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 was actually being counterproductive.


Because the one who took action was indeed Melinda's apprentice, the girl had a natural talent. Before Melinda had formally taken her as an apprentice, she had been assigned here because she needed to perform long-range shooting to progress.


Therefore, all the dishes Durin reported were fake.


The two AIs had never seen someone as uncooperative and mischievous as Durin.


I've said I like cooperating with the police, but I swear I must cooperate with the police.


Durin complained while looking at old Royce, who splurged on a whole fruit and now, clutching his stomach, he ran toward a nearby store.


"Did he get a stomachache?" Another red-haired chief was curious.


Chapter 132: All Business