Reincarnated with a Country Creation System

Inspector Damien stormed into the dimly lit cell, his anger palpable. His frustration had been building for days, compounded by Krieg's unyielding silence and the relentless pressure from his superiors. The door slammed shut behind him, echoing through the cold, damp corridor.

Johannes Krieg sat on the narrow cot, his posture as composed as ever. He glanced up, his calm demeanor an unspoken challenge.

"Couldn't stay away, Inspector?" Johannes asked, his voice steady despite his visible exhaustion.

Damien didn't respond. Instead, he advanced toward Krieg, his fists clenched. "Do you think this is a game, Krieg?" he growled, his tone venomous. "You sit there, smug and silent, while my career is on the line, while my country is on the brink of chaos."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Johannes's gaze remained unwavering. "Your frustration isn't my problem, Inspector. Perhaps you should take it up with your Tsar."

The taunt struck a nerve. Damien's hand lashed out, the back of it connecting with Johannes's face. The force sent him sprawling onto the cot, his head snapping to the side.

The guards outside exchanged uneasy glances but made no move to intervene. They knew better than to cross Damien when he was in this state.

"Get up!" Damien barked, grabbing Johannes by the collar and hauling him to his feet. The dim light highlighted the blood trickling from Johannes's split lip, but he didn't flinch. His silence only fueled Damien's rage.

"Why won't you talk?" Damien shouted, punctuating each word with a brutal punch to Johannes's torso. The blows were precise and deliberate, aimed to cause pain without leaving visible injuries that could later be used as evidence.

Johannes staggered but refused to cry out. His resolve was unshakable, a fact that enraged Damien even more. The inspector grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him against the cold, stone wall.

"You think you're a martyr? Some kind of hero?" Damien hissed. His face was inches from Johannes's, his breath hot and ragged. "Valoria doesn't care about you. They've abandoned you."

Johannes managed a weak smile, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't know Valoria as I do."

The defiance in Johannes's words ignited something primal in Damien. He struck him again, this time with a force that sent Johannes crumpling to the floor. Blood dripped from his nose, staining the concrete beneath him.

The junior officer from earlier stood in the corridor, listening to the commotion. He shifted uncomfortably, his hand resting on the butt of his rifle.

"Should we intervene?" one of the guards whispered, his voice laced with hesitation.

The officer shook his head. "Not unless Damien gives the order. He's the one responsible for the interrogation. In fact, we should just let him do what he wants, that Valorian journalist is giving us a hard time and a bad rap to the state police," the officer muttered under his breath. "Maybe a few broken ribs will loosen his tongue."

Inside the cell, Damien was far from finished. He loomed over Johannes, his chest heaving as he glared at the man sprawled on the floor. Despite his bloodied face, Johannes's expression remained defiant, as if every blow only strengthened his resolve.

"Get up," Damien snarled. When Johannes didn't immediately comply, Damien reached down, gripping his shirt and yanking him upright. The effort was unnecessary; Johannes struggled to his feet on his own, his movements slow and deliberate, like a man who refused to let pain dictate his actions.

"You think this makes you strong?" Damien barked. His fist collided with Johannes's jaw, the sickening crack echoing in the small room. "You're nothing! Just another puppet for Valoria!"

Johannes coughed, a wet sound that brought blood to his lips. He raised his head, his gaze steady. "And you're nothing but a dog on a leash."

Damien's face twisted with rage. He lunged at Johannes, slamming him against the wall again. The impact was brutal, and Johannes's head lolled for a moment before he regained his composure. The concrete scraped against his back, adding another layer of agony to his battered body.

"You don't understand, do you?" Damien hissed. "No one is coming for you. Your so-called Supreme Leader? He's probably already written you off as a loss."

Johannes chuckled weakly, the sound infuriating Damien further. "You talk so much, Damien," he said hoarsely. "Almost as if you're trying to convince yourself."

Damien struck him again, his fist finding Johannes's stomach this time. The journalist doubled over, gasping for breath, but even then, he didn't fall.

"Enough!" Damien roared, pacing the cell like a caged animal. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. He turned back to Johannes, who was leaning heavily against the wall, his face barely recognizable through the swelling and blood.

"You're not invincible," Damien growled. "Everyone breaks eventually. Everyone."

Johannes, despite everything, smiled faintly. "Then keep trying."

The junior officer and the guards stood in tense silence, listening to the sounds of the ongoing beating. One of the guards finally spoke, his voice low. "This is going too far. Damien's lost control."

The officer shook his head. "It's not our place to interfere. Let him finish. Krieg's resistance is an embarrassment to all of us. If this gets the answers we need—"

"And if it doesn't?" the guard interrupted, his tone sharp. "What then? We keep hitting him until he's dead?"

The officer hesitated, but before he could respond, the sound of a distant explosion rocked the facility. The walls trembled, and the lights flickered briefly. The guards immediately snapped to attention, their hands on their weapons.

"What the hell was that?" one of them muttered, his voice tight with alarm.

"Go check it out," the officer barked, motioning to the two guards. "Report back as soon as you know anything."

The guards nodded and hurried off, leaving the officer alone outside the cell. He reached for the radio clipped to his belt, his voice tense. "Central, this is Sergeant Kirov. We've had an explosion. Requesting immediate status update."

A crackling response came through. "Sergeant, the west perimeter has been breached. Unknown assailants—all units, be on high alert!"

Kirov's stomach dropped. He turned toward the cell door, debating whether to inform Damien. Before he could decide, the door swung open, and Damien stepped out, his face flushed and his knuckles bruised.

"What's going on?" Damien demanded, his voice sharp.

"Perimeter breach," Kirov replied quickly.

Damien's eyes widened briefly before narrowing with fury. "Secure the prisoner," he barked. "Double the guards on this cell. No one gets in or out."

"What about you?" Kirov asked, already fumbling for his radio.

"I'm going to deal with this myself," Damien said, his tone venomous.