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Chapter 51: Everlasting Wheel of Karma
It was deadly silent!
Whether in this room or the adjacent one, the atmosphere was eerily silent.
Aside from the purple light source revealing nothing but a splatter of stains in the corner, there was nothing remotely startling that could catch one's attention, not even the slightest bit!
In the adjacent room, the team leader of the operation slammed the table abruptly. According to the plan, these coins were supposed to serve as evidence, having undergone special processing that gave them a fluorescent reaction. Once these pieces of evidence were illuminated, it would be sufficient to demonstrate that Lynch had hired individuals to gather coins from the market, with the intention of delivering them to Mr. Fox. The objective was to swiftly cleanse the illicit funds in Mr. Fox's possession through the launderette's value-added service and subsequently deposit them into the bank.
It was a complete process, and although from the current perspective, each step seemed legitimate, any person with a functioning brain could discern something illicit within each seemingly lawful step.
For instance, in Mr. Fox's laundry shop, the cost of washing a piece of clothing might exceed its actual value.
Or, for example, those laundering the clothes kept stuffing clean clothes back in for repeated washing, which in itself posed a problem.
Everyone who learned about this case could identify its issues. However, detecting problems didn't necessarily mean someone must accept legal consequences.
Everyone knew one shouldn't do wrong, but there were always those who committed wrongdoings and eluded justice because evidence was lacking.
The value of evidence and law extended beyond just apprehending wrongdoers; it was also to prevent certain special groups from recklessly controlling the country and society.
Everyone had to abide by the rules of the game; whoever broke the rules would become everyone's enemy.
They needed evidence for the judge to consider their arguments. However, the problem now was their inability to produce evidence, even though everyone knew something was fishy about the group in the room.
The coins lying quietly in the cart showed no suggestive fluorescent reaction, pitch black without a visible mark.
After about a minute of dead silence, the agent forcefully tapped the ultraviolet lamp several times and loudly requested a replacement, suspecting an issue with the lamp.
The newly delivered lamp yielded the same result—no evidence to shake anyone to the core. It was then that he, along with those behind him, realized why Lynch had remained so composed from the outset; he must have known the methods of the investigation bureau.
The task force and experts were deliberating on how to remedy the situation, which was why laundering money with coins was proving difficult to nail down with evidence.
Unlike bills, coins lacked serial numbers or any other identifiable features, making evidence collection challenging. They had considered using fluorescent agents, but even that had failed.
The lights in the room flickered back on. Lynch chuckled softly, "I still don't understand. Where is the evidence?" His fingers tapped the sofa armrest, emitting a hollow sound. "Our time is precious..."
After a period of discussion, the task force leader sighed. Detaining these people had lost its value at this stage.
The agent in the room gazed dismally at Lynch. Ever since Lynch arrived, the situation had gradually spun out of control. The entire task force realized that Lynch might have seen through their tactics early on. They wrongly assumed that Fox was the mastermind behind everything, which was their primary mistake.
The young agent packed up and approached Lynch. Assessing Lynch, who fearlessly maintained his composure, the agent stared into his eyes for a moment and pointed a finger at Lynch's chest. "We'll get you."
Lynch, with a sly smile, replied, "I look forward to that day."
Once the agent left, the tension in the room dissipated. Mr. Fox, who had been standing, suddenly sat down as his legs began to weaken.
He didn't expect that not only did he alert the tax bureau but also the investigation bureau. This smooth acquittal made him feel like he had a narrow escape or a second chance at life.
However, Lynch's face didn't show much joy. Just as Mr. Fox was about to say something, Lynch signaled him with his eyes, coincidentally at that moment, Mr. Fox's lawyer finally arrived.
Apologizing for his tardiness as he adjusted his tie, the lawyer said, "The downtown area was too congested at this time. I got stuck at several traffic lights..."
Mr. Fox looked displeased. He took out his checkbook, wrote a hundred-buck check, and stuffed it into the lawyer's jacket pocket. "You can go now!"
Although the lawyer didn't quite comprehend what had happened, he realized he might have ruined his business inadvertently. He attempted to explain that his lateness wasn't intentional, but it was evident that Mr. Fox was unwilling to engage with him, indicating that the situation was irredeemable.
After the lawyer left, Lynch finally reminded them, "Weren't you here for some business...?"
Later on, in private, the two had a brief chat, and it was evident that the day's events had left Mr. Fox quite reflective.
"Don't laugh at me, but my legs are still a bit weak now..." He patted his knee. "Even the investigation bureau has gotten involved. So... Shall we run away?"
In essence, his Gettnau Financial was just that—a financial company, nowhere near the various major crime syndicates blacklisted by major institutions. Compared to those major crime syndicates, he wasn't really that prominent.
He had never experienced such a situation before; at most, he had dealt with the tax bureau and local police. Now, involving the Federal Bureau of Investigation indicated that he might have to enjoy the treatment usually reserved for major crime syndicate leaders.
Twenty-four-hour surveillance without respite, phone taps, even invasions of office or private spaces for bugging—everything would be thoroughly investigated, all in an attempt to throw him into prison.
Just the thought made him feel anxious. Although he had this awareness, it didn't mean he was willing to go to jail.
In contrast, Lynch remained composed, unruffled. "We're conducting legitimate business activities protected by federal law. Why should we run?" He casually flipped through a newspaper on the nearby table. "Remember, keep your accounts clean, be transparent, and don't give them a chance to nail you."
"If they can't pin anything on you, they won't uncover those black holes you've hidden. The judge won't accept their arguments, and the public won't tolerate their abuse of power."
"The more afraid you are, the more it suggests your guilt. The more you seem guilty, the more people believe you have something to hide. When that day comes, even if you're innocent, people will think you're guilty and will also agree with actions that, in our eyes, seem out of line."
"So, there's no need to fear. Just do what needs to be done. As long as we handle things well, no one can touch us."
"After all, this is a society governed by law."
Mr. Fox had no idea where Lynch found the confidence to face the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Federal Tax Bureau with such determination, attributing it solely to the young man's audacity.
However, something seemed to be changing within him inwardly.
This sudden, bizarre summons hadn't changed much. Well, perhaps it would change someone or a family, but not Lynch and his family.
The next morning, through Vera's accounting firm, Lynch obtained the phone number for the office of the Director of the Federal Tax Bureau in Sabin City.
Things had developed to this stage, and it was almost time to end it. Since it started with one person, then it should end with that specific person.
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