The doctor's discovery

D.O.D.C. headquarters, technical research team.

This was the brain of the entire agency, utterly unlike the dusty ruins outside; elitism permeated the place, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee and creating an involuntary sense of urgency. Beyond the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows lay New York's skyline, still under reconstruction. Countless tower cranes blinked red warning lights in the night, like a forest of steel.

Dr. Evelyn Reed sat behind her broad white desk, tapping her fingers lightly against its surface.

Several holographic screens hovered before her, densely packed with D.O.D.C.'s operational reports, energy monitoring data, and personnel schedules from the past week.

A specially invited expert in the technical research department, she was the technical director appointed directly by Stark Industries. Throughout Damage Control, apart from a few old hardliners sent from Washington, no one dared look her in the eye.

"Something's wrong," Evelyn murmured to herself, her slender fingers tapping rhythmically on the virtual keyboard.

Her gaze focused on one screen displaying a comparison of residual energy in Queens' Zone A-6 and Zone C-4.

She adjusted the blue-light-blocking glasses on her nose, her sharp gray-blue eyes narrowing behind the lenses.

According to the raw data transmitted by automated monitoring drones, a very brief Class B energy fluctuation had occurred in the underground vault in Zone C-4 at around 12:15 p.m. three days earlier. Its waveform characteristics closely resembled the early signs of instability in a Chitauri energy core.

Yet just a few seconds later, the fluctuation had vanished into thin air.

The subsequent cleanup report showed that only ordinary construction debris and a small amount of Class D residual radiation had been found in that area.

Equipment failure? A false sensor reading?

That explanation might have satisfied an ordinary clerk, but to Evelyn, it was practically the equivalent of writing "something is wrong here" across the report.

Energy did not simply vanish unless it had been taken away or shielded.

Her slender fingers flew across the virtual keyboard, pulling up the list of personnel responsible for cleaning that area that day.

A team composed of temporary workers.

The list was long, and most of the profile photos showed typical bottom-rung blue-collar workers: dull eyes and weathered faces. Evelyn's gaze swept over the names: Rick, Johnson, Jose...

Finally, her gaze settled on the ID photo of a young Asian man.

His face was somewhat gaunt, with heavy dark circles beneath his eyes and the weariness and bewilderment peculiar to someone new to the job. He looked no different from the people around him who had been crushed by life.

Name: Zhao Fan.

Employee number: 9763.

Length of employment: 3 months.

Position: Contract cleanup worker (temporary).

He seemed unremarkable.

But Evelyn pulled up another set of data-the malfunction report from the Zone A-6 security checkpoint.

"A heavy-duty industrial vacuum overheated, causing a surge of dust that disabled the entire security lane for ten minutes." As Evelyn read the incident description, the corners of her mouth curved into a cold smile.

The time matched. The location matched.

And if she overlaid all the areas where "data anomalies" had appeared over the past few days but ultimately yielded "no substantiating evidence," then superimposed Zhao Fan's movements...

The overlap reached 85 percent.

Evelyn drew a red electronic pen from its holder and slowly, heavily traced a circle around the young man's name on the holographic screen.

"Zhao Fan, employee number 9763."

She read the name softly, her voice betraying neither pleasure nor anger, yet carrying the concentration of a hunter discovering traces of prey.

"Are you just a lucky rat that stumbled into this, or a... wolf in sheep's clothing?"

She closed the screens, and the office sank into darkness again, leaving only the afterimage of that red circle on her retinas.

She was in no hurry to arrest anyone.

In a place like D.O.D.C., arresting a low-level temporary worker without conclusive evidence of stolen goods would, at most, result in his dismissal. That would let him off far too easily, and it would not recover the samples that might already have been lost.

She intended to cast a long line to catch a big fish.

"It looks like I'll have to pay that filthy Queens a visit myself."

Evelyn stood, took off her lab coat, and picked up the trench coat hanging on the coat rack.

Outside the window, the night lay deep, shrouding the city like an enormous net.

Queens, temporary cleanup camp.

The morning air was still utterly foul, like a piece of moldy bread lodged in the throat.

Zhao Fan stood in the assembly square, holding a warm cup of cheap coffee and feeling its warmth slide down his esophagus into his stomach. Last night's feast seemed like a dream. After waking, he was still employee number 9763, still forced to deal with lethal garbage for his daily pay.

But things were not entirely the same.

