Chapter 3331: Bloody New City (91)

Three days ago, in a sealed office on the top floor of the IRS headquarters in Washington, the blinds filtered the cool-toned daylight. The digital clock read 15:47.

Senior Commissioner Bavil Shi Misi sat at her desk, fingers tapping unconsciously on the surface, surrounded by a pile of unprocessed files.

A phone ringtone suddenly broke the office's silence. An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen. Bavil frowned and answered.

"Bavil Shi Misi, this is Bruce Wei En," a lazy, confident voice came from the other end.

Bavil leaned forward slightly, her tone tinged with vigilance: "Mr. Wei En, what can I do for you?"

"I heard you've been chasing the Cat Getan Ponlag Group cross-border tax evasion case for three years without success?" Bruce's voice carried a hint of playfulness. "I have a Christmas gift from Cat Getan here; I wonder if you'd be interested?"

Bavil's brow furrowed deeper: "What kind of gift?"

"I've sent you some files via an encrypted channel; you can take a look first." As Bruce finished speaking, a faint sound of keyboard typing came from the other end.

A prompt for an encrypted file transfer popped up on Bavil's computer screen. She quickly entered the password. When the file opened, her pupils contracted—it was the private ledger of the Wei En Group's board of directors, detailing the tax evasion activities of dozens of Cat Getan's elite.

"These files... are enough to send half the elite of the Wei En Group to prison," Bavil whispered, her tone laced with disbelief.

"That's right," Bruce's voice remained relaxed. "Useless parasites should pay the price for their greedy and shameless conduct. I suggest you form a special audit team; I'll have Cat Getan City Hall clear the way for you."

"Are you serious? Do you know how much of a blow this will be to your own group?"

"Of course. In fact, I went to quite some trouble to get these; my good CEO Fox is still lying in the hospital because of it."

"... The assassination attempt on the Wei En Group CEO was your doing?!"

"Now is not the time to discuss that. I fully understand Fox's decision to condone their behavior, but that doesn't mean I'm going to continue tolerating it. Think about it carefully, ma'am; this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Bavil's fingers tapped repeatedly against the edge of the file, the metal cap of her fountain pen making a faint "click-clack" sound.

Her mind quickly weighed the pros and cons. Finally, she took a deep breath, picked up her pen, and signed her name on the transfer order.

"I will form the special audit team as soon as possible," Bavil said, her tone tinged with fanaticism.

"Excellent," Bruce's voice carried a hint of a smile. "I look forward to our cooperation."

At the IRS temporary base in Cat Getan, bulletproof glass was guarded by armed sentries. Bavil walked into the room to see Bruce Wei En sitting in a chair, his shirt half-damp and his hair disheveled.

Although it wasn't clear what had happened between him and the Pale Knight, the crazy high-speed chase battle between the two indicated their relationship wasn't so simple.

"Mr. Wei En, thank you for cooperating with our witness protection program," Bavil said, her tone carrying a hint of formulaic politeness.

Bruce looked up, the corners of his mouth curling slightly: "Are you wondering why you need to protect me if I'm Batman? But I'm sorry, ma'am, you've got it wrong. I am Bruce, not some Batman."

Bavil curled her lip in disdain: "Are you going to say you're the one who funded Batman next? Do you think I'm some third-rate detective?"

With a *snap*, she threw an identity file in front of Bruce. "The IRS has known your true identity for a long time, Batman. This is no secret."

Bruce didn't answer, instead pulling a USB drive from his pocket and inserting it into the computer on the table. The screen immediately played surveillance footage—Batman fighting a group of criminals at the Cat Getan docks, while at the same time, Bruce Wei En was giving a speech at a charity gala on the top floor of the Wei En Tower.

"Simple tricks. I can make three such alibis in a minute," Bavil still didn't believe it at all.

"I'm asking you to run a facial comparison," Bruce sneered. "Then you'll understand that although we look very similar, we aren't the same person; there's an age difference."

Bavil frowned slowly, but she still picked up the USB drive and threw it to her subordinate behind her. Seeing Bruce's unconcerned attitude, her thinking had already begun to shift.

After all, if the Wei En Group could find a tax team capable of perfectly handling the IRS, then he would have a way to hide the true connection between Bruce and Batman. Whether it was one person or two, it was all up to him to say.

The results were exactly as Bruce had said: the facial analysis results for Bruce and Batman were very similar, but the differences in skeletal details indicated they were not the same person, but rather had an age gap.

"Am I going to hear a story about brothers teaming up to deceive the whole world?" Bavil asked.

"That won't happen, because there's no time for stories now. We need to talk about the Wei En Group's problems."

An organizational chart of the Wei En Group was spread out on the safe house table. Bruce's finger traced lightly over the chart: "The Wei En Group's tax team helped twelve shell companies with reverse mergers last year. All operations were completely legal, and they even issued tax-exempt receipts for homeless shelters."

Bavil sneered: "The operation is flawless. Do you want me to applaud you?"

Bruce smiled and clicked on an encrypted email: "But what if the board of directors also privately diverted public welfare funds from African medical projects? And the Cat Getan Natural Disaster Fund, the East Coast Children's Security Fund, the Canadian Forestry Natural Conservation Fund..."

Bavil's gaze fell on the contents of the email, her brow furrowing slightly: "Do you think we haven't tried to investigate? I don't know how much you paid them, but they really did it almost perfectly."

"That's exactly why they need to go to prison," Bruce's voice carried a hint of coldness. "The era is moving forward, and I need a clean Wei En Group to control Cat Getan, which is collapsing from the top down."

