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 exactly are green-skinned orcs born?" Another night after dinner, Durin stood atop the high tower, watching the orc camp bathed in the sunset glow.


These days, he had inspected many orc corpses to understand their anatomy and conducted various dissections of these creatures.


Green skin, ferociously ugly faces, and large protruding tusks.


These were the outward appearances of the green-skinned orcs.


"Eleven, are the Europeans you talk about out of their minds, what's the point of creating such hideously ugly mining artificial life forms? Shouldn't everything be fully automated?"


Durin had asked Eleven this question while standing in front of the operating table.


Then Eleven's answer gave Durin a profound understanding of cruelty.


·Because artificial life in our time is already a very cheap existence, cheaper than mining machines.


Chapter 53: Discovery