Don't call me evil god

Chapter 10 Who is Bahamut?

He finally gained Bahamut's trust, although he still didn't understand how he did it. But at this moment, Pete just wanted to leave the interrogation room as soon as possible and didn't want to have anything to do with any evil gods or black-robed men anymore.

The complicated arcane lock runes on the metal cuffs that bound Pete's hands gradually dissipated into the air. Pete, who had regained his freedom, hurriedly took the paper and pen and looked down at the contents on the paper.

"What does it say...?"

Pete remembered that when the two were talking back and forth, Bahamut kept writing on the paper, and there was indeed a lot of things written on it with golden paint, but the problem was that Pete found that he could not understand the language used by Bahamut.

This is not the common language of the continent of Plantis, nor is it the rune language that believers of the Goddess of Magic like to use to record magical knowledge, but a text format that Pete has never seen before.

Beautiful cursive characters connect letters to form different words. They have delicate outlines and smooth transitions. The lines are elegant and elastic, giving them a unique beauty.

"It's not important. It's just a simple record with your information on it. You need to sign and confirm it," Bahamut explained to Pete, "Although I personally believe that you have no connection with those cult lunatics, according to the regulations of the Green Harbor Police Department, if there is new progress in the relevant investigation in the next period of time, you may need to be summoned to ask some questions."

As if he was afraid that Pete might be worried, Bahamut added:
"Don't worry, you won't be treated as an accomplice. Others who survived like you will also have to sign the same documents. This is just a necessary procedure."

Pete was surprised and said subconsciously: "When did the Green Harbor Police Department become so dedicated and responsible? Aren't the police station full of pigs who won't move unless they are given money... Oh, no, sorry, sir, please pretend I didn't say anything, I'll sign it now!"

Pete only realized halfway through his speech that the attack range of his words was a bit too wide, and obviously included Bahamut.

Bahamut sneered and waved his hand: "It doesn't matter. I know what the Green Harbor Police Department is like. There's no need to worry about offending anyone."

Green Port is a place with a very developed economy due to its large-scale free trade and special status as a neutral port, but its public security management is indeed criticized.

From the courts to the police stations, the common feature of all walks of life is the prevalence of corruption, and the transaction of power and wealth is almost turning from an implicit rule to an explicit rule.

When faced with general incidents such as fights, neighborhood disputes, and searches for lost property, the grassroots police officers basically try to push the cases away or delay them as much as possible.

After all, most police officers even bought their positions with money. How can you expect them to do their jobs well if you don’t give them benefits first?
Of course, in a sense, this kind of public security management system where money is the only way to deal with things is also a unique feature of Greenport.

After all, the owner of this city, the hobgoblin tycoon Carron Lagan, is an out-and-out fanatical wealth collector. As long as the price is high enough, Carron may even dare to sell the rope to hang himself.

By the same token, if the money is enough, the police station can instantly turn into the most ferocious hyena, obeying the orders of the financiers and targeting any weak target they can bully.

In comparison, Pete felt that Bahamut was so dedicated that he didn't even seem like a member of the Green Harbor Police Department.

In Pete's impression, the police officers in Greenport had little patience. No matter what the case was, as long as he entered the interrogation room, they would definitely hint to him to pay money quickly. If the money was not enough, they would directly label him as a follower of the evil god and hang him to close the case. Only when he gave enough money would he have a chance to go through the normal questioning process.

He had been prepared to bleed heavily, but he didn't expect that Bahamut never mentioned asking for money from beginning to end. Moreover, his awe-inspiring temperament made Pete so nervous that he didn't dare to ask for bribery.

"Sir, are you really from the Green Harbor Police Department?" Pete couldn't help but ask curiously as he signed his name "Pete Chinal" in the common language. Pete noticed that the handwriting written with this pen was also golden, reflecting the light under the light of the oil lamp.

Bahamut did not answer Pete's question directly. When he saw Pete sign his name, he stood up, walked a few steps to the door, opened the door and shouted outside.

"It has been confirmed. He is innocent and does not know those cult lunatics. Come in and collect his tail and then he can leave."

As soon as he finished speaking, Pete saw a fat police officer wearing the largest Green Harbor Police Department uniform, weighing at least 200 pounds, rushing in through the door and giving Bahamut a rather unstandard salute:

"Yes! Sheriff Tren! Thank you for your hard work!"

The other party was obviously trying hard to appear agile and neat, but unfortunately his bloated body due to obvious lack of exercise made his movements seem loose.

"Yeah." Pete saw Bahamut nodded, walked around the fat policeman and left the room.

As soon as Bahamut left, the fat policeman relaxed immediately. His expression turned into a lazy one. He walked to the table listlessly and sat down. Without even looking at Pete, he grabbed the paper and pen that Pete had just signed and asked impatiently:
"Name?"

Pete was stunned. Didn't Bahamut already ask this question?
"Name! Hurry up, kid. Don't waste my time, okay? If the sheriff hadn't confirmed that you didn't know anything, huh, for a guy like you who doesn't know the current situation, I would say that nine out of ten times you are those crazy evil gods' lackeys. They should all be sent to the gallows. Then I can have peace and quiet."

Pete groaned, "Sir, but...didn't we record the relevant information when we asked the question before? Why do you want to ask it again?"

The fat police officer frowned, raised his hand and held up the paper to Pete, signaling: "Don't make up stories to fool me, there's nothing written on it! Hurry up and don't waste time. Tell me what I ask, or I'll put you in solitary confinement for a few days!"

Pete took a closer look:
The "record file" on which he had signed his name a few seconds ago was now blank!
Damn it!

"Wait, wait, sir! Really, I remember it very clearly. There were a lot of things written on it, and I even signed it! It can't be blank!" Pete said anxiously, "If you don't believe me, call the gentleman just now. He can prove it!"

The fat police officer sneered, "You can yell if you want to. But that's Chief Inspector Tren. He has so many things to do. How can he have the time to come back and give you proof?"

Pete was confused when he first heard this title, and couldn't help asking, "Sheriff Tren? But his name is Bahamut, right?"

Unexpectedly, the fat police officer looked even more confused than Pete: "What the hell?"

"Who is Bahamut?"

……

Cyber ​​is asking for a hole, putting a bowl here, asking for recommendation votes, monthly votes, thank you~
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(End of this chapter)