Chapter 718: Chapter 320: Got Dunked On_2
Bailey looked at the number of visitors on Silver Island—there must’ve been at least eight hundred if not a thousand—and thought to himself before saying seriously, “They’re making more money in a day than robbing a bank!”
“Let’s go check out other places. I still need to take more photos and just act like a normal tourist,” Allen Zhang cautioned, and then he and Old Jack headed to another rainforest area.
As soon as they arrived, they saw the Gewu Guerrilla’s tents, several jolly Cubans were sitting there drinking coffee, and a German man in a suit and mustache was keeping accounts in a notebook, with people lining up to exchange their silver coins for cash. Each person’s face was brimming with the joy of getting something for nothing.
Allen gestured for Bailey to go over and chat with them. Bailey approached a middle-aged couple and asked about their finds.
“Not bad. The island just had a low tide, and many hidden treasure spots in the rainforest got washed out. We even found a chest filled with silver coins,” the middle-aged traveler enthusiastically showed off their treasure, which looked like a modern craft.
Upon opening it, the chest was filled with dry mud and several dust-coated silver coins.
Bailey gave them a meaningful look. How come this stuff looks so fake?
“Are you American? Is this your first time here?” The middle-aged couple struck up a conversation.
“That’s right. My friend and I learned about Silver Island online and have always wanted to come see it for ourselves. So, taking advantage of the holiday, we just decided to fly over for a visit,” Bailey replied.
“That’s wonderful; we’re from Cuba and here for tourism as well.”
After some light-hearted banter, when it was the couple’s turn in the queue, Bailey greeted them and then returned to the General Sect Leader’s side.
“Boss, I feel like all these people are shills they’ve hired.”
Bailey couldn’t help but complain in a low voice, “That chest is obviously a modern artifact. Maybe the guerrillas buried it in a hole they dug at night. How can a tide wash out a wooden chest buried underground? Do they think there was a flood? With shipwrecks from the 18th century, after more than two hundred years, the wood should’ve rotted away. How could it still be so well preserved? It’s clearly fake at first glance!”
“Everything on this island is fake, except the people; all are meant to deceive. Our tickets might as well have been free,” Bailey said, exasperated.
“I don’t see it that way. There definitely are silver coins and gold coins here, but ordinary people simply can’t find where they are buried, unless they turn the whole island upside down. But that’s a huge task. Without an investment of several hundred million dollars, no one can do it. It’s completely not worth it,” Allen laughed.
Even blowing up a building costs millions, let alone blowing up a mountain. What if it shatters the silver coins?
He continued, “Hand me the equipment; I’m going to take a look in the rainforest with Old Jack.”
Bailey immediately handed over the military shovel, metal detector, and head-mounted helmet to the General Sect Leader. Allen called Old Jack, switched into rubber shoes, and the two went into the rainforest.
It was sunny outside, but the rainforest was damp and sweltering with densely packed foliage, suffocatingly hot.
Allen took out his phone to check the treasure’s location and started walking towards it based on the current coordinates. After about fifteen minutes, Old Jack’s device suddenly started to beep.
Looking back at a rotten wooden stump big enough for two people to hug, Old Jack tried digging with the military shovel and struck mud mixed with freshwater from underground, seeping through the roots and decaying leaves.
Old Jack noticed the water swirling around as if it was blocked by something or there were stones. He immediately got interested, rolled up his sleeves ready to dig vigorously, but before he even started, there was a clang, and he hit something hard.
Old Jack scraped around and, with a suspicious tug, fished out an aluminum foil alloy tin and dropped it on the ground. Inside were a few scattered silver coins.
He was speechless. Was it really that easy to dig up silver coins?
“Could their fakes be any more obvious?” Old Jack sighed, his initial excitement instantly extinguished.
“Don’t say that. This island is only so big, and there are at least hundreds of thousands of silver coins and tens of thousands of gold coins. You could find silver coins just by randomly stepping around.”
Allen joked, “They’ve given you emotional value, how could you say they’re faking it?”
After examining the aluminum box—Yeah, it’s freaking a WWII spam can!
Oh my bearded ancestor, time travel! WWII soldiers have traveled back to the 18th century to bury silver coins and aluminum cans here!
Truly one of the world’s eight wonders!
Even though Old Jack said that, he still picked up a few mud-coated silver coins, cleaned them off, and pocketed them, “Why not take them if they’re free? They have to give me at least a dozen dollars for recycling them!”
These silver coins were old performers; who knows how many hands they’ve passed through.
With the management style of this island, the guests dig up and they rebury the silver coins here, waiting for the next original person to come along. You wouldn’t doubt even if they said millions of silver coins got dug up! It’s an endless silver mine.