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

Last time I visited the morgue, Durin was still young, and the basement of the Military Intelligence Bureau of the Northern Kingdom was terribly cold. The followers of Yeager had tattoos on their foreheads and also had their heads shaved clean.


Unfortunately, things change and people come and go. Now, Durin is visiting as the former head of the Savoy Intelligence Bureau. The bald Paul Orof looked at Durin as if seeing his own father in the Endless Plains, and was incredibly affectionate.


After seeing Durin's letter of recommendation and confirming that Durin was there to examine the assassin's body, he personally escorted Durin through five checkpoints, descending to the morgue.


Like the Military Intelligence Bureau, Savoy also had several small rooms storing various strange artifacts.


Seeing Durin's curiosity, the old director immediately began to introduce them one by one.


Chapter 343: Wanting to Speak but Stopping