I quietly watched the lively scene before me. The table was piled high with all sorts of dishes, and the hotel staff kept bringing out steaming plates of food.
Empty bottles were constantly being carried away by the hotel staff.
Rachel Lan was slumped against the sofa, her cheeks flushed. I sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa. She was completely drunk, and I had no idea how many hours had passed, but the party still wasn’t over.
Suddenly, with a thud, Leah King collapsed under the table, completely losing consciousness. Basil Bertram shook his head, picked Leah up, and carried her toward the women’s quarters.
Yvonne May sat quietly in the corner, drinking alone. Yuna Ji invited her over several times, but she never moved.
“Damn it, I refuse to believe it. I’m going to show those bastards a thing or two, no matter how long it takes.”
Redmond said with a drunken slur, the anger and frustration from before now completely gone. Lord Shenyan raised his bowl and drank deeply again.
I was a bit drunk myself, planning to sober up before continuing to eat and drink. The food here was just too good—I hadn’t enjoyed myself like this in ages. Right now, pleasure was all that mattered; nothing else needed my attention.
There was no going back, and even if we could, who knew how long it would take? That was the most important thing. But just like Rachel Lan said, no matter how long it takes, we’ll get back.
“Speaking of which, Yuna Ji, you owe me a lot of money.”
At this, Redmond turned to look at Yuna Ji, who was leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed.
“What are you talking about? Redmond, you must be mistaken. How could I possibly owe you money?”
Redmond got to his feet, swaying from all the drinking. With a thud, he slumped drunkenly against the edge of the table, one hand gripping it. John Chou chuckled, handing him a bottle of liquor.
“Keep drinking. Maybe it’ll jog your memory.”
Redmond gulped down more liquor, bottle in hand. I smiled helplessly and walked over. Yuna Ji opened her eyes and burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as if she’d remembered something hilarious.
“You guys need to take it easy.”
Mona Ouyang muttered calmly. She’d only had a little to drink before stopping.
"Hey, Corpse Siren, why aren’t you drinking?"
By now, Redmond was almost completely drunk, glaring at Mona Ouyang with glassy eyes.
“This isn’t my body. If I drink too much, this little girl could die of alcohol poisoning. I’m not bothering with you guys.”
Mona Ouyang got up, planning to return to her room.
Yuna Ji grabbed her by the arm.
"Give me a hand, you bastard."
Mona Ouyang looked angrily at the drunken Yuna Ji.
At that moment, John Chou walked over. Suddenly, he pressed the mouth of the bottle directly against Yuna Ji’s lips. I stared in astonishment as she gulped down several mouthfuls, then with a thud, the bottle hit the floor and Yuna Ji collapsed limply to the ground, not even struggling, completely motionless.
"If you’re sober enough, come back and drink with us, brother."
I grunted and got up, first carrying Rachel Lan back to her room. After returning, I sat down again. Now, only John Chou, Lord Shenyan, Death Curse, Yuki Yi, and I remained at the table. Redmond and Yuna Ji were already out cold.
"Miss Yvonne, now that these tasteless fools have passed out, you can come join us, right?"
John Chou raised his glass and asked, Yvonne May nodded and drifted over to sit down.
"This journey might be even harder than our days in the Infernal Prison."
Lord Shenyan said, his tone somber.
"Maybe so."
I could understand. There was no purpose, not even a shred of hope in sight.
We’d discussed it briefly before, and the conclusion was clear: the members of the Immortality Society were probably just like us now. Having lost the bridge of Tantan to the Dark Banquet, the Dark Banquet crowd wouldn’t let the Immortality Society go easily either.
Because the terms we’d agreed on before were voided by Tantan’s sudden disappearance, both sides were unable to cooperate. The Dark Banquet wouldn’t easily trust the Immortality Society, and the Immortality Society wouldn’t easily trust the Dark Banquet.
"Is this the outcome you wanted to see, John Chou?"
I asked. He raised his glass with a half-smile, and I clinked mine against his. He shook his head.
"Brother, I didn’t want this either. The result is neither terrible nor great—just somewhere in between!"
I took a sip, set down my glass, and grabbed a chicken leg to gnaw on.
The roast chicken was crispy and delicious, rich but not greasy—just perfect.