Chapter 81: Tax Evasion by Corpses (Part 3)

Lu Yan’s expression shifted instantly, his gaze snapping toward Shack.

They had just been about to exchange sensitive information when the Enforcement Division burst in. The timing felt far too convenient.

But Shack, whose bloodied face was filled with confusion, clearly hadn’t seen this coming either.

Sensing Lu Yan’s hostile stare, Shack shuddered and quickly began explaining:

“This has absolutely nothing to do with me! Please, sir, believe me!”

“This gladiator arena is the foundation of everything I’ve built—why would I bring the Enforcement Division down on my own head and sabotage myself?”

Lu Yan neither agreed nor refuted. He simply shifted his gaze back toward the center of the arena.

As the Enforcement Division stormed in, the entire arena fell silent for a moment—only for a wave of noise to quickly rise up again. Jeers, curses, and taunts filled the air.

Under the rule of the Universal Conglomerate, every city followed one ironclad law: pay your taxes.

It was the single universal law that all were forced to obey. No exceptions.

That said, as long as you paid your taxes on time, you could do practically anything in the Lower City.

Everyone seated in the arena was at least well-off enough to meet their basic tax obligations. Most were veterans of this world’s dark underbelly.

Even cursing the Enforcement Division to their faces wouldn’t lead to punishment—as long as no one dared attack them outright, the law protected them in public spaces.

In the midst of the uproar, a well-dressed young man calmly stepped forward to meet the incoming officers. He was the same young manager who had received Lu Yan and Quentin earlier.

He smiled with practiced elegance and bowed respectfully toward the Enforcement Division before speaking in a calm but confident tone:

“I am the manager of this arena. You’ve destroyed our public property and forcibly interrupted our ongoing matches. May I ask what the meaning of this is?”

“Our arena is comprised entirely of law-abiding citizens. We even submit our taxes half a month in advance every cycle. For the Enforcement Division to treat us in such a manner—are you saying the law no longer matters?”

His words struck a chord with the thousands of spectators present, who immediately began voicing their support.

“More corporate bloodhounds sniffing for scraps again?”

“We pay our taxes—what the hell do we have to fear from these mutts?”

“Get out! Get out!”

The armored Enforcement Division soldiers said nothing. But behind them, a crisp set of footsteps rang out—and a slender figure slowly emerged.

He didn’t wear a power exosuit like the others. Standing just over 1.7 meters tall, he wore a dark blue Enforcement uniform and a silver star-tipped cap. Compared to the towering, armor-clad agents behind him—each at least 2.5 meters tall—he seemed almost fragile.

But no one dared to underestimate him.

Because pinned to his chest was a silver insignia: a hand holding up a globe.

The moment he appeared, every Enforcement agent lowered their rifles and saluted in unison.

And in that instant, the once-raucous arena fell dead silent.

All the jeers, all the curses—gone. Swallowed down like bile.

That silver badge of the Universal Conglomerate identified the man as a full Enforcement Officer.

Every Enforcement Officer was a Spirit Energy user from the Upper City—inhumanly powerful.

But individual strength wasn’t what made them truly terrifying. No—the real fear came from their authority.

Appointed directly by the City Tax Bureau, Enforcement Officers were empowered to mobilize an entire city’s basic defense systems.

This included everything from regular police and the Enforcement Division… to Spirit Energy mech suits and even Dawn-class tanks.

On top of that, they had the right to levy immediate taxes at will. If any Lower City resident failed to comply, the Officer could legally label them a tax evader and sentence them on the spot—whether that meant immediate execution or transfer to the Heaven Computational Center.

There had even been a past case where an Enforcement Officer sealed off an entire underground district and slaughtered nearly ten thousand residents under the pretense of collecting “Cavern Taxes.”

He was later tried in court.

But the High Judge’s verdict? The officer was found guilty of misusing his authority and mass slaughter of citizens—and was sentenced to two hundred years of soul-labor in the Heaven Computational Center.

Sound like justice?

But if you looked deeper, you’d find that the real reason for the sentence wasn’t the massacre. It was because the officer had chosen to kill the citizens rather than send their souls to the computational core.

Such waste of “soul resources” was deemed unforgivable.

Had he simply handed over all ten thousand souls to Heaven AI, the officer likely would’ve walked free.

Tales of Enforcement Officer atrocities were infamous throughout the Lower City. Which was why, the moment this one appeared, the crowd fell silent.

Even the confident arena manager’s face changed. After a moment of hesitation, he forced himself to bow and say:

“Greetings, Enforcement Officer.”

The Officer gave a polite smile. “My name is Scott. I’m here today on official business—no need to be alarmed.”

Hearing his mild tone, the young manager visibly relaxed and quickly responded:

“If Officer Scott is here for official duty, our arena will of course offer full cooperation.”

“Excellent.”

Scott clapped lightly. One of the armored officers behind him stepped forward and produced a scroll.

“According to our investigation, your arena is suspected of evading Spirit Energy taxes. By law, I am placing all individuals within this facility under arrest for transfer to the Heaven Computational Center.

Here is the official warrant issued by the City Tax Bureau. Please review it.”

Evading Spirit Energy tax?!

The moment those words left his mouth, the entire audience turned to stare at the manager—with expressions of awe.

Everyone knew: in a world ruled by the Universal Conglomerate, you could do anything—except skip out on Spirit Energy tax.

Even major figures in the Upper City weren’t immune. If you skipped your Spirit Energy tax, you were going to the computational core. No exceptions.

The manager’s eyes widened in disbelief. He shouted:

“Officer Scott, there must be some mistake!

Our arena pays all taxes half a month in advance. We’ve never missed a single payment—certainly not something as crucial as the Spirit Energy tax!”

“You think I’m accusing you unjustly?” Scott asked calmly.

The manager opened his mouth but couldn’t form a reply.

“No need to be nervous. I’m not like those brutes who solve everything with force. I value procedure.”

As he spoke, Scott raised his right hand. A virtual screen flickered to life before everyone’s eyes.

“According to your standard filings, yes—your arena has paid everything on time.

But… you’ve been selling the corpses of dead fighters to corpse processing plants, who then implant AI routines and use those bodies for industrial labor.

These corpses still contain residual Spirit Energy. Over long hours of work, their lingering energy continues to function and generate value.

Since your arena is the legal owner of those corpses, you were responsible for reporting this use of Spirit Energy and paying the appropriate tax.

But you failed to report it.

Which means—you have evaded Spirit Energy tax!”

(End of Chapter)