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

·Why, in our eyes, are you so benevolent?


"I just don't want this land to suffer again a hundred years later. I want siblings not to draw swords against each other anymore. I want demons and devils not to roam freely, and I want hatred not to continue forever… So, someone has to do these things. A man like me, with no father or son, is most suited for the task." As he said this, Durin curled up on the lounge chair, the night in Foresty Land carried a hint of chill.


Chapter 227: Power and Responsibility