Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

Chapter 282: Chapter 277: Prisoner’s Dilemma

Minas Tirith, the temporary medical ward.

Velin had just left the bedside of a grievously wounded defender when Tristan hurried after him, a document in hand.

Divine Art wasn’t a panacea. After the bleeding was stopped and the wounds were closed, the injured still needed time to rest and recover.

"My Lord, the preliminary interrogation results are in. They’re not good." Barrett’s voice was laced with anger. "Those five Multi-Armed Race officers are tough. Conventional methods can’t get them to talk."

"That’s to be expected." Velin washed the blood from his hands in a basin of clean water, his movements unhurried. "What about Master Valerius? I recall him mentioning a ’truth serum’."

"The Master tried it."

"The truth serum might work on ordinary people, but its effect on these iron-willed Level 5 Transcendents is negligible. They can easily use their Spiritual Power to resist the drug’s effects, and even feed us false intelligence."

"As for mental Magic... we don’t have anyone skilled in that field. Besides, a forcible soul-search would likely destroy their brains, leaving us with nothing of value."

Velin dried his hands, taking the towel Barrett offered him.

"So we can’t count on Magic or potions."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Then we’ll do it my way." Velin tossed the towel back into the basin. "Go now. Separate the five officers and place them in solitary confinement. I want five special cells constructed."

...

Deep beneath Minas Tirith, newly excavated water cells were completely isolated from the clamor on the surface.

There were no torches here, only pitch-black darkness.

Icy seawater filled five separate stone chambers, the depth precisely controlled to submerge half the length of a Multi-Armed Race member’s tentacular limbs.

This half-aquatic, half-terrestrial environment, leaving them neither fully submerged nor fully on land, was designed to make them uncomfortable.

Korsh floated in the pitch-black, icy water. His limbs were shackled to iron rings on the wall, leaving only his head able to move with difficulty.

An unknown amount of time passed before a message streamed into his thoughts through the hive-terminal at the base of his skull.

[I am Velin, the lord of the territory you invaded. What you do next will determine your own fate, as well as the fate of all your subordinates.]

[The rules are as follows.]

[One: If all five of you provide intelligence, you will all be treated with leniency.]

[Two: If one or more of you provides intelligence, the informant and their kin will be pardoned. Those who resist will be executed.]

[Three: If all five of you resist, then every captured Multi-Armed Race warrior, aside from yourselves, will be executed.]

The flow of information ceased.

Silence.

Korsh didn’t move.

He closed his eyes, letting the seawater steep his wounds.

His mind raced, analyzing the three rules.

It was a flawless psychological trap.

Velin’s true goal was intelligence, but he had cleverly shifted the pressure of obtaining it onto the five of them.

’Risking the lives of more than twenty of my kinsmen to defend my own "loyalty"?’

’That was too heavy a burden for anyone to bear.’

’And that fellow Titus... he has a brood of newly hatched young at home. He would almost certainly compromise.’

’If even one of them softened... their alliance, held together only by a tacit understanding, would immediately crumble.’

’Velin wanted them to think—if it was inevitable that someone would talk, what was the point of resisting?’

’It would be a pointless death, and their people would gain nothing.’

’Resistance had been twisted from a glorious sacrifice into worthless stupidity.’

’The logical conclusion, then, led to the second rule: someone was bound to confess.’

’The first person to speak wouldn’t be seen as a traitor by their surviving kin; instead, they would become the "hero" who saved their brethren.’

’Because his "sacrifice" would preserve the lives of the other warriors.’

’As for the fellow officers who resisted to the end... they would die, and dead men can’t point fingers.’

’What was more terrifying was that, following this line of reasoning, the probability of anyone but himself confessing became infinitely large.’

’Worse still, his own stubbornness would prevent his people from receiving clemency.’

’What was the point?’

Korsh thought it over and over, realizing just how vicious the rules were.

It seemed to offer a choice, but no matter how he analyzed it, the optimal solution for the group was to confess.

Just then, a stone door was pulled open, and a dim ray of light pierced the darkness.

Barrett walked in with two of his men.

The instruments of torture in their hands made Korsh’s pupils contract—they were iron rods with barbs, designed for tearing flesh.

Barrett said nothing. His one eye swept coldly over Korsh before he walked straight to the noisiest cell next door.

The stone door shut.

