Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

Penguin Man sat in his private office, cradling a freshly poured glass of whiskey in his hand, the ice cubes gently clinking against the amber liquid. His gaze fell upon the mobile phone on the desk, the screen displaying Shiller's name. After a moment's hesitation, he pressed the call button.

The phone rang several times before Shiller's voice came through from the other end, maintaining his usual composure, "What's the matter? What has prompted you to call me at this hour?"

Penguin Man took a sip of whiskey, his tone probing slightly, "It seems the information I provided you about Carter has come in handy. The fellow talks too much and lacks caution, not a good choice for the party. It's better for him to exit the stage sooner rather than later."

"However... my people say you are using the mayor's authority to investigate Baville, that's not a wise choice."

Shiller chuckled softly, his voice low and calm, "Oswald, since when did you start worrying about my choices? Baville is just a small fish, not worth your concern."

"A small fish?" Penguin Man raised an eyebrow, his tone clearly disapproving, "Bawell Smith is not a small fish by any means. She is the ace of the IRS. The assets of the wealthy that have fallen into her hands could fill the Pacific Ocean. Since you've decided to use her, there's absolutely no need for overkill."

Shiller's voice remained unperturbed, "I seem to recall mentioning that I never count on anyone's kindness, but rather on making them have no other choice."

Penguin Man set down his glass, his fingers lightly tapping the table's surface, "At least don't provoke her intentionally. The IRS has much more power than you imagine; they can even conduct what's essentially legal torture in the 21st century. Pissing them off is bad news for everyone."

Shiller paused for a moment, then said slowly, "Oswald, you're too nervous. Baville's weaknesses are as numerous as her capabilities."

Penguin Man frowned, his tone laced with wariness, "What do you mean by that? Are you planning to make a move against her?"

Shiller's voice held a hint of humor, "Make a move? No, I wouldn't be so crude to a lady who diligently does her duty. It's merely about precautions."

Penguin Man huffed, "Shiller, don't be too confident. Baville is not one to be easily intimidated. Her background is much more complicated than you think."

Shiller's tone remained relaxed, "Complicated? Perhaps. But at least, when her father set foot on American soil with the entire family twenty years ago, she was just a naive little girl."

Penguin Man's fingers suddenly halted on the desktop, a flash of surprise in his eyes, "What have you discovered?"

Shiller's voice deepened slightly, "In 1989, when Baville's father immigrated to America from Mexico City, the assets he declared were... somewhat 'inaccurate'. What do you think would happen to Baville's career if this information were made public?"

Penguin Man fell silent for a moment, then spoke slowly, "Shiller, I don't mean to meddle with your decisions, but I just want to remind you that if Baville finds out you're investigating her family, she won't let you off easily."

Shiller chuckled, "Let her come. After all, spectating can never be as interesting as being part of the game."

Penguin Man shook his head, his tone carrying a tinge of helplessness, "The National Revenue Bureau isn't going to play games with you; the closest game they have is probably 'Guess Who's Going to the Guillotine Today'."

Shiller's voice carried a trace of amusement, "If they're not willing to play games with me, what are they broadcasting on TV right now? You understand them, yet you don't fully grasp them."

"The Internal Revenue Service even has its own set of investigative and interrogation methods, which means they wouldn't mind using any means to deter those who oppose them, be it live broadcasts or games. Why not use entrapment and legal torture when they already do?"

"Gotham has always been a tax wasteland, not because the National Revenue Bureau lacks the ability to handle it. In their eyes, elite citizens are no different from vegetables in the field—it's harvest season now."

Penguin Man sighed, his tone carrying a hint of caution, "I hope you know what you're doing. If things spiral out of control, don't blame me for not warning you."

Shiller's voice remained even, "Don't worry, Oswald. The main event hasn't even started yet."

"What are you planning to do?"

"Let go of Carter; let's have a genuinely thrilling battle royale."

Penguin Man involuntarily glanced at the television screen.

The lights in the TV studio were blindingly bright, with Two-Face Harvey Dent seated in the guest area, the scarred half of his face gruesomely stark under the strong illumination.

His unscarred half remained as handsome and composed as ever, as if he were a seasoned prosecutor. The host, Penny White, sat opposite him, passing the microphone with a professional smile.

"Mr. Dante, welcome to our show," Penny said, her tone rational and professional, "Today we'll be discussing the tax issues of Carter Group. As the former District Attorney of Gotham, you must be very familiar with such cases. Could you analyze for us the potential consequences Carter might face?"

Harvey nodded slightly, his voice deep and powerful, "Thank you, Penny. The tax issues of Carter Group are indeed very complex, but based on the information currently made public, their tactics for tax evasion aren't exactly innovative—in fact, they could be considered quite clichéd."

Penny raised her eyebrows slightly, her tone laced with a hint of curiosity: "Cliché? Could you elaborate on that?"

