"But I don't see what this has to do with me." Abbot's tone was sharp, his expression sour. "They got sick on their own. What's that got to do with me? Is this your reason for wanting me to stop my research?"
Shen Lang glanced at him coolly and said flatly, "...Just keep watching."
The young boy struggled to push his wheels forward, a glistening tear welling in the corner of his eye.
He was clearly distraught and frustrated, to the point that even his wheelchair was trembling.
Abruptly, he slammed his fist on the armrest.
Just then, a clean-cut teenager walked out of a nearby room. His expression changed the moment he saw the boy's state, and he rushed over.
"Anna, don't be like this. What do you need? To use the restroom? I'll take you, let me help you..."
The boy in the wheelchair, Anna, didn't move. To be precise, he *couldn't* move. He let the slender boy behind him push his wheelchair.
He suddenly said, "...Don't want...restroom... Want...to go out...in the sun."
