Nietzsche squatted outside his hometown in the Tonghuan District with his arms crossed, looking at the endless flow of people on the street, his mind was blank, he didn't think of anything, and he couldn't think of anything.

He thought that he had seen political things more or less thoroughly, but he didn't expect that he was still too naïve. He couldn't resist Bethel, especially when Wren didn't come back, and in the face of the tough Bethel, Nietzsche found for the first time that he actually didn't have the foundation to straighten his waist. He was not a nobleman, not even a baron. Second, his position was not appointed by Her Majesty Bethel or Queen Pars, but by Wren, which in a way is a false appointment with no credibility. Three, behind Bethel stands the Empress, and behind him Wren is not there.

Only then did he understand why Wren wanted to punish him harshly last time, and he only understood at this time why Wren wanted him to keep a low profile, all because all his power was not his own.

He thought that even if he left the Ministry of Security, those former subordinates would not defect to Bethel, maybe they would wait for his return in the old library, or they might come to him with official business to approve it privately. He is too simple, so simple that he is terrible, in politics, in officialdom, there is no "love" to say. In the face of Nietzsche, who was swept away by Bethel, except for the two captains and deputy captains who brought him great humiliation and escorted him away, no one came to take him to the door, and it seemed that he didn't even need to take a second look.

All of them have become mute, blind, and deaf, and they may be currying favor with their new master at this time, right?

Nietzsche's numb face showed a trace of an ugly smile, he stretched out his hand and grabbed at the sky, power is really the most wonderful thing in the world, even if you lose a second, you will be like a drowning fool, and even breathing will become difficult.

He looked around blankly, and a group of mud dogs walked happily down the street.

Half a month ago, he never thought that he would have such a day. This is his own residence, the houses in the Silver and Gold Ring districts have been seized and confiscated, and Bethel is said to have compiled some evidence and intends to hand it over to the Supreme Prosecutor's Office and the Supreme Court for an examination of him. The reason for this was that during his tenure as Chief of Intelligence at the Imperial Ministry of National Security in Orlando, he had embezzled funds earmarked for field operations, and the amount was relatively large.

One of the most direct evidences is the houses in the Silver Ring and Gold Rings.

Bethel really doesn't intend to let him go, all the organs and departments of the entire empire, and the embezzlement of a part of the special funds is almost an unspoken rule of officialdom. Of course, it is not that no one behaves as if he were a holy person, but such people are always a very small number of individuals. Everyone is greedy, including Bethel, and he himself is greedy, but not much. More or less, in fact, there is no difference, the nature is there.

After Nietzsche had passed through the money, he would keep some of it himself, and divide the rest into four parts. One is Bethel's, he has never refused Nietzsche's behavior of sending him money, and even sometimes Nietzsche can feel that Bethel needs money very much, and he can't wait for his own behavior of sending money. One copy was to be given to the head of the housekeeping division, that is, in the possession of Wren.

There are also two copies that will be divided between the two divisions and the parties to the action.

This is the custom, but Bethel shamelessly used the routine to frame him, and he had the ability to report Wren and all the people who participated in the sharing of money.

Gritting his teeth, Nietzsche spat out a mouthful of saliva, which rolled on the ground mixed with mud, and soon wet the ground the size of a copper.

It's all muddy ground, and the dust is quite large, far from the clean and crisp feeling of the Golden Ring District.

He stood up, holding on to the door frame in the process of standing up, and squatting for a long time made his legs a little numb, and he felt a little uncontrollable.

His wife has left the imperial capital with the children, and of course there is still some of the money he secretly hidden, and now he can be said to be alone, and those who have grown up all day long have disappeared, even if they come to the door, they can't see them.

Nietzsche was already a little desperate, and if it weren't for the last vestiges of fantasy in his heart, he might have hung himself on the doorframe. He knew too well the methods of those people in the Ministry of Security, even if an iron man of steel entered, he would be turned into a puddle of mud in countless means.

With a light sigh, he turned back into the room and lay down in a casual chair. His fat body pressed against the chair and let out a difficult wail, but he didn't care in the slightest.

At night, two men dressed in dark blue and gold double-breasted and with ears of wheat on their shoulders pushed the door open. They were a little surprised that none of the doors from the door to the house were locked, and they seemed to understand Nietzsche's mood somewhat.

