A.M. did not wait for an answer and simply continued.
"Everyone who entered that sea came back carrying something, each different." His gaze lingered on Lu Yuan. "For example, that clump of resentment you brought out of that sea, the one that has been following you ever since."
He raised a hand, palm upward.
A clear droplet of liquid formed out of thin air above his palm, hovering without falling. A faint glow swirled within it.
"Or this of mine."
A.M. closed his hand, and the droplet vanished with it.
"But that thing of yours is basically harmless to you." A.M. leaned back in his chair again, his hands folded on his knees. "I can only say 'basically.' For the rest, watch yourself. And here's one more free reminder: unless you enter the Sea of Knowledge again, that kind of thing cannot be washed away or erased."
Lu Yuan lowered his eyes, and the stone that had been hanging over his heart quietly dropped halfway.
What he had feared was never that the Drowner would harm him right now. The Gray-White Text had made it clear: for the time being, it was only parasitizing him, and its so-called changes had yet to manifest in any concrete way.
He had only asked this question to see whether there was any truth in A.M.'s words.
After all, Lu Yuan was absolutely wary of this so-called Forbidden Society. Trust? That did not exist—at least not after A.M. had dragged him into declaring an oath, and after he had seen that existence bound by chains.
Lu Yuan simply did not believe the Forbidden Society could be anything good.
He kept the third question on the tip of his tongue and did not ask it.
There was still far too much he wanted to know.