"This is a gift for you, Old Neil." Kenley handed the coffee beans and tea powder to Old Neil, who smiled and nodded, watching him leave his office.
Kenley strode into Tingen City Police Station, showed his trainee inspector credentials to the front desk lady, who immediately stood up and led him to the largest office on the second floor belonging to Police Chief Marcel Spencer.
"Trainee Inspector Kenley, what can I do for you?" Chief Marcel stood up, extended his right hand and firmly shook hands with Kenley.
As chief, he knew well that these trainee inspector credentials were issued to members of Beyonder squads. Each of them possessed abilities beyond ordinary people, and needed only one word to mobilize himself and his subordinate officers.
His words were full of humility and respect.
"Are those thieves caught a few days ago still here?"
"Of course, each of them is a repeat offender. We plan to transfer them to Tingen City Prison in a week, where they'll stay for at least three years." Chief Marcel said.
"I'd like to see them." Kenley said. "Their confessions might be very important."
"Please follow me." Chief Marcel stood up, led Kenley to the first basement level prison. Outside the largest cell, Kenley saw three young men with dirty, disheveled hair, wearing white shirts and gray vests. Their sleeves and pants had been torn off by more than half, feet bare, hands and feet bound to the wall with heavy iron chains.
This was to prevent them from hiding keys in their bodies to escape? Really simple and crude.
"What do they eat every day?" Kenley asked a sudden question.
"Two meals a day, two pieces of black bread and a cup of clear water." Chief Marcel answered without hesitation. "Feeding them is wasting the police station's budget. These scum don't deserve to enjoy any food worth more than two pennies."
"I see. I'd like to be alone with them for a few minutes." Kenley said.
"Officers are at the door. Please command them if you need anything." Chief Marcel opened the cell door in front of him, and diligently moved over a stool from the side, asking Kenley to sit at the cell door, then left the first basement level.
"Bah, police lackey, you won't get any useful information from the three of us." The yellow short-haired man in the middle looked at Kenley, staring with a completely disdainful look.
Kenley didn't speak, turned the stool under his bottom one hundred eighty degrees, chair back facing forward, hands propped on the chair back, scanning the three men's facial expressions with cold eyes.
The man on the left kept looking down at the cold stone floor, apparently having accepted his future fate. The man in the middle glared at him fiercely, while the man on the right kept glancing at him from time to time, but didn't dare make eye contact. Every time his gaze swept over him, he would deliberately avoid his eyes.
From their ages, the man on the right seemed to have just come of age, with slightly naive eyes - a suitable subject for questioning.
Even without the "Thief's" observational abilities, he obtained enough information from the three men's reactions.
Kenley methodically opened the paper bag in his hand, revealing the long sandwich with three layers of thick smoked meat, sufficiently fresh crisp vegetables, large slices of tomatoes, and a thick layer of black pepper, and took a big bite.
Although he had just eaten, it was still a rare delicacy.
The fresh sandwich combined with black pepper strongly stimulated the saliva and taste buds of the three men in front. Kenleyears, enhanced by the "Thief" potion, could clearly hear the three men swallowing saliva and the gurgling sounds from their stomachs.
These three had been starved for several days.
He swallowed the bread in his mouth, pretending not to care as he put the sandwich back in the paper bag.
"I want to know," Kenley said as if unconcerned, "who is your boss? And who provided you with the potion formula?"
"Answer these two questions, and you'll all get the remaining sandwich, plus possible sentence reduction."
"Before I finish eating this sandwich - that's the time you have to think."
Kenley continued opening the sandwich bag, very slowly. His peripheral vision caught all three men simultaneously raising their heads, staring intently at the bag in his hands.
Very good, it's working.
"I'll talk." The man on the right suddenly opened his mouth. "I'll talk."
"Bazil Ackman, shut your stinking mouth. The boss will save us." The man in the middle struggled to turn his head toward the right man. "Don't forget it was I who brought you out of the slums."
"You brought me out of the slums, but casually threw me into the abyss like garbage, and stepped on my right hand reaching above water several times." Bazil said viciously. "I couldn't steal the five money pouches you demanded every day, could only survive on the black bread you left behind."
"Compared to you, I'd rather trust the promise of this inspector in front of me."
"Give me a different cell, away from these filthy guys, and I'll tell you everything I know." Bazil raised his head, looking at Kenley with eyes full of hope. "In the name of a gentleman, I request you honor your promise."
"Of course." Kenley stood up, shouted loudly, "Officer!"
The officer at the door heard and ran over. "Inspector, please command."
"Unlock the rightmost man's handcuffs and shackles, take him to the first empty cell, and give him a cup of appropriately heated coffee." Kenley said.
After an hour of interrogation, Kenley obtained sufficient information. He placed the paper bag containing the sandwich in front of Bazil. "I am a man of my word."
"Thank you, generous gentleman." Bazil accepted the paper bag, like a hungry wolf, gulping down the sandwich inside with the warm coffee, a crystal tear flowing from the corner of his eye.
Kenley came to Chief Marcel's office upstairs. Chief Marcel raised his head. "Inspector, do you have any other commands?"
"That guy named Bazil provided us with sufficiently important information. His conscience hasn't completely died." Kenley said. "I've already arranged him in a separate cell. To prevent revenge from the other two guys, I hope to arrange him in a prison in another county."
"That guy in the middle has lost his conscience as a normal person. I hope your report can reflect this point as well."
"I will indicate this in the report submitted to the judge." Chief Marcel nodded. "This is just a small matter."
This small matter decided a person's fate.
"Thank you." Kenley put on his top hat, nodded farewell to Chief Marcel, turned and left the police station.
According to Bazil's account, their boss was called Alec Zorn, living in the basement of the abandoned Vortex Church in the south of the city, with two guards there at night.
Kenley mouth revealed a trace of smile. This was a challenge, but also the moment to test the combat power of his "Thief" potion.