The masked man had just tried to destroy himself, but he had failed before Zhang Yu. Nor had it been of his own will; he had been driven by a force rooted in his body. After failing, he made no further attempts.
Zhang Yu delved into his mind and soon saw a stretch of memories. Every conversation the man had held since arriving at this tribe, every place he had visited, even every thought in his heart—all of it appeared with perfect clarity, clearer even than the man himself remembered.
Yet strangely, these memories extended back only a little over a month—more precisely, thirty-seven days. His memories came to an abrupt end on that day, as though they had reached their boundary, and everything before that simply did not exist.
For a normal person, it was impossible to emerge from nothing without a past. These memories had likely been deliberately erased.
Zhang Yu's expression did not change much at this sight. In the past, he might have had to stop here. But now, as his cultivation and mastery had advanced, so too had his methods. He had many ways to verify this.
Even if the memories in this man's mind had come to an end, his body remained.
So long as a person existed in this world, they were bound to leave traces behind. No matter how brief or insignificant a life might be, it had once existed between heaven and earth and taken part in the workings of all things. Such traces could not be easily erased.
Unless some great power of the upper realm had shielded him. But if that were truly the case, Zhang Yu would never have been able to investigate this far, much less come into contact with him.
Looking from this angle, he soon