The Big Boss Visits the Farm Again

"Our state's agricultural taxes have been greatly reduced! We've ended the target prices and deficiency payments that have been in place since the thirties, switching to direct payments instead. We're also allowing farmers to adjust their crops according to market demand. I just looked over your land—around two hundred acres, would you say? How many hands do you employ?"

"We never hire help," Locke interrupted calmly. "After all."

Wages for hired hands were taxable too!

"That's fine, you can hire workers from now on!"

"Because wages for hired workers will now be tax-exempt too!!"

"The equipment tax deduction cap has been raised~"

"Oh, right, estate valuations can also receive preferential treatment, with up to 50% of estate taxes exempted!"

Kristen was getting into the swing of things.

Kristen began speaking grandly.

Completely

Missing the twitching corner of Locke's mouth.

He was so angry he laughed.

"Mr. Kristen, if that's all, there's no need to tell us."

"As for taxes, we'll report them at the tax office in town ourselves, just as we have every year."

This kind of reform could only fool young farmers!

That bastard only talked about the benefits while completely ignoring the rising costs of pesticides, fertilizer, and seeds.

And that so-called market liberalization.

Heh.

Once everyone rushed to plant high-profit crops like corn, it would mean overproduction had arrived.

Besides, did this guy have nothing else to say?

He was actually flaunting something like estate taxes.

Agricultural estate taxes.

Locke did not even need to think about it to know that once this policy came out.

A great deal of capital would inevitably start eyeing the subsidies.

Land speculation would intensify, along with the wealth gap in land ownership.

Farmland would become a core estate-tax loophole for corrupt officials, landed gentry, and wealthy tycoons.

And if Locke remembered correctly, in the future, those massive farms that controlled huge amounts of land would directly control 89% of all crop production in the United States!

Small family farms like theirs would have their room to survive squeezed away bit by bit until, in the end, they were scrapped like old tractors.

"Ha ha ha ha."

Seeing Locke laugh aloud, Kristen laughed along with him.

In his eyes, Locke's cold smile was clearly the joy of sudden realization, while Jonathan's nodding expression was the honest agreement unique to simple farmers.

God!

Kristen cheered inwardly.

At last, he had met people who understood!

"Thank you both so much for your understanding!"

Kristen was so excited that he could barely hold onto his briefcase. His trembling fingers pulled out a form.

"This is our tax office's Tax Law Improvement Support Confirmation Form. You two just need to sign it!"

The moment his words fell.

"Pfft!"

Locke suddenly burst out laughing.

"Ha ha ha!"

Jonathan slapped his thigh and joined in.

Martha covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

Clark looked left and right. Though he had no idea what was going on, he still joined in with a foolish "Heh heh."

It could not be wrong to be happy with everyone else!

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Kristen was even more delighted at the sight, laughing so loudly that dust fell from the windowsill.

For a moment.

The house was filled with laughter and cheer.

The joyful atmosphere lasted a full three minutes, until Jonathan suddenly wiped away tears from laughing and looked at Dio and Clark. "Kids, go outside first."

"Huh?"

"Go out and play for a while. We have something to discuss with Mr. Kristen," Locke said, rubbing Dio and Clark's heads. "Isn't today the last day of your school break?"

"Go get some air. Don't stay cooped up in here all day."

"Okay."

Dio nodded and pulled the bewildered Clark toward the door.

Seeing this, Kristen did not understand, but he still took a fountain pen from his pocket and prepared to hand it to Jonathan and Locke.

But.

"Sorry, Mr. Kristen." Once the children had gone outside, Jonathan's expression turned serious. "We don't support it."

"That's right. We'll still pay our taxes according to the law."

The smile was still on Locke's lips, but his eyes had turned cold. "But that doesn't mean we support this reform."

"You gentlemen are..."

His smile froze on his face, and the hand holding the pen hung in midair.

Kristen felt like a clown.

Unruly peasants!

The muscles in his face twitched a few times before settling into a twisted sneer.

He slammed the gold-trimmed signature form onto the coffee table.

"Then I won't stay any longer." Kristen's voice seemed to squeeze out through clenched teeth. "You two..."

"Make sure to pay on time and in full—"

Before he could finish.

