Later, at the noon;
The Prison cafeteria was filled with noise.
Sungjun stood in line with his tray with his eyes forward, calm as a man waiting for a bus he takes every day for work. Behind him, Steve towered like a quiet shadow but remained humble.
At one of the tables, a group of inmates sat watching. One of them, a broad-shouldered, with a mohawk and a tattoo crawling up his neck, leaned forward, a grin twisting on his face.
"Well, look at that," one said, nudging his buddy. "Mr. Incredible is out of his hole."
"Who's the pretty boy in front of him, Steve was talking to? Never seen him before," another snorted.
"A friend, maybe," a third guessed. "Looks like a celebrity from Zhonggou, though. Did he supply drugs or something?"
The leader with the mohawk chuckled, setting his tray aside. "If he is a friend, then he must have something on Steve. Let's go give him a warm welcome."
