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

On the streets below, cars abandoned long ago by the march of time were rusted vestiges, their frames now just rust-stained shells.


In such a vast city, the streets must have once been filled with ceaseless crowds and the clamor of bustling traffic would surely have been lively to the older generation.


But at this moment, such beauty had long since faded with time into nothingness.


"Child, come with me, become No-name, and you must serve the ideals and beliefs you have established." He walked down from the ruins; the old man had a nimbleness that didn't match his appearance or shell, truly worthy of the most powerful God.


Durin followed him into a building that was left with only one floor.


This must have been a shopping center; as soon as he entered, Durin saw a plethora of shops, their doors and windows all broken, skeletons piled up, covering the entire floor.


Chapter 265: Belief