Boom!
The marble coffee table was shattered to pieces.
The boss of the Fighting Hall was stomping around the room in anger, having already smashed several floor tiles, cursing at the investigator in front of him.
"The Suppressant didn't work! How the hell did you handle this?!"
"It's impossible, I've injected a sufficient dose and even checked with my 'nerves'..."
The investigator lifted his right hand, and the nerves between his palms were actually self-detaching, wriggling in the air like living things, still smeared with the skin tissue from the Death Row Inmates.
The boss and this investigator were from the same cohort and knew well each other's efficiency; after calming down, he didn't blame him any further.
"Could the drug have been tampered with, or does this guy have some substance in his body that can neutralize the effect of the drug?"
