Although every step he took was terribly shaky and fraught with great difficulty, he had indeed managed to stand!
Countless fine beads of perspiration formed on his forehead.
Lily was helping him up at the side. "You have only just recovered, you mustn't overdo it. Go back and lie down after another two steps!"
"Heh, only weak people wouldn't be able to get up and walk around immediately after they recover. Don't forget that I was the third-best fighter in the martial arts scene in New York before I got hurt!"
Quentin was clearly so tired that even his voice had become weak, but the things he said were still as stubborn and competitive as before.
Lily's lip corners spasmed. "Fine, you're the third-best fighter in the world, okay? Even so, you still have to rest more!"
"… I'll walk another round."
Quentin, who refused to listen, continued to move about. Then, he said, "You don't know how tired of lying in bed I've been all this time!"
