At midnight, in an abandoned wine cellar, Leon and his daughters were discussing how to extract information.

Leon rubbed his wrist, bloodstains faintly visible on his knuckles. "Torture is no longer effective. If he was going to talk, he would’ve done it after the first punch. If he hasn’t by now, more hitting won’t change that."

"Dad, your punch isn’t exactly comparable to a normal person’s punch," Aurora remarked, realizing something. "Wait, I need to check if those two are still alive."

Leon held his younger daughter back. "Relax, I controlled my strength. I’ve interrogated people before, back during the …