Daily Spy Life in the Detective Conan World

Chapter 41 The IRS's Overstepping Boundaries
Master bedroom in room 1808.

The cold tile floor sent chills down Agave's spine.

When exactly did this happen, and who attacked him?
His mind raced with thoughts, but the only part of his body he could use was his eyeballs; his entire body felt like it was filled with lead, and he couldn't move an inch.

How can this be.

As a professional assassin working for the distillery, he was rigorously trained.

Anti-toxicity training is the most basic training. He has ingested many poisons, and his body has long since developed a certain level of resistance to them. He shouldn't have been knocked down for no reason.

The biting chill was even more intense than the coldness emanating from the tiles on his back. He stared wide-eyed toward the door, cold sweat gradually forming on his forehead.

Slowly twist the handle.

For the first time, Tequila felt that opening the door was so long and painful; he felt both helpless and curious.

Who the hell is it?

I wish I hadn't gone back to this temporary place.

As he was lost in thought, the door was pushed open completely, and a tall, slender figure walked in.

Because of the angle at which it landed, Tequila could only see up to the other person's chest. She tried to look up, but her body didn't react at all. Even when she squeezed her pupils into the corners of her eyes, she still couldn't see the face.

"Ugh, uh ...

This drug is very similar to an anesthetic. Once inhaled, not only the body but even the tongue becomes immobile, and the groaning sounds are the result of Agave's long-term efforts.

Are you asking who I am?

The man stopped in front of him, his shiny black leather shoes only centimeters from his eyes, as if he were about to kick him in the eye socket at any moment.

Sobbing and whimpering resumed, followed by frantic eye movements.

The movement of those eyes, clearly moving up and down, was it a nod?

"Since you've asked so sincerely, I'll mercifully tell you that I'm actually Jackie Chan, an IRS tax investigator from the United States!"

Xia Chuan squatted down, casually making things up, and looked at the agave with his white teeth in his eyes. "According to my investigation, none of the drugs exported to the United States through your hands have any tax records. This has seriously damaged the economic prosperity of our United States and affected the continuous rise of the country's GDP. Although our United States is a free country, freedom belongs only to taxpayers."

"Now I'm giving you two choices: one is to pay all the fines for tax evasion and become a taxpayer, and the other is to go to federal prison and pick up soap. You choose one."

The bedroom fell silent.

Natsukawa waited quietly for Agave's reply.

One minute later.

"Fine, so you're giving me attitude, huh!"

Then, the agave was lifted up.

Like a lamb, limp and defenseless.

Like pigs, they grunted and whimpered as they were slaughtered.

Now, let alone Natsukawa, even Genta or Mitsuhiko could easily handle Tequila.

The tequila, whose name was being mentioned, was incredibly aggrieved, its eyes blazing with anger.

Let me answer that. At least give me the antidote first.

You can't understand my whining anyway!
He, a top assassin from the distillery, was actually defeated by this guy.

And that IRS guy, he's outrageous. Even FBI agent Shuichi Akai couldn't catch him, but he actually fell for a tax investigator.

Also, this is Japan! Did the Japanese government approve your cross-border arrest of tax evaders?
After half an hour.

It was still Frank's interrogation room.

There was also a strong smell of urine in the room, indicating that Frank's cleaning was very sloppy.

At least spray some air freshener.

He threw the tequila on the chair, put on all the handcuffs and leg irons, and also put a neck cuff around each of their necks.

The neck brace is connected to the roof via a two-meter-long iron cable at the back.

As a member of the distillery, Xia Chuan felt that he couldn't just be handcuffed and shackled; he had to be given the respect he deserved.

Soon, Frank brought over a glass of clear liquid.

This is neither Nongfu Spring nor Lao Bai Gan, but an antidote.

Pinch Tequila's mouth shut, and after downing a cup of the antidote, and waiting a few more minutes, Tequila finally regained some control over her limbs.

The body, which was originally weak and limp, returned to a normal state with the support of the lumbar spine.

Even sitting down, he was able to hold his own against Frank.

"hateful!"

Frank gritted his teeth and walked out of the interrogation room. He suspected that Tequila was deliberately trying to disgust him by suddenly puffing out her chest and raising her head in front of him.

"Alright, tell me about your organization now, but don't force me to take action."

Xia Chuan pulled up a chair and puffed away in front of Tequila. Every puff landed squarely in Tequila's face, exuding a strong thuggish air. Tequila: "."

Tequila sat upright, his silence now at a profound level. As a top-tier assassin trained in interrogation, he was in no way intimidated by Xia Chuan.

Come on, I'm not afraid.

