[ It's difficult to resist throwing Silco A Look for those words. He doesn't need a wingman here! What is this guy trying to get at? The last thing he wants is to be left alone with an old bastard whose hands won't stop wandering now that he's getting more and more drunk.
He hates this, actually. Every second of it. The man's breath reeks of expensive liquor, his words slurring around the edges. He's pretty loose-lipped already, but not as much as they need him to be.
Jinwoo plays along, following after the openings Silco left behind to ask the right questions. He's even allowing the man's hand to brush against his arm, his shoulder— just enough to make him seem interested even when he'd rather sock this guy right in the face.
Eventually, the VIP starts talking. The alcohol helps, the ego even more so. He brags about the people he knows, the businesses who owe him favours. Certain names keep coming up again and again: Silver Altitude. Sapphire Room. The latter rings a bell so Jinwoo risks sending Silco a message. ]
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He hates this, actually. Every second of it. The man's breath reeks of expensive liquor, his words slurring around the edges. He's pretty loose-lipped already, but not as much as they need him to be.
Jinwoo plays along, following after the openings Silco left behind to ask the right questions. He's even allowing the man's hand to brush against his arm, his shoulder— just enough to make him seem interested even when he'd rather sock this guy right in the face.
Eventually, the VIP starts talking. The alcohol helps, the ego even more so. He brags about the people he knows, the businesses who owe him favours. Certain names keep coming up again and again: Silver Altitude. Sapphire Room. The latter rings a bell so Jinwoo risks sending Silco a message. ]
Is that what we need?
[ Or do they need the guy to talk some more? ]