>Go find a bot, and try to create circumstances where it's all alone. Then you'll be able to use this tool to forcefully pass an inspection and clear your name from future scans. However, you'll need to leave your newly-obtained encryption protocols deactivated in the first place.

This issue needs to be resolved before it's too late. You're already lucky enough that the rangers didn't ask for your metadata the other day. You were most likely saved by the sheer distance between both incidents.

"Okay. Yeah, you're right. Let's get ahead of it."

"Now we're talking! Send me out once you see a target, I'll sweep the area."

==

Fifteen minutes later, you're prone on a roof, with your arms folded in front of you to casually support your chin. Several bots march down below, tagged separately by your goggles. Phascomon cups his eyes next to you, trying to get a good view. When outside of the Digivice, he can't borrow your perspective, so he's left to struggle with the tracking.

"There, that one. It's going down an alleyway."

"Got it. I'll make sure nobody else enters it."

You suck him back into the Digivice, then take a running leap off the roof with f1oat enabled. As you descend, you point to an awning that's much closer to your intended target.

"Hololize!"

Phascomon lands on it without issue, immediately scurrying off to get a good angle on the alley. You take a moment to admire your teamwork, before completing the rest of your descent and lightly touching down on the ground. The servitor is just up ahead. You lower your head and shuffle forward, making sure all your items are securely in your smuggling compartment. As you pass, you bump into the bot with your shoulder and click your tongue in irritation.

It barely moves when you collide with it, and your shoulder stings from the impact. It seems to be doing the trick. The robot turns around.

"Excuse me. Hello, Marnie."

"What do you want?"

You turn around to glare at it. Beams of light are projected from its head, catching you in a lattice of brilliant green lasers.

"You have been selected for a random search. We would like to request access to a portion of your metadata. Please accept the following request if you are willing to cooperate."

It's certainly not random, they're scanning everybody on their patrol route to see if they've already collected their data. You hope they don't go any deeper and double-check, for that will make this entire operation moot. A window pops up in front of you, with details regarding the time and date it's trying to scan.

"Ugh. Fine."