Chapter 340

The burning slap woke the unconscious young man, but he didn’t open his eyes immediately. Instead, he used his hearing to sense everything around him.

In special training, they were taught that opening eyes too quickly gave interrogators the impression the subject was still strong, leading to harsher methods.

If eyes opened slower, interrogators would think the subject was near their limit and avoid extreme torture to preserve them for crucial information.

Besides, listening carefully helped him understand the situation before opening his eyes.

Physical torture wasn’t the hardest part—it was just pain. Every spy sent abroad had anti-interrogation training, including enduring beatings.

The psychological break was the toughest. With proper preparation, one could calmly face what was coming.

Another slap made the young man slowly open his eyes, as if his strength was nearly gone.

He turned his head and saw the man playing his father’s role, tied to a chair beside him. Both were waking up, exchanging a glance without shouting foolish protests like wrong person.

Their captors were well prepared. Even if they weren’t spies, these people wouldn’t spare them.

Instead of shouting and provoking, they prepared to endure what was next.

The interrogator was a young officer around thirty. The National Security Council was partly military; having active-duty officers in leadership was normal.

The officer’s smile was unpleasant, almost effeminate. His eyes were like a venomous snake in a cave, ready to strike.

“To ease your burden, only one of you will live. I’m giving you this choice. You have one minute.”

He glanced at his watch, then turned away.

Soldiers with guns stood in the corners. Aside from the two chairs, the room was empty.

The officer stood with his back to them, hands behind his back, tapping the ball of his right foot as if keeping a rhythm.

The two exchanged a silent look. They refused to choose or speak.

They hadn’t expected the Federation’s interrogation to be so direct and efficient—starting immediately with psychological pressure. But under Gephra’s advanced training, this was just a small trick.

They believed the interrogators would take one of them to another room, then gunshots would follow.

They would say the companion was dead to break the survivor’s will, but they saw through this plan.

Time ticked slowly. Normally a minute passed unnoticed, but today it dragged endlessly.

The officer checked his watch again, turned, and smiled faintly. “Time’s up. Make your choice. Who lives, who dies?”

The two spies remained silent. They would soon be separated—probably the last time before deportation.

Perhaps knowing they wouldn’t die, they stayed calm. A quick sneer flashed across the young man’s face, then vanished.

“Seems you don’t want to cooperate. No matter, I’ll choose for you!” The officer wasn’t angry at their silence. His gaze shifted before settling on the young man.

“Young people are the future, the hope of the nation. So…” His eyes sharpened dangerously. “I’ll give the chance to the young man!”

He drew his pistol and fired at the older spy’s head before either could react—barely two seconds.

The young man’s expression froze, wet warmth sliding down his face.

His eyes filled with horror and emptiness. He slowly turned his neck. No encouraging mentor, no wise guide—only a shattered skull.

The bullet made a small hole in the forehead but tore through the back of the older man’s skull, leaving a fist-sized hole. Blood splattered the walls and floor.

This was nothing like his training or common sense.

“Clean up!” the officer ordered. Two soldiers expressionlessly untied the corpse, which slumped onto the young man.

Growing up, he’d accepted sacrifice, even witnessed it, believing it a noble moment that moved him.

But now there was no glory, no comfort—only fear. Tears threatened, not for sacrifice, but terror.

He never wanted to see that broken head on him again. His body trembled.

The corpse was dragged away, leaving a clear trail. Soon, a soldier cleaned the blood and sprayed disinfectant, filling the room with its scent.

“[Random Name], Gephra Royal Army Academy, Class 194…” The officer took a file from a soldier and read.

It was the young man’s dossier. He’d thought this info was top secret, but now it was in Federation hands.

As more detailed information leaked, the young man lost control. His mental defenses collapsed.

“You have a lovely younger brother and sister… and a fiancée named Julia. Everyone’s proud of you, waiting for your return…”

The officer smiled, handing the file to a soldier. “We could bring them here to reunite. They’d be happy to.”

“You get one chance. You’re not the most important. We have many other candidates. If you don’t satisfy me, don’t worry.”

“Because your family’s ashes, including your fiancée’s, will be buried with you!”

He paused, pulling a freshly disinfected chair opposite the young man. “Now, tell me something I want to hear…”

Many worked hard to strengthen the nation, but others dragged it down for money.

Elsewhere, a congressman on TV shook his head, his sagging cheeks swinging with the motion like an old woman’s.

“We shouldn’t provoke hostility or confrontation through force. Restoring production and economic vitality is our most important task.”

The congressman spoke confidently, gaining some support.

“I understand fostering international relations is necessary for the Federation’s next phase, but we must be selective. We shouldn’t buy diplomatic victories just for our glory.”

“That’s a disgrace to all diplomats and to the Federation!”

A young host pressed, “Did you just say buy?”

The congressman nodded. “Yes, buy. Our diplomatic ties with Nagaryll are essentially purchased with money. Such relationships won’t last and bring us no real benefit. This isn’t a normal, healthy diplomacy. We should end it.”

“I’ve seen the proposals. Every year, we provide Nagaryll with supplies and help build factories. If that money stayed here, I believe we could create at least fifty to a hundred thousand jobs for our people.”

“But our interim president tries to secure his election win by buying diplomatic favors. Honestly, this is disgraceful.”

“He harms the interests of all Federation citizens just to stay in power longer.”

The host’s expression grew grave, “And this relationship won’t last?”

The congressman nodded again. These questions and answers were well-rehearsed—part of the skills congressmen and hosts must master.

“If we stop aiding Nagaryll, these ignorant, backward, and greedy countries will abandon our diplomacy and turn to others.”

“This will be the most ridiculous joke in the Federation’s diplomatic history and its greatest shame.”

His words drew strong agreement, especially from the unemployed, who desperately want jobs to support themselves and their families.