Leveraging force at the margins, obtaining the special inspection schedule

That invisible scanning wave, like a needle, gently pricked me, then vanished without a trace.

Gwen Stacy Stacy's body didn't move; not even her eyelashes trembled.

But her entire center of gravity seemed to subtly shift in that instant. Her previously outward and imposing posture quietly receded inward.

Across from him, the professional smile on Roxxon Energy's security supervisor's face held a subtle hint of genuine emotion. He had just confirmed through his headset that a support request from a certain department had been rejected.

In his view, this "Liaison Office" of unknown origin was nothing more than a paper tiger that was all bark and no bite.

"Madam, if you'd like to inspect the office area, we can begin." He gestured again, still polite, but his confidence was completely different.

Gwen Stacy didn't look at him.

Her gaze passed over the security supervisor's shoulder and landed on the bustling street outside the building.

Hela's refusal was expected.

It's nothing short of wishful thinking for a newly appointed leader and a newly established department to attempt to mobilize the armed forces of a powerful unit like the Stability Maintenance Office before demonstrating any outstanding achievements.

She understands the rules of this system.

But that scanning wave just now completely changed the nature of this matter.

The other party is looking for Lynn.

Moreover, it used a method she had never heard of before, one that was almost a comparison of "existence" at its very source.

This indicates that not only are TVA agents hiding deep within the Roxxon Building, but their technical level far surpasses that of the two Time Guards captured earlier.

A direct assault was never the best option from the start. Now, it's become the worst possible strategy.

She needs time.

We also need a new set of bargaining chips that can be put on the table.

Gwen Stacy withdrew her gaze and finally looked at the security supervisor. She did not respond to the supervisor's suggestion to "inspect the office area," but instead turned around and whispered instructions to an agent behind her.

"Activate Plan C."

"Yes."

The operative nodded, without taking out any communication equipment, and simply turned around and walked towards the building entrance, like an ordinary clerk being sent by his superior to retrieve something from a car.

The security supervisor frowned slightly as he watched this, but did not stop it.

He didn't know what Plan C was, but he was confident that the other side wouldn't be able to cause any trouble in this building.

Gwen Stacy turned around to face him again, her face expressionless.

"I'm waiting for my colleague to pick up a supplementary document," she said.

The security supervisor nodded without speaking. A subtle stalemate fell over the lobby.

Time passed second by second.

About five minutes later, outside the building, the sound of police sirens, growing louder as they approached, broke the afternoon hustle and bustle of Manhattan.

The sound grew louder and louder, becoming increasingly piercing.

For the first time, the security supervisor's expression changed noticeably. He turned his head sharply and looked out through the huge glass curtain wall.

Three blue and white NYPD police cars, with flashing red and blue lights, stopped directly in front of the Roxxon Building, blocking the main road for vehicles to enter and exit.

The car door opened, and several uniformed New York police officers got out and began to set up a cordon.

Pedestrians on the street stopped and looked over curiously.

In the lobby, even the Wall Street elites who were rushing around stopped in their tracks, whispering and discussing amongst themselves.

"What's going on?" The security supervisor's tone carried a questioning tone for the first time.

"A fire drill," Gwen Stacy replied succinctly.

We have not received any notification regarding the exercise!

"Because this isn't your drill." Gwen Stacy looked at him calmly. "Our Liaison Office received an anonymous tip alleging significant fire safety hazards in your company's underground facilities, potentially involving the illegal storage of highly flammable materials. In accordance with New York City Public Safety Code, we, in conjunction with the New York City Fire Department and Police Department, have temporarily placed the surrounding area under control to investigate potential public safety risks."

The security chief's pupils suddenly contracted.

He stared intently at Gwen Stacy.

Throughout the entire ordeal, the other party never mentioned forcibly entering the building, but instead used the pretext of "checking for public safety risks" to block the police at his doorstep.

This is an open strategy.

He could refuse Gwen Stacy, he could leave this so-called "liaison office" hanging here.

But he couldn't refuse the NYPD.

They could not tolerate their company being treated as a potential terrorist target and shut down by the police in full view of everyone.

If the matter escalates and makes the front page of tomorrow's the New York Times, regardless of the final outcome, Roxxon Group's stock price will plummet. This kind of impact creates an unpredictable "fluctuation."

Their duty is to eliminate all "fluctuations".

A fine bead of sweat appeared on the security supervisor's forehead.

He finally realized that he had underestimated this woman from the very beginning. She hadn't been relying on the support of that so-called "Stability Maintenance Office" at all; she was borrowing the "power" of this Mortal World.

"Madam, I think there must be some misunderstanding." The security chief's voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Whether there's a misunderstanding or not, we'll know after the inspection," Gwen Stacy said. "I don't want to make a big deal out of it. Right now, I need to review your company's fire safety records for the past three years, as well as the structural drawings of your underground facilities. This is a compliant and legal procedure."

She kicked the ball back.

The security supervisor's chest heaved violently. He glanced again at the growing crowd and flashing police lights outside the window, and clenched his fists tightly.

"... Please follow me." He forced out these words through gritted teeth.

He compromised.

In a small conference room.

The security supervisor had someone bring over a thick stack of paper documents.

"These are the security records for the past three years." His face was grim.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Gwen Stacy nodded and sat down with her two agents, beginning to turn the pages one by one.

They looked very slowly and carefully, as if they were really checking the maintenance records of each fire hydrant.

The security supervisor and his two bodyguards stood at the conference room door, staring intently at them.

Time passed in silence.

Gwen Stacy's fingertips traced lines of text, seemingly casually.

An agent standing next to her wore ordinary black-rimmed glasses. On the temple of the glasses, a scanning probe smaller than the tip of a pin was silently capturing all the electromagnetic signals in the conference room at a frequency of hundreds of millions of times per second.

To maintain secrecy, members of TVA avoid using conventional networks as much as possible. However, their Internal Communications cannot rely entirely on shouting.

There must be some form of encrypted information exchange.

Just as Gwen Stacy flipped to a ledger from last year, the agent's body stiffened almost imperceptibly for a fraction of a second.

A waterfall of Data Stream flashed across the lens of his glasses.

He caught it.

Beneath the encryption layer of the Internal Communications channel just used by the security supervisor, a newly issued schedule instruction marked as "highest priority" was intercepted.

The instructions were translated into a single line of text and projected onto the inside of Gwen Stacy's contact lenses.

The timetable for the arrival of the "Adjudicators" Special Inspection Team has been confirmed.

[Final calibration coordinates: Abandoned Subway Station 14-B Queens New York.]

[Countdown to Operation Launch--]

Gwen Stacy's gaze fell on the last bright red number.

`[48:00:00]`