Giving him treatments

Ansel turned around to face Smith, whose eyes were wide with a startled expression.

He saw the door moving back and forth and then realized that Smith had just gotten back from the bathroom.

"Not a thief, just a victim of circumstance," Ansel clarified, his voice relaxed. "Give me a hand treating his injuries."

Smith didn't budge, his eyes fixed on the scene before him with a mix of fear and uncertainty.

He was still terrified of the man who laid on the sick bed.

When he heard the commotion earlier, he immediately ran to the bathroom to save himself.

Only when the chaos subsided and an unsettling silence fell did Smith cautiously emerge from the bathroom.

Smith's eyes narrowed in doubt. "You're sure he's not here to steal?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. As he drew closer, his gaze fell upon the man's bruised and swollen face, and he felt a shiver run down his spine, his throat constricting in response.

Ansel's anger flared up once more, his voice trembling with indignatio
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