Seed of Titan-Chapter 211: Breaking the Unbroken

"Ah, okay. So, are we going to continue or what? It doesn’t make any difference whether I’m hypnotized or not, I’ll still be honest in either case," Drai said.

"I’m not sure if you’re naive or desperate, but it takes more than baseless words to convince us," Sol replied.

"Well, words are all I have now. How else am I supposed to convince you that I’m not guilty?"

"I didn’t say words are meaningless, I said we need more than baseless words."

"Meaning?" Drai asked, not really getting Sol’s point.

"Meaning that we’ll continue, but under a different setting to make sure your words hold weight. Now, how about we move rooms?"

Following this, Luna left her seat and opened a hidden door behind them, and Sol dragged Drai through it.

Drai immediately realized the peculiarity of this hidden room. Unlike the room outside, where the floor and walls weren’t too different from a common office, the ones here were a muted and sickly yellow. The lighting was also a lot dimmer. But what caught his eyes the most was a lone mechanical chair in the center that reminded him of Gramps’ throne, though it was upright instead of reclining.

"This must be a torture room, huh?" Drai voiced his observation.

Hearing this, Sol couldn’t help but smirk as he led Drai to the chair.

"What mental fortitude. No wonder the General saw potential in you," Sol commented while prepping Drai, securing him on the chair with the built-in locking mechanisms.

’Well, even if I’m scared shitless, Titan’s Fortitude will help me out. But really, this torture room is quite uninspiring. I’ve seen way more impressive setups in screenshots from horror flicks,’ Drai thought as he gazed around the room.

"Alright, you’re all set," Sol remarked before pinching Drai’s right pinky. "Private Drai, I hope you’ll cooperate soon since I can do this all night if needed."

Sighing, Drai couldn’t help but blurt out, "Are you really that dense? I’ve been cooperating since the beginning. What are you even gonna do? Break my fingers? Is that even allowed?"

"Heh, you guessed right. Inflicting physical harm during peacetime interrogations is too much—you can easily sue me if I do that. But don’t worry, there’s a reason I’m the go-to man whenever the high-ups want to employ a bit more... uncivility."

Immediately after, a sharp pain coming from his pinky startled Drai. His gaze instantly moved toward the source, but he was surprised to discover that Sol’s fingers weren’t digging into his flesh like the pain was suggesting. They were still as before, pinching his pinky seemingly without much strength.

"...This must be your skill’s doing, huh?" Drai inferred.

"A simple guess, but yes, you’re right. Look here, no physical damage at all, right? That’s because I’m simply toying with your nerve endings directly, bypassing all the unnecessary trauma," Sol briefly explained.

Noticing that the man’s eyes were now subtly tinged with excitement, Drai slightly quivered in disgust.

"You must be a sick fuck. How else would you get such a skill?" Drai bluntly remarked.

"What do you mean ’sick fuck’? I’m just really intrigued by pain and how they’re inflicted," Sol objected, though based on his expression, he didn’t seem offended by Drai’s comment.

"Well, that definitely makes you a sick fuck."

The pain in Drai’s pinky suddenly sharpened, as if it was being ground down by a dull saw. Even with his pain tolerance skill, Drai couldn’t maintain his impassive face. Still, he managed to withstand the torture with relative ease.

"Looks like even your pain tolerance is remarkable," Sol remarked as he shook his head in admiration. "I’ve seen tough-looking guys bawl like a little girl with just this level of pain. Turns out they seldom experience such pain due to their sturdy constitution, so in a sense, they’re way less tolerant to pain than ’weaker’ people, which makes me wonder, how come a ripped guy like you is able to take this so well?"

Sol then glanced at his partner who was standing still by the door, silently watching the ordeal. It’s unclear whether she found this distasteful or was preoccupied with her own thoughts, but from Drai’s perspective, she showed no interest in actively participating in this round of interrogation.

"Right, not only this, you also weren’t affected by Luna’s hypnosis," Sol continued. "Do you really have that wide range of defensive skills? Or was it all because a single exceptional skill? Come on, tell me how you fared so well, Private. The night is young, we’ve got plenty of time for a few stimulating discussions—unless you decide to reveal the truth now."

Instead of addressing the question, Drai replied, "Move your fingers please."

"Huh? What do you mean? Are you ready to testify?"

Most of the time during his torturing sessions, Sol could easily judge whether someone was reaching their limits just by observing their body language. But currently, Drai seemed nowhere close to breaking, which was why he was rather surprised by his subject’s sudden request.

’Despite being so annoyingly resilient, is he actually a huge coward?’ Sol couldn’t help wondering.

However, Drai’s following words shattered Sol’s assumption.

"Testify my ass—that’s what I’ve been doing all this time, you dolt. I mean move your fingers to my ring finger, then the middle one after that. I don’t want to just train my pinky all night long, you know? What if it ends up getting too swole and can’t fit into my nose and ear anymore? How should I pick my boogers then, with yours?"

For the first time this evening, Sol seemed infuriated as a couple of veins popped out of his forehead.

