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

"How are you still sitting here playing around?"


The white-haired older man, known as the top figure in Shangjing, sat beside Durin, sipping his drink and curiously asked him.


Durin appeared indifferent, as this young man was obviously unaware of Durin's background. In his view, Durin was still young, yet had already reached a dead end, either to ascend to godhood or just to scrape by.


In his past life, even when Durin had grown old, he continued working as a cleaner. Killing was his only mastered talent and skill. Until the very end, he gambled his life to earn some money, completing a full circle in his life.


Durin had long gotten used to them in his past life.


So he just smiled, holding a small bottle of beer and clinking it with the young man: "Should I really put on a grim face and pray for blessings?"


Chapter 127: Shaking Killing Intent