Chapter 749 - 471: Taxes

Chapter 749: Chapter 471: Taxes

In response to Feng Mountain’s inquiry, Nash stood up without a word, his actions making his stance clear.

Seeing this, Feng Mountain casually set down his napkin, slowly pushed his chair back, and rose.

He glanced at the owner with the ponytail, who was still in a daze, gave a slight nod, and then walked toward the restaurant door.

At that moment, a storm was raging in the heart of the restaurant’s owner, Jeff.

The words he had just heard echoed endlessly in his mind.

’My River Beach!!!’

The phrase struck him like a clap of thunder.

’Could this Indigenous person actually be the owner of the River Beach?’

In an instant, all sorts of thoughts raced through his mind.

He was filled with regret for not recognizing Feng Mountain’s identity and missing a potential opportunity for a deeper partnership.

’If only I had known.’

’I would have never said what I did at the end.’

Thinking of this, the owner, Jeff, grew anxious and quickly turned to look at Jeff, a regular customer.

Jeff nodded silently and took the bill from the waiter.

His eyes scanned the bill.

The meal had come to 1,000 US Dollars.

Just three servings of Emperor Crab cream chowder made up a full 630 US Dollars.

With the 20% tip for the server, the final total reached 1,200 US Dollars.

However, Jeff didn’t feel the slightest sting.

As he saw it, this meal was an expense for hosting Feng Mountain. He could just get it reimbursed by his company later; it was just a matter of following procedure.

Jeff was taking the cash out of his wallet.

Just then, the owner quickly reached out to stop him, his face plastered with a sincere smile. In a heartfelt tone, he said,

"Mr. Jeff, this one is on me. I was hoping you could introduce me to Mr. Feng."

Hearing this, Jeff just shook his head.

His hands didn’t stop; he continued to pull the exact amount from his wallet. His tone had lost its earlier familiarity. He had no intention of returning to this restaurant, so there was no reason to be polite.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Feng doesn’t like being bothered by strangers. There’s nothing I can do."

When the owner, Jeff, heard this, his expression froze for a moment.

Then, a look of dejection washed over him, as if all his hopes had been shattered in an instant.

But he was a seasoned businessman, after all. He quickly composed himself and forced another smile.

He took the initiative to see the three of them out of the restaurant.

Dinner was over, and night had fallen.

An ink-blue sky blanketed Juneau City, dotted with a few sparse stars.

On either side of the street, vintage-style gas lamps flickered on one by one. Their dim, yellow halos spilled across the stone-paved road, casting long, uneven shadows.

Despite the encroaching darkness, the tourists’ enthusiasm was not the least bit dampened.

Everywhere, tourists ambled in small groups, strolling leisurely between shops, stopping to admire the unique goods in the display windows, or ducking inside to pick out souvenirs.

The inviting aroma of seafood drifted from street-side restaurants, faint laughter echoed from the bars, and the low hum of a ship’s horn carried from the distant docks.

All signs that the nightlife in this coastal city was just getting started.

As they walked, Jeff’s thoughts were still on the restaurant bill.

A single serving of Emperor Crab cream chowder was priced at a steep 210 US Dollars.

And it barely had any crab meat in it.

Yet they still managed to sell it at such a high price.

Thinking of this, Jeff couldn’t hide his envy. "Feng," he said, sighing with emotion, "I never realized the Emperor Crab from the River Beach was so popular. No wonder you’re buying more boats to expand. Speaking of which, the River Beach must have made a great profit during last year’s Bering Sea season, right?"

The sea breeze swept by, carrying the scent of salt and brine.

A searchlight from the distant docks swept across the surface of the sea, faintly revealing the silhouettes of several fishing boats rocking gently on the waves.

Feng Mountain did not answer immediately.

He simply shoved his hands into his windbreaker pockets and gazed out at the dark horizon of the sea.

After a moment, he spoke, his tone calm but laced with resentment.

"The profits were decent enough, but the high taxes are a real headache. The Internal Revenue Service does nothing and just waltzes in and takes at least 50% of the earnings. I really don’t get it sometimes. What gives them the right?"

"Because they’re the Internal Revenue Service." Jeff shook his head with a wry smile.

’He knew the answer to that question all too well.’

In the United States, if the Internal Revenue Service so much as suspects a taxpayer of evasion, they don’t need to go through the tedious process of getting court approval.

The Internal Revenue Service has the authority to directly freeze the taxpayer’s bank accounts and all of their personal assets.

Not only that, but the Internal Revenue Service also has the power to conduct an in-depth investigation into all of a taxpayer’s information—from financial statements and transaction records to private correspondence and personal details—in an attempt to find so-called "evidence."

What’s more, the Internal Revenue Service can even send a suspect to prison without a trial.

It’s safe to say that no one, from Wall Street tycoons to slum street vendors, from Hollywood’s biggest stars to the occupant of the White House, can avoid dealing with the Internal Revenue Service.

However, Jeff wasn’t afraid of the notorious Internal Revenue Service like most people were.

The key reason for this was his status as an Indigenous person belonging to a reservation.

You see, the federal government recognizes an Indigenous Tribe as a sovereign entity, its status, to some extent, similar to that of a state government.

Because of this special status, an Indigenous Tribe typically enjoys a significant privilege:

exemption from federal and state taxes.

In other words, the Internal Revenue Service cannot tax the tribe itself.

Moreover, a tribe possesses considerable autonomy within its reservation, even having the power to establish its own taxes, like a sales tax.

Of course, the creation of these tax policies wasn’t entirely without restriction. The tax base was typically the result of a series of negotiations between the tribe, the state, and local governments, culminating in a formal agreement.