Excited as he was, Oscar knew he had to maintain his image. If he said or did anything that made Dugu Bo uncomfortable, the old man could simply kick him away with a single word.
After all, Oscar still didn't have the strength to contend with a Titled Douluo. Even if his teacher, Gai Yue, might exchange a few blows with Dugu Bo, it would only be a handful of moves at best.
The terror of a Titled Douluo wasn't something one could dismiss with words. Anyone who could stand at the pinnacle of the soul master world was anything but simple.
Though their casual conversation had already granted him what he most desired, Oscar still wanted to add some chips to the table.
The atmosphere was right. Looking at Dugu Bo's calm demeanor, he hesitated for a while before asking:
"Senior, have you never thought of removing the poison from yourself and from Dugu Yan? Not only does this poison bring immense harm to you, but for her as well—it must be an unbearable torment."
At once, the light-hearted mood froze. Dugu Bo's eyes grew dim, and Dugu Yan's face clouded with sadness.
"You are no less learned than I. Do you think, if I had a solution, I would still be like this?" Dugu Bo sighed. "But tell me, how did you know I, too, am plagued by this poison? I am a Titled Douluo—do you think I cannot control my own venom?"
By now, Dugu Bo wasn't surprised Oscar had seen through his secret. From their earlier talk, he already understood that the boy's knowledge rivaled his own.
He asked only to test Oscar, to see if the child knew his deepest secret about the poison's invasion.
Oscar simply smiled.
"I know Your Majesty is testing me. And I believe I've uncovered your secret. But if I speak it aloud… will that affect you?"
Dugu Bo froze, then glanced at Gai Yue perched on the giant tree. After a pause, he slowly said:
"Fate brought us together. Go on. But if you are right… I hope you can keep this secret. Otherwise, no matter how much I appreciate you, I will still…"
He left the sentence unfinished, but Oscar understood.
"Then allow me to risk analyzing it for you, Senior."
Dugu Bo gave a small nod, signaling him to continue. Dugu Yan, absentmindedly poking the fire with a twig, perked her ears to listen.
Oscar paused briefly, then spoke in a low voice:
"Your Majesty, whenever it rains or the skies are cloudy, you feel itching along both flanks, which gradually intensifies, don't you?"
At those words, Dugu Bo's pupils shrank. Just a few words—and Oscar had struck home.
Because what he said was completely accurate. Dugu Bo nodded slightly, and Oscar went on:
"This condition should flare twice a day—at noon and at midnight. In your current state, each episode must last for over an hour."
"And in the deep night, around the third watch, stabbing pains like needles strike your head and the soles of your feet. You convulse violently, your whole body in spasms, the agony lasting at least half an hour."
"That kind of suffering is something I can hardly imagine. Which is why I deduce that not only are you poisoned—you are poisoned down to the very marrow of your bones."
As he spoke, the light in Dugu Bo's eyes shifted from surprise to sorrow. Oscar had revealed his most guarded secret—his lifelong torment.
If not for his breakthrough into the Titled Douluo realm, he might have long ago perished in this agony.
Dugu Yan, listening in silence, saw that her grandfather did not deny it. A surge of grief and tragedy welled up inside her.
"Grandfather… why… why didn't you ever tell me? I thought my suffering was already unbearable… but you…" Her voice broke as tears streamed down her face, sobbing so hard she could no longer speak.
All her life, whenever she fell into bouts of poison, it was always Dugu Bo who comforted her, who soothed her pain. She thought her mighty grandfather could never know such torment himself.
Yet the truth was, his suffering was ten times worse.
Seeing his granddaughter cry like a rainstorm, Dugu Bo shot Oscar a glare. Then he gently pulled Dugu Yan into his arms, patting her back softly:
"Yanyan, you're a young lady now. Don't cry. This pain of mine is nothing. What truly pains me is you. If only I had a method to resolve this poison, you would never have had to endure it."
Watching the sudden wave of sorrow that swept over the grandfather and granddaughter, Oscar felt an unexpected empathy. From atop the giant tree, Gai Yue also cast Dugu Bo a deep, measuring look.
So even the famed Poison Douluo suffers like this? Truly, such is life. No matter how strong one becomes, everyone carries their pain.
Dugu Bo continued patting his granddaughter, speaking more to himself than to anyone else:
"Do you know what it is like for a child barely two or three years old to scream in agony for days and nights without sleep? To be too young to speak clearly, too young to even know the world—and already wracked by such torment?"
"I lived through it. But I dare not remember, because it was the most painful period of my life. To wield power that shakes the continent, yet be unable to solve this one thing… to watch my little granddaughter suffer every day…"
At his words, Oscar felt his eyes sting. Why was it that, when reading the original story, he had never felt such emotion?
But now, seeing this grandfather and granddaughter before him, hearing these heartbreaking words, he realized: Dugu Bo and Dugu Yan might well be among the most tragic souls on this continent.
And then there was his teacher, Gai Yue—his entire clan slaughtered when he was just a boy, the lone survivor among thousands. What kind of torment did he endure to keep going?
Compared to them, Oscar suddenly felt his own life had been blessed.
After a long silence, he finally said softly:
"Senior, you think I only possess a little knowledge? But I can see your problem clearly."
Dugu Bo, still stroking Dugu Yan's back with eyes full of tenderness, at first didn't react.
Then his expression froze. He turned to Oscar, eyes filled with shock—and faint hope.
"What do you mean? Could it be… Do you have a way to resolve my and Yanyan's problem?"
But even as the words left his mouth, he chastised himself inwardly. Surely it was wishful thinking.
Yes, Oscar's knowledge had shocked him. But he himself had searched his whole life for a cure, without success. Could an eleven-year-old boy really hold the solution?