That's complete despair.

"We are the prosecutor of the Supreme Public Prosecutor's Office, and this is the arrest review document personally signed by the Chief Prosecutor, the Marquis of Rhine, and I hope you can cooperate. As they spoke, the two placed a document on the table with the personal seal of the Marquis of Rhine and the seal of the chief prosecutor of the Supreme Prosecutor's Office.

Nietzsche glanced at it nonchalantly and patted the corners of his somewhat wrinkled clothes, "Let's go." ”

Both of them froze, this was probably the first time they had met such a cool person in their work, and one of the younger prosecutors couldn't help but ask, "Don't you need to prepare?"

"Ready?", Nietzsche laughed sneeringly, "are you going to die? ”

In fact, Nietzsche knew very well that this was an inevitable procedure, but at the same time it could also be seen as Rhine's protection of him. As long as Rhine presses people to keep him out of the prosecutor's office under the pretext that he has not investigated clearly, then he is safe. Of course, it is impossible for Rhine to protect him by imprisoning him all the time, after all, behind Bethel, is Her Majesty, the female emperor of this empire, even if Rhine is able to help him for three or five days, it will be almost in place.

Sarcomo was obviously less fortunate than Nietzsche, and the General Tax Administration was itself a violent institution, with interrogation rooms and torture qualifications, so his life was much worse than Nietzsche's.

It's the seventeenth day.

Supported by two strong men wearing masks, Sarcomo was left in a restraint chair. No one "restrained" him this time, and even if he was asked to leave now, he would not be able to get out on his own.

Tutat's face was gloomy enough to drip water, and he walked back and forth in a rage, the case file in his hand was fierce, and he slammed it the table again and again. The first page of the entire case file did not contain a single word except for Sarcomo's personal information.

Seventeen days of interrogation, seventeen days of torture, the old man, who was about to be sixty years old, stood up alive, and he did not say a word. In the course of the interrogation, Tutat did not believe in evil, and a pampered businessman could still withstand their various methods, but the truth is that he did it, fainted several times, and even fainted with his teeth, and even poured water with great difficulty.

Sarcomo's eyes were as calm as ever, as calm as an ancient pool of stagnant water, and not even the slightest breeze could stir up the slightest ripple.

Tutat was a little disheveled at this time, and he had promised His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief that he would "figure things out" in the shortest possible time, but so far he had not received a word. The chief inquired about him more than once, and even His Majesty greeted him through the chief.

If he still can't get Sarcomo to speak at the end of the month, then he will have to get out of the way and replace someone with the ability.

Taking a deep breath to suppress the mania in his heart, Tutat casually straightened his messy hair, he strode to the restraint chair, pressed his hands on the armrests of the restraint chair, bent down, and stared at Sarcomo almost face to face, "I have communicated with His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief and His Majesty, as long as you say something about Rennes, we will let you go." You can change your name and surname and leave the imperial capital to continue to be your businessman, and we will give you enough preferential policies that even taxes will not be levied on you during your lifetime. ”

"Think about it, freedom, wealth, status, nothing is missing, you will still get the friendship of me and His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief, even His Majesty will pay attention to you, what else do you have to hesitate?", he straightened up sharply, stretched out his hand to neatly pull Sarcomo's collar neatly, fastened the button, and wiped the already dry blood on the side of his chin, "It's just a few words, why bother?"

Sarcomo's eyes didn't fluctuate in the slightest, and he looked up at Tutat, who didn't care in the slightest despite the severe pain all over his body. It was as if he was looking at the world from another angle, and the most primitive reactions from his body could not act on his soul. His cheeks squirmed, and he spat bloodshot on Tutat's face.

"The Marquis de Rennes told me that when a man starts to go crazy, it means that he is not far from death. Sarcomo's tone was calm, so calm that Tutat's heartstrings began to vibrate, "If you feel the need, you can kill me." A smile suddenly appeared on his face, proud, contemptuous, and pitying...... "But, do you dare?"

Tutate's lungs were about to explode, and he was about to retort to Sarcomo, but Sarcomo blocked his words with words, "Do you want to say that you dare? Come on, ......", he reluctantly raised his hand, his forearm was twisted and broken, and his palm was almost out of instinct, he pressed his hand against his collar, and his fingertips were aimed at his throat, "Come on, cut here, do you dare?"