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

Spiritual energy whispered in Durin's mind.


"Boss, is it still in time for me to write a will now?" The half-elf's ability to crack cold jokes was fully activated at this moment.


"It should still be in time. Even if that duke comes over now, he should need to fly for a while before he can kill us." The gnomes' ability to pick up the conversation was also second to none.


Although their words were teasing, their expressions were anything but relaxed, which made Durin realize that the sealed object indeed was a very dangerous thing.


And it looked like they also must have heard the spiritual whispers.


"Can you two guys pick up some human language?" Fischer put Durin down, his face flushed with embarrassment, and walked to the door to start roaring: "Why hasn't that Turin kid come back yet!"


Chapter 82: Predicament