I could swallow the last unspoken words of the deceased.
Some people want to say "Don't leave" before they die, and the ferry will trap all those who leave their hometown; some people want to say "Give me back" before they die, and the winners on the battlefield will fight each other; some people want to say "I want to live" before they die, and the whole city will start to fear death.
Master told me to swallow them and save people.
She didn't tell me that with every last word I swallowed, I would forget a memory of being loved.
When I swallowed the ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine last words for her, I finally remembered: She knew from the beginning that I would forget her.
She still chose to let me go.
