0007 It is not evil that creates darkness, but light!

"Riches glitter with a golden light that will draw in all those who are lost in the mists of poverty!"

"They may not be able to get enough to make them shine as well, but they can change their lives somewhat."

The words were Lynch's, and in the course of a few days the newspaper heads throughout Sabine learned that there was a man who could turn change into whole money quickly and profitably.

Massive amounts of change kept rolling into whole money in Lynch's pockets, and it wasn't just the newspaper heads that were doing it, but some newsstands, and retail stores as well.

A three percent profit with no payoff and no risk, a gain that may seem like a three cent profit to many.

But after the principal is large enough, this too will turn into a sizable amount, a hundred, a thousand, just give the money to Lynch and get more back, it's that simple.

According to the various acts of the Baylor Commonwealth relating to wages and hours of work, as well as specific adjustments in the district acts, an average laborer in Sabine would earn about two to three hundred dollars a month.

If the nature of the work is more dangerous, the pay may be higher, but there are still relatively few such jobs, and that's pretty much it.

Ten dollars is already equal to a day's work of a laborer, but in Lynch's case there is no need to pay any labor, just give him the money and then he is able to get the money.

Some people really don't see it, but there are many more who do.

Large amounts of change began to converge and appear in an orderly fashion in Mr. Fox's laundry.

Just one day, a week later, as Lynch pushed his cart into the laundromat controlled by Mr. Fox, two guys in black tweed trench coats and dressed in formal attire, pony jackets, and white shirts appeared in front of him.

It also made him realize why Fox had first said he didn't look like he was in the federal government sector, because he was missing the instantly recognizable line of work and the arrogance on these people's faces that hated for everyone to know exactly who they were.

"Lynch?"

The man blocking the cart called out Lynch's name casually, as was customary, and then lifted the lapel of his own trench coat to reveal the leather wallet hanging from a pocket inside.

One half of the wallet was in a pocket on top of the inside of the trench coat, which kept it from falling out randomly, and the other half, which had the ID, hung out, as did the guys at the FBI, who would think it was cool to do so.

As for why it's such a stupid idea, it's probably because it has something to do with some of the hotter movies of the past two years.

It's true that actors look cool doing that, but ordinary people just look stupid when they bring that stuff into reality.

"I'm an investigator for the Federal Tax Administration, and I need your cooperation ...", completely non-negotiable, and the tone is not simply tough, but also long and prickly.

Lynch smiled and asked, "Do I have to hold my hands up?"

In fact, from the very beginning, he knew he would have to deal with these people, and not just this time, but all the time in the future, he just didn't think he would be targeted so soon.

The game is such that the golden light of wealth not only attracts ordinary people who are eager to bathe in the golden light and do a little good, but also some prickly "bad guys".

His comments sounded like he was taunting the two investigators, and generally people always associate raised hands with firearms.

The two investigators were not qualified to wear weapons, and were clearly not qualified to wear weapons, and in the system of the Baylor Federal Tax Service, investigators were the lowest level of employees, far below the "agents" and "special agents" above them, though many wondered why the Tax Service needed "Special Agent".

The guy behind Lynch grabbed his wrist with one hand and the back of his collar with the other, pinning him against the wall to give him some taste of power, and the pedestrians on the street instantly stepped aside a certain distance to avoid being caught in the middle of it.

Some left and some stayed to watch the action.

The investigator who had spoken to Lynch earlier dispersed the crowd after showing his credentials again, and he pushed Lynch's cart, and his companion took Lynch and his cart into the alleyway at the side of the road.

There was a bit of a lop-sided Lynch rubbing his cheekbones, his face had touched the wall when he was pressed against it, it hurt a bit and should have bruised a bit, but he wasn't too concerned.

One of the investigators was rummaging through his wheelbarrow, opening the box of the wheelbarrow and taking out some old clothes and throwing them on the floor, as if he were rummaging for something.

Another asked, "You've been close to Fox lately, you're working for him?" , and he pulled out a small notebook and a pen, seemingly ready to record something at any time.

The Federal Inland Revenue Department has long been on the lookout for people like Mr. Fox, but this "lookout" does not mean that people like Mr. Fox must be brought to justice; where there is light, there is always darkness, and this is not a characteristic of darkness, but a characteristic of light.

Without Lynch, perhaps this somewhat odd but socially desirable balance could be maintained for a while until a new local tax commissioner takes office, or the current commissioner needs some credit, then they will come after Mr. Fox.

But the problem is that now there's an extra Lynch, Mr. Fox, Lynch, and some of their strange moves are accelerating certain things out of control.

Catching a tax evasion offender and the amount of money involved is definitely a huge credit in the federal tax system, the kind that gets you a promotion.

But if Mr. Fox is let out of the mud ..., no one will praise the current local tax commissioner, only wonder if they have some kind of behind-the-scenes deal.

Add to that the fact that there have been some possible personnel changes within the Federal Revenue Service in Sabine, and some people just can't sit still.

As soon as these hints appeared, the local federal tax office sprang into action, and after checking out Lynch's identity and what he'd been doing lately, they figured out roughly what the problem was between him and Mr. Fox.

In the eyes of these experienced agents, Lynch was nothing more than a very lucky kid who had accidentally discovered a doorway that could make money, and if Lynch was used as a breakthrough, there was a good chance that he would cooperate in taking down Mr. Fox's gang outright.

But the first thing they had to do was to find out what Mr. Fox and Lynch were doing, and if it was what they thought it was, and that's where the "attack" came in.

Facing the menacing investigator Lynch always kept a smile on his face, a smile could draw people in and make them let their guard down, "Can I know your name?"

The investigator he was facing kindly laughed and suddenly stepped forward and punched Lynch in the stomach, which in a flash made his stomach flip up and an urge to retch.

"You don't need to know my name, you just need to answer the questions, understand?" , this investigator grabbed Lynch by the hair and made him bend over and look up at himself with his face tilted up, "I'm asking you again, what were your dealings with Fox and how did his money get into the bank ..."

The muscles in Lynch's face twitched and he slowly straightened up, a smile reappearing on his face as he gestured with his right hand in the shape of a pistol against his jaw and looked at the investigator and said, "Do you have a gun, give me a bullet to try ..."

His words left the investigator unresponsive for a short time, followed by mortification, but when he met Lynch's gaze, it was as if he had been doused with ice water on his head, completely extinguishing his fire.

There was an anticipation in the bright, penetrating eyes that matched the content of his tone and a hint of chilling insanity that made the investigator's heart contract violently.

He could clearly sense that the man was crazy!

He subconsciously gulped and averted his gaze, but then he turned back and stared hard at Lynch as he pushed him away and shouted in a seemingly menacing manner, "Answer the question!"

He actually had some trepidation already, it was just that he used it as a way to hide his timidity while keeping his distance from Lynch, not willing to let his true heart be exposed to an older kid who had just left school not more than a few years ago.

As if nothing had happened, Lynch tilted his head slightly, facing the not-so-wide sky above him within the alleyway, and revealed his most radiant smile.

"May I know your name, sir?"