The Shadow Tycoon
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 50: The First Signs of Panic
“He’s starting to panic...”
Unseen by the people inside the room, others were observing the situation.
The moment William entered, a flash of obvious panic appeared in Mr. Fox’s eyes.
Their plan was working.
Most criminals weren’t overly frightened when arrested alone. They could choose what to reveal, minimize their own involvement, or shift blame onto someone else to reduce their liability.
But once two or more accomplices were caught together, an uncontrollable sense of panic began spreading through them.
They wondered whether the others had confessed.
What had they confessed to?
How had they described it?
Did their statements match what they themselves knew or intended to say?
Under those circumstances, two outcomes usually emerged.
The first was complete silence.
People like that were rare. Sometimes investigators could go three or five years without encountering one.
The second was the exact opposite.
The suspect talked endlessly, holding nothing back and revealing everything.
The Financial Crimes Division might only be one bureau within the Federation FBI, but it was still part of the FBI.
Its agents dealt with criminals every day.
They knew how to apply pressure.
And they knew how to get what they wanted.
The moment William entered the room, he noticed Mr. Fox trying to stand.
But he stopped himself.
The situation was delicate.
After giving him a reassuring look, William calmly sat down on the sofa.
That composure calmed Mr. Fox.
Thoughts that had escaped him moments earlier began resurfacing.
For example, William’s repeated insistence that he never obtain coins from anyone else.
Perhaps William had anticipated all of this long ago.
Perhaps he had already prepared for it.
The thought eased the tension in Mr. Fox’s face.
His body gradually relaxed as well.
The expert observing from the monitoring room frowned.
He had noticed every change in Mr. Fox’s demeanor.
Although he couldn’t understand why William’s appearance had reduced rather than increased Fox’s stress, it was obviously not a good sign.
He immediately instructed the field agents to continue the interrogation and not wait for the lawyer to arrive.
At the same time, a hypothesis formed in his mind, one he scarcely believed himself.
Perhaps the true mastermind behind the entire operation was not Mr. Fox, the old fox everyone assumed him to be.
Perhaps it was the ordinary-looking young man beside him.
That realization gave him a bad feeling.
A very bad feeling.
If they had misidentified the key player from the beginning, then every part of their strategy had been directed at the wrong target.
The pressure applied would be wrong.
The methods used would be wrong.
And the results would inevitably be wrong.
It was like torturing a soldier while hoping to shake an empire.
If they got the hierarchy wrong, they would never gain leverage over the person who truly mattered.
The agent inside the office hesitated briefly.
Then he cleared his throat and glanced at William.
“This gentleman, Mr. Carter, has only just arrived. He may not understand why we’ve invited everyone here...”
Before he could continue, Mr. Fox interrupted.
“Until my lawyer arrives, we refuse to answer any questions.”
The agent, who had appeared somewhat casual moments earlier, immediately sneered.
Without the slightest courtesy, he pointed at Mr. Fox.
“You can keep your mouth shut. I wasn’t talking to you.”
The two men stared at each other for several seconds.
Then the agent turned toward William.
“We’ve received reports that you and others have been using laundromats to launder money and engage in related criminal activities. Do you admit it?”
The question sounded almost childish.
Who asked a criminal whether he admitted being a criminal?
Real criminals rarely confessed so easily.
In reality, the agent was simply taking advantage of William’s age.
He wanted to bluff him.
Testing the waters cost nothing.
And if it worked?
The room contained multiple recording devices and cameras.
Any reaction could become evidence.
A smirk that implied acknowledgment.
A joking nod.
Even a sarcastic expression suggesting admission.
All of it could be used.
Evidence was concerned with objective facts.
The court did not care what William had truly intended.
If he admitted something, or behaved in a way that reasonably implied admission, the court could interpret it as a confession.
The tactic worked particularly well against young people.
Youth often came with an urge to challenge authority.
If that impulse surfaced and wasn’t controlled, the trap snapped shut.
Under the agent’s expectant gaze, William’s response seemed unusually slow.
First he frowned.
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