You Have the Right to Remain Silent, Everything You Say Can and Will Be Used Against You

Before the Revenue Service closed, around 4 PM, Mr. Fox had someone take the money and his set of various voucher stubs to the Revenue Service for registration.

That's how the Federal laws are; if you want to deposit more than five thousand, you must provide the bank with legal proof.

The proof isn't that the money is genuine, but proof of how it was obtained and whether taxes were paid on it.

Without this proof, the bank won't accept the cash and will increase the monitoring level of the relevant accounts accordingly.

Some people used to solve this problem relatively simply, for example, by splitting ten thousand into ten parts, then having ten different people deposit it into their accounts and transfer it to a designated account.

This would effectively evade the Federal government's Large Cash Management Regulations. Why don't people do it? It's simple: once bank transfers become concentrated, the bank considers the risk too high and will directly freeze the outflow and inflow accounts until both parties can provide sufficient evidence that the money is legal, then they will unfreeze the accounts.

The fact is that they naturally can't prove it, so the bank will confiscate the funds, pay a special tax to the Revenue Service on its own initiative, and swallow the rest.

If the account holder is not satisfied, they can sue, but most accounts that encounter such problems ultimately choose to suffer in silence, lest they end up losing both money and face.

Besides the banks monitoring various accounts, the Bureau of Investigation's Financial Crime Investigation Department is also watching them. Perhaps some survivors exist, but more are being caught.

Countless cases have repeatedly reminded people that they can break the law, but they can't fail to pay taxes.

After Mr. Fox's nephew and several subordinates delivered the money to the Revenue Service in a box truck for registration, they took the form stamped with the Sabine City tax registration completion seal to the nearby Prosperous Glory Bank, a very old bank and one of the empire's six major banks.

Its founder was the Prosperous Glory Prince from the Bayer Empire era, the predecessor of the Bayer Federation. Although the empire has fallen, some things have been preserved.

The moment the group pushed the cart used to transport change into the bank, a huge crystal chandelier hung down from the upper space, which was at least twenty meters high, and the light was transmitted through each crystal prism to every corner of the bank.

The daily maintained marble floor was like a mirror, and the rare golden natural marble hidden beneath the mirror surface emitted a radiant glow under the light.

This place was like a golden palace, exuding an air of nobility everywhere.

An extraordinary bank manager was already standing by the door waiting for the group, with a warm smile on his face as he greeted them. He kept asking questions and filling out a form on the clipboard in his hand, and also looked at the tax registration form in the hands of the escort.

Although called a bank manager, he was actually a Prosperous Glory Bank client manager. At least twenty such managers were in this hall, each with their own independent office and their own clients.

"Please wait a moment, I'll make a declaration..." The manager asked the staff to bring some coffee and snacks while walking towards the administrative office inside. This was a standard procedure.

A large amount of change deposited in cash requires a considerable number of people to "sift" through it. The bank has a sifter, like the sieves in farmers' homes in the countryside. Through continuous manual screening, coins of different denominations and sizes will fall from different holes, speeding up the counting.

Although the bank considers this a very fast method, it still takes some time.

Just then, the phone behind Mr. Fox, who was enjoying Kolef, suddenly rang. He took a puff of Kolef, and the rich smoke was textured like a thick liquid as it was enveloped in his mouth. He stirred his tongue, and every floating molecule that broke apart brought him a pleasant enjoyment.

On the third ring of the phone, he blinked and walked to the table to answer it, "This is Gatnau Financial Company..."

A sweet operator's voice immediately came from the other end of the phone, "Dear Mr. Fox, I am a telephone service staff member of Prosperous Glory Bank. There is an abnormality in the deposit and withdrawal of your account in our bank. If you have time, please go to the nearby Prosperous Glory Bank hall for processing as soon as possible..."

"There's a problem with my account?" Mr. Fox didn't immediately realize this was a trap, nor did he think he was the one in the trap. He simply thought there might be a problem with the cash checks he had been dealing with recently.

Because of some reasons that everyone more or less knows, forged cash checks happen many times every year in the Bayer Federation.

No matter how counterfeit-proof cash checks are, it is difficult to completely eliminate counterfeiting in the end. In addition, this era has not yet entered the era of electronic information, and interstate check cashing is a complicated and lengthy process for banks, but for those counterfeiters, it is only a moment.

This has also created hundreds of disputes every year. Most of the time, banks are not willing to bear all the responsibility themselves. They will try their best to find problems with the check owner and reduce their compensation as much as possible.

Whenever something similar happens, they will notify the account owner to resolve it at the bank, or upgrade their cash checkbook.

Mr. Fox hung up the phone, curled his lips, and quickly came to the bank with his son. What surprised him a little was that his men were still in the manager's office, and the money had not been deposited yet. The speed seemed a little slow today.

"Not done yet?" He frowned. At his age, he had passed the age of liking surprises and accidents. Whenever things underwent some unpredictable changes, it would make him feel irritable.

The manager nodded, "There are quite a few people handling business today, so we can't spare too many people for the time being. Please wait a moment..."

At the same time, unnoticed by Mr. Fox, at least two cameras and one video camera were aimed at him. When the Bureau of Investigation and the Federal Revenue Service join forces to deal with someone, especially when that person may be a criminal, they never need to wait too long.

"Almost ready, we can move out..."

Before Mr. Fox could reach the service desk, a guy who looked like a bank employee walked in from outside. The manager in the room left directly, and the guy who came in had a clipboard in his hand, smiling as he pointed to the sofa next to Mr. Fox, "Sit!"

This action, which seemed a bit unclear to Mr. Fox, immediately triggered his vigilance. Most people with some trouble on their hands are in a state of alertness for a long time.

He didn't sit, but frowned and asked, "Who are you?"

The man smiled, without answering Mr. Fox's question, but instead asked the staff in the office who were counting coins to stop. In order to directly nail these people down, the Revenue Service adopted the decision of the Bureau of Investigation.

They will not transfer these coins, just to completely block Mr. Fox's last excuse—that the money left their sight and might be replaced.

Although it looks a bit stupid, it works, after all, the meaning above is to end this matter as soon as possible, and the sooner the better.

The man slowly opened his lapel, revealing the documents stuck in his pocket, and the Bureau of Investigation badge, "Financial Crime Investigation Department Action Team, Mr. Fox, please sit down, I'm afraid you won't be able to stand steady after hearing what I'm about to say..."

In another room, three solemn-faced people were wearing headsets, and in addition to this sentence, there was some slight noise in the headsets.

On the table in front of them, two recording devices were slowly turning