The Hawaiian Islands at night resembled a mysterious treasure gently wrapped in black silk. A lingering sea breeze swept past, carrying faint, saline whispers from the depths of the ocean that silently diffused through the air.
On Island No. 8, the clamor of fierce combat had faded, replaced by a profound silence as if time itself had frozen, leaving only the lingering aftertaste of death.
Xu Lin walked with steady strides from the direction of the cave toward the harbor. Along the way, while describing the scene as "corpses strewn everywhere" might be slightly exaggerated, it was true that one did not have to walk far before spotting another lifeless body sprawled on the cold ground. Some pirates still had their eyes wide open, retaining expressions of terror even in death, while others had twisted limbs, clearly having endured a desperate struggle in their final moments. These lives, once so unbridled and arrogant upon the sea, had now transformed into cold husks, silently attesting to the cruelty of the battle.
Chapter 172