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 old man arrived at the Air Force base by himself in an army vehicle.


He had heard that the discussions Durin had with the military that morning had given the army significant insights. So, he came to the base to see if his descendant could also bring something impressive to the Air Force.


As he got out of the car and approached the driver, the old man handed him a cigarette. "Thanks, buddy."


"Marshal, why are you being so polite?" the driver replied with a smile.


"I'm no longer a marshal," the old man said with a chuckle.


"But to us old folks, you'll always be the marshal. You led us into battle; we remember that." As he spoke, the driver lit the old marshal's cigarette with his lighter.


Just as he was about to light his own cigarette, a very loud noise erupted above them.


They both looked up to the sky together.


In the high sky, they saw a drop of water flying.


Chapter 6: Toasting to the Monarch