Chapter 63: The Informant’s Confession

“Where… where am I? Where have you brought me?!” Ella stammered, struggling to stand.

Fran reached out a hand. A whistling gust of air followed, culminating in a stinging slap across her face.

The hand was exceptionally cold. Ella’s head snapped to the side, a sharp ‘smack’ echoing in the room, followed by a burning sensation that immediately flared across her cheek.

She hadn’t even processed what was happening before Fran’s single slap left her utterly stunned.

“You certainly ask a lot of questions,” Fran sneered. He felt no pity for the person before him, one who had betrayed the Patriot Alliance and indirectly caused the deaths of Colonel Raif and every member of the rescue team.

He took two steps back, then nonchalantly began to mock her inquiries. “We’re simply giving you a taste of your own medicine. Fishing? Heh, the Teutonics can do it, and so can I! You’re nothing but a fish that took the bait. The moment you walked through the door, our people knocked you out.”

“As for where you are, don’t worry, this is a basement. So, you can scream until your throat gives out, and no one will come to save you! Our people knocked you out, placed you here, and then left. I arrived afterward, alone, to interrogate you. Indeed, I am the most qualified person to question you!”

Fran turned, beginning to select items from a nearby table. Ella watched him, one hand holding a gun, the other a knife. He looked left and right, appearing, in every conceivable way, to be choosing his execution tools.

Ella panicked. She quickly pleaded for mercy. “No, please don’t be rash! I’ll tell you everything, anything you want. As long as you promise not to kill me, I… I’ll confess everything…”

“Oh?” Fran returned to his seat, running a hand through his hair. He smiled at the person before him. “Alright, I’m going to start asking questions now. Let’s see how you perform…”

Watching Fran’s cold, mocking expression, Ella couldn’t help but tremble.

Just a few days prior, she had observed Fran closely. Back then, standing among the Teutonic agents, he had seemed so innocent and naive, a pitiful figure easy to deceive.

But now…

This was no angel; he was a devil incarnate. A chill ran down her spine. No matter how much disdain she had felt for him before, at this moment, she was the prey caught in the hands of a ruthless agent.

She had no choice but to lower her head and listen to his questions.

“First question: Are you the ‘carrier pigeon’? Did Lyon instruct you to provide false intelligence about my capture to the Patriot Alliance? How did you transmit the information? And what was the Patriot Alliance’s reaction?”

Fran slapped the table, posing his first question, exerting immense pressure on Ella.

In truth, Fran already largely knew the answer to this question. Asking it now served two purposes: to verify his suspicions and to see if Ella would speak the truth.

Ella remained silent for a moment, seemingly still hesitating. She could tell that Fran cared deeply about the rescue team’s capture and worried if telling the truth would further enrage him.

But… what would be the consequence if she didn’t tell the truth?

If he discovered she was lying repeatedly, something even more terrifying might await her.

Ella furrowed her brow and resigned herself. She was already in the hands of these people; she couldn’t be entirely blamed for what the Teutonics had made her do, could she?

“Yes, I am the carrier pigeon. I actually overheard Quidar and others discussing your situation in the tavern, but at the time, I didn’t realize it was false information, nor did I act rashly and tell anyone. It wasn’t until a few days later that Lyon contacted me and asked me to relay the message to the Patriot Alliance.”

Ella continued, trembling, “I informed everyone about it at the meeting, pretending to be very scared and worried about the captured individuals. Everyone was hesitant at first, but there was an old Imperial veteran who, upon hearing your name, became agitated and insisted on rescuing you. Additionally, many in the organization were old comrades…”

“Enough! Stop talking!” Fran cut her off, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath. He then painfully covered his face, feeling as if countless knives were piercing his heart.

After a long silence, Fran opened his eyes, his gaze cold as he continued to question the person before him:

“Second question: When did you become Lyon’s informant? How did you contact him?”

“I…” Ella began, somewhat abashed.

“I met him… at a nightclub. Ah, don’t misunderstand! I was just drinking with some other Teutonic soldiers when I accidentally let slip some information about the Patriot Alliance. He overheard it, approached me, and… used a large sum of money to recruit me.”

“So, you became Lyon’s informant for money, then?”

Facing his aggressive questioning, Ella still tried to deflect.

“I… I was only trying to protect myself.”

“How much money does Lyon give you each month?” Fran tilted his head. The other person froze, then awkwardly lowered their head and explained, “Roughly… roughly a few hundred.”

“Pfft, that’s several times what I earned working at the tavern, and more than what a typical spy in Army Intelligence makes. Ella, your value is quite high, isn’t it? This ‘self-preservation’ of yours… it’s almost made you financially free, hasn’t it?”

Ella fell silent. She kept her head down, not daring to utter another word. She had indeed worked very hard to provide Lyon with a large amount of intelligence, all to earn more money.

“Heh, alright, I understand most of what you’ve told me. Now, tell me about your contact with Lyon.” Fran glanced at his watch, then looked up and continued to ask, “How do you contact him? I heard… you even use telegrams?”

“Initially, it was through letters. Later… Lyon gave me a radio and a codebook. We usually contacted each other by sending telegrams. To avoid exposure, we rarely met… I would usually send a message first, then wait for his reply and instructions.”

Ella had laid everything bare. Fran nodded with satisfaction, then continued to question her:

“Third question: Where are the radio and codebook Lyon gave you? How do you send telegrams, what are the operating steps? And… how often do you meet Lyon?”

“Uh…” Ella thought for a moment, then looked up and asked, “You… this… I understand. If you are willing to spare my life, I would be happy… to serve as your informant…”

“You should answer my questions directly, do you understand?!” Fran demanded, pulling out a dagger. The blade’s sharp glint made Ella shiver, and she quickly nodded, speaking hastily:

“Yes… I understand. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you… The radio and codebook are hidden in the cabinet in my house. Our usual telegram format is also kept in the cabinet. I usually send a report in the morning, and Lyon doesn’t insist on meeting; there’s no fixed meeting time, it’s always by notification…”

‘I see,’ Fran thought, nodding with a cold smile. “Last question: What are Lyon’s next instructions for you?”