His mood lifted further when he spotted a small restaurant advertising spicy bibimguksu. The tangy, refreshing noodles were exactly the pick-me-up he needed. He slid inside, ordered a bowl, and sat by the window.
That was when the low murmur of conversation from the following table reached him. Three men huddled together, their voices deliberately quiet, though not quiet enough.
"Do you think the boy's taken the pill yet?" one of them asked, a man with shoulder-length hair and a restless tapping foot.
"If he's still alive, he'll come to us soon," another replied. His grin was sharp, cruel. "We will have a great pawn in our hands."
Wooyun paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He let his gaze drift to the lacquered tabletop, feigning disinterest while pricking his ears. A pawn? A pill? It sounded like the shady scheme you'd read about in cultivation novels.
