It was not easy to stay alive.
For the first time, Bowling President understood the cruelty of "survival" while suspended in midair.
In the past, he had thought that... those who described survival as unbearable suffering were usually people who had not worked hard enough themselves.
If they worked hard, they definitely would not be so helpless in the face of life.
But now, he understood.
Some things could not be solved through effort. If hard work could solve every problem in this world, then problems would not exist.
He gazed at the pale blue ceiling. Every breath brought a faint stab of pain, but this pain was far more bearable than what he had endured before.
The Special Medicine was truly effective. He could feel his body recovering, but what left him desperate was that he might not be able to hold on.
"Maybe... someone would be willing to help me pay this bill?"
He thought of a possibility. He had plenty of friends!
As the Federation's president, he had many friends among the capitalists and in the political world.
Everyone knew he was a good man. He had almost no enemies—at most, there were a few people who looked down on him. But he truly did not have many enemies.
The Chief Scientist still wore that calm expression. "Actually, I've already asked around. No one is willing to pay your subsequent expenses."
Bowling President was stunned. "I can talk to them personally."
When the last sliver of hope was about to be swallowed by despair, even that faint glow would shine like the sun! The Chief Scientist called many people for him. Most of them chatted for a few sentences after answering, said that money was a little tight lately, and hung up.
By the end, he had