The Shadow Tycoon
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 6: The Weight of Small Money
“Today’s money...”
Mr. Fox looked at the money sacks William had hauled in only after great effort and two trips back and forth, then fell silent for a moment.
To be honest, his people had been watching William the entire time, so he already knew how William had obtained all this change. It left him curious, and a little shocked, by the way William’s mind worked.
What kind of man could come up with a method like this to gather coins so quickly without creating any obvious disturbance in society?
At this point, he could very well follow William’s method himself. That way he would save the ten percent fee. But he had no intention of doing so.
All at once, he realized that compared with the ten percent fee, what was truly valuable was William’s head. That astonishing head of his was his greatest asset.
“Want to count it?” William straightened up, rolled his shoulders, and let out a breath. Without the slightest concern for appearances, he dropped into a chair, took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and drew on it comfortably. “I can wait.”
Mr. Fox shook his head and had his men take the coins away. Later, the money would be sent to the IRS for counting and registration, then taxed, then deposited in the bank.
For people like Mr. Fox, there had never been any particularly good way or proper channel to solve these problems.
To put it bluntly, most men in this line of work were not exactly members of the social elite.
They did not have much education, and they understood nothing about many specialized fields. Some could barely read.
Their business had never required any of that. As long as a man was not afraid to die and not afraid of trouble, he could do it. Naturally, that created many problems.
In recent years, the Baler Federation’s FBI and IRS had been watching people like them closely. They were not only trying to catch certain activities, they were also watching the money in their pockets.
They did not have much legitimate business, which created all kinds of trouble. Having money but being unable to spend it had become a silent kind of agony.
For this reason, the Baler Federation had also introduced a series of legal clauses restricting large cash transactions. Under the regulations, any cash transaction over five thousand dollars had to be reported, and anything over fifty thousand dollars had to undergo review.
Even depositing a large sum of cash into a bank required advance disclosure of the source of funds and the possible intended use of the money, along with sufficient and complete tax payment certificates proving there was no issue with the money.
With that kind of full-spectrum blockade, and with IRS investigators, agents, and senior agents watching closely, everyone was having a hard time.
The vaults were plainly stuffed with cash, yet they could not take it out. Even going out to enjoy themselves once might subject them to targeted questioning and review. That kind of life was truly difficult.
But now, from William, Mr. Fox saw something special. Not merely something as simple as coin transactions, but something more, something he had long desired.
He came back to himself in a slight daze, looked at William, and shrugged. “I should pay you...”
“Round it down. Five hundred sixty dollars.” William generously wiped away a few dollars in loose change. It was also a way to build trust between them.
Mr. Fox smiled. He pulled open a drawer. Inside lay a great deal of cash, including plenty of fifty-dollar and hundred-dollar bills.
As his hand reached toward the hundred-dollar bills, William gave a light cough. “I think fives and tens would be better. Don’t you?”
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