Hearing about the "blood feud" between those two men, Jeanne could already envision a 200-minute movie in her head detailing their complicated history of love and hate.
But in reality, she simply found the whole situation illogical. How could people who supposedly wanted to exterminate each other's entire bloodlines just shake hands, make up, and fight side-by-side? Jeanne didn't believe that movie plots could coincide so perfectly with her enemies in real life; the probability of such melodramatic writing existing in reality was essentially zero.
"It's so complicated... I feel like most of these people didn't even matter at the scene. Except for the one who received the orders, the others probably didn't even know what they were doing before they got in the car."
Jeanne muttered to herself while flipping through the files, wondering what suspicious link could possibly tie these completely unrelated thugs together.
"It's true. Their statements don't match up at all. One guy, when brought into the LGD, actually thought they were just going out for dinner," Ch'en agreed with Jeanne's assessment. They had certainly failed to squeeze anything useful out of those suspects.
"As for the one who is clearly the leader... his mouth is incredibly tight. We haven't been able to pry anything out of him yet. If this continues, I'm afraid our only option is torture."
When mentioning torture, Ch'en's brow furrowed noticeably. It was clear she disliked such extrajudicial behavior; in fact, they had never used such methods on anyone else. In Ch'en's eyes, she was the guardian of the city's peace, so she strictly adhered to the law. Private torture was a blatant violation of the rules she lived by.
In fact, it was an act that went against everything Ch'en stood for. Such a thing would never happen under her management. If the negative impact of this case weren't so severe, and if the man they caught weren't a hardened criminal who refused to speak a word, Ch'en wouldn't have even breathed such a complaint to Jeanne.
However, it was just a vent. Ch'en had no actual plans for such things; she was just feeling frustrated and stifled.
"Let me see... Is this the leader? Come to think of it, this guy definitely looks like the type who is exceptionally good at fighting just by looking at him."
Jeanne stared at the man who was so buff he looked like "muscle incarnate." Her first thought was actually: How disciplined do you have to be to train your body to this extent?
Looking at the pair of broken horns on his head, it was clear he was a veteran of many battles. She just didn't know if the horns had been sawed off or smashed in a fight. Jeanne looked at the broken stumps—they were severed so thoroughly that in the half-length photo, you could only see the base. She couldn't even tell what shape they were supposed to be.
"What race do these horns belong to? Minos or Sarkaz? The position doesn't look right. I haven't seen horns like this on Caprinae either; their horns grow from the top of the skull."
After pondering for a while, Jeanne flipped to the first page of the profile. The race listed was one she hadn't expected.
"This guy... is actually a Vouivre? There are Vouivres living in Lungmen? I thought they all lived in Victoria. Honestly, I can't see the resemblance at all. With muscles like that, I would've guessed Minos."
Jeanne stared at the mountain of muscle. To be honest, she really couldn't tell this was a Vouivre. Usually, guys built like bears came from Ursus or Minos—races known primarily for their raw strength.
"You really can't tell from just a headshot, but he is indeed a Vouivre, and a very capable fighter. He even tried to violently resist arrest and escape," Ch'en said, looking at the photo in Jeanne's hand. If she had only looked at the photo, she probably wouldn't have guessed he was a Vouivre either; the gap between him and her mental image of a Vouivre was just too large.
She recalled the Vouivre classmate she met while studying abroad in Victoria. That girl had extraordinary strength, easily wielding heavy weapons like they were toys without breaking a sweat, yet she didn't have these massive, trained muscle blocks.
"The Vouivre race primarily lives near Victoria, but there are members of the race in other countries too, just very few."
Indeed, Vouivres mostly gathered in village-like communities on Victorian soil. However, Ch'en had heard from Columbian students while studying in Victoria that there was a Vouivre woman there who was strong like a monster.
"As for the muscles, maybe he's just a fitness enthusiast? Otherwise, a race with naturally high strength like the Vouivre wouldn't really need to train themselves to look like this."
The moment Ch'en imagined her tractor-dreaming classmate growing to look like this muscle-man, a chill ran down her spine, and she quickly deleted the terrifying image from her brain.
Far away in Victoria, Bagpipe: "Achoo! Achoo!! Who on earth's talkin' behind me back, then?!"
"In that case, this will be easy. Could you take me to see this leader? Perhaps I can help you get the answers you want out of his mouth."
The moment Jeanne saw that the man was a Vouivre, a thought occurred to her, and a smile appeared on her face. She couldn't do much with other races, but since this gentleman was a Vouivre, the situation was entirely different. Jeanne was confident she could find out even what his ancestors were named.
"Meet him? True, if he sees you, the victim, he might actually let a slip show."
Ch'en nodded and agreed to the request. They had interrogated the guy all night, and he hadn't said a word except to mock them. Even when they sent in their best interrogators or the most intimidating Hoshiguma, they got no results.
Jeanne's suggestion gave her an idea. Perhaps letting the victim meet the perpetrator would work. A man clearly on a mission might have his resolve shaken by the direct sight of his failure.
Thinking of this, Ch'en immediately led Jeanne to the interrogation room. Although it might not strictly follow the regulations, they couldn't care less at this point.
"Who are you calling a vase![1] Say it again if you have the guts! If I don't make you eat that tongue of your."
The two of them had just reached the door when they heard a voice like a ruffled Feline roaring inside at the muscle-man. If it weren't for the tall Oni (Hoshiguma) holding her back, she probably would have pulled out her morning star by now.
"What's wrong with this Char Siu now? Why is she in there interrogating a prisoner? And I was only gone for a moment—how did he manage to piss her off like this?"
Ch'en asked the officer in charge of recording. Despite his serious expression, the officer was clearly struggling to hold back laughter; his face was practically red from the effort.
"Ch'en-sir, Officer Swire tried to play the 'emotional card' to see if it would work. The result was... a barrage of mockery from the guy! The specific... pfft... the specific details are all here. You'd better see for yourself!"
You just laughed! You definitely just laughed, I heard it! Jeanne thought. Aren't you afraid Swire, who controls the budget, will scrutinize your reimbursement receipts later?
Jeanne looked at the officer who couldn't stop smirking, then glanced over at the "evil-spirit-possessed" Swire who was being restrained. She figured Swire didn't have the mental capacity to look their way right now.
[1] An insult that implies the person is attractive but lacks substance, skills, or intelligence, acting merely as decoration.