"I’ve actually been taking it slow since I wanted to thoroughly appreciate your resilience, but it appears you’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re probably thinking I’m a pushover or something, huh? Fine—you want equal ’training’ for your fingers? Here you go then."

Instead of moving his fingers like requested, Sol wrapped all ten of Drai’s fingers with his hands. Instantly, Drai felt as if his fingers were being rapidly shredded by graters.

Seeing Drai’s increasingly sweaty face, Sol broke into a smirk again.

"That’s the expression I’ve been waiting for, Private, though it could use a bit more agony. Heh, I wonder if you can still act tough with all this pain I’m inflicting."

Drai ignored Sol’s goading, keeping his mouth shut amid his twisted face.

Yet, Sol wasn’t bothered at all by his reaction. From his countless torturing, he knew that almost everyone couldn’t help but act tough at first, but with enough pain and time, they would inevitably break. And every time they did, Sol would inwardly lament, as it meant the end of his entertainment—such was the mindset of a sadist.

"Don’t go overboard, Sol," Luna suddenly advised.

"Relax, Luna. I’m a pro—I know what I’m doing," Sol replied without moving his gaze away from Drai’s pained face.

"Are you sure? Then why did one of your subjects turn deranged?"

This time, Sol’s smirk vanished as he glanced over his shoulder, asking, "Are you talking about Vox?"

"Yes."

"Then you’ve gotten it wrong. That woman was a complete lunatic even before I tortured her. She was also my toughest customer to date. You know, she barely said anything other than a few nonsensical remarks during the two weeks I worked on her. Most of the time, she just laughed out the pain like a maniac—I still get shivers whenever I think of that particular interrogation."

"I didn’t know it was like that," Luna said, slightly sounding apologetic.

"Relax, I get that our colleagues often talk behind my back since it comes with my peculiar work and class. But please don’t judge my expertise solely based on Vox—she’s an entirely different beast compared to everyone else I’ve dealt with."

"Including him?" Luna asked since she noticed Drai’s complexion seemed to get better by every second.

Sol had noticed this too, which only caused him to freshly smirk before saying, "Private Drai looks like a potential contender for my top ten toughest bunch, but we’ll have to see how far he can actually go. I don’t think the high-ups will let me work on him too long though—they’re in urgent need of his testimony to pinpoint the masterminds of today’s slaughter. I’m afraid if I don’t get him to speak up for three days at most, they’ll send in a replacement."

"Well, they better do because you two are dumb as hell. You can’t even tell truths from lies even after resorting to underhanded means, unlike Captain Ailem," Drai suddenly retorted.

"Now you’ve done it," Sol coldly said before releasing Drai’s fingers and grabbing his head instead.

An immense pain instantly pierced Drai’s head, even worse that what he experienced during his final procedure with Ravi months ago, which finally caused him to bellow painfully.

"Your brain must feel like it’s getting squashed, right? That’s misleading though—brains don’t have nerve endings. It’s your meninges, blood vessels, and facial nerves that I’m stimulating. Don’t worry, I’ll let go after you faint. There’s no point in torturing someone unconscious."

Sol kept up his skill for minutes, but to his shock, Drai just wouldn’t pass out. In fact, he seemed to begin adapting to the pain since his wails were slowly turning into subdued grunts.

"Truly impressive, but that’s not the extent of my abilities," Sol muttered before upping the pain level once more.

This time Drai couldn’t even cry out as he was too busy gasping soundlessly in his effort to not lose his breath or mind. He felt as if someone had taken his head off and was deep frying it in magma.

After a while, Luna suddenly yelled, "Sol! You’re hurting him!"

"Exactly!" Sol shouted back with his eyes closed as he had to focus really hard to manipulate Drai’s countless nerves to such a degree.

"No! He’s literally bleeding out!"

Hearing this, Sol immediately retracted his skill and opened his eyes. What greeted him was streams of blood pouring out of Drai’s facial orifices.

"Ah, fuck..." Sol cursed, visibly panicked. He was sure he hadn’t sensed that Drai had passed out. Even now when Sol tried checking on him, the readings indicated that Drai was conscious. Yet, he remained motionless and his eyes were blank, only his constant gasps for air and his heaving chest showed that he hadn’t actually died.

"I told you not to go overboard! We’re both in deep trouble now!" Luna screamed.

"R-relax, I can probably fix this," Sol nervously replied before stimulating a few particular nerves of Drai to help with cortical activation, hoping that it would jolt the young private awake. Unfortunately, his attempt seemed fruitless.

Luna also approached Drai and tried her psychic skills on him but with no results.

As the two continued fiddling with Drai, they heard a knock right before the door behind them swung open.

Thinking that it was the guards, Sol barked without looking, "Leave! We’re busy!" He also made his body bigger to hide Drai’s bleeding face out of their sight.

Just then, a hand rested on his shoulder, causing Sol to turn around furiously.

"I SAID LEA—Oh."

Standing right before him was a hardened figure adorned with red scales, clad in an overwhelmingly decorated military dress.

The man’s stern gaze shifted to Drai and lingered there for a few seconds before returning to Sol again.

"Care to explain, lad?" Alancho coldly asked as his sharp nails ruthlessly dug into Sol’s shoulders.