Pirate: My villain's identity is exposed

"To whom?"

"Sloan Population Trading Group."

Luo Luo swallowed, this is not a secret, everyone in the Betis Pirates knows it.

"Oh."

Sherlock searched his memory and couldn't remember this trading group. He patted Lauberon on the shoulder and said, "Since they are all slaves, ask if they are willing to follow us and leave. If not, let them go."

"Yes, Captain."

Lauberon nodded.

Basically, once he takes action, this group of people is destined to flow into Taita Island and become a fresh labor force.

Sherlock actually understood it, but he still went through the process habitually, using Laubron to highlight his democracy and show it to the captains of the white team.

Let them know what a great man they are following.

Face projects must be done well.

From Luo Luo's words, Sherlock basically grasped the situation of the island.

If you want to completely occupy the island, you have to fight the rebels.

But Sherlock was not prepared to do this.

This island is actually rich in rubber resources, which can produce rubber products and sell them to other islands. Sherlock seems to have seen a road to wealth.

Sherlock asked someone to notify the other two warlord leaders and ask for a meeting.

The address was chosen in the small town of Miguel in the middle of the island.

MiG Town is a neutral zone and will be ignored for the time being.

In order to get off the guard of the leaders of the two warlords, Sherlock only took Pipicia to kiss a fat bat.

The small town of MiG, which was sparsely populated due to the war, was now very lively. Groups of militiamen in plain clothes were wandering the streets pretending to be people, while the real people were hiding in dark corners and lingering. There were many broken houses and buildings. Compared with the ruins, there is only one name difference.

In an empty bar, two warlord leaders sat opposite each other.

Their men have surrounded the MiG town.

In this bar, wherever there is a cover, the bodyguards are basically hiding.

Sherlock walked into the bar, and the bell at the door jingled.

The two warlord leaders turned back and looked at Sherlock warily.

He actually came alone.

Even the uninformed Jones Island knew Leah D. Houston's name.

They noticed that Houston really came alone.

"Hey, we're all here. Sorry, I'm late."

Sherlock said with a smile. He stretched out his hand to pull out a wooden chair and sat next to the two of them. His movements were casual and he looked familiar.

"You're a pirate, what do you have to talk to us about?"

The bald warlord leader said.

The other warlord is a red-haired woman who looks very ordinary, even somewhat masculine.

She was smoking a cigarette at the moment and turned around to look at Houston.

"What does the famous pirate Houston have to talk about with us little warlords?"

Her voice is also typical of smokers and alcoholics, and does not arouse any interest.

Sherlock opened a piece of candy, threw it into his mouth, changed his lazy sitting posture, and leaned on the back of the chair. A feeling of oppression emanated from his whole body, making both of them feel their breathing become short for an instant.

Cold sweat wet her back, and the cigarette in the female warlord's mouth instantly lost its taste.

The palms of the bald warlord's hands were also sweaty. He was ready to take out a pistol from his waist at any time. At the same time, if the wine glass clenched in his right hand fell to the ground, the bodyguards in the dark would fire at Sherlock, and so would his men. Rush in and save him.

All these arrangements were equivalent to three layers of insurance, but his heart was still agitated, like an ant on a hot pot, unable to calm down.

It's hard to believe that Leah D. Houston is so scary.

Sherlock rubbed the dull hair on Pipicia's head and glanced casually across the interior of the bar. He found that there were a total of 30 bodyguards with a health volume of about 1000. They were out of the ordinary, but they were not enough to look at. .

"I have seen the situation here on the way here. People have been displaced, sold as slaves, or begging on the streets. Joining the rebel army or becoming pirates has become the only way out."

"Yes, this is the current situation on Jones Island, so I, Coles, am determined to defeat the other warlords, establish a unified regime on the island, and end this war."

Bald warlord Coles said.

The female warlord glanced at him with a look of disdain, "You are just seeking more benefits from the chaos."

"Aren't you?"

Coles blew his beard.

The female warlord took another puff of cigarette to relieve her emotional tension.

"I can make this island better, and I won't destroy you. Your army can be integrated into my peripheral team and serve as the island's city defense force, but it must abide by the rules I set."

Sherlock said slowly.

The expressions of the two warlords became very rich, from surprise at first, to panic, and finally to disbelief.

"What the hell do you want to do? Houston!"

The grumpy bald warlord pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Sherlock's head.

Sherlock looked at him. His left hand seemed to be controlled by some unnatural force. It broke with a click and the pistol fell to the ground.

He crushed the wine glass in his right hand, and the bodyguards shot at Sherlock.

The bullets stopped 1cm away from Sherlock, as if blocked by an invisible barrier. Not only that, the bullets were bounced back instantly.

All 15 of Coles' bodyguards suffered the consequences and fell in a pool of blood.

Coles was completely frightened this time.

When the plainclothes officers on the periphery heard the noise, they rushed in immediately, raising their submachine guns: "Leah D. Houston, you are surrounded, don't move."

Not to be outdone, the red-haired female warlord's troops surrounded him, also holding hot weapons.

There was also a group of bodyguards hiding in the bar, ready to take action against Sherlock at any time, but when they saw the fate of the bald bodyguard, their psychological pressure increased dramatically.

"Calm down."

The red-haired female warlord stood up and scolded her troops.

She is not as impulsive as the bald warlord, she is better at thinking and weighing.

Just now, she also discovered that Houston was not someone at her level who could resist. He was very powerful.

"You have murderous intentions towards me."

A coldness flashed across Sherlock's eyes, and the bald warlord backed away rationally.

The next second, he found that his head and body had been separated.

Sherlock just pointed his hand slightly at him and pointed the gun at him, and his head was dismembered.

The bald warlord fell in a pool of blood, and his men immediately focused their fire on Sherlock.

Sherlock waved his fist, and the air vibrated, sending the group of people flying dozens of meters away. Bullets and artillery exploded in the air, completely unable to reach Sherlock.

Shake the fruit!

The female warlord's eyes widened, and she was grateful that she was not as impulsive as Bald Coles, otherwise today would be her death anniversary.

"I really just want to have a good conversation."

Sherlock sighed, "Why can't you just listen to what people say?"