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

Staring out the window, Romiel was utterly bored.


I had been living in this dungeon for over half a year. My mother came to see me once; beyond that, no one else did.


"Romiel, it's time to go," a guard opened the door.


That hot shower they gave me last night, a razor, a decent meal—hell, they didn't even clamp on the shackles... I guess that was their way of saying goodbye.


Damn it, if I were afraid of dying, I wouldn't be a son of the Kriegren family!


Straightening my collar, Romiel followed the guard out of the dungeon.


All the cells on both sides were filled with curious eyes; they all knew that the half-blood locked up in the innermost single cell bore the Kriegren surname.


Hmph, I have nothing to say to you thieves. I'll head down to Hell first! But I'll be waiting at the gates for you bastards.


Chapter 146: New Toy