Chapter 60 – Interrogation
The container was dark and stifling.
An oil lamp sat on a metal crate, its flame flickering weakly and casting distorted shadows across the walls. The figures of the people inside stretched and wavered like ghosts.
Merle squatted in front of a toolbox, taking items out one by one as if sorting through toys: a large wrench, a pair of pliers, and a set of electric clamps. He lined them up neatly on the table.
Then he picked up a gasoline can, shook it, and nodded in satisfaction when he realized it was half-filled with water. He placed it carefully in the corner.
Crowley was tied to a chair. A white sock was stuffed in his mouth, muffling all sound except strained, desperate grunts.
His eyes darted frantically between the wrench, the water can, and the metal clamps in Merle's hands. Sweat streamed down his face.
"This is the first time I've ever used something like this," Merle muttered.
He stepped closer and crouched in front of Crowley, meeting his eyes.
"Do you know what this is?"
Crowley shook his head violently.
(The following interrogation contains disturbing content and is omitted for reader discretion.)
When it ended, Crowley's face was soaked with tears, saliva, and mucus.
"Are you going to talk or not?" Merle asked flatly.
Crowley shook his head again, sobbing.
Merle sighed, stood up, and picked up the wrench. He weighed it in his hand, then slowly lowered it toward Crowley's knee.
"If you don't talk, you won't need this leg anymore."
"Hey—hey, Merle!"
Daryl stepped out from the shadows and grabbed his wrist.
He glanced at the wrench, then at the sock still stuffed in Crowley's mouth, and sighed.
"Are you serious? With his mouth blocked, what exactly is he supposed to say?"
Merle paused.
He looked down at the sock, then back at the wrench, and finally realized the problem.
"…Oh."
He casually tossed the wrench back onto the table.
"Forgot about that."
He pulled the sock out.
Crowley gasped for air like a drowning man pulled from water. His face twisted as he coughed violently.
"I'll talk— I'll talk—!"
"Shut up," Merle slapped him once across the face. "Talk when you're told to talk."
Crowley immediately swallowed his cries, trembling uncontrollably but forcing himself silent.
Merle pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing his legs.
"Which faction are you from?"
"I… I was just wandering nearby…" Crowley stammered. "I didn't mean to provoke you…"
Merle kicked the chair out from under him.
Crowley crashed to the floor.
Before he could even scream, Merle crouched down and pressed a sheet of paper over his face.
He tilted the gasoline can. Water poured onto the paper, soaking it instantly until it clung tightly to Crowley's mouth and nose.
Crowley thrashed violently. The chair legs scraped and slammed against the metal floor as he struggled, but his hands were tied behind him.
Water filled his nose and throat. Panic exploded in his chest. He felt like he was drowning alive.
Just as his consciousness began to fade, Merle pulled the paper away.
Crowley collapsed, gasping and choking, his face covered in tears and saliva.
"I'll talk… I'll talk!" he screamed hoarsely. "I'll tell you everything!"
Merle leaned back, lighting a cigarette.
"Don't be so quick to talk. I haven't even warmed up yet."
Smoke drifted from his mouth as he glanced at the tools on the table.
"The wrench is useless… the pliers too… this is just the beginning."
Crowley shook violently. "Woodbury! I'm from Woodbury! The Governor sent me! Caesar Martinez sent me to track your base!"
Merle's expression didn't change.
He simply took another drag of his cigarette.
Daryl leaned against the wall, watching Crowley carefully.
After a moment, Merle stood, picked up the oil lamp, and turned toward the door.
"Where is Woodbury?" he asked.
"About forty-five miles south of Atlanta… a gated town…"
Merle nodded and walked out.
Daryl followed, glancing once at Crowley, who had slumped back into the chair, muttering incoherently.
After they left the container, Daryl lowered his voice.
"So… you think that Governor's going to come after us?"
Merle didn't answer. He only walked faster.
The third-floor office was silent when they returned.
Wu Fan finished reading the handwritten report and placed it on the table.
Woodbury.
A gated town forty-five miles south of Atlanta. More than seventy armed men. Their leader—known as the Governor.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
So there really was someone coming to test him before he even made a move.
After a long silence, he said, "You can go."
Merle and Daryl left without another word.
Once the door closed, Wu Fan activated the system panel.
The fourth level of the Hive—an advanced virology laboratory—required 20,000 points to unlock.
The golden lock icon glowed faintly on the screen.
"Red Queen," he asked, "after unlocking the fourth level, are there T-virus samples inside?"
The Red Queen's calm voice responded from the ceiling speakers.
"No. T-virus samples must be purchased separately from the SS-level store."
Wu Fan's eyes narrowed. "Then what's inside?"
"An advanced biosafety laboratory. It includes P4-grade containment systems, automated genetic analyzers, electron microscopes, and virus culture equipment. However, no biological samples are included."
He fell silent.
Then he opened the store interface and scrolled downward.
C-level, B-level, A-level, S-level, SS-level, SSS-level…
The higher tiers were still locked.
He clicked on the SSS-level icon.
"Insufficient permissions. Please unlock higher Hive levels first."
A trap, then.
Spend 20,000 points just to upgrade access rights.
Nothing more.
He exhaled slowly.
"After unlocking level four," he asked, "will I be able to access the SSS store?"
"No," the Red Queen replied. "Level four unlocks SS-level access only."
"And the SS-level items?"
"Prices range from 5,000 to 50,000 points."
Wu Fan's fingers paused.
Expensive.
Far more expensive than weapons or vehicles.
He looked out the window for a long moment, then stubbed out his cigarette.
"Unlock level four."
[Hive Level 4 – Advanced Virus Lab unlocked. Cost: 20,000 points.]
[Remaining points: 18,760.]
[Access upgraded to SS level.]
[SS-level store activated.]
The panel refreshed instantly.
New items appeared.
T-Virus ×1 — 5,000 points
T-Virus Serum ×1 — 7,000 points
Complete Viral Serum ×1 — 10,000 points
Hemostatic Healing Spray ×1 — 5,000 points
Wu Fan's gaze locked onto one item.
The Complete Viral Serum.
His eyes narrowed.
And he didn't look away.