Routine Inspection at the Defense Zone Perimeter, the Liaison Office Chief's Play of Truth and Bluff

The Bloodfang Fleet's menacing dark red hulls drew a blinding trail in the deathly silence of space.

Without activating any response signals, they charged straight towards the invisible boundary of the T-03 Defense Zone like a group of sharks that had smelled blood.

The alarm escalated to the highest level without even a warning phase.

A dozen or so gray patrol ships belonging to the garrison forces of the defense zone roared out from their concealed berths behind the Starport and asteroid belt, like a swarm of disturbed bees, and precisely formed an interception array in front of the Bloodfang Fleet.

The blinding beam of searchlight was fixed on the flagship that Gwen Stacy was aboard.

A cold, emotionless male voice came through the Public Channel, carrying the metallic quality unique to high-powered amplification.

"Unidentified Fleet ahead, immediately halt, disable all weapon systems, and submit to inspection!"

"Repeat, stop the ship immediately!"

On the flagship's Bridge, Hark, the bandit leader who had been forcibly recruited, looked somewhat pale.

He looked at the well-trained warships of the Management Committee, arrayed in standard attack formations, on the screen, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

This is completely different from the way they usually bully merchant ships.

Gwen Stacy seemed oblivious to the rows of gun barrels outside the porthole that were already charging.

She remained seated calmly at the command post, her posture composed, not even the curve of her lips changing in the slightest.

"Connect to the other party's command channel."

Her voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable calmness.

"Yes, Director." The Xiao Li behind him responded, his fingers rapidly operating on the light screen.

Encrypted communication established.

A middle-aged man with a resolute face appeared on the screen, carrying the rank of Garrison Commander of the T-03 Defense Zone on his shoulder.

"I am Monk, the commander of the T-03 Defense Zone."

The other person's gaze was sharp as a knife, passing directly over Gwen Stacy and sweeping over the Bloodfang bandits behind her, whose expressions were tense and whose bandit-like demeanor had not yet faded.

"Your Fleet flies the flag of a registered Class A space pirate. Explain."

There were no greetings, no formalities; they got straight to the point.

Gwen Stacy gave a slight bow, a perfectly standard courtesy within the Management Committee.

"Commander Monk, this is Gwen Stacy Stacy from the Director's Office Direct Liaison Office."

She identified herself but did not mention the rank of "section chief," a subtle form of humility and a cautious reluctance to expose the internal organizational structure to external forces.

"By secret order from Director Hela Stability Maintenance Office, ' Bloodfang ' is being requisitioned as a temporary outsourced unit to carry out a Top Secret escort mission for high-risk assets."

She spoke slowly, and every word was crystal clear.

Monk's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Stability Maintenance Office.

Director Hela.

The combination of these two words inherently signifies trouble and unquestionable authority.

"Secret order?"

Monk's voice remained firm.

"Show official documents and authorization certificates."

"Certainly."

Gwen Stacy gestured to the clerk, Xiao Zhang, to send over a pre-prepared electronic document.

The document's heading bore the chilling black giant sword emblem of the Stability Maintenance Office, while below it was a Scarlet, high-authority departmental seal.

Everything seemed flawless.

Monk carefully reviewed the document on his terminal. The Bridge was silent except for the faint hum of the instruments.

Gwen Stacy could sense that the other person's gaze lingered repeatedly on every word and punctuation mark of the document.

She's gambling.

I'm betting that this half-true, half-false official document, with the infamous reputation of the Stability Maintenance Office and its outrageously complicated Confidentiality Regulations, can fool this seemingly meticulous district commander.

After a long pause, Monk raised his head.

The document format is correct.

Hark and the others secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

"However," Monk changed the subject, "According to Article 112 of the Management Committee Border Defense Regulations, all outsourced units entering the Class A defense zone, regardless of the mission's classification, must undergo physical boarding and verification to eliminate the risk of infiltration."

He stared at Gwen Stacy.

"Your document does not contain any special annotation exempting this clause."

They've arrived.

Gwen Stacy remained calm and composed.

"Because the assets being transported this time fall under the category of 'top-secret sources of psychological pollution' as defined in the ' Wartime Special Assets Management Act '."

