The Shadow Tycoon
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 12: Hunting Michael’s Weakness
“Do you have Michael’s family information?”
After wandering around outside for a while and making sure no one was following him, William came to Mr. Fox’s basement office.
There was a trace of pity for the weak on his face. This was the greatest tragedy of men like Mr. Fox in this era.
They were rich. Perhaps not compared with the great capitalists, but compared with ordinary small businessmen, they had more than enough. Yet they could not even rent themselves a decent office.
They could not see the light. Neither their business nor their wealth was protected by law. On the contrary, both attracted the law’s attention. So they could only work in this damp, mold-stinking basement.
The mildew in the corners and the yellowing decorative panels made William want to laugh. If he had this much money and these kinds of resources, he would have taken off long ago.
His “business” with Mr. Fox was still in its honeymoon period. William, who could provide more than ten thousand dollars in change every day, had become the person Mr. Fox cared about most lately.
At first, Mr. Fox had thought William could not do it. But as time passed, William’s speed grew faster and faster. Now he could deliver change three or four times a day.
Compared with the dozen or so times on the first day, the number of trips had clearly fallen, but the amount of change he provided had only increased. This very effectively helped Mr. Fox turn that money into money that could be deposited into the bank as quickly as possible.
Before closing time each day, he would proactively report income once and have the IRS people come watch them empty the coin boxes of every washing machine. After counting, the money would be deposited directly into the bank.
Large sums deposited into a bank required tax documentation proving the money was legal before the bank would allow it into the system.
This meant Mr. Fox’s money was being washed faster and faster. Perhaps in only a few months, he would be able to rent a street-facing storefront in the busiest part of Sabine City and work in a splendid, respectable environment.
That was why the relationship between the two men had remained good. William had made some money, while also freeing Mr. Fox from certain troubles. It was a suitable business.
Today, when William arrived here, his first sentence was to ask about Michael’s family information. The man had repeatedly caused him trouble and had punched him once. William could not pretend nothing had happened. He wanted revenge.
Mr. Fox frowned, then quickly relaxed. “You shouldn’t tangle with him. You know, he’s a man with a ‘license.’ In the end, the one who suffers definitely won’t be him.”
A man with a “license” did not mean someone with a driver’s license. It meant someone working for the Federation government, someone with law-enforcement authority. Such people were troublesome. They naturally regarded one another as part of the same whole.
When you dealt with one of them, you might not be dealing with just him, but with the entire group.
There had once been an interesting incident. A lawyer received a ticket from a mounted policeman for illegal parking. The lawyer joked with his friends that not only would he not have to pay the fine, he could even make the mounted policeman apologize. His friends did not believe him.
Before long, the lawyer sued the local police station in court, and after a fierce courtroom argument, he won the case. Just as he had said, he did not have to pay any fine, and the mounted policeman apologized to him in court and in front of the media.
But was that the end of the story?
It was not.
The lawyer won the lawsuit but lost his life. Starting from the day he won, police stations across all seventeen states of the Federation began watching him.
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