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 night deepened, and after a day's business had ended and most of the guests had departed, Negan Lovar twirled his beard and then glanced at Marilyn behind the counter, "What do you all think of Sigmund Freud?"


The elderly woman behind the counter smiled, "He's certainly not the age he appears to be. How should I put it, like a true gentleman, the kind that devours without spitting out the bones. If I had been by his side when I was younger, I might have fallen for him."


"My dear sister, he's legendary." Old Kariou, who had sobered up by now, was sitting on the side drinking orange juice and laughed heartily, "Honestly, I've never been as happy as I am today. Compared to this fellow, I hardly seem like a film buff of Lord Durin."


"Stop talking about your films, you don't even seem like a necromancer anymore, old Kariou, what did you see?"


Chapter 190: Masterpiece