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 Lower District had plenty of fun places, but Durin truly had no idea what they were.


But Alice seemed to have a map etched in her mind as she led Durin first to a Changtangians pastry shop.


The shop wasn't big, less than ten square meters. The counter and shelves were filled with a variety of pastries, and Durin even spotted glutinous rice cakes cut into pieces and placed in large glass cups—made with sticky rice skin, sugar and sesame filling, a flavor so delightful that even after being reborn, Durin dared not forget.


After all, it was that glutinous rice cake the prosthetic cook at High Tower gave him when he first joined, a treat too delicious for him, who once languished in the orphanage, ever to have imagined.


Durin purchased some, and Alice was quite surprised, "This is what I consider the tastiest thing, Mr. Durin, haven't you never been here before? How did you know about it?"


Chapter 98: Hind