Chapter 62 Joking!

We got back to the station and took Eugene straight to the interrogation room.

He slumped into the chair, hands clenched tight, his whole body trembling. His school uniform was filthy, covered in stains, and his hair was a mess. He looked like he'd been through hell.

He kept his head down, avoiding my eyes. His face was pale, lips tinged blue, like he was about to pass out.

I spread out the photos of Ralph's body and the gruesome injuries, one by one, right in front of him.

Eugene's head jerked up. The second he saw the photos, he started shaking violently. His face went ghostly white, pupils blown wide like he'd seen a nightmare. He couldn't look at the photos, shaking his head frantically, muttering, "It wasn't me, I didn't do it…"

His lips quivered, and his voice was on the edge of breaking.

"Eugene, cut the crap. We found your fingerprints at the scene," I said, my tone cold and sharp.

"I didn't kill anyone, I swear!" He broke down, tears streaming down his face, his body shaking even harder.

Ignoring his pleas, I kept describing Ralph's brutal injuries, trying to break him down.

"Ralph had broken ribs, his skull was smashed, and his ear was cut off. Do you know how horrible his death was?" My voice was low, simmering with anger.

Eugene's trembling got worse. He covered his ears, shaking his head wildly, eyes wide with terror like he'd seen a demon.

Suddenly, he looked up, eyes bloodshot, and screamed, "He deserved it! He was a monster! He should've been sacrificed!"

"Sacrificed?" My heart skipped a beat. He knew something! "What sacrifice? Who told you to do this?" I pressed.

Eugene clammed up again, head down. No matter how much I pushed, he wouldn't talk. He just kept muttering, "The devil… the devil will come for me…"

His body kept trembling, like he was in a state of pure fear.

The interrogation hit a wall. Eugene was like a stubborn, foul-smelling rock, impossible to crack. He seemed trapped in some deep fear, unable to escape.

Frustration gnawed at me. It wasn't a good feeling.

I walked out of the interrogation room, rubbing my temples. Eugene's state was seriously off. He seemed controlled by some fear, muttering about "the devil" and mentioning "sacrifice."

Those words made me uneasy. They hinted at some unspeakable secret, something darker and more twisted than just school bullying.

I needed a breakthrough, and fast. This case couldn't drag on.

"Next, bring in Gerald," I ordered.

Alan nodded, familiar with my urgency. He knew how badly I wanted to crack this case.

Gerald strutted into the interrogation room.

He was tall, dressed in a designer tracksuit, his hair slicked back—a stark contrast to Eugene's disheveled state.

He wore a slight sneer, looking indifferent to us cops.

He sat down, crossing his legs like he was lounging in his living room instead of an interrogation room.

"Gerald, I hope you'll cooperate with our investigation," I said bluntly.

"Cooperate?" Gerald sneered. "Officer, I didn't do anything. What do you want to ask?" His tone dripped with disdain, like we were a joke to him.

"Do you admit you bullied Ralph?" I asked directly.

Gerald shrugged, nonchalant. "What's there to admit? Yeah, I bullied him. He was a nerd, always reading. It was annoying."

I pointed to the gruesome photos and tossed them in front of him. "Look at what you did to him."

Gerald glanced at the photos, his brow furrowing slightly before he quickly masked his reaction. "We were just messing around. Who knew he couldn't take a joke?"

"A joke?" My anger flared. I slammed the table, making a loud noise. "You call this a joke? You beat him like this and call it a joke?"

Gerald's body trembled slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. He looked up, eyes defiant. "I said his death had nothing to do with me. He killed himself! What does that have to do with me?"

He was still being stubborn. His attitude made me even more certain he was hiding something.

Just then, the interrogation room door opened, and Nancy walked in with a report.

She looked serious, her face a bit pale, like she had found something big.

"Mr. Williams, we found out that Gerald's father, Douglas Rivera, is an executive at a financial company in Twilight City," Nancy said, her voice trembling slightly.

"And?" I pressed, feeling a growing sense of unease.

"This company..." Nancy hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "This company has close financial ties with 'The Invisible Hand.'"

My heart sank, like a heavy stone had dropped into it.

I looked at Gerald. Panic flashed in his eyes, but he quickly tried to hide it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gerald insisted, but his lips were starting to tremble.

I stood up and walked over to Gerald, my gaze sharp as a knife, locking onto his eyes.

"Do you know someone whose code name is 'Mentor'?" I asked directly.