The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]
Chapter 378 – Interrogation

Damian remembered the first two years of his higher education schooling before he had dropped out. There, it had taken a month to request a single document. To get work marked, he would have to wait for two months after the deadlines for the bare minimum corrections on his essays. He remembered the civilian sector, where the situation was much the same. He remembered joining the Clerics and seeing how the most populous yet underfunded Divine Order operated. He had little bad to say about the Clerics, the situation wasn’t one of people being unwilling to help, it was that there simply wasn’t enough of everything to go around.

Damian Sokolowski had sent the mail to Iliyal yesterday. Today, as his command Division of Army Group ‘Arika-West’ had been moving, a plane had flown by low overhead. A team of thirty bodies had jumped out, each one in colourful dress and with stave and wand. Each one not needing a parachute and instead settled on the air half way down from the plane to the ground.

Ten of them had shot off immediately to the rain storm that was turning creating mudslides of ash which ran faster than flooding rivers. Sokolowski issued a stop to his division as he turned and watched in awe as the magicians from Arcadia got to work.

The howling winds blowing from the south suddenly stopped as if they had been cut off. The tiny scarfs of dust being unfurled by the wind fell to the ground. The clouds became flat as if they hit a barrier. They built up as the ten mages rose higher into the air. Lightning crashed from the clouds as they were pushed down. The ground rumbled, ash flew up waist high into the air. Clouds came down faster as they became more mist than cloud, then mist became droplets of water which coalesced into a hovering pond in the air. In less than an hour, Sokolowski was staring at a new lake to his south.

To think that once Damian had needed to argue for his useless, waste of space, professors to read through his writing, and now he could send one piece of mail to another continent and have the weather be stopped.

“This is your last chance. I am willing to listen to you explain how you got your blessing, or how Anarchia shares the power out, or what sort of powers you’ve seen being handed out, or anything else that would be of military use.” Malam watched Helenna speak to the so-called ‘hero’ that Anassa had paralyzed and captured. A Cleric had been called over to heal the two-legged swine. A good amount of time had been wasted getting the figure secured into a seat. And then Helenna had said that it would be better for Malam if she went first. “I am the Goddess of Love, Jean.” Helenna said calmly. “It will be much better if you agree to work with me than with the Goddess of Hatred.”

Helenna played the part of the friend excellently, even down to her clothes. She had come in with a thick brown jumper and a skirt that made her seem like a friend, even though she stood more than half-again the man’s height. Helenna sighed and crossed her arms as Malam got her coat. They had transported to the ‘hero’ to a military prison. A cell had been found, it came with cameras and microphones even though it was just a simple room of cream walls and white tiles. A table small table was in the middle, with the Goddess of Love on one side and the prisoner on another.  The former a complete contrast to the latter, the man was dressed in the simple white trousers and shirt of the prison. The clothes stretched and almost tore under the rippling mass of his muscles.

Jean sat there. His passport had revealed the name and Malam had done a little bit of searching online. The man had never expected to become super-powered. That was obvious. Or maybe he was just stupid, but he left a long and easy trail to follow. All one needed to catch the scent was a little bit of Rancais. “I have nothing to say.” Jean said. “You already know who I am.”

“I had questions, you had no answer to them. I’m not a threatening woman, at least I don’t try to, so I will simply say that I’m honestly disappointed because I thought we were starting to like each other.” Helenna said as she collected all the documents she had been showing Jean and put them back into her folder. Iliyal had done some basic testing on the capabilities of Anarchia’s supporters, but there was no better way to acquire information than from the horse’s mouth itself, was there? “My time is up now. I would put in a good word with Malam for you, but you said nothing.”

“It baffles me that you think I would say anything in the first place.” Jean replied.

“I’m the Goddess of Love Jean, I’m not going to beg you for information. I merely ask, you refused to answer, here we are.” Helenna stood up and slid her seat back. “That is all, goodbye.” And Helenna walked out as Jean’s eyes followed.

In a few moments Helenna walked through the door to the monitoring room where Malam watched with the team of investigators that were here to assist. The men weren’t doing much but it was always good to have a boy for bringing drinks. Malam drank her shot as Helenna looked at her. The Goddess of Love’s hair turned to a disappointed black from the friendly ginger it had been. “I can’t believe you’re drinking already.” Helenna said.

“I’ll set him up so that he’ll spill everything to you next time.” Malam stood up and slid a whole bottle into one of the huge pockets of her black coat. In another, she deftly put in a shot glass.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to get him drunk.”

“I drink when I’m having fun Helenna.” Malam said as she walked past the Goddess of Love. “And it’s been a long time since I got to destroy someone.” Helenna didn’t reply as Malam walked through a small corridor and stopped before a huge steel door. She pressed a button and it slid open for her to reveal the interrogation room.

Malam readjusted her black cap. She smoothed the collar of her black coat. She marched in on boots with heavy heels clicking against the room. And immediately, good old Jean looked as if he was regretting not talking to Helenna. “Good afternoon.” Malam made her tone snakish to terrify the fellow. He would crack under Helenna, but it would not be because of Helenna’s words. Rather, it would be because of the contrast Malam brought to the table. If she found any information, that would be purely accidental. “How are we doing Jean?” She stretched the man’s name out to make it seem like she was savouring the taste of it. “Personally, you just made my day.”

