Alchemists do not need self-cultivation

"Yes, it's the ship I'm standing on right now."

Isaac is now standing on top of the submarine, which has surfaced.

Several people opened the hatch and went inside.

"You will take this submarine to the uninhabited island at headquarters, where it will serve as an important strategic resource."

"Yes!"

They took control of the U-boat, while Isaac jumped onto the destroyer and said to the remaining soldiers, "See that bombed ship over there? You guys head towards it and hold it off so no one gets away."

"Yes."

"If they try to move, give them a shot and send them to the bottom of the sea to feed the sharks."

As darkness fell over Tiansai, the city gradually darkened.

Back on the torpedo boat, Locke and Levi had already changed out of their diving suits and back into their original attire.

"Boss Yao, that submarine just now..."

They also saw a huge submarine surface, which was undoubtedly the same silent submarine they had previously been responsible for salvaging the paintings.

"That's the one, I fixed it."

"..."

This statement left everyone stunned.

Is it really possible for one person to repair a severely damaged submarine that has been submerged for decades?

“Let’s put the submarine issue aside for now; we also need to deal with that ship,” Isaac said.

The IW fleet blocked their path, and they remained stuck on the sea, unable to advance any further.

They had originally planned to launch a lifeboat to escape, but before they could even launch it, the IW troops riddled them with machine gun fire.

Dutch and Levy wholeheartedly agreed.

“Indeed, they came to hold a ‘Nazi party’ while we were doing salvage work. This matter really can’t be left like this.”

“Of course, let’s have a ‘corpse party’ now,” Isaac grinned.

The torpedo boat's engine started, accelerating as it approached the ship.

Levi, Isaac, and Dutch boarded the ship's deck with guns. There was a huge hole in the hull, which Isaac had blasted out with a missile.

There were a lot of corpses lying on top, including those who had been bombed to death earlier, as well as the bodies of soldiers who had been shot down by machine guns while trying to escape.

"Tch, still wearing Nazi armbands? What a bunch of weirdos." Levi looked at the corpse on the ground with disdain.

"There are mentally challenged people everywhere, you'll get used to it."

The three of them rushed into the upper building at the same time.

There are three floors inside, which are the rest and office areas for the soldiers.

As soon as the three of them went inside, they started shooting at the people inside.

The dense barrage of bullets created a metallic storm that instantly killed the group. Both Levi and Dutch were battle-hardened veterans, not to mention Isaac, who was also among them.

The people on the first two floors were wiped out within minutes.

“Isaac, doesn’t this feel a bit like four years ago?” Levi laughed as she fired her gun.

"what?"

"Back then, it was you, me, and that old man George who fought our way out of the detention center with guns. It seems like things aren't much different now."

"Now that you mention it, I do remember, but I don't recall you firing a shot back then."

That's because I don't have a gun.

Didn't I give it to you?

"No."

"Never mind then, I don't remember the details very well."

The two chatted and laughed as they casually killed the enemy who rushed out of the room.

The three of them finally stopped in front of an office.

"Those guys were really a disgrace. They were obviously just there to make up the numbers. They had no military discipline whatsoever." Isaac looked at the corpses scattered all over the ground behind him with a sense of unease.

Three people could easily take on a hundred of them; what kind of useless bunch are they?

"In the end, they're just imitators, not real soldiers," Dutch laughed. "But Boss Yao is really something. When we first met, I thought you were just a simple businessman."

"That's right. A long time ago, I could take down an entire platoon of enemies by myself with just one gun."

It's true. Before Isaac became a State Alchemist in Amestris, he could wipe out an entire platoon of enemy troops with just a gun.

Of course, you can wipe out a company without a gun. Back then, Isaac didn't believe in such things and always had to take a gun when he went to the battlefield. As a result, he ran out of bullets and didn't see even one enemy soldier fall.

His condition only improved after he recklessly experimented with human transmutation and lost sight in one eye, which led to him receiving a mechanical eye.

"In short, now there is only one enemy left."

“I don’t consider them enemies, which makes me feel incredibly cheap,” Isaac said, kicking open the front door.

boom!

