Three days ago, the airtight office on the top floor of the IRS headquarters in Washington, shutters filtered cool tones of sunlight, and the electronic clock number jumped to 15:47.
Senior Commissioner Barvel Smith sat at the desk, his fingers unconsciously slashing at the desktop, with unprocessed documents piled up in front of him.
The ringtone of the cell phone suddenly rang, breaking the silence of the office. A strange number was displayed on the screen. Bavel frowned and answered the phone.
"Baville Smith, I'm Bruce Wayne." A lazy and confident voice came from the other end of the phone.
Bavel leaned forward slightly, with a hint of alertness in his tone: "Mr. Wayne, what's the matter with me?"
"I heard that you have failed to investigate the cross-border tax avoidance case of Gotham Ponlag Group for three years?" Bruce's voice was filled with a hint of joke. "I have a Christmas gift from Gotham here. I wonder if you are interested?"
Bavel's brows frowned even more: "What gift?"
"I have sent you some files through the encryption channel, you can take a look first." After Bruce finished speaking, a slight keyboard typing sound came from the other end of the phone.
A prompt for encrypted file transfer pops up on the screen of Baville's computer. She quickly enters the password, and after the file is opened, her pupils suddenly shrink - it is the private account of the board of directors of Wayne Group, which records in detail the dozens of Gotham elites.
Tax evasion.
"These documents... are enough to put half of the elites of the Wayne Group in prison." Bavel whispered, with a hint of disbelief in his tone.
"Yes," Bruce's voice was still relaxed, "useless borers should pay for their greedy and shameless behavior. I suggest you form a special audit team and I will ask Gotham City Hall to open a green channel for you."
"Are you serious? Do you know how much damage this will do to your group?"
"Of course. In fact, I have worked a lot to get this. My good president Fox is still lying in the hospital."
"…You did the assassination of the president of Wayne Group?!"
"Now is not the time to discuss this. I fully understand Fox's actions that acquiesce to their actions, but it does not mean that I will continue to tolerate it. Think about it carefully, ma'am, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Bavel's fingers repeatedly tapped the edge of the document, and the pen's metal cap made a slight "click".
She quickly weighed the pros and cons in her mind. Finally, she took a deep breath, picked up the pen and signed her name on the order.
"I will form a special inspection team as soon as possible," Bavel said, with a hint of fanaticism in his tone.
"Very good," Bruce's voice was filled with a smile, "Looking forward to working with you."
The security house at the temporary base of Gotham IRS, with gun guards patrolling outside the bulletproof glass. Bavel walked into the room and saw Bruce Wayne sitting in a chair, his shirt was half wet and his hair was messy.
Although it is not clear what happened between him and the Pale Knight, the crazy racing chase between the two shows that their relationship is not that simple.
"Mr. Wayne, thank you for your cooperation with our witness protection program," Bavel said, with a hint of formulaic courtesy in his tone.
Bruce raised his head and raised his lips slightly: "Are you thinking that since I am Batman, why do you still need protection? But I'm sorry, ma'am, you're wrong. I'm Bruce, not Batman."
Bavel curled his lips disdainfully and said, "Do you still say that you funded Batman? Do you think I am a third-rate detective?"
With a snap, she threw a piece of identity information in front of Bruce and said, "IRS has long known your true identity, Batman. It's no secret."
Bruce did not answer, but took out a USB flash drive from his pocket and inserted it into the computer on the desk. A surveillance video was immediately played on the screen - the scene of Batman fighting a group of criminals at Gotham Pier, and at the same time, Bruce
Wayne is giving a speech at a charity dinner on the top floor of the Wayne Building.
"Simple means, this absenteeism proves that I can do three pieces in a minute." Bavel still didn't believe it at all.
"I'm asking you to have a facial comparison," Bruce said after snorting coldly, "then you will understand that although the two of us are very similar, they are not the same person."
Bavel slowly frowned, but still picked up the USB flash drive and threw it to the subordinate behind her. Looking at Bruce's fearless attitude, she had changed her mind a little.
After all, if the Wayne Group can find a tax team that is perfectly able to deal with the IRS, then he has the means to hide the real connection between Bruce and Batman. It is one person or two, and he has the final say.
As Bruce said, the facial analysis results of Bruce and Batman were very similar, but the difference in bone details shows that they are not the same person, but have age gaps.
"Will I hear a story about a brother joining forces to deceive the whole world?" said Bavel.
"That won't be, because there's no time to tell stories now, we're going to talk about the Wayne Group."
A Wayne Group architecture picture spread out on the table in the safe house, and Bruce's finger gently stroked the picture: "The Wayne Group tax team helped twelve shell companies to carry out reverse mergers and acquisitions last year, and all operations were
It was completely legal and even issued a tax-free invoice to the homeless shelter."
Bavel sneered: "The operation is impeccable, do you want me to applaud you?"
Bruce smiled and clicked an encrypted email: "But what if the board of directors has privately transferred the public welfare fund for African medical projects? There are also Gotham Natural Disaster Fund, East Coast Children's Security Fund, Canadian Forestry Nature Maintenance Fund..."
Bavel's eyes fell on the content of the email and his brow frowned slightly: "Do you think we haven't tried to track it down? I don't know how much you've paid them, but they did do it almost perfectly."
"That's why they have to go to prison." Bruce's voice was filled with a hint of coldness. "The times are moving forward, and I need a clean Wayne group to control Gotham, which is collapsing from the top."
"Are you going to make room for the Carter Group?" Bavel narrowed his eyes and said, "Kidnapping, gambling, tax checks are all conspiracies that you completely control the Gotham family's dominance?"
