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

Upon listening, Durin could only feel that in this world, irrelevant of east or west, irrespective of past and future, regardless of success or failure, every family has its own hard-to-recite scripture.


Eleven's world could escape gravity; fleets representing civilization could find wormholes, and could even establish colonies and ecosystems far from Earth's civilization. Here, scientists treated life as if it were putty, to be shaped and molded at will.


But hearts differ, and in the Eastern Land, beings of the same kind created the Candle Dragon and the Grassland Elves, who could assist the scientists in their work; the scientists in Europe created the Orcish Kind, some of whom resembled humans with only animal ears and tails, while others looked more like beasts, treated like lab rats, manipulated at will.


Chapter 310: Trivial Matters