Black Sail

"What’s the date today?"

Liszt looked around at the people on the ship. His skin had regrown, and his hair followed suit, regenerating rapidly. Without batting an eye, he retrieved his money purse from the inarticulate Galen and also took the scimitar from his hands, grabbed his excessively grown hair in one hand, and chopped it off in one swift motion.

Then, he tossed it into the sea, as if it were trash.

Gazing at the charred corpse-like being that eerily restored its features was not even the strangest part.

Galen and the others also mingled on the seas, and it was important to keep up with current events. The portrait of a scar-faced visage had long been circulated far and wide—it wasn’t of some newcomer, but the Northern Border OG, the train robber master, the Boss of Heaven Port.

It is said that fortune is found in the most unexpected places, and indeed, who across the lands would not recognize such a figure?

You might not understand what it means to open a chest and find the East Sea King—what we usually refer to as hitting the jackpot.

Galen’s mind was racing on the slightly rocky sampan sailboat, sweat pouring down; he realized that this was a thousand times more astonishing than uncovering forty or fifty Golden Dragons.

"Mr. Li, we respect you so much!"

Galen, snapping to realization, blurted out his fanciful remark.

The other team members couldn’t help but find the face familiar, and after Galen’s reminder, they recognized him as well.