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 Teleportation Gate vanished before Durin stepped in.


Durin looked at the Teleportation Gate opened on the other side of the factory floor, falling silent as he met the gaze of the old man stepping out of it.


The Divine Envoy of the God of Destiny, the old wanderer Porter stood there, his face filled with regret and confusion, but devoid of any hesitation.


"Respected Sir Durin, please hand over the soul of this young man to me. He is a follower of the God of Destiny."


Durin smiled lightly, lifting his bony hand with the pure white soul held within.


·Let him give me an answer, and I'll let him go.


"Sir Durin, he has his duties to fulfill, just like Mr. Royce has his end to face. Destiny spares no one, please understand," old Porter extended his hand towards Durin.


Chapter 330: The Flood