The door flew out, startling the person inside who was still on the phone.

"You...you all..."

“We’re fine. Shall we wait until you finish your call?” Dutch laughed.

The office layout resembled a German command post during World War II, with a swastika flag hanging on the wall behind him—it was utterly tacky.

Just then, a voice seemed to come from the phone. The person's expression changed instantly, and he handed the phone to Dutch and the others.

"He... wants to speak with you."

"Ok?"

Chapter 604: Racist Idiot

Are you looking for us?

Isaac walked over and pressed the speakerphone button. He glanced at Dutch, gesturing for him to speak to the other person.

Dutch nodded, walked to the telephone, and said:

"So you're their leader? Your men are a bunch of useless bastards."

"Hahaha, I've made a fool of myself."

An elderly person's voice came through the phone; just from the voice, one could imagine that it was a kind-looking old man.

"I have two questions for you."

"Are you asking about that painting?" the old man on the other end of the phone asked.

“Yes, I’ve heard some rumors about this painting,” Dutch said. “Besides the usual explanation, there’s another particular one.”

"It seems you know quite a lot."

"Rumor has it that the painting was not painted by that unknown painter named Yanko, but by Adolf Hitler himself, who was of Bohemian origin."

These words surprised the people in the room.

Hitler's paintings, putting everything else aside, would have sold for more than ten times the price they are now.

Isaac scoffed at this explanation.

It is well known that Hitler was a landscape painter during his impoverished period as an artist, and this painting of Brunhilde leading the Twelve Horsemen is definitely not his work.

The voice on the phone was silent for a moment, then laughed and said, "Speaking of the Führer as a painter, he was just an insignificant landscape painter. What's memorable is that back then, when that SS lieutenant colonel heard this fabricated news, he was so excited that he was preparing to go to Batavia with the submarine."

"I see. So what you wanted wasn't the painting itself, but a secret hidden within it," Dutch said. "Next question, you're the Spanish shareholder who commissioned me, aren't you?"

“…That’s right. I’m the one who commissioned you to do the salvage operation, and I’m also the one who directed this group to attack you.” The old man laughed. “After all, what I wanted to see was a conflict between the two of you.”

"What!?"

Before Dutch and Levi could speak, the ship's commander could no longer sit still.

He never imagined that the person who assigned him the task of eliminating the enemy and stealing the painting was also the superior of the group of 'tomb raiders'.

"It's just a pleasant way to balance testing and insurance, and besides..." The old man on the other end of the phone sat on the sofa in his villa, looking up at the starry sky outside the window, "that's a long-forgotten past."

"Ok?"

"When Heydrich made the 'final decision,' we swore an oath together at Lake Versailles: 'We would rather be guardians of reality than dreamers who believe in victory.' At that time, we consolidated our funds and created account files signed by all of us. When the Soviet Union attacked this area, we hid the files in paintings and fled around."

"So, this painting is one of the ones you've been keeping in your archives, right?"

"You have a sharp eye, you black kid."

"How rude of you, you old white man."

"A conversation rife with racism," Isaac shook his head.

He also knew the name of the current team—the White Socialist Solidarity Party—and just hearing the name made him think that these people must have water in their brains.

It's not hard to understand why the old man on the phone could become the leader of this group.

Dutch looked at the phone with some displeasure and said, "If you piss me off, I'll throw that painting into the sea right now."

“That’s not necessary. Now that I’ve found it, I just want to take it back,” the old man chuckled. “We’re economically successful now, but what about you? What will happen if you break your promise to the Black Reef Chamber of Commerce?”

“Although I’m very reluctant to admit it, well…” Dutch sighed helplessly, “just as you said.”

"Very intelligent, it's such a shame he's Black."

Throughout, his tone carried the air of a victor.

"His credibility won't be damaged, old man."

"Ok?"

Isaac, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up.

"From your story, I can roughly guess your identity. You're a former member of the SS General Staff of the Third Reich, right?"

"Hahaha, that's right. Who are you? An employee of the Black Reef Merchant Guild?"