Rover thought of the psychiatric hospital.
Thought of the side missions he had experienced before.
If the beings there had once been Lamp-Bearers, or had once been existences similar to John, then this world was even worse than he had imagined.
John shrugged.
"I don't want to wake up one day and discover I've become an NPC in another psychiatric hospital. I like smiling, but I don't like smiling the same way for several hundred years."
That sentence had the tone of a joke.
But no one laughed.
Rover was silent for a moment, then asked: "If I let you bet on me, what do I lose?"
John looked at him.
"Right now, you lose nothing obvious. The bet doesn't force you to submit to me, nor does it make you carry out tasks on my orders. It only creates a rules-based link between us. Within the bounds of what the lantern allows, I can provide information, warnings, even a little support. If you surpass level 5 and leave the dead zone, I'll follow you as your guide."