Even after the poison in his mouth was removed and a transparent, unbreakable tongue cover was placed over his tongue, he was still confident that he could endure the most terrifying torture.

Xia Chuan glanced at the one-way glass with a cold smile. Soon, the interrogation room door opened, and Frank walked into the room carrying a bag.

Clang! The bag was placed on the ground, and the sound of glass colliding rang out.

After finishing, Frank spat viciously before leaving.

"Sorry, this guy holds a grudge. He can't stand people who are the same height as him even when they're sitting down."

As he spoke, a bottle of Mexican tequila was brought out and waved in front of the tequila.

"Hmph! You think you can get me drunk and get me to reveal anything about the organization? That's impossible. I've undergone rigorous training, and no matter how strong the alcohol is, even if I'm drunk, I won't talk. Forget about it."

Xia Chuan admired Tequila's composure and his loyalty to the distillery.

Before developing APTX4869, did Karasuma Renya develop some kind of brainwashing drug?

"Do you even know who you're serving? Why are you so devoted to them?" Xia Chuan said as he opened a bottle of tequila, then pinched the tequila's lips and poured it down his throat.

gurgling swallowing sounds
A bottle of tequila was quickly emptied.

"Heh, heh, hehe, it's useless, it's useless."

Tequila's mouth became somewhat clumsy, a little liquor dripped from his nostrils, and his eyes were like those of a venomous snake, as if he wanted to etch Xia Chuan's appearance into his heart.

However, it was of no use.

Even if Natsukawa doesn't let him go, it's just a facade. What difference does it make if he knows? At most, it will just mean one more person dies in Beika Town.

"You're from the FBI, right? One of Shuichi Akai's men, isn't that right?" Tequila shifted her gaze to the one-way mirror and roared, "You bastard! Heh, your girlfriend is dying, she's about to die, you'll hear the news of her death soon."

Judging from Tequila's behavior, she probably suspects that Shuichi Akai is watching him from the observation room.

Xia Chuan gave an "oh" without changing his expression, turned Tequila's cheek, pinched his mouth, and picked up another bottle of the same name.

"If Akemi Miyano is dead, she's dead. Shuichi Akai doesn't care."

Despite saying that, Xia Chuan still silently remembered it.

According to Tequila, a billion-yen heist is probably about to happen. Tequila knows that the plan is probably already in the preparation stage.

Honestly, they've already sent Gin a batch of gold bars, yet they're still so greedy.

But thinking about it, it makes sense. The distillery is researching immortality, so even a gold nugget worth a billion dollars probably wouldn't last long.

Sulli should be in Tokyo right now, but I don't know exactly where.

Xia Chuan leaned close to Tequila's ear and said, "Gin, Rum, Vermouth, the boss, or any other organization members—tell me anything."

After downing two bottles of tequila, even this tall man was starting to feel the effects.

Tequila is just his pseudonym; it doesn't mean he can drink that kind of liquor.

Furthermore, even if someone can drink, I've never seen anyone flaunt a bottle of high-proof liquor like that. Even people from Northeast China wouldn't dare to drink like that.

I drank it too fast, and now it felt like there were flames burning in my stomach.

The heat and pain were mixed together, and the alcohol was starting to take effect, causing my face to slowly turn from red to purple.

"You know quite a lot. Only Shuichi Akai would know so much. You must be an FBI agent."

Xia Chuan lowered his head, picked up the third bottle of tequila, and placed it in front of the bottle. "To get this information, we just need to check the FBI director's taxes; we can easily obtain it. Any other questions?"

He stopped pretending. When the FBI was mentioned, Tequila's face showed more mockery than anything else, and he couldn't get a single question out.

Tequila remained silent for a long time, but what it said made a lot of sense.

Could it really be the IRS?

If it really is this organization, then his arrest is a huge injustice.

All the drugs I sell are within Japan. Although some of the people who buy the drugs will export them to the United States, what does that have to do with Tequila?

“Drug exports to the United States have nothing to do with me. These are the problems of the buyers. If you want to collect taxes, you should go after them.”

“You don’t know this,” Xia Chuan shook his head. “From the source to the individual sellers, no one can escape. They have to pay whether they want to or not.”

"This is Japan!" Tequila, a Kansai native, suddenly felt that his country had been offended. Even if it was about paying taxes, shouldn't the Japanese National Tax Service be the one to come to him? What kind of nonsense is it for the IRS to overstep its bounds?

Natsukawa, who was addicted to playing the IRS, patted Tequila on the shoulder and said, "We're all from the same global village, or you can think of Yokosuka Port in Kanagawa Prefecture. I'll allow you to rephrase your words."

Agave: "."

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(End of this chapter)