"Blech! Are you sure this thing's edible?
This smell...
It was like swill left out in the sun to ferment...
Sour and stinking... and it was fucking hot!"
Rocket took one bite and immediately spat it back out, frantically scratching at his tongue with both paws as if trying to scrub away the lingering taste.
He looked utterly miserable.
Quill and Gamora exchanged a glance, quietly set down their spoons, and casually pushed their trays forward.
"What do we need?"
Su Ming finally spoke up.
Rocket's attention was finally pulled away from the taste of the food.
"One of those security wristbands the guards wear to control the entrances—I need one."
Gamora immediately picked a target, her voice crisp and efficient.
"Leave it to me..."
Rocket spotted the Broker walking past with a tray, and the corner of his mouth curled up.
"That guy over there. I need his fake leg..."
"His fake leg?"
Quill couldn't understand what use a fake leg could possibly have.
Rocket added with complete seriousness.
"I really don't need any other part of him..."
"Fine, I didn't ask—wait!"
Quill looked at the fake leg again and realized its owner was none other than his old friend—the Broker.
The words he had been about to say, offering to take the job, died in his throat.
"Can't we pick someone else? I know him. I'd feel bad doing it..."
Quill glanced again at the limping Broker, looking slightly troubled.
"If you won't do it, are we supposed to make Su Ming do it? He already contributed the most important thing, the Orb. We need to do something too, to prove our worth!"
Seeing Quill suddenly get all hesitant, Rocket slapped the table and stood on his chair.
He stared straight into Quill's eyes.
Quill's expression was complicated.