"That... I didn't do anything!"
The middle-aged man watched as the masked interrogator simply touched his head and then lapsed into a long, eerie silence. His heart began to hammer against his ribs.
Only he knew the true purpose of his visit to Konoha Hospital.
He felt his only choice was to argue as much as possible. This interrogator looked young and potentially inexperienced. If he could just admit to a minor offense, the whole thing might blow over.
"Shut up."
Qingyu's voice snapped like a whip, his tone suddenly becoming so fierce he seemed like a different person.
Turning away, Qingyu walked toward the tool rack in the corner of the small cubicle. The rack was lined with implements of interrogation—tools he hadn't touched a single time since arriving.
He hadn't expected his first time using them to be like this.
The cubicle wasn't large, but it was packed with variety. While it lacked the "prestige" of the main Torture Force black room, it still boasted over thirty different types of torture devices. Qingyu's gaze swept over the racks before settling on a thick, heavy iron chain.
The chain was over a meter long, rusted and stained with dark, indelible spots—the residue of blood from countless predecessors.
Qingyu reached out, gripped one end of the chain, and lifted it.
Clink... clank... drag...
The sound of the heavy iron scraping across the stone floor grated on the ninja's nerves, heightening his anxiety to a fever pitch.
"You... what are you doing?"
The middle-aged man's eyelid twitched. Even as a Chunin from the Hidden Sand, being bound and facing the unknown was terrifying. If he used a substitution or escape jutsu now, his identity as a deep-cover spy would be instantly compromised.
"Interrogating."
Qingyu spat out the single word, his dark eyes staring through the cat mask with predatory focus.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, the muscles in Qingyu's right arm bulged. He swung the massive chain with a violent, practiced motion. The raw physical strength he had cultivated through his secret training sessions exploded, driving the heavy iron directly into the man's chest.
CLANG!
The impact of metal on flesh was deafening.
CRACK!
Underneath the roar of the chain, the sickening sound of snapping bone echoed clearly in the small room.
"Waaaaagh!!"
The man screamed in agony. He hadn't expected the first move to be such a brutal, direct strike. He could feel his sternum and several ribs shattering. Sharp, white-hot pain flooded his nervous system, and a trickle of blood escaped the corner of his mouth.
"Wait... that's not... that's too much..."
The man gasped, struggling to catch his breath. He wasn't an interrogator, but he knew those chains were meant for binding, not for use as a flail! If he took a few more hits like that, he'd be dead before the day was out.
Through the haze of pain, a giant question mark formed in his mind: Are Konoha's punishments this insane? All he did was sneak into a hospital. Technically, he hadn't even stolen anything yet! This was beyond excessive.
"This thing doesn't work well," Qingyu remarked, tossing the chain casually to the floor. He didn't want to kill the spy yet; he just wanted to set the tone.
"I'm a newcomer to the Torture Force. I haven't been here long, so I'm not very good with these tools. Hang on while I find another one. I'll make sure you're 'comfortable' this time."
Behind the mask, Qingyu's lips curled into a cold, menacing arc. He turned back to the pile of tools.
"No... no need..."
The man choked on a mouthful of blood, nearly blacking out.
"I'll confess! I'll tell you everything! Just don't touch those things..."
The spy had completely bought into Qingyu's "rookie" persona. If this idiot kept "practicing" on him with heavy chains, he'd be a corpse within minutes.
"Dealing with a man of character like you is such a hassle," Qingyu sighed with mock helplessness. His words, so disconnected from the man's desperate plea to confess, left the spy utterly stunned.
"I guess I have no choice..."
Qingyu reached down and picked up a pair of massive, heavy-duty iron pliers. They were similar in texture to the chain—rusted, pitted, and caked in old blood.
"I'll just have to increase the intensity!"
Qingyu began walking back toward him, pliers in hand.
"Wait... stop... please..."
Seeing the massive pliers and remembering how the "rookie" had used the chain as a club, the spy felt a primal surge of terror.
"Let's see if you'll talk this time!"
Qingyu shoved the pliers toward the man's face.
In Eaton's memories, Qingyu had seen these pliers used for tearing out fingernails. The pain of "ten fingers to the heart" was usually enough to break anyone, especially if done slowly, one by one.
But Qingyu was playing a "rookie." He didn't know how to use them. He just lunged at the man's face with the heavy iron.
"What... what are you doing?!"
The spy's heart nearly leaped out of his chest. He instinctively tried to struggle, but the agony in his chest flared, pinning him to the spot.
"Your mouth is too tight. I'm going to pull your teeth out and see if that lets the secrets leak out," Qingyu said calmly.
"I'll talk! I'm talking! I'm already talking!" The man shivered violently. He wasn't afraid of a professional who followed a script; he was terrified of this loose cannon who didn't even know what he was doing.
"I haven't seen someone this unyielding in a long time," Qingyu ignored him, opening the pliers and moving them toward the man's mouth. His voice was eerily gentle. "Open up."
"Mmmph! Mmmph!" The man clamped his jaw shut, eyes wide with horror. He couldn't open his mouth—if he did, those pliers would take everything.
"Your mouth really is sealed shut. I can't even see your teeth," Qingyu noted, his tone implying he had figured out the spy's "game."
"???!!!" The spy wanted to scream that he was trying to talk, but with the pliers inches from his face, he didn't dare open his mouth. He cursed his luck; two years of deep-cover work, only to end up like this.
"Well, there's only one way. To make you confess, I'll have to open your mouth for you."
Qingyu suddenly swung the massive pliers like a hammer, aiming directly for the man's mouth with full, unrestrained force.
He felt no pity. As a ninja of Konoha, Qingyu was "selfish." He wanted his peace and his quiet memory-reading. This spy was a "trouble" that needed to be erased, especially since his intel could lead to the deaths of Konoha's shinobi.
The spy watched the iron grow larger in his vision. He felt a massive shock, a sickening crunch, and then a world of blinding pain.
BAM!
The pliers smashed into the man's mouth. Teeth shattered like glass. His lips burst, spraying blood everywhere in a gruesome display.
"I see I'm still being too merciful," Qingyu said, tossing the pliers aside and turning to look for something else. "To handle a tough nut like you, I'll have to show you my real skills."
"I... I'll... talk..."
The man's voice was garbled, blood flowing freely as he tried to speak.
"Still not talking, huh?"
Qingyu stopped in his tracks and gave the man a thumbs-up.
"Truly a man of character!"