"Everyone, Her Excellency's birthday is coming up. This time, Iron Coin City absolutely cannot accomplish nothing like last time! No matter what, we have to come up with a huge sum of money to present to Her Excellency. What suggestions do you have?"
In the crude room, a man pressed his hands against the table and stared at the subordinates seated around him.
"Boss, it's not that we don't want to make money. The problem is, our list of taxes is already so thick. There's really nothing left to squeeze out of those lowlifes." One person helplessly patted the thick stack of documents on the table.
Breathing Tax, Entry Tax, Peace Tax, Sunlight Tax, Moonlight Tax, Sleep Tax—they had thought of practically every tax imaginable and put them all into effect.
If Her Excellency had not forbidden advance tax collection, they would have even considered collecting taxes several hundred years ahead of time.
The man's gaze instantly turned dangerous. Of course he knew there were many tax categories, that they were taxing everything they could think of, but what did that have to do with him?
His superiors pressured him for money, so he could only pressure these subordinates.
"I think we should add a lottery system. Those who draw odd numbers can only hop out the door on one leg, while those who draw even numbers can leave on both legs. That'll definitely let us squeeze out another fortune." A woman stood up. She had already noticed the dangerous look in the man's eyes.
No, she had to find a way to squeeze another bit of oil from those lowlifes.
Otherwise, they would have to "voluntarily" donate again.
They had worked so hard and paid money to become officials, not so they could keep paying out of pocket. She