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

The brats were stuffed and made extra effort in their training.


After all, the food Durin personally arranged was especially abundant—with meat, animal fat, carbs, salt, and even two pieces of candy every day.


Why two, because if they were only given one, these kids would definitely hide it to take home to their younger siblings—in fact, when only one piece of candy was given out on the first day, not a single candy wrapper could be found in the trash cans throughout the entire camp.


It was Lord Durin who stopped the Foresty Land constables from making a surprise move.


What's the point of hanging up a young person and beating them for a piece of candy, better to give two.


And the actual effect was very good, knowing that they had two pieces of candy every day, the young brats would eat one and save one.


Chapter 1: Daily Life at the Training Camp (1)