26: At least you still get paid.

"Forty-five percent?! Why don't you just rob us! This is fucking robbery! Robbery in broad daylight!"

Wang Dalong's roar exploded over the empty Snake Bone Island, echoing thunderously and startling a large flock of seabirds resting on a distant reef, sending them fluttering into the sky.

His entire face turned the color of pig liver, and the veins on his forehead and neck bulged one by one as if they were about to burst through his skin. The finger he pointed at Professor Davies shook violently with extreme rage, nearly poking the man's nose.

Twelve million pounds!

This figure had been warm in his mind for less than a minute, and now it was like a log being chopped in half—crack—suddenly more than half of it was gone!

Five million four hundred thousand pounds! In the time it took to say a single sentence, it was gone!

This was more devastating than losing all your chips at a casino! That massive drop from the peak of the clouds into a bottomless abyss caused him to lose all reason instantly.

However, his torrential rage was utterly useless in front of these British people.

The professional smile on Professor Davies' face didn't change even a fraction. Only within that smile was a hint of condescending pity, as if he were looking at a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

Captain Connelly, standing to the side, and the group of armed Royal Marines behind him didn't even twitch an eyebrow. Their expressions were as cold and hard as the island's rocks. Looking at Wang Dalong, they were quite literally watching a monkey jumping and screaming in a cage to no avail.

"Mr. Wang, please watch your words."

Captain Connelly finally spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a cold, metallic quality.

"To openly attack Her Majesty's tax laws on Her Majesty's territory is a very, very serious accusation."

The moment those words fell, an invisible but incredibly heavy pressure instantly enveloped the scene.

The Marines, who had previously just been on guard, moved in unison. With a 'click,' they casually rested their fingers on the safeties of their assault rifles. The atmosphere suddenly froze, and the air was filled with the dangerous scent of gunpowder mixed with sea salt.

The rest of the curses in Wang Dalong's stomach were forced back down his throat by this icy aura.

His mouth opened and closed, but not a word came out. Cold sweat suddenly broke out across his back.

He suddenly woke up to the fact that he wasn't facing businessmen he could bargain with, nor scholars he could reason with, but a cold, efficient state machine with absolute military force!

Here, their law was the sky!

At this tense moment, a hand firmly grabbed Wang Dalong's arm and pulled him back sharply.

Lin Feng stepped in front of him, shielding him completely.

Lin Feng also had a fire burning in his heart, making his insides ache. But he knew better than Wang Dalong that any impulsiveness now would only make their situation worse and yield no good results. Going head-to-head with a state machine? That was something only a pure idiot would do.

"Professor Davies," Lin Feng's voice was steady, showing no emotional fluctuation as he gazed calmly at the other man, "is this tax rate confirmed to be correct?"

"Confirmed, Mr. Lin." Professor Davies nodded approvingly; he clearly preferred communicating with 'civilized' people like Lin Feng.

He slowly took a legal manual as thick as a brick from his briefcase. His white-gloved fingers skillfully flipped to a page, then he turned the manual toward Lin Feng, pointing at the dense English text.

"HMRC, which is Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs, has extremely clear regulations regarding the tax rate on large windfall gains for non-residents."

He pointed to a line of bolded text and read it word by word: "Forty-five percent. This is the highest tax bracket, applicable to all windfall income exceeding one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. I believe your twelve million pound prize clearly and significantly exceeds this standard."

Black ink on white paper.

Law and statutes.

Cold and heartless.

Wang Dalong leaned over to take a look. Although he couldn't recognize all the English, the Arabic numerals '45%' were like a red-hot iron, searing themselves into his eyeballs.

The strength seemed to drain from his body instantly. He slumped down and sat on a cold rock nearby. He held his head in his hands, burying his face deep into his knees, muttering the same sentence over and over:

"Gone... it's really gone... more than half is just gone..."

Professor Davies closed the manual, and the professional smile on his face finally softened, replaced by a look of somewhat sincere sympathy. He walked to Wang Dalong's side, reached out, and gently patted his trembling shoulder.

"Young man, don't be so depressed. You should look at this from a different perspective." He lowered his voice, speaking in a persuasive, almost mentor-like tone, "Honestly, you are very lucky that the place you found the treasure happens to be a British Overseas Territory."

