18

Women are unpredictable, but Susan seems to be the most complicated. Just now she was talking nonsense about 'killing someone', and now she was on her third glass of alcohol and starting to attract people's attention.

Apparently, the bar was organising a special drinking challenge where those who managed to down the fastest ten glasses would get a free purchase at the next meeting.

It was a ridiculous challenge. Besides the fact that we were underage, alcohol was one of the things I cursed and avoided.

I don't know. I don't remember the exact reason. What is certain is that it was related to something dirty and I hated it.

Nevertheless, Ssan was the first to volunteer, and was now standing in the centre of a crowd of people cheering and encouraging her enthusiastically.

"Well, Miss, this is the fourth glass. You still got it?" the bartender exclaimed, breaking up the noise.

Susan just smiled. "You've got to be kidding. Don't underestimate me like this, pour all the glasses, I'll finish them all," she said, starting to ramble.

However, this was greeted with more applause and cheers. Some even took out their mobile phones and started recording, or maybe livestreaming, huh?

Whatever, it was bad. I had to get her out of here. But what I have to do?

If I stopped her in the middle, we'd have to pay ten times what she'd already drunk. And by us, that means just me. You can't expect something from drunk people, right?

 After all, it's an unwritten rule not to let a girl pay on the first date. However, after what I experienced, I don't think there will be any more dates.

I thought back to what she said earlier...

"My brother has gone too far. He should be warned."

"Yes, but to... that extent?" I said at the time, too reluctant to mention 'kill'. Just remembering it made me sick again. How could she say it so casually?

"It's a fitting punishment," Susan insisted, then snorted. "Of course you wouldn't understand."

Yes, and no. How can I understand if you don't give me a reasonable explanation?

I tapped my forehead, shook my head, and decided I'd had enough.

I pushed the people in the way out of the way, cut through the crowd, and approached the owner at the end of the tender table.

"How much is it?" I asked, ignoring the people around me who seemed to be giving me mixed looks (most of which were distasteful, it seemed.

The bartender frowned, looked at me, then at Susan. "Are you with this lady?

I nodded. "How much?"

"You know she's not done yet, and you'll have to pay a fine if you don't finish?" said the bartender again.

"Yeah hey, let the girl have her fun."

"What a spoilsport."

"You are no fun!"

All my life, I've had to deal with people saying that to me, so this one didn't make much of an impression either. I still insisted on persuading the bartender. "Um... after this, we have somewhere to go, so I hope she doesn't get too drunk."

The bartender sighed. "Two hundred dollars," he said, in a tone that was more stern than before.

"With food?"

"Plus food, that'd be 300."

You've got to be kidding me.