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 next morning, Su came back, wearing the thick leather overalls common among the children of Foresty Land.


Her old shirt had also been replaced with a black-and-white checkered shirt that was very popular in Austria-Switzerland.


Her shoes were one size too large, but they were tied tightly, fitting quite well. Children grow fast, so one size wouldn't be too big for long.


"A kind-hearted human gentleman gave them to me," the kitten said, sizing up Durin. "Lord, the gentleman was very kind. He didn't even take my money."


Durin smiled and patted the child's head—she was young and didn't understand that there was something called investment.


But there was nothing to be done about it; a child like her simply couldn't understand.


It didn't matter, though. Some people wanted to extend kindness, some wanted to invest early—it was all the same.


Chapter 47: Intuition