"Dr. Hayes!"
Nathan Thorne lay on the bed, looking at Dr. Hayes with immense anxiety.
"You're not actually going to dissect me for research, are you?"
Dr. Hayes's face was originally expressionless, but after hearing Nathan's words, their expression suddenly became cryptic.
"Well, if you want me to—"
"I don't!" Nathan Thorne hurriedly shook his head. "I don't want that at all!"
Dr. Hayes reverted to their deadpan expression. "It wouldn't matter if you wanted to. I don't have that particular... fetish. Though I could find someone for you—"
"No, thanks! No, thanks!" Nathan Thorne finally relaxed. "I don't have that fetish either! I'm not done living yet!"
"Then shut up," Dr. Hayes said, a little impatiently. "I'm very busy. I don't have time to listen to your nonsense."
Nathan Thorne, who had been chattering nonstop just a moment ago, immediately clamped his mouth shut.
'It's not like I wanted to talk so much!'
'It's because I was scared, wasn't it?'
