Weber nodded.
"I've been pondering a question: Professor Yang has won the Nobel Prize twice, and published so many significant papers. Such achievements would be a lifetime's pride for anyone, yet he seems completely unfazed. It's hard for me to comprehend—what does he want?"
Weber put his glasses back on, looking at M7, who was lying inside the cage, kicking the red soccer ball with its hind legs, intently, over and over.
"Perhaps it's a different realm of understanding. Those things you mentioned might appear ordinary in his eyes, just like the objects monkeys adore hold no allure for humans." Fritz thought for a moment and replied seriously.
Weber's eyebrows immediately furrowed: "Fritz, are you implying that I'm the monkey and Professor Yang is the human?"
Fritz immediately realized that his words inadvertently seemed to insult Professor Weber and quickly corrected himself: "No, Professor Weber, you've misunderstood; that wasn't my intention, I was merely using a metaphor."
