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

Wintertime in the Northern Territory, the nights always stretch endlessly long. From afar, Durin has the Mage Hand send all the prepared dishes to the dining table at once.


Duke Alessandro sits at the table, having declined several times, but he is still seated at the head by Durin's insistence.


By then, Reed had already lit the candlesticks. The centerpiece, a sterling silver candlestick, is exquisitely crafted with a rectangular base shaped like rolling waves, with detailed foamy crests in silver. The candle pillars rise in a double helix structure, entwined with silver grapevines, even featuring openwork leaf veins.


At the base of the stand, a line reads—"I am trapped in a purgatory named loyalty."


Chapter 324: A Modest Family Feast