Chapter 8

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In the loft

"What do you mean he's gone?!" Izuru yelled at his subordinates as he plopped on the sofa. "After you and (Your name) left we entered the restaurant and searched every nook and cranny. Nagito is nowhere to be found." Celeste reported. "My my! I was out for a day and you already lost someone." Kokichi entered the living room while having a shit-eating grin on his face. "Not funny, Oma. Nagito was a very valuable member of our team." Kamakura sighed. "H-he would n-never betray us, r-right?" Toko mused. "Then who could've kidnapped him?" Kokichi sat near the boss. "The imitation murderer perhaps, Komaeda saw how she escaped the crime scene so he might be a vital witness." Ludenburg thought out loud.
"We must find him as fast as possible, who knows what she might do to him." Harukawa said. "Would you look at this! Cold-blooded Maki roll cares about our little silly shave foam!" Kokichi giggled.

"Maki, get me the files I asked for earlier and all the recent cases that might be of imitation murderer. Celeste, inform Kuzuryu about Nagito, ask his men to look for him after that you're free for the night. Toko, Kokichi, look after (Your name). I don't want her to get hurt." Boss gave out the orders. "I've already kept the file on your desk, I'll get others within one hour." Maki walked away. "I'll go call Fuyuhiko." Celestia took out her phone. "I'll c-call (Your name) tomorrow m-morning." Fukawa walked into her room. "I'll go get some sleep." Oma yawned and walked away.
"Not so fast, where were you?" Kokichi stopped in his tracks. "With my Shumai of course! Haven't I told you?" Oma winked. "What did you found out?" "Nothing, really." Oma lied. "If you have something to tell then spit it out." Izuru said grimly. "Hmm. . . Nope! I've got nothing to say. Yet. . ." With that Kokichi walked away into his room.

Somewhere in the dark cold basement

"Ugh. . ." Nagito groaned as he looked around to see nothing but darkness. He felt as he was pressed against some cold, damp surface. His wrists and ankles felt weak and swollen as if they were tied with chains. He tried to say something but let out a small hum. Komaeda's mouth was shut with a piece of duct tape. He mentally chuckled at his unluck, he wanted to see his boss and (Your name) kiss, but alas it didn't mean to happen. He heard a quiet dialogue coming from somewhere above.
"What shall we do with that degenerate?" A female voice asked. "Keep him locked up until he wakes up. How long will anesthesia work?" Another voice spoke up, it sounded somewhat robotic. "He should wake up any minute now." A familiar male voice said.
"Hey! You awake?!" Female yelled as she harshly ripped the duct tape from his mouth earning a loud yelp from Nagito. "Looks like he's up already." A male voice said. "Leave me and him alone." A strict robotic voice said. "A-are you s-sure?!" Nagito knew this voice too well. "T-toko. . ?" Komaeda spoke up. "Huh? So you know her." The robotic voice chuckled. "Then he might be very very useful. Leave, I'll have a chat with him." The captured heard footsteps that grew silent with every second.

"Nagito. . . Hm. I knew you were something more than a passer-by who almost ruined all my plans." Robotic voice cooed mockingly. "Who are you?" "If I wanted you to know, why would I bother to blindfold you?" They chuckled. "You're the imitation murderer." Komaeda stated. "What mistake have I done I wonder? Everything was so well planned, my people imitated every little detail and we're still caught." Voice huffed. "That's annoying." They sighed.
"I'll spare your life if you spit out all you know." They untied his ankles as he sat up. "What do you want to know?" Nagito asked grimly. "Who do you work with? How did you figure me out? And most importantly, who do you work for?" They asked. "Hehehe, why should I tell you that?" Komaeda chuckled. "Your choice." Komaeda felt as metal shackles returned onto his ankles.
"Get the information from him, even if it means to split his skull open." A robotic voice ordered. "With pleasure!" Female chuckled as she began rummaging somewhere.

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