Malam walked around the man and to his back. She pulled out a knife and slid it through the leather straps holding the man’s impressive wrists back. He would most likely be able to break through them anyway and Malam, quite honestly, wanted him to try something. “That’s better, isn’t it?” Malam said.

“Thank you.” Jean replied quietly as he rubbed his wrists, he was obviously taken aback by the sudden mercy. Malam kept up her smile as she sat down, pulled out her bottle of vodka and the shot glass. She poured herself one and drank it. The man was looking at the bottle quizzically.

“Do you want one?” Malam asked. First bait. Anyone who had dealt with her should know immediately to politely turn the request down.

“Are you offering?” Jean asked.

“It was a yes or no question.”

“Yes.” Jean answered, in one smooth movement, Malam wiped that stupidly hopeful smile off his face. The Goddess of Hatred grabbed the bottle, flicked her pristine white hair away and spilled a shot’s worth onto the white tiles.

“There you go.” Malam replied. “For if you get thirsty, you’re welcome to lap it up.” Malam saw Jean’s face turn in confusion, then into dismay. Those blue eyes of his suddenly lost confidence and even though the man’s muscles meant he was as wide as Malam even though she was half again his height, he seemed to shrink. “Now mister Jean-Phillipe Picquot.” Malam purposefully used his full name even though Helenna had gone with the name provided in the fake documents he had come with. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Jean looked at Malam and took just a few moments too long to respond. The man was obviously taken aback, but he was trying to act nonchalant about it. “I have no clue who Jean-Phillipe Picquot is. I am Jean Jacques.” Malam nodded and made a flat face as she poured herself another shot and drank it in front of the man. Words on paper could lie, but photos did not. Facial scans even more so.

Everyone was invisible. Everyone was anonymous too. Jean-Phillipe Picquot had not criminal record, he wasn’t some raging madman with a whole case file on him. Instead, he had worked in a small town in the south of Rancais. A councilman who volunteered in the library. A man who paid his dues and signed his tax forms. A man who had his fingerprints to ease entrance into the council he worked out. A man who had blood-type A and a mild iron deficiency and raised blood sugar. A man who didn’t particularly put himself out there, without ambition. He had an account on Yapyap where he had written about his disgruntlement with the government led by the now dead President Artois. He hadn’t done particularly well, nor particularly badly in schools. He lacked confidence. His doctor was recommending for him to start going to social clubs.

A man who most likely thought he was invisible and intelligent, but it had been Malam’s speciality to make sure such men were found back in the Great War. Now? It had taken a day of going through the Rancais government systems with Paida’s account and then an hour of browsing Yapyap and following various links and messages the man left. “Mr Picquot.” Malam said. “I have questions to ask.”

The Goddess of Hatred purposefully took a pause so that Jean could argue back. “I’ve answered all I can with Helenna already.”

He had taken the bait perfectly. “Oh no Mr Picquot.” Each time Malam said the name, she made sure to stretch it out just a little further. “I think you misunderstood your situation.” Malam leaned back and met the man’s eyes as her mouth twisted into a smile. “You aren’t here to decide whether you’ll answer questions or not. I’ve decided that for you. Your choice is whether you’ll like to answer my questions or Helenna’s questions.” Jean narrowed his eyes at Malam as he tried to muster up some courage.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Malam gave her first question. “You went to a school by the name of Lycee Louis le Petite, did you not?”; the man’s CV for applying at his job for local bureaucrat. Malam said it in a musing tone and immediately, Jean’s mood change. So Malam had gotten the right person, after all, if she was wrong, why did the man suddenly look nervous and afraid? The Goddess of Hatred poured herself another shot. “Tic-toc Mr Picquot, I don’t have all day.”

And Jean remained silent. Malam sighed as she drank and then pulled her phone. She set it down on the table so that Jean could see what she was doing. Purposefully, she had set a picture of a cartoon dog as her wallpaper, a stretched out screenshot from some animation that had been badly cropped. It was on purpose, to make it even more humiliating for the man. “I think you know who Iliyal Tremali is, right Mr Picquot?” Jean remained and Malam clicked her tongue. “He’s the man tasked with liberating Rancais from you.”

And that finally made Jean snap. “Is that what you call it, liberation?” Malam kept her face straight even though she was burning up with glee on the inside. Did the man actually think he could go toe-to-toe with her in argument? This swine?

“Actually I agree the name is farcical, it should be called a pesticide operation.” Malam said as she scrolled to Iliyal’s name in her contacts. She rang and put the phone on loudspeaker, Iliyal knew the drill already.

The elf answered after four seconds to the dot. “Iliyal speaking.” The elf’s stern voice came through the phone. Malam coldly held Jean’s gaze and carried a smile as she spoke to Iliyal.

“High Marshal Tremali, do we have aircraft spare?”

“We do.”

