Luke just wanted to join the fun and follow the FBI to gather some news, but unexpectedly ended up making a contribution.

He caught George, which made things awkward.

He originally just wanted a sip of soup, but the meat fell into his mouth; he couldn't bear to spit it out.

However, with a group of FBI agents eyeing him, Luke couldn't take all the credit himself.

Anthony offered him a cigarette, put his arm around his shoulder, and the two went aside to discuss.

Finally, both sides decided on a joint interrogation.

The interrogation didn't take place at the police station but at an FBI secret hideout.

This was also to create an invisible pressure on George during the interrogation.

In a spacious, rundown factory building.

A man with a black hood over his head and his hands and feet shackled was pressed onto a chair.

Standing around the chair were four people: Luke, Jackson, Anthony, and one of his Mexican agents.

The Mexican agent stepped forward and removed George's hood.

George lifted his head, glanced around, with a bit of panic in his expression.

Anthony sat on a broken table beside him, looking down, "Hey, boy, what's your name?"

"George."

"Full name?"

"George Sal." He cautiously observed his surroundings, "Where is this place?"

"That's not a good question. Everyone who knows this place is dead. Do you want to be next?"

George Sal shook his head, "Why did you bring me here?"

Anthony didn't answer, but asked, "Where's the oil painting?"

George Sal remained silent.

Luke also pulled up a chair and sat down, saying to George Sal, "Do you want to get out of here?"

George Sal trembled slightly, nodded, "I want to."

"Then help us find the oil painting, and I guarantee you can walk out of here." Luke patted him on the shoulder with a confident expression.

George Sal looked at Jackson and the Mexican agent, noticing their eager eyes on him.

His body turned cold and he started to tremble again.

This was the result Luke and Anthony wanted.

They didn't choose to take George Sal to the police station or a formal FBI office, but to a secret hideout to give the impression of potential violence.

Additionally, they didn't start by asking about the case or his accomplices, but directly about the oil painting's location.

This was to give the impression of selfishness, as law enforcement with personal motives are frightening.

"We want the oil painting.

We want the reward.

That's why we brought you here.

If you dare not speak, we'll 'deal with you.'

This isn't the police station.

Here, there are no human rights, no lawyers, only absolute compliance.

Life and death don't matter."

Thinking of this, George's trembling intensified.

"Squeak..."

Beside him, the Mexican agent pushed a worn-out cart over, filled with various tools: branding irons, sharp spikes, hammers, basins, and so on.

George, with a shaky voice, asked, "What are you going to do?"

Anthony lit a cigarette and took a puff, "The oil painting, we just want the oil painting."

George shook his head, "I don't know where the oil painting is."

Anthony smiled, "I've seen a lot of tough guys, you're neither the first nor the second.

I hope you leave a deep impression on me." Anthony waved his hand, saying to the Mexican agent, "Leave it to you."

George pleaded, "Please don't do this, I'm begging you.

I really don't know where the oil painting is."

Anthony said, "Do you think just saying you don't know will let you leave?"

"I'm telling the truth."

"Then who knows?"

George shook his head.

Luke also took a drag on his cigarette, "Stop wasting time, without some real action, this kid won't talk."

Seeing the Mexican agent push the cart over with a menacing look, George shouted, "no no no, I'm telling the truth, the painting has already been dealt with, it wasn't handled by me."

"Who handled it?"

"The Professor."

"Who is the Professor?"

"I don't know his real identity. He claims to be the Professor, and that's what we call him."

"How was the painting dealt with?"

"I don't know."

Luke said, "But as far as I know, you're the mastermind behind this oil painting robbery case."

"No, I'm just a nobody.

The Professor is the true mastermind behind the oil painting robbery case. He planned everything, and I just followed his orders."

"Where is the Professor?"

"I don't know."

"He's always the one contacting us; we can't find him."

"How much did you get after handling the painting?"

"The Professor didn't say, he just gave me 550,000 US Dollars directly."

"How much did the others get?"

"I don't know."

"Tell us everything you know about the Professor."

"Uh, he's very mysterious, a white man, with blonde hair, blue eyes, wears black-framed glasses, has a thick beard, medium build, and his right leg has some problem, he limps a bit when he walks."

"How did you meet the Professor?"

"He approached me, saying he had a job to introduce."

Anthony said, "And you believed him so easily?"

"The past two years have been really... difficult, lost my home, family, was living in a tent by the roadside, and I didn't even have money to buy beer.

The Professor suddenly found me, brought me food, and even treated me to drinks, so we started talking.