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

Before the car had come to a stop, Melissa had already seen the Bell Tower ahead reduced to ruins.


"The explosion was caused by explosives, right? Standard procedure of the Northern Doctrine. It seems to have gotten a bit out of hand this time," Old Royce lamented from the passenger seat.


After the car had stopped, the old man got out and opened the car door for Melissa.


The young, freckled lad from the National Security Bureau was inside the cordon at this time, but the Link kid was nowhere to be seen.


"I heard your unlucky apprentice got seriously injured again," Melissa said, looking at Old Royce.


Old Royce spread his hands, "The lad is lucky. The criminal this time was crazier than any Northerner, using thirty percent more explosives than in similar operations. He is blessed by No-name to have survived."


He had wanted to protect Link, the boy, because he was naive enough to think Sulem Forest was a nice place.


Chapter 127: Exchanging Opinions