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

People at the God of Destiny Church were just stabbed, and then within a day, like squeezing a pustule, there were thirteen attacks targeted at various churches. The whole Western Lands were thrown into chaos, and Durin was so frightened that he sat at the Eternal Blaze Nest all day, fearing he might be mistaken for someone else.


It's not that he's cowardly, but with such a big killing happening, if he did some unmentionable deeds outside, what would happen if the God of Destiny Church wanted Durin to explain himself?


He certainly couldn't tell them––on the day your people died, I went out and chopped a few unlucky guys; sorry, I can't say who they were.


How could he, especially since it really wasn't Durin who killed them––in other words, if it really was Durin who did the slaughtering, he would admit it outright, daring the God of Destiny to retaliate.


But Durin would absolutely not bear the brunt of the blame for someone else, whoever that might be, really.


Chapter 334: The Year of Turmoil