While they chatted, the salvage operation soon came to an end.
Aside from the enemy soldiers who had fallen into the sea, the four Fast Ships they had sunk had also brought some things to the surface as they went down with the vessels.
As for those items, White Butcher salvaged whatever he could, then took them aboard the large ship they had captured as spoils and returned to the tropical island.
After stepping off Number Seven Ship and onto the pier, Charlie instinctively surveyed the island before him, as well as the Great Zhou camp situated some distance away.
Seeing this, White Butcher did not seem to mind. He even casually explained, "We only arrived on this island recently. Some tribal natives live here..."
As he spoke, White Butcher briefly explained the overall situation.
Charlie, who was listening from the side, wore an expression that shifted between light and dark, as if he did not know what to make of it.
"According to your meaning, Colonel White Butcher, the vessel our Barton Empire sent here earlier was attacked by a school of piranhas living in these waters and sank outside the island?"
"That's what the tribal natives here told us. They said a ship was attacked and sunk by a school of piranhas. Comparing the intelligence from both sides, that ship should have been yours."
White Butcher was not trying to explain anything, nor was he afraid of the so-called Barton Empire. But they clearly had no desire to take the blame for something they had never done.
"Then where are those piranhas? We haven't seen them at all along the way."
As he said this, Charlie stared intently at White Butcher, as if trying to discern something from his face.
White Butcher merely smiled faintly.
"Those piranhas were