After the emergency reattachment surgery failed, half his foot was finally put back in place, though it would need at least several months to recover.
After this person woke up, everyone was relieved to find that he had not noticed the medical accident for the time being. He merely assumed his foot had been injured by the impact of the fall.
It was the same familiar questions, the same familiar answers.
The difference was that, in the end, he did not ask to sleep. Instead, he demanded to leave this place as soon as possible.
"I need to find my companions. I need to explore this world immediately and see whether it's really real," he told everyone.
"We're confused. What do you mean, real or not real? What exactly are you talking about?" the director of the hospital asked strangely.
"We just destroyed an illusory place. We need to determine whether the place we've come to is a real one," the Meteorite Person repeated.
"I still don't understand. This place is real. You're not dreaming. It would hurt if I bit my own hand, and it would hurt if you bit yours too," the director said firmly.
"In dreams, biting your hand hurts too." The Meteorite Person spoke as he tried to get off the operating table.
Naturally, that was impossible. His foot was still being set in plaster, and everyone hurriedly held him down.
"If you want to investigate, you can leave the investigation to us. Heal your injury first," the director comforted him.
"You? Fine, but do you know how to investigate whether a world is real?"
"No. Please impart the technique," the director said, finally revealing his true intentions.
I'm lousy. If you want to use me, you have to make me less lousy.
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