Chapter 284: Interrogation and Torture
When Hunter reached the last apartment, he instinctively reached out to twist the handle, then froze.
The door had been locked from the inside.
"Looks like Mons really does live here."
The lock was no problem for Hunter.
He skillfully pulled a wire from his private space.
After inserting it into the lock and fiddling for a moment, the door clicked open.
Hunter gently pushed the door and entered with his suppressed MP5 raised.
Unlike the other rooms in the five-story building, this one clearly belonged to a key man under the drug lord, so its furnishings and layout were better than the others.
That said, they still were not much better.
Inside the room, Hunter was immediately hit by a smell he knew all too well.
Because the dim orange light was still on, he could see a torn-open bag of white powder on a table, along with several used syringes and saline solution.
Hunter looked at the drugs with disgust.
After scanning the room and finding that, aside from a few guns, there was nothing else worth noting, he instinctively took the handguns and headed toward the bedroom, where he could hear movement.
The bedroom door was wide open. Inside, one man and two women were still "communicating."
Hunter's footsteps did not draw their attention.
From their state, he immediately realized they had taken too much.
He frowned, but still hurried inside.
Bang.
Three quick hand strikes took down the man and the two women in no time.
Hunter glanced at the man.
He was around thirty-five to forty years old, with a solid muscular build and a diagonal scar across his face.
"Mons."
Once he confirmed the man's identity, Hunter quickly took rope from his private space and tied the man's hands and feet.
He then grabbed a piece of clothing from the room and stuffed it in his mouth.
After that, Hunter checked the windows in the room for a moment.
A smile soon appeared on his lips.
He quickly took out a climbing rope, wrapped the naked Mons in a bedsheet, and tied him to himself.
Then, carrying the one-hundred-sixty- to one-hundred-seventy-pound Mons on his back, Hunter climbed out through the window.
He kicked off the wall on the way down and, in less than a minute, descended from the fifth floor to the ground.
After carrying Mons a little farther away, Hunter quickly took a pickup truck from his private space.
He stuffed Mons into the truck bed and drove away.
"You got lucky."
Because nothing had alerted the people downstairs during the operation, Hunter also did not trigger the bomb he had planted on the fifth floor when he left.
More than half an hour later, inside an abandoned warehouse near the New York port.
Hunter looked at Mons, who was tied hand and foot to an iron frame.
Then he took out a plastic bucket and a bottle of water from his private space.
After pouring water into the bucket, he lifted it and splashed it over Mons, who was still unconscious.
Splash.
Mons, still unconscious, was drenched and immediately got some water into his nose and mouth. He coughed a few times and slowly opened his eyes.
"Where... is this?"
Mons had clearly taken some drugs earlier, and now he still seemed a little dazed.
Hunter wore a robber's hood.
When Mons woke up, Hunter walked forward and slapped him hard across the face.
Slap.
The pain in his face instantly made Mons, whose head was still foggy, wake up a little more.
A man who could survive in a drug lord's organization and become a key operative was never ordinary.
Though the drugs had not fully worn off, Mons had recovered about sixty or seventy percent.
He lifted his head fiercely and saw Hunter in the robber's hood.
He immediately started cursing.
"XXXX, do you know who I am... you dare kidnap me, you XXX..."
Seeing this guy's vicious expression, and that he showed absolutely no awareness of having become prey in someone else's hands, Hunter realized he was used to bullying people.
Hunter just looked at him expressionlessly and reached behind himself.
In a place Mons could not see, Hunter took out a military knife from his private space.
"You..."
Mons saw him suddenly pull a knife from behind his waist and was just about to threaten him.
Hunter did not bother talking.
He simply drove the knife into Mons's thigh.
"Ah!"
Mons screamed, but still kept cursing at Hunter with a ferocious look.
Hunter did not indulge him.
He yanked the military knife back out and, without hesitation, stabbed Mons's other leg.
"Ah!"
Mons screamed again.
This time, when Mons saw Hunter's face still twisted with rage, he finally learned to stop yelling.
But the look in his eyes was as if he wanted to devour Hunter alive.
Hunter smiled and reached behind himself again.
This time he took out a small spray bottle filled with a dark reddish liquid.
It was pepper water made from habanero-style Mexican ghost peppers mixed with water.
Hunter had bought several pounds of those peppers back when he and Perkins traveled in Mexico.
He had seen them in a store, thought they looked interesting, and bought them on a whim.
Later, after trying to cook with them and realizing they were far too spicy for food, he had been tormented by the peppers himself.
Then he suddenly had an idea.
This thing would make an excellent torture tool.
He shook the bottle in front of Mons and said in a distorted voice, "This is pepper water made from ghost peppers. If I spray it on your wounds, the pain will be enough to make you wish you were dead."
"If you do not want to be tortured, tell me where Frank D'Amico lives."
"Remember, my patience is limited. You only get one chance."
Mons's face changed sharply.
He had heard of ghost peppers before and knew they were extremely hot.
He did not know exactly what being sprayed with pepper water made from them would feel like, but he had once had sweat burn a wound before, and that had already been excruciating.
Even sweat with only a little salt in it could make a wound hurt twice as much.
Mons did not dare imagine what pepper water would feel like on an open wound.
"You... who are you exactly?"
"Could you be that Big Daddy?"
Hunter knew that Damon and his daughter Mindy had already been acting as Big Daddy and Hit-Girl for some time, targeting and destroying the strongholds under Frank D'Amico's control.
But Hunter could not be bothered to waste time talking.
Seeing that Mons was still trying to stall, Hunter raised the bottle and aimed it at him.
Mons's face changed drastically.
"Wait... I..."
Just as Hunter pressed the spray button, a stream of red liquid with a sharp smell burst out.
Mons immediately felt that the pain in his wounds, which had already been severe, now surged like fire.
The agony instantly multiplied several times over.
Even for a man who had seen plenty of violence and been injured before, this was too much to bear.
"I..."
He was just about to curse again, but Hunter, having already seen the opening, yanked out the military knife still stuck in Mons's thigh and plunged it into his lower abdomen before pulling it out again.
"Ah!"
Hunter had slightly underestimated the man's willpower, so he did not waste any more words.
With his other hand, he aimed the pepper water directly at the two new wounds and sprayed them too.
"Ahhh..."
The screams quickly turned Mons's throat hoarse.
His already twisted face became even more contorted by pain.
Seeing that, Hunter shook the military knife in his hand and kicked the half-full bucket of clean water at his feet.
"Tell me, where does Frank D'Amico live?"
"Once I confirm the information, I will spare your life."
Mons saw the knife in Hunter's hand and noticed it repeatedly pointing toward his chest.
As blood continued to drain from him, his consciousness began to blur.
But the ghost pepper water kept the pain unbearable.
Under that combined torture, he finally cracked.
"I'll talk..."
"I'll talk..."
"He's at XXXX Street, XXXX number. Hurry... give me water..."
Hunter was very good at reading micro-expressions and emotions.
After Mons woke up, he had been watching his face and eyes the whole time.
Now that Mons looked pain-stricken, vicious, and hateful, but did not show the expression of someone who had succeeded with a lie, and his eyes did not show the reflexive evasiveness of a liar either.
Hunter reached a conclusion.
"Highly reliable."
Once he reached that conclusion, Hunter swung the military knife and cleanly slit Mons's throat.
A large spray of blood burst out.
The drug lord's key man glared at Hunter one last time, then lost all breath and fell silent.
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