Until that moment, he had managed to hold onto life by not speaking. Seeing the state of his friend who did the opposite and exaggerated a bit, you could say he made a smart decision, but his silence could no longer save him.
The jellified body of the short man, whom he had advised on where to slack off and taught the work-smart-not-hard style of working just a few minutes ago, was soaking the edges of his white coat. Alyon, more imposing than even a normal orc, was not joking, and the aura emitted by the purple-robed one he couldn't take his eyes off for a while was cold enough to freeze his bones.
"What do you want to learn? I am just an assistant serving inside the First Floor!"
For Alyon, who had gathered momentum, almost every answer was the wrong answer, and along with the fat man's first cry of pain, he was about to get rid of him too when Bookworm intervened.
"Explain the general layout of the facility. How many floors are there, what is done on the floors, and how much personnel works inside?"
Michelangelo's robots hadn't been able to go inside and gather information in order not to make a mistake regarding stealth. This was also a reason for them being so surprised right at the entrance, and when Bookworm got the opportunity to know the general outlines of the place they raided, he didn't want to lose it.
"There are three floors in total; the Research floor, the Rejects' Floor, and here, the Logs' Floor!"
When there was a clear demand, the man dazed in the grip of fear began to explain what was asked. Alyon had trapped him in a death trap impossible to escape from, whereas Bookworm was showing him a way out.
"Start with here first; what is behind the door, how many people are there?"
Even though the man, with the pressure on his body gone, couldn't move from where he was, he could breathe more comfortably. When his most basic vital need was regulated, his tongue would loosen too, he began to answer the incoming question without losing time.
"This floor consists of two sections, and with the person who just died, a total of ten assistants work here. The substances used during the experiments are stored in the area we are in, you must have already seen the other thing."
The assistant looking at the pool where the unrecognizable bodies of orcs swam, the moment he saw the others weren't indulging him, bowed his head forward and continued his words.
"Other than these, inside, the material lists sent by the Research Floor and usually the Rejects' Floor are prepared. The mechanism operates twice a day, and the assistants go down to the lower floor to distribute the prepared materials."
When the fat man completed his words, even though the others couldn't see due to the hood of his purple robe, Bookworm's eyes shone. For someone like him who was unmatched in processing information, even the slightest intelligence he would get was very important.
"How much time is there until the next shipment?"
The fat man swallowed hard; he wasn't stupid, he could read the subtext of the question, but if he didn't want to die, he also knew he had to answer whatever was asked.
"We made the morning shipment an hour ago, and the shipment for the scientists who will work at night will be before the sun sets!"
It wasn't good news for the orc warriors wanting to advance as soon as possible, but in a situation where they had no chance to choose, complaining was useless.
"A moment ago, you were saying you could return inside after sleeping a few hours, meaning no one will come looking for you for a while. How about you explain the Rejects and Research Floors to us in the meantime?"
Even though it came out of his mouth as a question, the man whose white coat was covered in blood, along with the eleven orcs around him, knew an order was given. He put his hands on the ground while exhaling the breath he held for a long time; the remains of his friend, whose shoulder he patted while entering the door, were filling between his nails.
"I will explain, but can I sit in a proper place?"
"Of course, boys, help out!"
Alyon looked as if he wanted to step forward, but Bookworm said the last word without giving the opportunity. If his father was fire, he had to be water now; if he showed the indiscretion of blowing like the wind, they could burn themselves along with the facility.
When they came to a gap not too far away and again remaining among crates full of materials, the assistant whose knees gave way collapsed to the ground again, but at least this time he caught the chance to sit on a dry surface.
"Let's talk about the Rejects' Floor. Explain what you know, if I sense you are hiding things, don't expect a death as fast as your friend's!"
Even though Alyon gave a great intimidation by turning the short man into meat mush, he had actually wasted the resources at hand. A torture process done without killing could be much more useful, and Bookworm wasn't bad at this at all. As the person responsible for the internal affairs of the Orc Empire, the criminals and agents passing through his hands were countless.
Two drops of purple liquid separating from the sleeve of his robe and flying to the fat man's hand were to prove his words, and it would be enough to motivate the man who started to tremble foaming at the mouth. When the symptoms ceased as if they never existed two hundred breaths later, Bookworm saw a familiar thing in the eyes of the man he interrogated, true fear!
"The Rejects' Floor, which is the second floor, is the place where the test subjects the Chief scientist couldn't get the desired results from in his experiments are used by other researchers in line with their own purposes. How can I explain? Think of it like this, inside a giant labyrinth with narrow corridors, there are rooms the size of which is slightly larger than the place we stand.
A hundred rooms, each belonging to different researchers, inside which experiments are conducted unceasingly, this is exactly what kind of place the Rejects' Floor is. After the materials they requested are prepared, we operate the mechanism allowing us to go down, and each of us is tasked with making deliveries to ten rooms.
We need to complete it and return within an hour, then we prepare the materials of the next shipment and knock off. This cycle continues every day without a hitch, there isn't even a minute without an experiment being conducted inside the Rejects' Floor!"
Now it was understood why there were so many orc corpses; there were a hundred experiment rooms and these places were in operation day and night unceasingly, but where was the place they raised the orcs they called logs?
"Explain the Research Floor!"
Like Bookworm, who voiced the question in his mind, the others were also curious. When they set out, they thought they would come to a place where orcs were produced like livestock and made into experiment material. When they stepped inside, they encountered dozens, even hundreds of pieces of evidence confirming the information that experiments were conducted, but they hadn't yet learned where their compatriots bred.
"I don't know what is there! I am truly telling the truth; the material list is given by the soldiers standing guard in front of the mechanism providing transportation, and the received things are taken down again by them.
The person we report to is the supervising scientist of the Rejects' Floor, and from what I've heard, no one other than him has the right to go down to a lower floor. My knowledge regarding the Research Floor is limited to the Chief Scientist being the only person conducting experiments on newborn orcs, and the others on the upper floor continuing to work with his failed results."
Bookworm, receiving the necessary information even if indirectly, also learned where the name of the Rejects' Floor came from. The fat assistant's body language confirmed he wasn't lying; as someone given the duty of counting materials, he had actually provided more information than expected of him.
"What needs to be done to enter inside?"
The last question would determine the direction of the first step to be taken for the second part of the operation. The fat man couldn't even swallow anymore; the inside of his mouth had turned into a desert longing for a drop of water. When the changes in his emotional state prolonged the response time, the liquid breaking free from the purple robe and approaching his face stopped a breath before touching his nose. Three small ellipse-shaped purple particles were gliding before his eye.
"Among the rocks, there is one whose color is slightly darker than the others. It will open when you press it!"
The moment the last letter of the last word left his lips, the three purple liquid particles passed by him and fell onto his tongue. After that it was silent; the eyes of the fat assistant, unable to take even a breath, were looking blankly now. With no authority left to control his muscles, his heavy body embraced the floor consisting of mottled rocks, rubbing against the crate he leaned his back on.