The unconscious interpreter stretched in his chair in the interview room, as if waking from a long slumber. But his body froze midway when he felt the deadpan gazes of Elinor and Mitch fixed on him.
Quickly recovering from the shock, he hurriedly apologized. "I'm sorry, this has never happened before. It seems all the overtime is finally catching up to me. I'm deeply sorry—"
"I understand. Overtime is a bitch. Especially when you're not even paid for it," Mitch said, sympathizing with the staff, causing Elinor and the interpreter to look at him suspiciously.
"Why isn't the apparatus connected to the convict?" the interpreter asked, noticing that the mind-reading device had been detached from Mitch and neatly stored back in its case.
"You don't remember what happened, do you?" Elinor asked, suspecting that Ace might have tampered with the interpreter's memory, causing him to forget the moments just before he was knocked out, making him believe he had simply dozed off.
"That—" the interpreter paused, then nodded. He couldn't recall how he had fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered was interpreting part of the graph and realizing it was gibberish. Now that Elinor had brought it up, he found it strange that he had simply fell asleep.
"Hey, cut him some slack, will you? He's been working overtime for who knows how long. Don't you have any compassion for your fellow employees?" Mitch rebuked Elinor, surprising the interpreter. Then, turning to the latter, Mitch added, "Back in the cult, they expected us to work overtime for months without pay. I know your pain—I've lived it. Quick, hook me back up to the apparatus before your higher-ups return."
"…" Elinor and the interpreter looked at Elder Mitch in disbelief, wondering if this was the same man who had been verbally attacking the interpreter's family tree every other second.
"I hate to agree with him," Elinor said, "but if you want to keep your job, hurry up and reconnect him to the apparatus. We can talk about what happened later." She didn't want the interpreter to lose his job over something that wasn't his fault. Still, she couldn't understand why Elder Mitch was being so disgustingly nice.
Now that the effects of whatever Ace had drugged them with had worn off, Elinor knew that her friend Mitch was gone, and sitting in front of her was Elder Mitch of the Samsara Cult. Yet, she was astonished to see him not only sympathize with the interpreter but even help him.
She began to suspect he was playing some kind of game, pretending to still be her friend Mitch in order to win her sympathy and exploit it later. With that thought, Elinor squinted at Elder Mitch, watching him try to act charming while trapped in the body of a pre-teen boy. 'Guh, disgusting!'
"Yes, thank you—thank you," the interpreter said gratefully as he rushed to hook Elder Mitch back up to the mind-reading apparatus. He was too worried about losing his job to dwell on anything else. He figured that if they started splitting hairs over what had really happened, the blame would probably fall on him. This way, he could at least keep his job and avoid another reprimand on his record.
After the interpreter hooked Mitch up to the apparatus, it didn't take long for the room to return to its earlier graveyard silence. The trio shared a tacit understanding not to speak of what had happened. It was a secret they intended to take to their graves.
"Special Agent Hundred Eyes, I'm compromised. I'd appreciate it if you could advise Major Bennett to assign another interpreter to this case," the interpreter suddenly said, unable to bear the guilt of having colluded with the descendant of the Overlords. Still, he didn't dare come clean. With the amount of debt he was in, losing this job would mean declaring bankruptcy.
"You and me, buddy. You and me both," Elinor sighed, clearly unhappy with how things had turned out.
Hearing this, a flicker of relief passed through Mitch's eyes. Elinor was already acting antsy. He figured it would be for the best if she made herself scarce before someone got suspicious. There was surveillance in Nastrond. So, no one would know what happened in here unless they laid it out for them.
The interpreter nodded at Elinor in gratitude, wondering why she had such a reputation for being difficult to work with. From what he had seen, she was actually a reliable and supportive teammate. Maybe some rumors were just that—rumors.
The interview room door slammed open, causing the interpreter to jump in his seat as General Kerrigan and Major Bennett entered, one after the other. Without sparing a glance at either the interpreter or Elinor, Kerrigan locked eyes with Mitch and asked the interpreter, "Tell me you've uncovered something useful."
"No, sir. Everything I've managed to interpret so far is just gibberish," the interpreter replied immediately, his eyes darting nervously to the purple vein bulging on the general's forehead.
"Good. Now clear the room—it feels crowded in here," Kerrigan said, handing his hat and coat neatly to Bennett before uncuffing and rolling up his shirt sleeves. Despite his age, his forearms still maintained a well-defined, aesthetic shape. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of knucklebuster-shaped curse gadgets, slipping one onto each fist.
Seeing this, the interpreter's years of experience kicked in, and he quickly exited the room, pretending to be oblivious to what was about to happen.
As the general continued preparing himself, Major Bennett glanced at Elinor, who showed no intention of leaving, and asked, "Do you have something to report, Agent Hundred Eyes?"
Ignoring the general, who was clearly preparing to beat the lights out of him, Mitch watched Elinor from the corner of his eye. He prayed she hadn't been lying when she said she wouldn't reveal Ace's involvement unless her higher-ups brought it up. He hoped she was the kind of friend she claimed to be—the kind who wouldn't lie for Ace and also wouldn't go out of her way to rat out Ace unless the situation demanded it.
"I'll be leaving to prepare for the National Asset trials. Also, the interpreter seemed overworked and exhausted. You might get better results if you replace him," Elinor said. Her father had personally begged them to assign her to guard the Overlords' descendant, so quitting now felt slightly embarrassing.
Bennett and Kerrigan didn't care that Elinor was leaving. If not for Prince's persistent pestering, they wouldn't have involved a kid like her in a case of this scale in the first place.
"I'll take your advice into consideration," Bennett replied.
"I'll take my leave, then."
Elinor left the room without looking back. She felt no sympathy for Mitch, knowing full well that he wouldn't hesitate to kill everyone in the country without blinking, all over something that happened centuries ago, forget who was at fault or who was right.
She was relieved that the General was too caught up in his own business to even glance at her, let alone ask what had happened while the curse terrorist had been under her watch.
Seeing Elinor leave the room, Mitch's expression relaxed, which only served to provoke Kerrigan, making him feel like the boy was challenging him to do his worst. So, without a word and ignoring Mitch's pre-teen appearance, Kerrigan landed a punch straight to his nose. Baam!
Mitch wasn't new to beatings—he could handle torture of inhumane proportions. A few punches from an old mortal were nothing. However, thinking he had skillfully avoided signing his death warrant, he couldn't help but smile unconsciously, further provoking Kerrigan.
Having regained clarity and control over his emotions, Mitch quickly deduced why Ace wasn't afraid of the government coming after him for breaking into Nastrond. It had to be because Ace had uncovered everything about the forgotten colony, Roanoak—a discovery significant enough to make him a national hero and possibly earn him a presidential pardon.
So, Mitch had done everything he could to ensure Elinor would never be forced to report Ace's involvement to her superiors. That way, she wouldn't have to hand over the USB drive Ace had given her to secure his freedom and keep him from ending up locked away in Nastrond beside him.
The formula was simple: as long as they didn't know Ace had been there, Elinor would have no reason to hand over the USB drive—or use it to save him. That meant they'd never find out what was on the USB drive, and Mitch wouldn't be labeled a traitor by the Roanoans.
It wasn't that Mitch had suddenly grown a conscience. He was simply ensuring he wouldn't be branded a traitor by his homeland, Roanoak—because the moment that happened, it would be as good as signing his own death warrant. While his family, one of the bloodlines of the Five Overlords, might remain physically safe, they would still come under intense scrutiny by the other four.
So, he wasn't just fighting for his interest but his family's interest too.