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

"How can one sit still after hearing such news?"


As soon as Secretary Sora got off the car, he called over the responsible police chief.


"The whole family's dead. Around noon, the regular players of the Chang Tang brand saw Ross Hopper's eldest son, the old dog. He returned home at about 4:25 p.m., a neighbor saw him. They didn't show up to play cards in the evening. When his card-playing friends went to look for him, that's when they discovered the problem."


"There shouldn't be any silencers faster than our response, it must have been planned," Old Enrique analyzed.


Durin also nodded, "What about the eldest son of Ross Hopper's card-playing friends?"


Durin's face was quite recognizable in Northern Doctrine, and without another word, the chief turned and called over three middle-aged men with forlorn expressions.


Chapter 180: Good Idea