Black Sail

Taylor was so fucking scared he couldn’t have possibly bitten off more than he could chew; you have to take it slow.

But the more Taylor looked at Liszt, the more he liked him, growing increasingly appreciative. Truly a motherfucking son-in-law on a Dragon.

Still, a point of caution was necessary.

"No, we’re investing; we’ve all been friends for so many years," Doringger naturally wouldn’t shortchange us.

Now Taylor was playing the peacemaker. It didn’t matter who was Boss; making money was the golden rule. Doringger had already acknowledged the loss, so there was no need to further escalate the situation. It was fine as long as there was meat for everyone to eat.

But that didn’t mean he was suggesting giving Doringger money, just that Liszt should take back his words. Doringger’s massive bleeding out was enough; to those in the power center of Heaven Port, he would certainly throw them a big piece of the pie.

But Taylor didn’t know what was going on with Liszt.

Doringger must die! Otherwise, Liszt couldn’t live!

Doringger gave a signal to his men; there were some things he couldn’t say.

Now Liszt was really dancing in a minefield, shaking the foundation of Doringger.

"Territorial division? I didn’t catch your meaning."