reflecting a complex mix of emotions, as if stirred by a distant memory.

Meanwhile, Altote continued:

“Let me tell you all, demons!”

“This brave soul before you, Mino Rek, the strongest hero in human history, once endured over a month in the western desert, battling a dragon, surviving solely on the poorest rye bread without any supplies!”

“During that time, he neither ate nor cared for any delicious food.”

“Ah,” Fim’s hollow eyes flickered for the first time, her voice trembling slightly. Her hands, clad in lace cuffs, folded timidly over her chest. “That must have... been very hard.”

Mino said nothing, his shoulders trembling slightly, as if silently acknowledging Altote’s praise.

“Hmph! What’s that to me?!” Altote grew even more confident. “Moreover, during the so-called Hell Difficulty Sword Saint Trials, my lord survived a whole year on just rye bread alone, outlasting all competitors and becoming the youngest Sword Saint in history!”

Kletina couldn’t help but quip, “Shouldn’t that be the Sword Saint with the strongest stomach in history?”

The boast struck a chord deep within Mino, his throat moving noticeably.

“So, a mere zombie maid,” Altote declared disdainfully, “your food will have no effect on my lord.”

Fim’s eyes dimmed slightly, and she lowered her head like a child who had done wrong.

At that moment, Mino’s deep, complex voice emerged, trembling slightly.

“Truth be told, I never found eating rye bread to be a happy thing...”