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Daniel: "..."
A year apart, and the first thing you say is that I'm not doing so well.
Thanks a lot.
"You know each other?" Arthur's gaze turned strange, and his thoughts began drifting in an unpleasant direction.
What if Daniel and Morin were working together?
What if this was a setup?
"Hmph. We knew each other before," Daniel said stiffly.
He had wanted to badmouth Morin, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.
In every sense, Morin had been more than generous.
Especially at the end-when he had enlightened him, pulled him back on track, and indirectly led him to the Eye of Providence's invitation.
No matter how he looked at it, Daniel owed him.
"So what are you doing here?" Daniel suddenly reacted.
"And when did you become an IRS agent?"
"It's been a year," Morin replied lazily. "Is getting a license and a job that hard?"
"Alright. We can talk later," Morin continued. "You should probably go with this FBI agent first... Agent Fuller, right?"
Fuller hesitated for a moment.
"Actually... we could wait a bit longer."
"...Don't worry," Morin said, instantly understanding. The corner of his mouth twitched.
"Just do your job impartially. He and I only worked together briefly. We've parted ways."
"Do what you need to do."
Fuller had been nervous.
Morin and Daniel clearly knew each other, and they were on speaking terms.
He was afraid Morin might come back later to settle accounts.
"Alright!"
With Morin's assurance, Fuller finally relaxed.
As for whether Morin was being sarcastic-
FBI operations were recorded.
This statement was now on camera.
Even if Morin wanted to cause trouble later, Fuller wasn't worried.
Speaking of which, standard FBI cameras were practically magical tools.
They could record anything necessary.
And when needed, they could also conveniently "malfunction" or "run out of battery."
After Fuller took Daniel and the other three away, Morin stood up as well.
Even if Fuller hadn't come with the classic FBI knock-and-talk, Morin had planned to leave anyway.
He had found his target.
He had explained the situation.
He had shown his investigation permit and IRS credentials.
His mission was essentially complete.
Asking Arthur to hand over all financial statements on the spot was impossible.
This visit was an ultimatum.
Three days.
Prepare everything.
After that, Morin would inspect the books personally.
Normally, an IRS agent would stay close and follow up in real time.
But Morin was alone.
He didn't have the time.
And it wouldn't help anyway.
The books would definitely be tampered with.
That was exactly what Morin wanted.
The message was simple.
You have three days to fake whatever you want.
After three days, I want to see the documents.
Whether they were fake or not didn't matter.
Morin would see through them anyway.
With the system's skills, he understood tax law better than the people who wrote it.
All the loopholes.
All the tricks.
That was when the most critical part of his first-stage plan would begin.
Under Arthur's baffled gaze, Morin left.
Arthur was completely confused.
He... just left?
He came knocking with full documentation, overwhelming momentum, like a long-planned ambush.
And then he just walked away?
He's coming back in three days?
Was this a trap?
Was he really giving him time and space to cook the books?
Arthur couldn't make sense of it.
No matter how he thought about it, Morin's reasoning was impossible to grasp.
In the end, Arthur contacted his ace legal team, told them to prepare for a full IRS confrontation, and ordered the tax department to immediately begin "statistical compilation."
Morin didn't care what Arthur thought.
He drove straight to Bradley's office.
Whatever schemes Arthur prepared didn't matter.
Morin would counter each one and wait for the result.
Daniel and the others had already been taken away.
If Morin remembered correctly, Rhodes and Alma would soon come to Bradley after their interrogation failed and ask the "magic debunker" for help.
"Why are you back?" Bradley found Morin especially irritating today.
He had never liked him much over the past year, but today was worse.
Probably because he had misunderstood Morin and Catrina again-and now felt embarrassed and annoyed.
Morin was used to it.
Old men were like that.
"I came back to see if you'd cooled off," Morin shot back.
Understanding, my ass.
Better to annoy him.
"Cooled off?" Bradley glanced at the air conditioner, picked up the remote, and lowered it another two degrees.
"Heh. You cold at this temperature? Weak kidneys?"
"You're overthinking it," Morin sneered.
"Even ten times a night wouldn't tire me out."
"Bullshit!" Bradley scoffed.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing. Just hanging out," Morin said casually, dropping onto the sofa.
With a flick of his wrist, a deck of cards appeared, and he began shuffling.
He looked around.
"Where's Catrina?"
"I told her to take the car in for repairs," Bradley replied.
"Huh?" Morin froze.
"Are you sure?"
"...What's wrong?" Bradley asked.
"Were you treating what I said as a joke?" Morin rubbed his forehead.
"She rear-ended a car right after she got her license."
...
Meanwhile, at the Las Vegas police station.
Dylan and Alma were preparing to interrogate Daniel and the others.
But-
Dylan was capable.
And he was also an actor.
After all, he was the mastermind behind everything.
But Alma?
Fuller?
The rest?
"Dylan," Fuller stopped him before he entered Merritt's interrogation room.
"According to all records, idealism has never been proven correct."
"...So?" Dylan frowned.
"That means it isn't science," Fuller said seriously.
"It's subjective. Entertainment. You know..."
"...Okay," Dylan said, trying to walk in.
"Anyway!" Fuller grew agitated and stopped him again.
"No matter what he says, don't believe it!"
"Alright."
Dylan pushed past him and opened the door.
"I must sincerely apologize to Agent Fuller," Merritt spoke immediately.
"I didn't mean to. I definitely didn't intentionally say the words 'Special Tuesday.'"
"Special Tuesday?" Dylan glanced at the one-way mirror.
Only his own reflection stared back.
This kind of glass allowed observation from the outside only.
Yet earlier, when Dylan had been outside, Merritt had been looking straight at him.
Their eyes had met.
Dylan knew why.
But he was a veteran actor.
Right now, he was perfectly playing the role of a reluctant FBI agent.
Definitely not someone impersonating an Eye of Providence messenger.
"Yeah," Dylan said calmly.
"That's just a little thing between Agent Fuller and his wife."
"Let's ignore that."
"What I'm curious about," Merritt continued, "is whether all FBI agents have a tradition of wearing dresses."
"..."
Dylan glanced sideways.
It felt like his gaze pierced the mirror, seeing Fuller outside with his face in his hands.
Well played.
Didn't expect a bald man like you to have that hobby.
The interrogation led nowhere.
Dylan was acting.
Alma was curious but incapable.
The rest were even worse.
If anything, they were more likely to be tricked.
In the end, due to regulations-and pressure from Arthur's legal team-they had to release Daniel and the others.
Although Merritt had exposed Fuller's dress hobby, Dylan hadn't mentioned it.
So Fuller quickly returned to work mode.
What was wrong with a man having quirks?
Thinking that, Fuller calmed down.
"That audience member was hypnotized the entire time," Fuller reported excitedly.
"Nearly half the audience was hypnotized too."
"I reviewed the attendance list."
"I found someone important."
"He must have filmed everything."
"Who?" Dylan asked.
"Bradley," Fuller said confidently.
He was already anticipating praise.
But-
"...," Dylan stayed silent for a long time.
Then shrugged.
"Who?"
Of course, Dylan knew.
Bradley was one of his key targets.
But as an actor, he couldn't show it.
"Bradley," Fuller repeated impatiently.
"A magic debunker."
"He profits by exposing magic tricks on TV and selling DVDs."
"He's the most famous magic debunker in the industry."
"In that case," Dylan said, "what are we waiting for?"
"Call him."
"I want to see him."
"I already did!" Fuller said quickly.
"I booked you an hour with him."
"Booked?" Dylan snorted.
"If he doesn't tell me everything today, I'll have him sit in an interrogation room in their place."