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

"Durin! Are the figures on the screen Detectives Holmes and Doctor Watson?"


The juniors in the audience asked in surprise.


"Before movies were invented, detectives and doctors only existed in our minds. Every reader had their own unique versions of them, but today, I have brought the detective and doctor to the big screen with an imaging device. This is how I envision them," Durin said.


On the screen, Holmes and Watson began to smile. Watson emerged from a closet behind him, carrying two cups and a bottle of brandy.


When Holmes spoke about the brandy's origin with a lowland accent from Sidney, and Doctor Watson toasted with a highland dialect of the Northern Kingdom, the young juniors in the audience completely lost it with laughter.


The senior girls all held their faces in their hands—after all, Durin's casting was impeccable, the faces of the detective and the doctor were flawless.


Chapter 109: The Ways of Using Art_2