She calmly delivered the prepared statement.

"According to Article 3 of the Annex to the Act, any unauthorized physical contact could trigger a catastrophic leak. Therefore, Director Hela specifically instructed that no form of opening of hatches or boarding be permitted before reaching the destination."

She looked up and stared directly into Monk's eyes.

"If you insist on conducting the physical inspection, according to the regulations, you will need to sign a 'High-Risk Informed and Liability Waiver Form' and bear all the consequences that may arise from this opening of the hatch in your personal capacity, including but not limited to the risk of irreversible mental pollution to all personnel in the T-03 Defense Zone."

These words, while seemingly gentle, were actually quite firm, effectively shifting a huge burden of responsibility directly onto Monk's shoulders.

Within the bureaucratic system, no one is unafraid to take responsibility.

Especially this kind of scapegoat that could ruin an entire political career.

Monk's face indeed darkened.

He remained silent for a long time, seemingly weighing the pros and cons.

Hark, standing behind Gwen Stacy, didn't dare to breathe. For the first time, he realized that language could be more lethal than a laser cannon.

Just when everyone thought Monk was about to compromise.

He suddenly smiled.

That smile was cold.

"Well said, Director Gwen Stacy."

For the first time, he addressed Gwen Stacy by her rank, and it was impossible to tell whether the address was respectful or sarcastic.

"I am very impressed by your familiarity with the regulations."

"However, you seem to have overlooked the most inconspicuous clause in the appendix to official documents."

Monk extended his finger and gently tapped his own light screen.

"Article 9 of the Supplementary Provisions: To ensure the absolute stability of the 'Top Secret Source of Mental Pollution' during transport, the transport unit must keep the ' S-rank Energy Suppression Force Field ' activated throughout the entire journey and synchronize its fluctuation frequency in real time to the central control system of all defense zones along the route for monitoring."

His gaze suddenly turned sharp.

"My central control system shows that your flagship is currently only using civilian-grade energy shields."

"Tell me, Director Gwen Stacy, why is this?"

The air on the Bridge seemed to freeze instantly.

Gwen Stacy's heart sank.

She had calculated everything, except for this one detail that required technical cooperation. Forging official documents is easy, but forging a non-existent S-rank Force Field fluctuation is absolutely impossible.

Seeing Gwen Stacy silent, Monk's smile deepened.

He gave Gwen Stacy no further chance to speak.

"Attention all units in T-03 Defense Zone!"

His voice, broadcast through Public Channel, reached every corner of the airspace.

"Activate the ' Sky Dome ' air defense matrix, energy level: 100%."

"Target: Bloodfang flagship."

"I suspect that unidentified forces have forged official documents in an attempt to infiltrate the defense zone. I now order you to immediately lay down your weapons, open the hatches, and submit to a mandatory inspection!"

Otherwise, you'll bear the consequences!

The moment the words fell, dozens of massive launch platforms on the distant defense zone Starport slowly activated, and giant cannons, gleaming with a ghostly blue light, rose from the darkness, aiming directly at Gwen Stacy's flagship.

A murderous intent surged forth like a tidal wave. Inside the flagship's Bridge, a deathly silence reigned.

Hark and his band of bandits were ashen-faced and their legs were shaking.

They are outlaws, not lunatics.

Faced with a space-based artillery array that comprised an entire defense zone of the Management Committee, any resistance would seem like a joke.

"Damn it, that woman screwed me over..." Hark wailed inwardly.

Clerks Xiao Zhang and Xiao Li also instinctively gripped their sidearms, their palms sweating profusely.

Only Gwen Stacy remained seated at the command post, her posture upright and unwavering.

Her gaze pierced through the porthole, swept over the cannons exuding an aura of destruction, and finally settled on Monk's cold face on the light screen.

"Commander Monk."

Her voice broke the frozen air, calm to the point of being cold.

"This is my last reminder: this is a Top Secret escort mission directly authorized by the Stability Maintenance Office. Are you sure you want to force the hatch open just because of a procedural oversight?"

Monk gave a cold laugh.

