Chương 97: Recklessness Killed the Cat

To immediately prove his point, our burly vanguard grabbed his own massive bottle of Soul Crusher and proceeded to chug the industrial-grade engine degreaser with the casual indifference of a dehydrated athlete downing a sports drink after a light jog. He didn't even blink as the toxic sludge vanished down his throat.

Right on cue, Fiona matched his chaotic energy, tilting her giant container backward and gluggling the weaponized moonshine down her windpipe with the absolute, zero-effort ease of a thirsty bear finding a pristine river in the middle of summer. Within a matter of seconds, the dynamic duo had successfully deleted a solid fifty percent of the liquid volume from their respective bottles, setting the containers back down on the polished wood with a synchronized thud.

I leaned in close, fully expecting their internal organs to immediately initiate a localized structural meltdown, but they didn't show a single symptom of biological panic. Their eyes remained completely clear, their posture was rock-solid, and their faces failed to register even a microscopic hint that the alcohol had actually kicked in yet, leaving me to harbor some serious psychological doubts about whether this highly anticipated specialty booze was actually as lethal as the marketing department claimed.

I rolled my head slightly to the side to see how the left wing of our seating arrangement was holding up and caught June staring a metaphorical hole right through the side of my face. She was scanning my posture with the intense, hyper-critical focus of an antique appraiser trying to figure out why a piece of junk had been allowed into the showroom.

"Are you genuinely attempting to inform this gathering that you possess the soul of a submissive rule-follower, desperately clinging to societal frameworks that have absolutely zero jurisdiction in this realm?" June imperiously scoffed, her thick British accent carrying a heavy dose of aristocratic disbelief.

"Are we truly meant to believe that this is your grand debut into the world of consuming adult beverages?" I leaned in a fraction closer to inspect her facial department and noticed that her pristine cheeks were sporting a very noticeable, slightly unpolished shade of pastel pink. The mysterious mystery of her sudden facial flush was instantly solved when I looked down at the polished wood in front of her, revealing that her elegant glass had been thoroughly looted of its previous crimson contents.

Before she could even snap her fingers to demand a refill, the hyper-aware bartender seamlessly materialized right on cue, gracefully sliding a brand-new, freshly topped-off glass of the identical red vintage directly into her designated personal zone.

"Please, give me some credit here, your highness, this is absolutely not my first rodeo with the liquid courage department," I shot right back with a thoroughly amused smirk, waving a hand dismissively to defend my honor against her elitist interrogation.

"I have historically consumed an absolute mountain of the stuff in the past, even if the legal system back then technically classified those operations as completely unauthorized pirate activities. Let us just say that my parents were never particularly great at keeping a strict physical inventory of their private liquor cabinet." The absolute second the fresh glass hit the polished wood, June didn't even bother with the standard high-society etiquette of swirling the vintage or admiring the legs.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Instead, she tilted her wrist back and completely deleted the entire contents of the glass in one single, high-velocity gulp, throwing her throat open like a heavily taxed plumbing system receiving a sudden surge of industrial runoff.

Down at the opposite end of our table, poor little Aiko was trapped in the middle of this conversational crossfire, her wide dark eyes darting back and forth between the two of us like she was a spectator at a championship ping-pong match.

Because Her Royal Highness and I were anchoring the absolute far edges of our party's seating arrangement, my voice was coming from the extreme right wing and June's elite mockery was firing from the deep left, forcing Aiko's entire head to repeatedly swivel back and forth with a manic, high-speed velocity that looked like a mechanical fan trying to cover a very wide room.

"Well, look at you go, your highness, it appears you possess a remarkably trained plumbing system when it comes to the heavy-duty liquid department," I remarked, leaning my chin on my hand with a thoroughly amused smirk as I watched her casually conquer her second premium vintage. June's pristine lips instantly twisted into a sharp, knowing smirk, her elegant features locking back into their preferred state of supreme aristocratic confidence.

"One naturally develops an immense, unbreakable tolerance for these trivial substances over the years," June smoothly confessed, her thick British accent carrying a sudden, rare hint of raw honesty beneath all that heavy royal padding as she looked away from her empty glass.

"When one is forced to navigate the absurd complexities of existence, I find it infinitely preferable to numb the operational processors of the mind rather than face the sheer weight of reality with a completely clear head." I shifted my focus back to the comically massive cylinder of weaponized fluid dominating my immediate personal real estate, studying the glass container like an unexploded bomb that had somehow passed health and safety inspections.

Bringing the cavernous rim of the bottle right up to my facial department, I gave it a massive, highly investigative sniff, fully prepared for my nose hairs to instantly combust from the fumes. Surprisingly, absolutely nothing happened, the liquid possessed zero aroma whatsoever, entirely failing to broadcast a single hint of its supposedly lethal genetic blueprint to the local atmosphere.

"Well, look at that, it actually smells like absolute nothingness, so it probably won't instantly dissolve my internal organs after all," I announced to the counter, my voice dripping with a thoroughly amused layer of false security as I casually weighed the glass in my palm. June immediately shifted her posture, looking down the slope of her aristocratic nose at my reckless confidence with an expression that bordered on genuine, elite concern.

"I would strongly advise you to exercise an immense amount of caution and merely sample a microscopic sip before committing your entire biology to that disaster," June imperiously warned, her thick British accent carrying the weight of a queen lecturing a particularly dim-witted peasant.

"The local authorities do not label that specific concoction as the absolute most destructive elixir in the entire district without a very valid, terrifying reason." I let out a soft chuckle, flashing her a brilliant, completely unbothered smirk as I prepared to launch a full-scale assault on my own sobriety.

"Please, your highness, have a little faith in my capabilities, because I can handle this industrial paint stripper with my eyes closed," I shot right back, giving her a casual, heroic wink. Without waiting for a single second opinion from the medical department, I threw my head backward and aggressively opened the hatch, tipping the massive bottle straight up to chug the liquid down like a dehydrated athlete at a marathon finish line.

Bizarrely enough, the fluid didn't possess a single molecule of actual flavor, mimicking the taste profile of premium tap water while bypassing my taste buds entirely. The solitary logistical barrier actively preventing me from accelerating my drinking velocity was the simple physical reality that my mouth and throat department were completely overstuffed with the incoming tidal wave of booze, forcing my anatomy to work at absolute maximum operational capacity just to process the sheer volume.

I slammed the heavy container back down onto the polished wood with a loud, triumphant thud, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I checked the remaining inventory of the bottle. I had successfully deleted a solid quarter of the entire liquid volume in one single, high-velocity gulp, establishing full dominance over the signature drink without breaking a single sweat.