Three days later, Avery, her skin darkened for disguise, hurriedly stepped into a small clinic and saw Noah lying on the bed.
The young man on the bed was only 15 or 16 years old. He was very thin, his skin was pale, and he looked sickly. When he saw her come in, he revealed a kind expression that did not match his age. "Avery." "Mr. Noah-" When Avery saw how sick Noah was, her nose somewhat twitched. She quickly walked over and sat in front of his bed. "I've already seen your medical report. You're so sick. Why didn't you contact me?"
The medical report showed that Noah's brain had a tumor. It was very serious and almost incurable. Normally speaking, anyone who was so sick was basically sentenced to death by fate.
Noah sighed slightly and said in a calm voice, "I chose this place to find a new body because there has just been a war here. It's easy to find a dying person or a vegetative person.