His hand was tucked into his pocket, his fingertips lightly brushing the few sharpened pieces of metal inside. Deep down, he had gained something called confidence.

"Hey, Zhao."

A round figure sidled up to him. It was Benjamin.

The fat man looked well today, his glasses polished to a shine. Although his work clothes were still stretched tight, much of his timid, submissive air had faded. Since forming an alliance with Zhao Fan and playing a crucial role in the "security checkpoint incident," he had found his place in their little team.

"Morning, Ben," Zhao Fan replied quietly, his eyes scanning their surroundings warily.

Admiration showed in Ben's eyes. Although he did not know exactly how much Zhao Fan had sold the goods for, he knew that anyone who could smuggle out contraband of that caliber and successfully fence it was an absolute rarity in this camp.

"Don't celebrate too soon." Zhao Fan took a sip of coffee, his gaze calm. "Any movement from Rick?"

At the mention of Rattlesnake Rick, Ben's expression darkened. "That bastard's been in a foul mood these past few days. Ever since he got drenched in paint, he's been looking for a chance to get revenge. Security's been tightened lately, though, so he hasn't dared go too far. But I checked the intranet..."

Ben glanced around, leaned close to Zhao Fan's ear, and lowered his voice to a near whisper. "The technical team seems to be paying closer attention to several of the areas we're responsible for. That Dr. Evelyn pulled up every mission log from the past week."

Zhao Fan's fingers abruptly tightened around his coffee cup.

"What did she find?"

"I don't know yet." Ben shook his head. "But the system shows that your file has been 'specially flagged.' It's only a yellow, low-level alert, but that's definitely not a good sign."

Zhao Fan's heart sank. He knew that female doctor would be difficult to deal with. During their encounter in the vault ruins, those eyes of hers, which seemed able to see through everything, had left a deep impression on him.

"Got it." Zhao Fan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "We'll need to keep a lower profile at work for now. Don't touch anything conspicuous."

"But..." Ben hesitated. "I found a new lead."

"Hmm?"

"Just last night, my crawler picked up a set of anomalous signals in D.O.D.C.'s abandoned facilities database." Ben pulled the battered tablet from inside his clothes and, shielding it with his body, showed Zhao Fan a blurry map.

"Is this... a subway station?" Zhao Fan recognized the layout.

"Yes, an abandoned subway maintenance station near Seventh Avenue in Queens." Ben swiped his finger across the screen. "There was a cave-in there during the Battle of New York, and it's been sealed off ever since. The official cleanup isn't scheduled until next month. But the monitoring data shows a continuous, faint energy source down there."

As Zhao Fan looked at the blinking red dot on the map, his heart involuntarily began to race.

"Energy class?"

"Estimated at Class C or above, possibly even Class B." Ben adjusted his glasses. "And judging by the waveform analysis, it doesn't look like ordinary wreckage. It's more like a... mechanical component that's still operating."

A mechanical component that's still operating.

Several models from the system's [Relic Compendium] flashed through Zhao Fan's mind: a Chitauri energy rifle, the remains of a Chitauri guard, even... some kind of more advanced personal combat equipment.

If he could get his hands on it, not only could he exchange it for another enormous sum of money, but more importantly, he might be able to analyze it to obtain a new ability.

As he was now, he was far too weak.

Although he had [Basic Precision Throwing] and [Weak Energy Perception], he still had no way to protect himself against official power like that represented by Dr. Evelyn, or black-market big shots like Shadow. He needed power, desperately.

"Is the location well hidden?" Zhao Fan asked.

"Very. The entrance is behind a collapsed ventilation shaft, and the surveillance cameras broke down ages ago," Ben said confidently. "Besides, it's a genuinely deserted area. Even scavengers rarely go there."

Zhao Fan fell silent for a moment, his gaze passing through the noisy crowd toward the gray sky in the distance.

"Tonight," he said quietly.

"What?" Ben froze for a moment.

"We move tonight." Zhao Fan's gaze grew resolute. "Since the authorities haven't acted yet, we'll get there first."

This was not just about money. It was also about giving himself even the slightest bit of extra leverage before the storm arrived.

Not far away, the foreman Mike's whistle sounded.

"Time to work! You lazy bastards! Get moving!"

Zhao Fan tipped his head back and drained the last of his coffee, crushed the paper cup, and tossed it accurately into a trash can more than ten meters away.

"Come on. Let's get to work."