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 next morning, Durin opened his eyes, only to find that he was the only dragon left in the room.


Durin got up, put on his robe, and opened the window.


He saw that the girls were talking about something in the garden below, while Big Orange and Eleven were discussing something inside the railing outside the window.


·I'm curious, brother Eleven, since vampires are an artificially created race developed to prolong life, why do they need to consume fresh blood? It seems irrational to me.


·They are the second generation of artificial races, the first being elves. High elves live to around two hundred years old, and those who break through to Legendary can live three to four hundred years, but that's nothing compared to vampires. Vampires have a 'genetic configuration' that guarantees a lifespan of at least five hundred years. They are independent of race, and you can use elves or humans as hosts.


Eleven's answer explained Big Orange's confusion well.


Chapter 322: Stealing a Fleeting Life