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After hearing it, Atley was indeed tempted at first.

As an accountant, calculating savings was his specialty, and if the tax reduction policy was for life, he could indeed save a substantial amount of money each month.

But the thought of turning over the ledger and his boss Lynch's furious reaction sent a shiver down his spine in an instant.

In the end, he made his decision, gritting his teeth and refusing, "Sorry, I can't do this. It would cost me my job!"

David's face darkened as he said, "Let me tell you the truth. We can investigate your background thoroughly, and your boss is no different. We only need the ledger as a supplementary aid. I hope you can cooperate; it's better for everyone!"

Atley still remained unmoved.

"If you're unwilling to cooperate, then you'll have to come with us," David said.

As David stood up, Nisen did the same, both staring at him with an unfriendly gaze.

Seeing this, Atley got anxious and asked defensively, "What do you mean? I've already agreed to pay taxes. What are you trying to do?"

"According to the tax evasion law, the IRS has the right to arrest and try any tax evader!"

Atley continued to argue: "But I've already agreed to pay taxes. What tax am I evading?"

"The tax evasion bill has been in effect for over a month. As an accountant who's aware of the bill, not coming to the IRS to declare within this month—how is that not tax evasion?"

According to the tax evasion bill, all criminals must proactively report to the IRS once the bill is passed in Congress.

If one doesn't report proactively, they can be treated as a tax evader!

Of course, rules are rules, and most criminals aren't well-educated and aren't likely to pay attention to Congress or bills.

As for that, the IRS wouldn't scrutinize too hard, after all, it's just about the money. As long as you agree to pay taxes after they knock on your door, everything else can be discussed.

But now, since Atley was unwilling to cooperate, naturally, David wouldn't be polite either.

First, scare him with a charge of tax evasion. If that didn't work, taking him into custody was always an option.

After all, David wasn't too concerned about the $60,000 in taxes anymore.

"I've already agreed to pay taxes, you... you can't just slap me with a tax evasion charge like that!"

Atley panicked.

Why is everyone afraid of IRS inspectors?

It's because these people have too much power. They can freeze individuals' accounts at will and have the same law enforcement and arrest powers as the FBI.

If the other party stubbornly insisted that he hadn't reported for tax payment proactively after the bill was introduced, he really wouldn't have any defense.

"Let's go!"

Nisen didn't care about the consequences and came up to drive Atley out.

Seeing that things were getting serious, Atley couldn't take it anymore and said with a tone of submission, "If I give you the ledger, how am I supposed to explain it to my boss?"

The IRS is known for its harsh penalties against tax evaders, and he really didn't want to be saddled with that charge.

"With your abilities, would changing employers really starve you to death?"

"..."

Atley was somewhat speechless.

But no matter what, being unemployed was still better than being charged with tax evasion and sent to jail. He replied resignedly, "Alright, I'll give you the ledger. You won't trouble me anymore, right?"

"Of course, I have no personal vendetta against you!"

Seeing David's shameless attitude, Atley was extremely frustrated but didn't waste any more words, turning and walking into one of the rooms.

About 20 minutes later.

He walked out, holding a stack of freshly printed documents in his hand, and handed them to David, "Here's what you asked for!"

David took them and, after ensuring there were no issues, extended his hand, "Thank you for your cooperation!"

Though extremely reluctant, Atley still mustered the restraint to shake hands with David before sending him off with a murderous glare.

"Where to now?"

Once in the car, Nisen asked while buckling his seatbelt.

"Chinatown!"

"OK!"

...

Chinatown, as the largest overseas Chinese community, essentially exists in every major city in America.

The Chinatown in Las Vegas is located here on Spring Mountain Avenue.

It had been 40 minutes by the time they arrived.

After parking the car, the two walked in.

The street was lined with bright signs and colorful lanterns. Some ancient buildings still maintained the traditional architectural style of China, each brick and tile seemingly carrying a lengthy history.

The tempting scent of delicious food wafted from the Chinese restaurants, steamed buns, dumplings, stir-fries, simmered soups—various Chinese culinary flavors mixed together, transporting one instantly to China thousands of miles away.

At street corners, people conversed in various dialects, including Cantonese, Mandarin, Fujianese, Teochew, and others. The interweaving of these dialects created a unique linguistic tapestry for Chinatown.

This also gave David, who had been reborn, a sense of home!

"What's the matter, first time here?"

Noticing David looking around, lost in thought, Nisen couldn't help but ask.

"Not really, let's go!"

Gathering his thoughts, David walked forward.

Meanwhile, in the central area of Chinatown, a shop named 'Luoyang Tea House'.

"Mr. Li, we have done our investigation, and we're clear about your business. So let's keep it short. According to the provisions of the 'Black Tax Law,' pay the owed taxes to the National Tax Bureau, and we'll turn around and leave without disturbing you any further!"

Inside the tea room, an old man with a goat beard was leisurely sipping tea.

Opposite him, a man and a woman stared intently at him, and the man had just spoken those words.

"Is that so? Then tell me, what business am I in?"

The old man with the goat beard remained calm and unhurried, sipping his tea slowly.

"Hmph, it's just smuggling antiques, as if you could hide it from the eyes of the National Tax Bureau," the man snorted coldly.

The old man with the goat beard shook his head and replied, "Inspectors, I am merely running a tea house here, not some antique smuggling racketeer. I believe you have the wrong person!"

Hearing this, the man and the woman's faces darkened as they exchanged a glance.

That's right, they indeed knew the old man's true identity.

But they only knew his identity, and as for which antiques had been smuggled and to whom they were sold, these details were not clear to them.

Meaning, they possessed no substantial evidence.

And why would they dare to confront someone without solid proof?

With the pressure of the 'Black Tax Law' and continuous assessment periods driving the nation's inspectors, they didn't have time to gather evidence for each case individually.

They generally first made an appearance, then leveraged the clout of the National Tax Bureau to intimidate and pressure, with the actual amount recouped being largely left to fate.