Potter was escorted by two jailers, who were now in prison uniform and handcuffed.

He walked into a room where there was a table where several NCR servicemen were seated.

When he sat down, the lamp on the table was turned and shone directly on his face.

; Not....

Potter was shaken to the point where he couldn't open his eyes.

; I ask, you answer.

In the bright light, Potter could only see the pale chin of the man opposite.

; How long was your bank robbery planned?

; Three days, no matter how long it is, I'm afraid of leaking the news.

Potter replied with a narrow squint.

; Who first started the project?

The unknown man continued to ask.

; Harding.... Later, both of us were founders.

; What else?

; No, just the two of us and the people we brought.

; No way!

Potter looked at the person across from him in confusion, not understanding why he said that.

; There really isn't any... At least... As far as I know.

Everyone around him stared at Potter gravely and silently, making him feel that things were a little different from what he had imagined.

; Did something happen? .... How long will we be sentenced?

Potter asked this question with some anxiety, he was still thinking about the brothers, he couldn't figure out what went wrong this time the operation failed, but since the result was now, he still had to take responsibility for all the people in the 370 engineering team.

; How long?

The pale man knocked on the table.

; Your attack left the vaults of the NCR Eastern Bank empty, and now it's not far from being completely messed up, and the country's strategic plans have been ruined by your stupidity, and you still have the face to ask this question? Frankly, not just shooting you is really thanks to President Tanti for the Bill of Rights.

Potter's jaw dropped.

; How... But weren't we stopped by you?

The pale soldier stared at Potter as if trying to analyze something from his expression.

; It can be said that it was stopped, or it can be said that it was not stopped.... Our defenders of the Hoover Dam did urgently assemble in the National Bank after receiving a mysterious tip-off message, intending to wipe out all the robbers, but after the operation, we found that the bank vault had been opened at some point, and it was empty. This must be a good thing to do with your co-operatives, right?

Potter defended himself and the others in horror, insisting that they didn't know anything, that Harding had planned the simple robbery, that they had cooperated and provided explosives, and that the rest of them knew nothing and that the gold that had disappeared from the bank vault had nothing to do with them.

This pointless questioning lasted for half an hour, and the pale officer waved his hand for the guards to take Potter back to his cell.

; Maybe we should pry something out of his mouth by some more direct means, Lieutenant Hayzen.

A soldier said this indifferently.

; Of course I want to, but this person's identity is a bit special, and it's hard to move him.

Lieutenant Hazen flipped through a case book, frowning, thinking about the point of solving the case.

A week ago, the NCR Hoover Dam garrison office suddenly received a mysterious report letter at the door, mentioning that workers were preparing to attack the eastern branch of the NCR National Bank because of a wage dispute, and the time was the next day.

In order to arrest all the criminals and avoid future troubles and minimize losses, this time Lieutenant Hazen believed that the tactics of luring the enemy into deep encirclement and persuading him to surrender should be adopted.

The operation was ostensibly successful, except for one soldier who was shot dead by Harding, one of the first offenders, the rest were at best wounded. The robbers were killed more than five on the spot.

Lieutenant Hazen had expected this simple little victory to add to his resume, but when they inspected the vaults of the National Bank, they found that the gold was missing.

Mayor Dodge ordered Black Canyon Prison to get the gold hidden by the convicts who were cooperating with them as quickly as possible.

But all the efforts so far have been meaningless, and the workers have all firmly stated that their participation was indeed an attempt to loot the vaults, but in the end they were unsuccessful, and no other accomplices took the opportunity to enter the banks from elsewhere to seize the gold.

; What's going on here?

Everyone is thinking about this, either these workers are lying, or they are.... The bank's coffers have long been empty.

The latter possibility is too scary.

So, it can only be the former possibility.

Lieutenant Hazen touched his pale cheek and thought, now it seems that Harding probably knows something.... Potter's background should be clean, and even if he is suspected, he can't be tortured, because this person is protected.

; What did you get out of Harding?

; I used all the tricks, but I didn't.

A soldier on the side showed a helpless expression.

; That bastard is a prickly idea, I heard that he used to be a gang....

Lieutenant Haysom knew this, of course, and he knew that Harding should be enjoying it at this time; Generous treatment.

During the interrogation of the workers of the 308th Engineering Team, one of the workers confided in the torture that the foreman of the 308th Engineering Team, Harding, was likely to have been involved in heinous criminal activities in the past.

After reporting the clues, NCR commissioners arrived in Hoover Dam and confirmed that the individual had been involved in a terrorist attack on local officials in the NCR, and that he had also ransacked a small bank's cash cart with his accomplices.

In a cell in this place called Black Canyon Prison, a terrible scene is being staged at this moment.

A man in a suit and sunglasses looks at Harding, who is dying in a sturdy chair in his cell.

; How did you feel just now? Isn't it comfortable? Tell me, where are your accomplices? Where did you hide your gold? And the cases you have committed in the past, you have to tell them all one by one.

Nosebleeds dripped from Harding's nose, his eyes glazed over, and he had endured unimaginable torture for a week, scolding at first, and then silence and wailing.

Just now, the people of these national anti-terrorism bureaus poured a basin of water with some kind of material on his scarred body, and the sharp pain like peeling the skin almost drove him crazy, and he was hysterical and gibberish, not knowing what he was talking about.

; Silly x.

He struggled to move his mouth and spit out the word.

The agent in sunglasses nodded.

; Very well, Mr. Harding, let's play something more exciting.

An agent handed over a box of reagents, pulled out some strange liquids from it with a syringe, and walked over to Harding.

Harding shuddered in horror as the man approached him with a syringe in hand.

; No!!!

You are a genius, remember in a second: Red Sweet Spring: