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 Church's handling of the epidemic, in Durin's view, had no issues.


Firstly, upon discovering the flu, major churches immediately began monitoring the first group of sick people. Upon confirmation of the flu outbreak, the entire city was locked down—apart from a handful of cowards, even the nobles did not flee from the battle.


Moreover, unlike the ancient medicine of the Western Lands during the times of Eleven, they did not treat the patients with humoral theories involving bloodletting and inducing vomiting—everyone knows that the only outcome for patients treated this way is either an early death or a delayed one.


Chapter 290: Solution