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

Exiting the cinema, Pool noticed his hands, which were struggling, trembling.


My brother, he made a film for the ages!


The excited journalist from the Farol Revolutionary Pioneer was writing a piece so quickly that it was full of typos.


"Comrade Pool, it's extraordinary, this is the true spirit of rebellion." He spoke to Pool at breakneck speed while his scaly tail whipped about frantically like those of the Ganai, "It's incredible, I never imagined the future could be so terrifying, nor did I imagine that in such a terrifying future, the spirit of rebellion would remain uncrushed."


His assistant was still staring at the enormous poster on the wall, "I finally understand what it means to 'turn my wretched body into a blazing fire' on the poster. The moment Mr. Rick picked up that bag of explosives, my whole perception of him changed."


"He became a brave man from an ordinary one," Pool sighed.


Chapter 132: There Are Philosophers of Their Own