Soon, muffled, intermittent groans could be heard faintly through the wall.

After the mental torture came the physical pain.

Korsh laughed. ’The outcome could only be option "One."’

[I demand to speak with Lord Velin.]

There was no response.

After some time, the stone door to the next cell opened again.

Barrett walked out. The iron rod in his hand dripped with blue-black blood.

Without a glance at Korsh, he headed for the next cell.

Korsh sent another message. This time, he added a bargaining chip.

[I have intelligence regarding the Original Blood Crystal!]

This time, Velin’s voice sounded directly in his mind, with only a single word.

[Speak.]

[Our target is the Original Blood Crystal vein beneath your territory.]

Korsh threw out his first bargaining chip without hesitation. [It is crucial for the continuation of our clan.]

The sound of unhurried footsteps echoed down the corridor of the water prison.

Velin appeared outside Korsh’s cell. Behind him followed a scribe, holding a pen and paper, ready to take notes.

[Just before you contacted me,] Velin began, [two others already confessed.]

Korsh’s heart seized.

’A step too late?’

[They laid out General Grash’s entire battle plan,]

[including the details of how you used the abnormal currents in Trench Three to evade detection by the kingdom’s navy.]

Korsh stared into Velin’s eyes, searching for any sign of a bluff.

But he saw nothing.

’The currents in Trench Three... That was top secret, formulated by General Grash himself. Only the few of us in his core command knew about it.’

’He had lost his advantage.’

’The value of his bargaining chips was plummeting.’

[I can tell you everything.] Korsh conceded, his voice hoarse. [Chieftain Unas’s entire plan, the size of our main force, the secrets of our clan...]

He paused, then stated his condition.

[I only ask that you spare the two dozen captured rank-and-file warriors. They were just soldiers following orders.]

Velin didn’t answer immediately.

He glanced sideways at Tristan’s notes before his gaze returned to Korsh.

[I grant your request.]

Korsh’s tense body relaxed slightly.

[However,]

Velin’s tone shifted. [There is an additional clause.]

[I will pardon the common soldiers. But any who personally killed a citizen of Minas Tirith during the harbor attack must pay for their actions.]

Velin raised his hand, and Tristan immediately passed him a diamond-shaped crystal.

Velin pressed the crystal against the magical barrier.

The crystal lit up, projecting a three-dimensional, moving image in front of Korsh.

The scene showed the harbor of Minas Tirith engulfed in flames.

A Multi-Armed Race warrior stabbed a bone blade through the chest of a human artisan who had already dropped his tools and was kneeling, begging for his life.

The scene switched.

Another Multi-Armed Race warrior used its limbs to drag a soldier attempting to flee by jumping off the pier into the water, strangling him to death.

They were all scenes of slaughter.

Korsh watched the images, unable to refute them.

[I... accept.] Korsh lowered his head.

[Very good.] Velin withdrew the Memory Crystal. [Now, begin.]

Korsh collected his chaotic thoughts and began to tell them everything.

[General Grash’s forces were merely the vanguard. Our chieftain, Unas, is currently mustering the main army.]

[The main army? What is the full strength of your clan’s forces?] Tristan pressed from the side.

[Under Chieftain Unas, there are three ’Tidal Wave’ class War Giant Beasts, each one larger and more destructive than the siege turtle General Grash brought. There are over four hundred elite warriors, among them eight Centurion-grade, Level 5 powerhouses.]

Tristan’s hand, which had been recording, froze in midair.

[Chieftain Unas himself, moreover, is a Level 5 Peak powerhouse.]

A brief silence fell over the water prison.

One Level 5 Peak powerhouse, three strategic-level behemoths, eight Level 5 officers, and four hundred elite warriors.

This was a terrifying force, enough to wipe an entire Duchy off the map.

[When will they arrive?] Velin broke the silence.

[Roughly one month. It takes time to muster and to cross the sea.]

[What exactly is your need for the Original Blood Crystal?]

[It’s physiological,] Korsh explained. [Our bodies require periodic absorption of the Original Blood Crystal’s radiant energy. Otherwise, we begin to decay and age from the inside out. That vein is the only major deposit our clan has discovered. We... can never abandon it.]

Velin looked with satisfaction at Tristan’s densely packed notes.

He continued, [Excellent. Now, tell me why you cut off your own heads to escape?]

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