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

After helping the soldiers on this line of defense ward off the Green-skinned Orcs' charge, Durin returned to the rear and immediately reported the situation to Tegus—the Foresty Land army was a hodgepodge, from three-meter-tall Southern Giants to meter-and-two-tall kittens, every race required a different type of firearm.


An army with thirteen different calibers of guns? That could only happen in Foresty Land. If anyone dared do this in Austria-Switzerland, Durin would certainly break every limb of theirs.


But Tegus expressed his helplessness—Foresty Land had its own national conditions. The various races on this land acknowledged no other's authority, like the Yak Race, who had frequent conflicts with Tegus over water, and would fight viciously over it until their brains burst. Only when faced with the invasion of the Green-skinned Orcs could they become united in purpose.


This left Durin with nowhere to express his criticism.


Chapter 40: Choice