Black Sail

From the look of Taylor’s office, it was clear he was self-made, favoring functionality without any pretensions of elegance.

Though he didn’t manage countless affairs daily, a lot still passed through his hands, leaving him no downtime.

He was a maturely handsome man; even with streaks of grey at his temples and wearing a black eye patch over one blinded eye, the strong family genes were still apparent. Despite his disability, his handsomeness was undiminished. His natural authority and the chilling aura he emitted gave off the air of a formidable kingpin.

The atmosphere in the space was extremely oppressive.

Fen didn’t know what game Liszt was playing by having him sit in the guest seat, with Liszt himself on a lower sofa to the side, which placed him even further from Taylor.

When Liszt said he wasn’t afraid, that was obviously a lie. Anyone who got involved with the daughter of a big shot from Heaven Port would be scared after the fact, and Liszt was just putting up a brave front.

The island’s outsiders boasted cruelty, thieves with gold belts who killed and set fires, but ultimately, they were nothing more than pirates with broken ships. When the naval frigates appeared, cannons bristling, they’d run like dogs.

But the man in the room was capable of going head to head with the navy without flinching, captaining the infamous Rolls-Royce.

Taylor’s icy gaze passed over Fen and fixated on Liszt on the sofa. This caveman had taken shamelessness to the extreme, using his own first officer as a shield. But in a way, it was good—it showed he was still afraid.

Of course, Taylor had heard about the incident in the frozen meat warehouse; nothing on the island escaped his notice.

The kid had indeed made it big, with a bunch of capable people under him. Taylor himself had thought about poaching a few of his key members. With such a team, big things could be accomplished. Apart from one drunkard who always caused trouble on the island, Black Sail was now quite poised to dominate all pirate gangs.