Mrs. Young's heart lurched, her wounds causing such intense pain that her consciousness became muddled, yet... she maintained a sliver of clarity, knowing she absolutely couldn't reveal everything to Dylan Young right now.
Her voice quivered, "I don't have anything, I... I've told you... all my trump cards."
Dylan Young responded with disdain, "If that's the case... then, there's no need for us to continue this discussion. Keep your Nirvana for yourself and see if you can take it with you after you die."
Dylan Young didn't linger any longer, turning to leave.
At that moment, Mrs. Young panicked, "Dylan, Dylan... wait, wait..."
"I think there's probably nothing left for us to discuss."
"There is... there is, we can talk, Dylan... don't leave just yet, I... promise you, as long as you... can rescue me, I'll tell you all my secrets."
Dylan turned back, "How do I know what you're saying is true?"
