Chapter 48: Where There Are People, There Is Conflict

In the room, Mr. Fox’s face was as cold as water. He looked much the same as before, but only he knew his scalp was tingling.

People often joke about the Federal Tax Bureau, saying if you offend them, you can’t even afford your pants. Few joke about the Federal Investigation Bureau.

Not because there’s no material for jokes or they don’t make mistakes—in fact, the bureau deals with many enforcement disputes and accidents yearly—but no one openly talks about it.

Everyone knows the Tax Bureau can make your life miserable, but the Investigation Bureau can end you. So no one whines publicly all the time.

The other party identified himself. Mr. Fox’s legs were already weak.

He stared at the man for a long moment. His son and subordinates, recovering from shock, found courage and stared angrily with him.

Only Mr. Fox knew he needed a moment to steady himself or he would collapse.

After a while, he took a deep breath, nodded, and said, “Fine,” then turned and sat down. “I want to see why you can make me lose my balance.”

He put on a strong front. Even his son thought this was a shining moment in Mr. Fox’s life, but only Mr. Fox knew his heart rate was already 180 bpm.

The agent kept smiling confidently, raising an eyebrow with a regretful expression. “You won’t like to hear this… The Federal Investigation Bureau has been watching you for some time.”

In another room, the Tax Bureau agent glanced at the Investigation Bureau agent beside him, who gave a dry nod.

This statement had issues: the problem was about priority.

Conflicts happen between any people; even more so between two top agencies.

The Federal Investigation Bureau and the Federal Tax Bureau operate in different fields but overlap somewhat.

For example, the Investigation Bureau’s Financial Crimes Division handles financial crimes, which often involve tax evasion.

Criminals hide some accounts; hiding means evading taxes. So there’s natural conflict, though it’s neither blatant nor fully suppressed.

The Financial Crimes Division agent took full credit for the case. These recordings would be presented in court and the media.

The phrase “we’ve been watching you for some time” proved their foresight. They had long suspected Mr. Fox’s money laundering, though evidence was insufficient. The Tax Bureau’s actions stirred them prematurely, almost ruining the case.

Fortunately, the Investigation Bureau corrected the course, earning some glory while overshadowing the Tax Bureau.

Normally, the Tax Bureau would send people to recover face, but now their own mess required focus on the current problem, with time to regain standing later.

Mr. Fox remained silent, as if unheard. His mind raced, wondering how a modest finance company caught the Investigation Bureau’s attention. Were they just bored?

The agent didn’t pause for his silence but spoke faster.

When information exceeds a person’s processing capacity, confusion arises, leading to slips.

“Since last month, your business has grown active, and your laundering speed increased…”

Though last month was about ten days ago, coinciding with Fox’s first deal with Lynch, the surge in coin deposits raised suspicion, unnoticed by Mr. Fox that the Investigation Bureau was watching.

Still silent, the agent continued, placing photos on the table: Fox with Lynch, and Fox’s men withdrawing money.

“After meeting Lynch, you established advanced laundering processes…”

“Lynch sourced hard-to-trace coins for you and designed a new fee system, enabling faster conversion of illegal income to legal deposits.”

“Mr. Fox, to put it bluntly, running a finance company charging illegal high interest while laundering money privately will earn you no less than twenty years in any district, state, or even supreme court.”

The agent’s casual words drew a cold breath from Mr. Fox’s son and men. At Fox’s age, surviving ten years would be hard; they planned to bury him in prison.

Mr. Fox’s eyelid twitched. “Evidence?” His voice started low, then grew loud. “You say all this—show the proof. Who can testify I charge high interest? Bring them here!”

“You say I launder money, but it’s all legal income!”

“If no evidence, I’ll sue for defamation!” He pulled out a cardholder, gave a card to his son, “Call the lawyer at the door.”

The agent pointed to the table. “Here’s a phone. You can call here.”

Mr. Fox sneered. “I doubt you’re not recording…” Then squeezed his son’s hand, “Go outside and call, quickly!”

He wasn’t sure if his son got the message: call and don’t return, to avoid being swept up.

Over the years, he stashed cash and valuables. If things went wrong, his son could escape abroad. Though Fox himself was trapped, he’d at least save the boy.

Life is for oneself and the next generation.

But sometimes things don’t go as planned. After calling, his son returned, making Mr. Fox sigh deeply and glare at him—the fool!

The agent nearly laughed at the son’s return. He couldn’t force someone without clear evidence to stay, but if they stayed voluntarily, he couldn’t refuse.

He glanced at his watch. “Hope your lawyer arrives soon. Otherwise, you might spend the night at the bureau…”

He shrugged. “The place isn’t pleasant—drafty, cage-like walls, smelly, toilet and bedroom combined!”

A clear threat. Anyone would feel assured. Meanwhile, the Investigation Bureau was preparing to arrest Lynch.

Once evidence surfaced, Fox would plead guilty. Regardless of Lynch’s legality, Fox would be an accomplice, and public opinion would turn.

The agent crossed his legs, had coffee brought in, and maintained composure. After all, financial crime investigators are more refined, dignified, and gentlemanly than frontline crime agents.