Passing out on the black market wasn't a good idea. It doesn't matter if you're a carnivore or a hervibore, dangers linger at every corner if you don't keep your guard up at all times.

Luckily enough for you, you woke up. Albeit the soreness in your muscles alerted you about the uncomfortable position you were in; your wrists tied up together, pressing your back to a bamboo pole. You were no longer in the shady alleyways of the black market.

The room around you was empty. Too clean for the lingering scent of meat in the air, hiding beneath the stench of deinfectant, the kind you only smell on hospitals. But before you could make any movement to protest, the sound of heavy steps started approaching, the sound booming through the hall at the other side of the door.

Soon enough, with a protesting noise from the metal door, the figure of a panda appeared, looking up at you from the papers in his hand, almost surprised. "Ah, awake yet? You were knocked off for a good while." He said, crouching in front of you, keeping a reasonable distance. "Sorry for the restraints, kid. I had to make sure you wouldn't freak out."