"Don't try to intimidate me with the Stability Maintenance Office. In the T- T-03 Defense Zone, I only recognize the regulations of the Management Committee. Now, execute the order immediately!"

"Very good."

Gwen Stacy nodded, her face showing not fear, but rather a hint of... appreciation?

"Since the commander insists on his principles, I have no choice but to activate the emergency Contingency Plan."

She didn't look at Monk again, but turned to the clerk, Xiao Li, beside her.

"Implement the 7B Amendment to the Wartime Prevention Act, the 'Early Warning Procedure for Uncontrolled Out-of-Control of Extremely Secret Pollution Sources'."

Xiao Li was stunned for a moment, but immediately started operating on his terminal.

The next second, a sharp, piercing alarm sounded directly into Monk's ears through the encrypted channel.

At the same time, a Scarlet, flashing warning window forcibly popped up on the command screen in front of Monk.

[WARNING: Unstable fluctuations detected in the seal of the top-secret psychotic contamination source "XG-07," the risk of leakage has been raised to the highest level, "Extinction!"]

[According to Amendment 7B to the Wartime Prevention Act, the responsibility for any leaks caused by forcibly opening the hatch will fall entirely on the supreme commander of the defense zone— Commander Monk.]

[The scope of liability determination includes, but is not limited to: the mental Oblivion of all personnel in the defense zone, the contamination of the Timeline in adjacent star systems, and all catastrophic consequences arising therefrom.]

[Countdown begins: If the forced opening command is not lifted in 60 seconds, the system will automatically send a full responsibility assessment report for this incident to the Management Committee's Supreme Inspection Committee, the Internal Affairs Inspection Office, and the Director's Office simultaneously.]

The Scarlet countdown began to relentlessly tick on the light screen.

59...58...57...

Monk's pupils suddenly contracted.

He stared intently at the lines of shocking text displayed on the screen.

Wartime Prevention Act!

This is no ordinary border regulation; it is the highest-level law of the Management Committee, possessing absolute power that overrides all departmental rules and regulations.

What's worse, this warning was sent using a push notification from the Management Committee's central server that he couldn't possibly turn off, a push Highest Access Privileges.

This means that everything Gwen Stacy just did was not a bluff.

She actually initiated an official procedure that he had never heard of before, yet which truly existed and was enough to ruin his reputation.

He may not trust Gwen Stacy, but he cannot distrust the Management Committee's central server.

He may not be afraid of Hela, but he cannot be afraid of that report, once sent out, which can never be withdrawn and reaches the ears of the heavens.

His political life terrified him more than his physical life.

"Commander?" the adjutant beside him asked in a dry voice.

The countdown has reached "30".

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Monk's forehead.

He slammed his hand on the table.

"Release the ' Sky Dome ' matrix lock!"

"All patrol vessels, withdraw to a safe distance!"

"Let them through!"

The three orders were practically squeezed out through gritted teeth.

On the distant Starport, those giant cannons that had been slowly raised were reluctantly lowered again.

The patrol ships surrounding the area also shut down their weapon systems and moved aside to make way for a passage.

A cheer erupted from the Bridge of the Bloodfang flagship, a testament to the relief of survivors.

Hark nearly collapsed to the ground.

Gwen Stacy's face remained calm.

She nodded slightly at the light screen that had restored normal communication.

"Thank you for Commander Monk's understanding and cooperation."

After saying that, she unilaterally cut off the communication.

The flagship's engines restarted, and under the watchful eyes of more than a dozen Management Committee warships, it slowly sailed into the heart of the T-03 Defense Zone.

Only after the flagship's shadow had completely disappeared behind the Starport did Monk lean back in his chair, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Commander, we..." the adjutant hesitated, unable to finish his sentence.

"We almost became someone else's pawns." Monk's voice carried a hint of lingering fear.

He stared at the remaining warning records on the screen, muttering to himself.

"That woman, she wasn't transporting any pollution source at all."

"She herself is the source of the pollution."

On the other side, at the edge of the XN-734 Ruins, far from the Core Zone of Management Committee.

Lynn's Stealth Insertion Ship hovered in front of a massive, invisible energy fault.

