While in America, the system says Roosevelt was an emperor.

Although Big Baldy was a beat slow, he realized that Tom wasn't saying European cars were unpatriotic; he was clearly using "European cars" and "American cars" as a pretext to cause trouble.

The bald man was furious and roared:

"Fuck, you think you can tell me to get lost?"

The bald man's temper flared instantly, and he charged at Tom with his fists raised.

The two henchmen also looked hostile and rushed forward behind their boss.

Tom neither dodged nor avoided the attack, and even gestured with his eyes for Connie, who wanted to protect him, not to come up.

When the three bald men were just a few steps away, Tom calmly tossed his ID card out of his pocket and threw it directly at the bald man's face.

The bald gang representative was stunned for a moment after being hit, then heard Tom say to him:

"As a civil servant of the New York City Department of Finance, a branch of the U.S. Treasury Department, I am here to review your year-end tax returns."

The ID slipped off the face of the bald gang leader, and Tom got up and walked forward to the three bald men.

Tom leaned forward, bringing his face close to the glass, and even gently patted his own face. This made Godfather Vito want to slap him, not to mention the representatives of the Bald Gang. The three bald men were so angry that they stood in a row of red lights.

Ignoring the stares around him, Tom looked at the three bald men, whose faces were growing increasingly red, and said to them:

"Come on, hit me in the face, and let's see if tomorrow it's a tax collector, the National Guard, or even the FBI, which's only been around for five or six years, coming to your house!"

The bald guy managed to rise to gang leader; he wasn't stupid, but he was slow-witted. He knew the source of Tom's arrogance—the FBI.

In 1935, the FBI was established at the behest of President Roosevelt, dedicated to carrying out special arrest operations without notifying state governments, with the aim of increasing central authority.

Although before Tom's time travel, the FBI had already fallen to the point of being a regular feature in the opening sequence,

But in the early days of the FBI, it wielded immense power.

Especially during President Roosevelt's term, the FBI was the emperor's royal guard, the emperor's secret police, and the president's air force.

The bald man understood that if the FBI found out he had assaulted a tax collector, they would definitely make an example of him.

President Roosevelt declared war on national radio two days ago, prompting a flurry of responses across the country as various regions launched large-scale tax investigations.

But only two days later, you dared to resist taxes and beat up the tax collector, and you did it openly!

Don't worry about how many people are in the meeting room, or whether the meeting room is an enclosed space.

If the FBI says it's a public setting, then it's a public setting.

I think you're not resisting taxes, but rather you're dissatisfied with Emperor Luo's orders and want to rebel.

If a bald guy doesn't use his brain, he'll be a bald guy his whole life.

Those two bald guys don't understand any of this. What kind of FBI is this? Are they any better than my Bald Gang?

The two bald boys felt their blood rush to their heads and wanted to beat Tom up.

The two bald boys threw punches at Tom, who neither dodged nor avoided them; the harder they hit him, the better.

"Slap! Slap!"

Two dull thuds sounded, but Tom felt no pain.

There is no such thing as a peaceful and carefree life; it's just that someone is bearing the burden for you.

Tom wasn't the one getting hit, so of course he didn't feel any pain. The big bald guy stood between the two little bald guys and Tom, taking the two blows for Tom.

The two bald boys, seeing their leader block the punch, were unsure whether to stop or continue.

The bald man was at a loss; he dared not fight, and it would be foolish to make threats. The scene suddenly froze.

Standing there, the bald man was filled with regret, wondering why he had tried to establish his authority.

There's no such thing as being late or stuck in traffic. The bald guy deliberately arrived a few minutes late to give Tom a hard time.

The bald man figured that with his fleshy face, fierce appearance, and blood-stained hands, even if he was late, Tom, a rich second-generation (in his imagination), wouldn't dare to mess with him.

But to my utter surprise, Tom tried to kill me right away.

Shouldn't it be that if I'm late and arrogant, even if Tom is unhappy, he can only let me sit down and then subtly sabotage me during the meeting?

He took the initiative to challenge the other side during the meeting, and the two sides went back and forth, pulling each other back and forth, and finally negotiated a result that satisfied everyone.

This is the normal procedure for gang negotiations; who would have thought Tom would be so arrogant and reckless?

Who plays Dou Dizhu (a popular Chinese card game) by starting with two Kings to beat a single three? Who goes all-in in Texas Hold'em without looking at their hand? Who unleashes their ultimate move as soon as they log in to a Dota-like game?

Tom knew the normal gang negotiation process, of course, but he felt that the gang leaders weren't worth his time.

If you've already time-traveled once, why waste your time by dragging things out and negotiating in a humiliating way?

After Tom traveled through time, he had only one rule for dealing with people: those who can't kill me don't deserve my leniency.

Baldy, do you dare kill me, Tom Smith?

It's obvious that the bald man wouldn't dare; he wouldn't even dare to hit him, let alone kill him.

If I were to hit Tom, how many lives would my entire family have that the FBI could kill?

The bald guy joined the gang to make money, not to die.

Suppressing his anger, the bald man, amidst the disdainful gazes of the crowd, pulled the two bald men away from the conference room.

Just as the three reached the meeting room door, Tom's voice came from behind:

"Pick it up, pick up my ID."

The bald man froze, and the two bald boys turned around and glared at Tom, their eyes filled with hatred as if they wanted to tear him apart.

Tom, seemingly oblivious, raised his voice and continued:

"I told you to pick it up, didn't you hear me?"

The two little bald boys, their eyes bloodshot, charged at Tom, spewing out all sorts of "fuck," "shit," and "bitch."

The bald man stood with his arms outstretched, blocking the doorway. Blood began to seep from his clenched fists, and he was on the verge of exploding.

Even Vito the Godfather was about to advise Tom to stop, but Tom, seizing the opportunity, continued shouting:

"Pick up the documents! Pick up the documents!"

Finally, the bald man let out a long breath, and his body seemed to collapse.

No one knows what he was thinking. It could be his wife and children at home, his brothers who had risked their lives with him in the Bald Gang, or even his own life.

In short, the bald man slowly turned around, bowed his head, bent over, and carefully picked up Tom's financial bureau ID under the trembling gazes of his two underlings, presenting it to Tom with both hands.

Tom gave a slap on the wrist and then offered a sweet treat, saying as he took the documents:

"Go back and wait for further notice. Cooperate well with the federal government's taxation plan, and you can live a life of luxury for the rest of your life."

No one knew what the bald man was thinking; in any case, he fled in a daze, like a shrimp whose vein had been removed.

After passing three red lights, Tom dusted off imaginary dirt and went back to sit in the main seat.

Although he was sitting in the same position as before, Tom looked completely different to others.

In their eyes, Tom was no longer a parachuted-in son of a high-ranking official, but a special tax collector sent by the federal government to crack down on tax collection.

Yevgeny's face also brightened, as if to say:

"See, that's what foresight looks like."

"Even though we were both late, I took my seat, but the bald guy was kicked out."

"What do you mean by weak bribery? This is clearly the foresight of an aristocrat. You bumpkins should learn from it."