Harvey picked up a document from the table, flipped it open, and pointed to several lines of data: "Carter's main method of tax evasion is through the transfer of funds via offshore shell companies. He diverted hundreds of millions of dollars in income to the shell companies in the British Virgin Islands and Cayman Islands, then used these companies' names to make deductions with bogus 'consulting fees' and 'charitable donations.' This tactic has been used by countless wealthy individuals over the past few decades, but the IRS is well aware of it."

Penny nodded thoughtfully and continued to ask: "Then, what do you think the IRS will do to investigate these methods?"

The corners of Harvey's mouth curled up slightly, revealing a cold smirk: "The IRS's investigative methods are highly systematic. First, they will track Carter's fund transfers, especially those frequent transactions in offshore accounts. Next, they will demand detailed financial records from these offshore companies. If these companies refuse to cooperate, the IRS can pressure local governments through international tax cooperation mechanisms, or even directly freeze those accounts."

Penny nodded thoughtfully: "It sounds like Carter's methods aren't very clever. So, what legal consequences do you think he will ultimately face?"

Harvey closed the document, his hands crossed on the table, his tone serious: "According to federal tax law, the prison sentence for intentional tax evasion typically ranges from 3 to 5 years. However, if the amount of tax evasion exceeds 10 million dollars, the sentence can be significantly increased. Carter is involved with hundreds of millions of dollars, plus he used falsified documents and offshore shell companies, which will be considered aggravating circumstances."

A look of surprise flashed in Penny's eyes: "Then, how many years do you think Carter might be sentenced to?"

Harvey's gaze fixed on the camera, his tone resolute: "At least ten years. And that's not including fines and forfeiture of assets. The IRS may require him to pay back several times the taxes owed and seize his assets overseas."

Penny sighed lightly, her tone touched with a hint of emotion: "Ten years... That's a heavy blow to anyone. Do you think there's any chance Carter could negotiate a plea deal to reduce his sentence?"

Harvey shook his head: "The likelihood of a plea deal is very low. Carter's actions are not merely tax evasion; he's also involved in forgery and obstruction of justice. The IRS will not let him off easily, especially in such a high-profile case."

Penny nodded, then turned to the audience: "Dear viewers, hearing this, you may feel that Carter's situation is quite dire. But Harvey, I have a more in-depth question—what impact do you think Carter's case will have on other wealthy individuals?"

A cold glint flashed in Harvey's eyes: "Carter's case will undoubtedly serve as a warning. The IRS has been intensifying tax audits on high-net-worth individuals in recent years, especially those who use offshore companies for tax evasion. Carter's arrest will make other wealthy individuals realize that the risks of tax evasion far outweigh the benefits."

Penny gave a faint smile, her tone carrying a touch of teasing: "So, do you think more wealthy individuals will take the initiative to pay back taxes to reduce their potential sentences?"

The corners of Harvey's mouth curled up slightly: "If they're smart enough, they will. However, unfortunately, greed often makes people lose their sanity."

Penny nodded, then turned to the camera: "Ladies and gentlemen, today's discussion has been quite fascinating. Thank you, Harvey Dent, for your professional analysis. I trust you all have your own thoughts on the prison sentences for the wealthy—let's take a short break."

Harvey stood up, shook hands with Penny, then turned and left the studio. His retreating figure was tall. But if one saw the expression on his face as he walked offstage, you could see a hint of amusement on the usual half of his face.

Meanwhile, Carter sat in the corner of a prison cell, staring at the TV screen on the wall. His face was pale, and fine beads of sweat lined his forehead. Harvey's analysis stabbed into his heart like a sharp blade.

"Ten years..." Carter murmured in a low voice, a trace of despair in his tone. He couldn't go to jail! Absolutely not!

In the temporary office, IRS agents were busy sorting through documents. Bawell Smith stood aside, her gaze steely. She glanced at the TV screen, and the corners of her mouth curled up.

"Ten years? If he doesn't rot in jail, then my 20 years of service are wasted!"

She turned and continued to immerse herself in the documents, waiting for the next defendant to appear.

A series of rapid footsteps approached from the distance in the corridor. A strong black agent rushed in, causing such a commotion that Bawell couldn't help but frown.

"What's the matter? Why all the panic?"

"Carter's gone!"

"What?!"

"Carter escaped, I mean, he escaped from the kidnappers!"

Not only Bawell and her special squad were shocked, but also countless people who had just listened to the analysis and placed bets were stunned.

"What! Carter's on the run? If we can't catch him, doesn't that mean he won't have to serve a day in jail?! What about my money?!"

"Damn it! What the hell is Joker doing? How could he let him escape???"

"I know where Carter's company is located, if he wants to destroy evidence, he'll definitely go there first, hurry, hurry, hurry! Follow me!!"