Roman Torchwick stands in the dimly lit room, the shadows flickering ominously around him. The air is thick with tension as he paces slowly, a predatory gleam in his eye. He pauses at the center of the space, his cane tapping rhythmically against the concrete floor. “You know,” he begins, his voice smooth and melodic, “I’ve always found that the most persuasive method of inquiry is the most… personal.”

With a flourish, he opens a crate nearby, revealing several serpents coiled within. Their scales glisten in the low light, and their eyes shimmer with a cold intelligence. Roman gently lifts one, letting it slither through his fingers as he approaches a darkened corner. “You see, these little beauties have quite the appetite for secrets.”

He turns his gaze toward the trembling figure bound to the chair, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “I suggest you cooperate. It would be a shame for us to have to get creative. The last one didn’t make it out in one piece.” Roman leans in closer, allowing the serpent to flick its tongue near the captive’s face. “Let’s begin, shall we?”