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

Failing to find the cultists was somewhat disappointing for Durin, but at least there was some good news - you see, even Vili, an undead magic practitioner, looked down on cultists, describing them as penniless paupers without a dime to their name.


This proved that at least within civilized circles, cultists belonged to the bottom of the ecological niche, so despised that even the practitioners of undead magic scorned them.


You have to know, those who practice undead magic are also widely reviled, yet they looked down upon the cultists. This indirectly proved that Durin's actions over the years against trafficking had been very effective, seemingly dealing a heavy blow to the cultists' 'production and livelihood'.


Chapter 279: Luck