John was busy getting [redacted] by the police after he tried to escape so Javier was next. But there was a different person in the interrogation room. This was a vigilante. His name is most unknown to the point that they dubbed him the Pale Ripper. To some, they would see him as a monster from the great below and others would see him as a very deeply disturbed man. Though in stature, he perfectly matched Javier.

  “Sit down.”

  “You first.”

  “You can leave.”

  The police officer was so shell shocked at the words of that he walked out of the room so abruptly that he just forgot to lock the interrogation room. The interrogation of prisoners had changed over the last few decades as it went from waterboarding and breaking bones to simply persuasive talking.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Well, it seems that you’re specialized in the art of talking. So, let’s get to it.”

  The world’s best boxer met the world’s best brawler.

  “Sure do.”

  Before he could throw a punch, Javier was caught off guard by the fact that he heard a bit of an American accent. When his brain was thinking about it, he felt something come up and connect with his jaw.

  “OW! That hurt so much! Why would you ever hit me there!”

  John was in the next room over. They were trying to remove his blindfold, but he kept sending them into the next room over before he was beaten further with batons.

  “What’s that!”

  Javier pointed in the opposite direction and somehow it worked. He landed a hit before the two went at it. Something they don’t do in boxing is use every part of their bodies as a way of harming another. Sure, his punches didn’t hit as hard, and he wasn’t as feather footed.