Malcolm’s face lit up with delight at the arrival of his awaited companions. He then glared maliciously at Yvette, his head raised. "Miss," he hissed, "I hope you can maintain that confidence a little longer."

Robin, emboldened by Malcolm's presence, feigned fierceness. "Just wait," he declared. "Interpol won't let you get away with this. You're finished."

Yvette, calmly twirling the gun in her hand, pointed it directly at them. Their faces paled; the small silver weapon was their worst nightmare. They fell silent, fearing another shot.

Darnell received urgent instructions: delay Yvette's apprehension until Jeremiah arrived; Interpol could not take her. He felt overwhelmed; it had been years since he faced such a challenge. He would need to make a comeback today.

Approaching Yvette, he said solemnly, "Ms. Zeller, Interpol will undoubtedly try to take you. They're forceful; please stay safe if any conflict arises."

Yvette's dark eyes, narrowed slightly, held a calm yet deep intensity, a hint of a smile playing on her beautiful face. "Don't worry," she replied flatly. "I'm tougher than they are."

Darnell chuckled awkwardly. How could she joke now? Interpol agents… tougher than them? Just how tough? he wondered. Later, he discovered Yvette hadn't been exaggerating.

Jack White, Interpol's leader from Mysonna headquarters, a man in his early thirties with striking features, barged in with over a dozen agents, confronting the two opposing groups. His expression was grim, yet tinged with intrigue. He strutted between them, arrogantly demanding, "Who called the police?"

Malcolm, his earlier boldness vanished, nodded subserviently. "Mr. White, I'm Malcolm Hart, secretary to the Ybaulla Prime Minister. I reported the incident. A Clusian woman fired at Mr. Jenkins and me. You can see our injuries. This is a serious international crime; Clusia is clearly biased. We hope Interpol ensures a fair judgment."

Jack laughed scornfully, glancing at Malcolm's wound and Robin's pale face. Two grown men injured by a woman with a gun? How incompetent, he thought.

Darnell stepped forward. "Mr. Hart omitted details," he said in a deep voice. "Robin's insulting remarks provoked the incident. Ms. Zeller intervened. Mr. White, we'll handle this internally; there's no need for Interpol's involvement."

Darnell knew Jack's temper. Jack, however, immediately adopted a professional demeanor. Speaking fluent Clusian, he stated, "Since the Ybaulla authorities called, we must arrest the woman who injured others. Where is she? Clusian police should hand her over; Interpol will ensure a fair trial."

Darnell's expression soured. Interpol was determined to intervene. Yvette, surrounded by Clusian police, was initially unnoticed by Jack. Robin, however, immediately pointed her out. "Mr. White, it's her! Yvette! She attacked us!"

Jack glanced in the indicated direction, then froze, utterly stunned. His jaw dropped; he stepped back, rubbed his eyes, and looked completely incredulous. Whoa… this legendary figure? Impossible. She's always in Mysonna; even the chairman needs an appointment. And now she's here? Am I dreaming?

After confirming his identification, Jack confidently approached Yvette, holstered his weapon, saluted, and stood at attention – the motion smooth and fluid. His face was alight with excitement; his voice trembled slightly. "Officer, reporting in. Jack White, badge 0036, chief inspector, Betrico Interpol division. Unexpected to see you here. Assignment? Do you need my help?"

A shocked silence fell over the scene. Malcolm was incredulous. What's happening? 'Officer'? The chief inspector called her 'Officer'? No way!

He was in shock, trembling, his face as pale as a sheet. He had mistaken her for an ordinary Clusian woman. Even Jack treated her with such respect. Now he understood her actions.

Robin was equally dumbfounded, never having witnessed such a scene. Even a fool would realize he'd severely underestimated Yvette.

Darnell was speechless. Jeremiah Chavez's girlfriend… an Interpol officer? A rank that makes even Jack so deferential? No wonder she was confident. Interpol? Who would believe this without seeing it? A girl in her twenties...

Yvette looked at the saluting man, not recognizing him. Jack, realizing Yvette's puzzled expression, thought, How did I forget? She was surrounded by presidents and ministers. How could she remember me?

He quickly added, "Ms. Zeller, I've seen you, but you haven't seen me. The minister was with you; I only glimpsed you from afar, my rank insufficient to attend your lectures."

Disbelief swept through the room again. Even Jack wasn't qualified to speak with her? And those lectures?

Malcolm, glancing cautiously at Yvette, asked Jack, "Mr. White, are you mistaken? She has a gun; she shot…"

Jack ruthlessly interrupted. "Sir, what are you saying? Ms. Zeller is a top-level international police officer, under our protection. It's perfectly legal for her to have a gun."