"Tap, tap, tap."

The crisp sound of polished leather shoes came from the porch, along with a voice. "Are you..."

"Kristen?"

Who was calling him?

"Whoever you are," Kristen said irritably, turning around, "please call me Mr. Ford."

His voice stopped abruptly, as though someone had grabbed him by the throat.

The man standing at the door wore a tailored suit, and behind gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes held a hint of scrutiny.

"Y-you are..."

The tax officer's knees went weak. "M-Mr. Luthor?"

There was no way he could mistake him!

Last month, when he had accompanied the director to receive this man, even a pen the man had used once had been personally stored in the director's safe at home.

It had left a deep impression on him!

How did he know?

Obviously, the director's wife had told him.

After looking around at everyone's expressions, Lionel seemed to understand. He gave Locke a slight nod, then said.

"Mr. Ford, what is this?"

F-Ford.

Mr. Ford?

Kristen's back was instantly drenched in cold sweat. He frantically grabbed up the documents.

"O-of course, Mr. Luthor! I'll, I'll be leaving right—"

Kristen rushed out the door as if fleeing for his life, his mind nearly overloaded.

Damn it, if you had connections like this, why didn't you say so earlier?!

Did all you rich people have something wrong with you?!

Hearing the screech of tires scraping against the ground outside, Jonathan finally could not hold back his laughter.

"Ha ha ha! Martha, did you see his face? He looked like a pumpkin that had been run over by a tractor!"

Ignoring Jonathan behind him, whose grin had nearly split to his ears, Locke stepped forward and shook Lionel's hand. "Thank you."

Honestly.

He had been planning to pay that man a visit and teach him a lesson.

Because...

No one could threaten him or his family—

So thought Locke, who was steadily evolving into a family man.

"No need to thank me. I happened to be passing by and thought I'd come see you all."

Lionel smiled warmly and looked at Jonathan and Martha inside. "These two must be...?"

"I just saw you on television. You're Mr. Lionel Luthor, aren't you?"

"I'm Jonathan Kent, Locke's older brother."

Jonathan stepped forward and shook Lionel's hand, then added, "This is my wife, Martha Kent."

"Pleased to meet you both. I'm Lionel Luthor."

"Yes, yes, pleased to meet you, Mr. Luthor."

"Not at all. The pleasure is mine, Mr. Jonathan."

"Not at all."

The three began an endless cycle of polite courtesies, until one of them finally stopped talking.

The room fell silent at once.

The three stared at one another.

"Hiss—"

Jonathan suddenly sucked in a breath.

Martha pinched him from behind and whispered, "What are you standing around for? Go make coffee for our guest!"

"Ha ha ha, look at me." Jonathan smiled awkwardly and turned toward the kitchen.

"I'll make you a blueberry pie, Mr. Luthor," Martha said gently. "You and Locke take your time talking."

For a moment, only the two men remained in the living room.

Lionel suddenly chuckled.

"Your family..."

"Is quite interesting."

"They really are wonderful." Locke nodded in agreement, then asked curiously, "By the way, how did you...?"

"I ran into Dio at the intersection."

Lionel adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and pointed to the empty space beside him. "Otherwise, where did you think my son was?"

Only then did Locke realize that the little bald boy was indeed nowhere to be seen.

"Dio and Clark? I originally didn't want to disturb the children during their break." Lionel sighed. "But when Lex heard about the school bus incident Dio went through, he insisted on coming to see him."

"You know, it has been hard for Lex to go out since the last incident. It's rare for him to show interest in anything now, so I..."

"Say no more, Lionel."

Locke smiled. "You're always welcome here."

He truly had not expected Luthor and Dio's friendship to be so deep.

Locke thought proudly.

As expected of my son Dio.

But before he could feel proud for even two seconds, Locke's expression suddenly turned strange.

Wait.

Was this Clark and Luthor's first historic meeting outside right now?

Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Would they start fighting?

Could the little bald boy take two punches?

Not noticing Locke's strange expression, Lionel's gaze swept over the golden wheat fields beyond the window.

"Mr. Locke," he suddenly said. "I noticed that you seem..."

"Not very supportive of this tax reform?"