The yellow sign of the chicken shop buzzed cheerfully as Kant pushed the door open. The warm, greasy aroma of fried chicken wrapped around him as he stepped in.
It was lunchtime but the place wasn't too busy.
Seated at a booth near the window, Jones leaned back casually, his blond hair catching the light. A small smirk played on his lips as he gave Kant a relaxed wave.
"Look who's back. I was beginning to think all I would get was the text that dinner was ready."
Kant shrugged as he slid into the booth opposite him. "Had a free moment, so here I am."
He couldn't tell how much Hunter had told Jones about the cult troubles. Judging by the lack of suspicious glances, it seemed Jones wasn't aware of the... complications Kant had caused.
Mrs. Shin rang the little bell on the counter, signaling for Jones to serve the prepared plates with fried chicken steaming on them.