Bavil narrowed her eyes: "Are you planning to vacate the position to swallow the Carter Group? Kidnapping, gambling, tax audits—are they all part of your conspiracy to dominate Cat Getan alone?"

"If you insist on thinking of me that badly, I don't want to explain further," Bruce shrugged. "But the fact is, letting this group of idiots govern Cat Getan is worse than me doing it alone."

Bavil looked into Bruce's eyes; she didn't know how much ambition she saw there. But she knew Bruce was right—this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Regardless of what could actually be investigated, as long as she dared to strike at the Wei En Group, no other idiot would dare to challenge the IRS again. She would become the most successful IRS commissioner in American history.

"What are you planning to do?" Bavil looked into his eyes. "You must first provide me with a flaw, otherwise I won't act easily."

"Small problem," Bruce smiled. "I'll let you see my sincerity."

In the temporary office, Bavil looked at the organizational chart provided by Bruce. A day had passed, and Bavil still hadn't figured out from which angle to strike at the Wei En Group.

*Flawless, * she thought. If they acted rashly without a fatal blow, the retaliation they would face would be extremely terrifying.

The phone rang again. She answered and heard her subordinate's anxious voice: "Boss, the Federal Reserve system has been breached! Someone hacked into the backend!"

Bavil's heart sank: "Who did it?"

"It's not clear yet, but the system shows the intruder used the Wei En Group's encryption protocol."

Bavil hung up and quickly dialed Bruce's number: "You hacked into the Federal Reserve system?!!"

Bruce's calm voice came from the other end: "Yes. How's that for a flaw?"

"How is it? I told you to sell a flaw, not to poke a hole in the sky!" Bavil gripped the phone tightly, her knuckles turning white. "Do you know that if this charge sticks, you'll be in prison until the next Big Bang?!!"

"Risk and reward are proportional, aren't they?" Bruce's voice carried a hint of a smile. "To make my crime stick, not just you, but the FBI will also do their best. They are the best helpers; our combined law enforcement power is enough to search all of Cat Getan."

Bavil took a deep breath and finally calmed down: "Fine. You'd better be prepared. Before we catch you, we're going to knock on every door of the Wei En Group's executives."

"God bless them. Amen."

In a bar in Cat Getan's Lower District, an old bartender was wiping a whiskey glass with the "Iceberg Lounge" logo. On the TV, footage of Councilman Carter being escorted into a police car played on a loop, and the customers in the bar were discussing it heatedly.

"That bastard Carter withheld our workers' compensation last year! This bastard really deserves it!" a construction worker slammed his glass, saying angrily.

"I saw his wife transporting luxury goods in an ambulance with my own eyes, while his factory killed a single mother in a safety accident two days ago. This is his retribution!" a nurse sneered, her tone filled with disdain.

Everyone gloated over Carter's imprisonment, the atmosphere heated.

Just then, the bar door was pushed open, and Commissioner Gordon walked in. "So, you're all here."

"Commissioner, you're just in time. I heard that Carter was caught by old Sid and the others. Is it true?"

"That's right. He almost ran away, but he was caught in the end. You didn't see how pathetic he looked when he fell into the rainwater..."

Gordon gestured as he spoke. The people in the bar listened with great interest. The nurse from before clicked her tongue: "I thought they had some real skills. Turns out they were chased like stray dogs, no better than the thieves on Welsh Street."

"Don't even mention it. He's no match for those pickpockets. If it had been Catwoman, those agents wouldn't have caught her even if they grew two more legs."

"Hahaha, who's to say otherwise."

The crowd continued to discuss Carter's affair heatedly. Gordon had a few more drinks and mumbled while leaning on the bar: "You don't know yet, the X15 chemical plant filled the slums' foundations with carcinogenic waste, causing so many people to get cancer..."

"I think I heard about that. Is it the one next to St. Marino Church? A friend's mother was diagnosed..."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard it from a nurse friend too..."

The customers in the bar began to discuss the chemical plant's evil deeds in low voices. Gordon took the opportunity to guide the topic toward the pharmaceutical giant, Ponlag.

"The owner of that chemical plant is the pharmaceutical complex giant Ponlag. He's one of the richest people in Cat Getan. I heard his cash flow is higher than the Wei En Group's..."

"Ponlag? That pharmaceutical tycoon? Wasn't he kidnapped too?" someone asked.

"That's right. This is his retribution too. Do you think he'll end up like Carter..."

"Definitely. By the way, I have to go to the Iceberg Lounge and bet heavily on him. He'll definitely get 20 years!"

"Too little. If you ask me, it'll be at least 35 years..."

"I think we should contact friends living near St. Marino Church, find cancer patients, and let them stand up to identify Ponlag together. That will definitely send him to prison for life!"

"Right, let him go eat prison food like Carter!"

In the printing plant, machines roared. The Cat Getan Daily had already been reprinted three times, and the Carter Group's bottom line had been stripped bare.

Near the outer wall of the sealed Carter Group building, street kids gathered in twos and threes. They used spray paint to outline a huge portrait of Carter on the wall. The face was comical and ugly, accompanied by a pair of handcuffs, constantly reminding people of the fate of this damn bloodsucker.

Ruth stood on the top floor of a nearby building, a cold sneer on her lips. The shackles of thought that the elite used to impose on the bottom layer through oppression and class segregation had developed a crack with the ugly imprisonment of Carter.

Before long, the most terrifying beast in the world would be released from its cage, and the solid walls built by the glamorous upper class would be nothing more than sandcastles that would crumble at a single touch.

(End of chapter)