Half-step Purgatory

Durin stroked the black cat on the armrest of his chair, sitting on the black leather sofa. Through the glasses perched on his nose, his gaze passed over the long table in front of him and settled on the man kneeling on the carpet:
"I understand, you've made money in Naples, your business has been very successful, and you've led a happy life. You've had those secret police, friends in both the law and the underground, and even the Royal Family speaking on your behalf."
"You don't need a friend like me, I know that. You're afraid of owing me a favor, and you don't want to get involved in troubles."
"But now you come to me and say, 'I beg you, Mr. Durin of the Corleon family, please help me seek justice, so that my life and my family will not suffer and sink into despair.'
Yet, in your eyes, I was nothing more than a second-rate artist involved in movies and music. Even at the brink of death, you still show me such disrespect, not even willing to call me by my title... Keeper of Secrets."

Durin's Diary

Time was never enough, and that was Durin's sole thought after waking up.


The weekend vanished in the blink of an eye as always, with Durin only recalling the endless pressing matters and innumerable foes yet to defeat; yet, not a single moment of joy was to be found.


I want to run on the beach with young girls, chasing the fleeting youth; I want to make films, searching for the lost dreams.


Unfortunately, being reborn as a thirteen-year-old in another world, I ended up with no such luck, only to experience once more the drudgery of corporate servitude.


"What a pity, such is life," Big Orange rarely popped out of Durin's body, and after the little guy finished musing, it brought some good news to Durin, "I devoured that batch of Origin Force, and now you have one free attribute point."


"That's it?" Durin was somewhat curious.


Chapter 40: A New Week, a New Beginning