This fault line, like an invisible wall, isolates everything inside and outside.

Any conventional detection method will completely fail here, and the returned data will be blank.

Forcing a breakthrough will only be like a moth flying into an impenetrable wall, instantly turning into dust.

Lynn did not attempt any violent means.

He sat in the driver's seat and pulled up the tattered data from the Forty-Second Execution.

A vast amount of chaotic and contradictory fragments of memory flashed rapidly before his eyes.

He wasn't looking for clues; he was looking for a "feeling."

A unique energy fluctuation frequency of a TVA inspector as they traverse different Timeline.

It's something like an "identity code" that's embedded in the core of all TVA equipment.

Finally, in a lengthy report on "pruning the Timeline the extinction of dinosaurs on Earth 27", he caught a very faint, almost negligible background ripple.

This is it.

Lynn closed his eyes, focused his Psychic Power, and began to simulate that unique frequency band using the signal generator of his spaceship.

This is an extremely delicate operation, like finding the one and only correct string among billions of musical instruments and plucking it at the exact same frequency.

once.

twice.

After an unknown amount of time, Lynn's forehead was covered in sweat.

The spaceship's signal generator finally emitted a soft "hum".

A band that was exactly the same as the one in the shrapnel data was successfully copied.

Lynn opened his eyes and slowly pushed the disguised signal toward the dead-sounding energy fault line.

There was no violent collision, no energy clash.

That camouflaged signal, like a drop of water merging into the ocean, silently pierced through the fault line.

Immediately afterwards, the seemingly indestructible energy wall, as if recognizing "one of its own," proactively opened a narrow rift just wide enough for Lynn's spaceship to pass through from within.

Without the slightest hesitation, Lynn piloted the spaceship, smoothly and silently gliding into the depths of this forgotten ruin.

The crack behind him slowly closed, leaving no trace.

Inside the ruins, all was deathly silent.

Everywhere are the ruins of TVA-style buildings and fragments of space torn apart by the storm of time.

Lynn carefully made her way through the area, following the coordinates left on the note.

Finally, in the center of the ruins, he found the only building that was still relatively intact.

It was a standard TVA interrogation room.

But when Lynn pushed open the door, he found it empty.

In the very center of the room stood only a solitary interrogation table.

The metal surface of the interrogation table was mottled and eroded by the power of time, but the table itself was shrouded in a faint glow, in a strange state of time stillness.

There was only one thing on the stage.

A printed official document.

Lynn stepped forward, his gaze falling on the title of the official document, his pupils contracting slightly.

[Time Variant type L-N89, confession and surrender]

He picked up the confession.

The contents detailed how he abused his position to steal core TVA secrets and colluded with multiple High-Risk Variant in an attempt to overturn the Sacred Timeline.

The writing style is skillful, the evidence is "conclusive," and the logical chain is so complete it's outrageous.

What sent chills down Lynn's spine even further was that the writing style, word choice, and even some of the abbreviations that only he knew about were all imitated so perfectly.

If this document were to leak out, he wouldn't need any trial; the watchful eyes within the Management Committee alone would be enough to tear him apart.

This was a silent, yet powerful, political maneuver that could ruin his reputation.

Lynn stared at the confession, his eyes quickly scanning each word, trying to find a flaw in it.

Just then, the interrogation room door behind him slammed shut automatically.

The surrounding Spatial Rift began to fluctuate and collapse violently.

The operation is complete.

Lynn, however, seemed oblivious to the approaching danger.

His gaze was fixed on the last page of the confession, on the forged signature.

That signature imitated his handwriting.

But in the very last stroke of the signature, at that tiny, upward-to-right turn, he saw a flaw.

He only revealed this turning point to one person, without reservation.

A core internal member deeply influenced by the Management Committee's document system, yet by no means a senior executive of TVA.

A name instantly popped into his mind.

Before he could think it through, the walls of the interrogation room suddenly became transparent.

Hundreds of golden portals suddenly lit up around the wasteland.

Fully armed TVA cleanup forces surged out like a tide, completely surrounding the small area.

A net, both heaven and earth, has been cast.