"If you have to make me think so badly, I don't want to explain it too much," Bruce shrugged, "but the fact is that it's better for me to come alone to join forces to govern Gotham."
Bavel looked into Bruce's eyes. She didn't know how many ambitions she saw there. But she knew that Bruce was right, and it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
No matter what can be found, as long as she dares to attack Wayne Group, there will be no idiots who dare to challenge the IRS in the future. She will become the highest-achieving IRS commissioner in the United States.
"What are you going to do?" Bavel said in his eyes, "You must provide me with a flaw first, otherwise I will not do it easily."
"A small question." Bruce smiled and said, "I will let you see my sincerity."
In the temporary office, Baville looked at the architectural diagram provided by Bruce. It was a day after day, but Baville still didn't think of any angle to start with the Wayne Group.
It was simply impeccable, she thought. If they acted rashly without a single blow, the revenge they would encounter was extremely terrible.
The cell phone ringing rang again. He answered the phone and heard the anxious voice of his subordinates: "Boss, the Federal Reserve system has been invaded and someone has hacked into the backstage!"
Bavel's heart sank suddenly: "Who did it?"
"It's not clear yet, but the system shows that the intruder used the Wayne Group's encryption protocol."
Bavel hung up the phone and quickly dialed Bruce's number: "You hacked into the Fed system?!!"
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Bruce's calm voice came from the other end of the phone: "Yes, how about this flaw?"
"How is it? I asked you to sell a flaw, not to let you poke a hole in the sky!" Bavel's hand tightly held his phone, his knuckles turned white, "Do you know if this crime is confirmed, you will be in jail
Wait until the next Big Bang?!"
"Risk is proportional to benefits, isn't it?" Bruce's voice had a smile, "To confirm my crime, not only you, but the FBI will do its best. They are the best helpers,
The law enforcement powers of you two have combined are enough to capture the entire Gotham."
Bavel took a deep breath and finally calmed down: "Okay, you'd better be prepared. Before you catch you, we'll knock on the door of every senior Wayne Group."
"God bless them, Amen."
In a bar in Lower Town, Gotham, an old bartender was wiping a whiskey cup with the "Iceberg Club" logo printed on it. The TV was broadcasting the scene of Councillor Carter being escorted into a police car, and guests in the bar were talking.
"That bastard Carter deducted our work-related injury compensation last year! This bastard deserves it!" A construction worker smashed his wine glass and said angrily.
"I saw his wife transporting luxury goods with an ambulance, and his factory killed a single mother in a safety accident two days ago. This is his retribution!" A female nurse sneered, with a tone in her tone.
Disdain.
Everyone was gloating about Carter's imprisonment and the atmosphere was warm.
At this moment, the bar door was pushed open and Sheriff Gordon walked in and said, "So you are all here."
"Director, you're here just right. I heard that Carter was caught by Old Sid and the others. Is it true?"
"Yes, he almost ran away, but he was caught in the end. You didn't see how embarrassed he was when he fell in the rain..."
Gordon gesturing and said. Everyone in the bar listened with relish. The female nurse just now said, "I thought they were so capable, but they were chased like a stray dog, and they were not as good as a betrayal dog.
How strong are the thieves on Wales Street?"
"Don't mention it, he is not as flexible as those three hands. If the catwoman was there at that time, the agent would not be able to catch up with her even if he had two legs."
"Hahaha, who said no?"
Everyone was discussing Carter's affairs enthusiastically. Gordon drank a few more drinks and muttered on the bar: "You don't know yet. The chemical factory in District X15 filled the carcinogenic waste into the foundation of the slum, which caused a lot of
Everyone has cancer…”
"I seem to have heard of it. Is it the one next to the church of San Marino? I have a friend's mother checked it out..."
"Yes, yes, I heard from a friend of mine who is a nurse..."
Guests in the bar whispered about the evil deeds of the chemical factory. Gordon took the opportunity to guide the topic and directed everyone's attention to the pharmaceutical giant Ponlag.
"The owner of the chemical factory is Ponlag, a giant of the pharmaceutical complex. He is one of the richest people in Gotham. I heard that the cash flow is more than the Wayne Group..."
"Ponlag? That medical tycoon? Wasn't he kidnapped too?" someone asked.
"Yes, this is also his retribution. Do you think he will be like Carter in the end..."
"Definitely. By the way, I have to go to Pheles Casino and buy him a lot. He will definitely have to be sentenced to 20 years!"
"It's too little, I'll say it's probably more than 35 years..."
"I think we'll contact our friends who live near the Church of San Marino to find cancer patients and ask them to stand up and identify Ponlag together. This will definitely make him sit in prison!"
"Yes, let him get out of prison like Carter!"
In the printing factory, the machines roared, and the Gotham Daily had been printed three times, and the Carter Group's old foundation was completely stripped of it.
Aside from the exterior wall of the Carter Group Building, which had been blocked, were street boys in groups of three or three. They used spray paint to outline the huge Carter portrait on the wall. They had funny faces and ugly appearances. There was also a pair of handcuffs next to them, reminding people at all times.
The fate of this damn vampire.
Ruth stood on the top of the building not far away, with a sneer on the corner of her mouth. The shackles of thought that the elites used oppression and class isolation to bring to the lower class have already created a rift with the ugly Carter's imprisonment.
It won't take long to release the most terrifying beast in the world from the cage, and the self-sturdy high walls built by the glamorous upper class people were just sand castles that collapsed in front of them.