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

Durin led the girls away from the dining hall, and as they walked up the steps, he turned his head to look at Lan En and Yala.


"See, if I show my face at the restaurant for dinner each evening, the soldiers get to have some meat in their soup, and there won't be so much sawdust in the bread. And the little ones of Nicolas can voice their complaints boldly and openly."


"It's just that you're kind, Lord Durin, and don't want them to suffer," Lan En said with a smile.


"Kind? I just can't stand it when those Forest Masters embezzle even the meager funds for provisions. I think his name was Hyderich, right? I heard his kid died yesterday. They say it was a night raid by the Green-skinned Orcs. Useless, utterly useless—they couldn't even protect their own lord." Durin said this, then looked towards Yala, seemingly awaiting her response.


To this, Yala shook her head: "How he died, we can no longer ascertain, Lord Durin…"


Chapter 46: A Speck