Corpse

"Old Xu, hurry up."

"I'm number one, I'm number one."

"Space yourselves. If we run into each other, it'll be really bad."

Several men who were like Corgis and kept dogs either leaned against their crutches or held the handles of the corridor, and they still attempted to race as they limped together.

Beside them, their physiotherapist had an expression as if he just screwed a dog. While he watched helplessly as they competed, he had to follow and pay attention to them lest someone really fell.

Old Xu was still in a wheelchair, pushing himself to move while on wheels. He moved in front of a familiar looking physiotherapist and asked, "They just finished their surgery, is racing really okay?"