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 instinctively felt sad. Although the brain before him once belonged to a prisoner—possibly one who had committed grave crimes, perhaps even deserving death—he had already died once when his brain was removed.


Fate had already inflicted the most severe punishment upon him, a period that far exceeded his imagination, so long that he had even forgotten the name that belonged to him.


His physical body was discarded, his name forgotten, and from that day on until today, he had only one name: prisoner 24890118042833.


"Tell me, prisoner, what is your mission?" Shiyi felt helpless and, after consulting with Durin, decided to use his authority.


"To watch over Warehouse No.111, recording all prototype deaths in time and sequence." The brain gave Durin an answer that was not surprising.


Durin turned to the Twilight Knight, "My lord, they are all prisoners, trapped here for a thousand years. Grant them freedom."


Chapter 163: Trembling