“We talked of the Lycee Louis le Petite school near Alles. I have recently come across suspicion that it is a staging point for Anarchian activity, how long would it take to bomb it?” It was a lie. Jean knew it was a lie. Malam knew she was lying. Malam knew that Jean knew that she was lying. But she was lying simply to show she still could and would and there was nothing Jean could do about it.

“There’s planes in the air already.”

“Thank you, High Marshal.” Malam replied. “I’m going now but stay by the phone, I may come across more information soon, Oh!” Malam bathed in her theatrical tone. “We have men in the area, right? In case I find any high value targets that must be disposed of?”

“We do.” Iliyal replied. That was a lie. But Jean didn’t know that. And Malam switched the call off.

“You may answer questions or you will have them answered for you.” Malam said. “You’re an adult now, you thought it fun to make your own decisions, you decided to try and kill Fer. So welcome to the real world Mr Picquot, where we speak when we have the chance before the opportunity passes. Is that understood?”

Jean quickly nodded. “Understood.” He practically spat the word out of his mouth.

“You once fancied a girl by the name of Celine Autoir.”; Yapyap, the man had bemoaned Celine two years ago in a post. “Did you not?”

The blood drained from Jean’s face, his eyes went wide and he stared at Malam as if she was a terrible phantom. “How do you know that?” He asked.

“That’s not an answer.” Malam said. “Very, I’ll answer that question myself. Next Ques-“

“I did!” Jean quickly shouted and Malam smiled at the man.

“Thank you. Next Question. Your apartment number is 218, is that correct?”; Tax forms, address box.

“It is.” Jean said immediately. “You won’t do anything to Celine, will you?”

“All I’m doing is asking questions and you’re answering them Mr Picquot.” Malam said. “What will happen to Miss Autoir? I do not know. All I can say is that if you don’t answer a question, you most likely won’t like the answer I’ll have to make up in the place of yours. Now, next question, it’s a hypothetical. If the Saint Ilyes Library was to be set alight, would that be a good thing for the local community?” The Saint Ilyes Library was where Jean volunteered.

“No.” Jean replied and Malam nodded.

“Next Question, your neighbours have children, do they not?”; Yapyap, Jean had complained about trouble sleeping because of children crying in the rooms close to him.

“You’re not going to hurt them?” Jean asked quickly in panic then realised his mistake. “Yes! They do! They do, but don’t do anything to them!”

“Mmh.” Malam a sound that neither denied nor confirmed anything. “Lovely. Next question, do you think you can beat me in a fight?” Malam wanted to beat the man up, but men had a way of becoming more confident when they were in open suffering. Crushing hope was a lesson in weakness, and the best way to learn was from one’s mistake. Jean sized Malam up and down again as the Goddess pulled her shoulders in. It was just a moment too long of thought. He did. Malam smiled happily at the man. “You’re not too smart Mr Picquot, do you know that?”

“I don’t think I could beat you.” Jean backed down and Malam sighed.

“That is disappointing Mr Picquot. That is truly disappointing, I expected better from a man picked out by a Goddess. Next question: considering that you visit the La Yefatte bar every week, who do you talk to the most there?”; Bank statement of transactions. Malam didn’t actually know the answer to this one, but it didn’t matter. Jean had cracked.

“A girl called Amelie. I don’t know her second name. Honestly, I don’t.”

“Women like it when you’re forwards.” Malam said slyly as she tapped her nose. “Trust me, I’m good with relationships, no one likes a coward.” Jean looked at Malam with tired eyes that said he only wanted to die already. “Next question, your parents are not at all too fond of Anarchia, are they?”; Yapyap, the man had his parents as contacts. Who didn’t after all?

“They disagree with her.” Jean said cautiously.

“It was a yes or no question Mr Picquot.”

“No, they’re not fond of her.”

“Did you know they’re trying to escape to Rilia?” Malam asked. Jean’s parents’ own accounts.

“I do.” Jean said and Malam smiled.

“I’m sure Anarchia isn’t all to happy about the families of the men she blessed not being true believers.”

“I didn’t tell her.” Jean replied.

“That wasn’t a question Mr Picquot.” Malam replied quickly. Jean fell back into his chair and sighed. “But I want to congratulate you on your long-term planning, I’m sure it will be of only minor consequences that your parents want to escape into the Empire your Goddess has explicitly named the greatest threat.” Malam let the silence hold on for a few moments as she poured herself another shot and drank it. “Next question, what do you think about that?”

“I’m resigned to giving my blessing up to protect them.” Jean said and Malam smiled.

“Mr Picquot, I was not talking about what Anarchia will do to you, I was talking about what I will do to people whose son I know is blessed by Anarchia.” If there ever was a crushing blow, it was this. Jean said nothing, he couldn’t even maintain Malam’s gaze. His eyes fell and he looked down at the table. There was nothing there anymore. Malam had destroyed the man’s ego. Maybe it would recover by tomorrow, but Jean did not have until tomorrow. “And now, I have another question for you. Would you prefer to answer my questions or to answer Helenna’s questions?”

“Helenna’s questions.”

“Mmh.” Malam stood up as Jean sighed and collapsed into his chair. “Very well. I’ll send her in then.”