"Lucky?!" Wang Dalong suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, and asked hoarsely, "You call being robbed of half our money 'lucky'?!"

"Of course." Professor Davies' tone was indisputable.

He pointed toward the sea to the north: "If the place you found the treasure was on Saint Martin Island to the north, the situation would be completely different. That island is half French and half Dutch."

"According to French law, the state directly owns one hundred percent of any unclaimed property found on public land. The finder? Not a penny of compensation. At most, they'd give you a certificate of honor, thanking you for your contribution to French culture."

"On the Dutch side, the laws seem more lenient, allowing the finder and the landowner to split it. But believe me, once you enter the execution phase—various evaluations, appraisals, hearings, lawsuits... it can wear you down to death. I know a colleague who found a shipwreck in the Dutch area; the lawsuit lasted eight years, and in the end, the money he got wasn't even enough to pay his legal fees."

Professor Davies paused, looked around, and finally gave his concluding statement:

"In our British Empire, although the tax rate is indeed high, everything is transparent and the legal system is sound. Sign the agreement, deduct the taxes, and issue the prize—the entire process is clear and straightforward, without any squabbling or surprises."

He patted Wang Dalong's shoulder again, his tone carrying the sentiment of someone who had seen it all.

"So, young man, you should feel fortunate. At least you can actually walk away with six million six hundred thousand pounds. This sum, over sixty million RMB, is enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your lives in any major city in the world. Being able to take such a large piece of meat from a tiger's mouth is already an immense stroke of luck."

This cruel yet realistic 'consolation' was like a bucket of ice water poured over Wang Dalong, completely extinguishing the last of his fantasies and rage.

He stopped talking.

He understood completely.

In this world where the strong set the rules, the weak have no right to bargain. Being able to pry a piece of meat from someone's mouth without being swallowed whole was indeed 'lucky'.

From beginning to end, Lin Feng just listened quietly, his face devoid of expression.

Only after Professor Davies finished his long speech did he speak, asking the only question he cared about now.

"When can we leave?"

"All procedures are complete; you may leave at any time." Captain Connelly stepped forward and handed back their passports, his tone formal. "The prize money will be wired to your designated international bank accounts within approximately two to three weeks after all legal processes are finalized. We will send a speedboat to take you to the nearest Anguilla International Airport."

The matter was settled.

Half an hour later.

A gray speedboat flying the Royal Navy ensign was cutting through the deep blue waves, heading northwest at high speed.

Lin Feng and Wang Dalong sat at the stern. Snake Bone Island grew smaller and smaller in their vision, eventually turning into a blurry black dot.

The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the sea surface a golden red. On the island, the British professional equipment had already begun operating, sealing the cave entrance and transporting the wealth that was registered and soon to belong to 'Her Majesty'.

None of this had anything to do with them anymore.

Wang Dalong leaned against the cold gunwale, letting the salty, chilly sea breeze mess up his hair and dry the moisture at the corners of his eyes. He said nothing, just stared fixedly at the distant horizon.

The massive surprise and the equally massive loss were like two mountains, weighing him down until he could barely breathe.

Lin Feng, however, looked toward another part of the sea.

It was the direction in which Captain Jack's dilapidated speedboat had disappeared.

His hand was in his pocket, his fingertips brushing against the copy of the agreement he had just signed. On the paper, the figure of six million six hundred thousand pounds was cold and real.

But he felt as if he had lost an incredibly important gamble.

What he lost wasn't the three million pounds in valuation that had been hacked away, nor the five million four hundred thousand pounds snatched by tax law.

What he lost was the true priceless treasure—the Golden Mural that recorded unknown secrets.

That was the core of Captain Kidd's treasure!

The phone in his pocket vibrated. It was a text message from the bank, notifying him that a large sum of money was about to arrive and asking him to confirm the account information.

Lin Feng took a look and silently turned off the screen.

He opened the map software on his phone, zoomed in, and zoomed in again, finally settling on a vast area of the Caribbean Sea.

His finger traced lightly across the map.

That 'memory' regarding Captain Kidd was clearer than ever in his mind at this moment.