The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

Seeing that Enrico clearly couldn’t handle his alcohol, Paige was about to step forward when her wrist was caught by an elderly hand. Earl stood there, smiling. “I must say, I’m starting to admire him a bit.”

Paige remained silent, clenching her jaw.

“Paige, don’t be so tense. You spent half a year locked away in the library for him, what’s a little drinking for you?” Earl reassured her.

“But I don’t want him to drink,” Paige replied, staring at the man’s figure.

Enrico quickly adapted to the first small barrel of wine and began untying the second one hanging in front of him. Paige hurriedly said, “Stop drinking! My teacher is just joking.”

Whether it was the crowd’s deafening cheers or Enrico deliberately ignoring her, he didn’t even glance in her direction as he began drinking from the second barrel.

He had been sick for three years and had only recovered two months ago. He hadn’t even resumed basic physical training yet. His body wasn’t ready for alcohol. Even if it was to stall for time, there was no need to harm himself like this.

Enough!

Paige gritted her teeth and was about to intervene when her phone began buzzing incessantly again.

[Enrico: You need to listen, or I’ll never talk to you again.]Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

[Enrico: You need to listen, or I’ll never talk to you again.]

The messages flooded her screen like a curse, tearing at her sanity. He was clearly drinking. These were scheduled messages. He had planned everything, ensuring she couldn’t stop him.

Paige watched as Enrico reached for the third barrel. He stood in the cold wind, visibly shivering. How could he threaten her like this? How could he?

Despite feeling powerless, fear gripped her.

The atmosphere on stage grew lively as more men jumped in to join the drinking competition. The aroma of wine filled the air, and the empty barrels were quickly replaced with new ones.

The homemade River Town wine had a subtle onset but a strong aftereffect-Paige knew this all too well from a cup she’d once tried.

By the time Enrico reached his seventh barrel, Paige could see the alcohol starting to take effect. His eyes grew hazy with intoxication. He loosened his collar and moved on to the next barrel.

No…

Paige bit her lip, her fingers tightly clenching. She glanced at the time; only 20 minutes had passed since the one-hour evacuation deadline. How much longer would he keep drinking?

Time slowly ticked by.

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” The crowd cheered wildly.

The people on stage, faces flushed from drinking, either collapsed or vomited, filling the air with a foul smell.

The number of participants dwindled, from seven or eight down to three, then two. In the end, only Enrico and the local man with exceptional alcohol tolerance remained.

The local man’s face was so red it looked swollen, but he kept drinking at a leisurely pace. He was ahead of Enrico by about ten barrels. Laughing, he sneered, “Haha, no one knows River Town’s wine better than I do. You should just give up. A few more drinks, and you’ll die right here on stage.”

Enrico’s face was flushed with alcohol, his eyes bloodshot. He casually twirled the small bamboo barrel in his hand and sneered at the man, “You want to marry her? Do you think you’re worthy?”

Enrico wasn’t fazed, raising his head to drink the little bit of wine left in the barrel. He then smashed it on the ground in front of the man.

“What did you say?” The drunk man, easily provoked, lunged forward in anger, ready to throw a punch.

Enrico swiftly kicked him away. The man, now angrier than ever, yelled incessantly.

“Pull them apart! No need to fight on such a joyous occasion!” Earl quickly intervened.

The crowd hurriedly pulled the man away, calming him down. However, the man shouted loudly, “Listen up! I grew up drinking this town’s wine! If you can drink 100 different kinds, then come back and talk to me!”

A hundred kinds…

Paige was in disbelief. This man could really hold his liquor.

Earl chuckled as he watched from the side, “Don’t worry. River Town’s wines are varied, but they’re all made using similar methods. I can easily drink a dozen kinds at once. For young people, drinking dozens isn’t a problem either.”

“He says he can drink 100!” Paige’s face turned pale.

“Seems like he really can,” Earl replied, glancing at the man, who was still drinking.

Someone nearby chimed in, “Oh, Earl, he’s not just good. He drank 100 types of wine last year and was crowned the Wine King of the festival.”

He survived drinking 100 types of wine?

What was the point of continuing this!

Paige panicked, rushing over and grabbing Enrico, her voice low. “That’s enough. You can pretend to be drunk now, and I can get you out of here.”

He had already drunk dozens of types of wine. Any normal person would have collapsed by now. He had achieved his goal.

Enrico, swaying on his feet, almost stumbled as she pulled him. His eyes, reddened from the alcohol, gazed at her deeply. His smile broke through, as though the wine had deepened his usual charm.

“No need.”

He staggered back, lifted a small bamboo barrel, and poured it down, drinking every drop. “No one can take you away from me.”

“It’s just a tradition,” Paige protested, her eyes wide. She didn’t take it seriously, so how could she possibly marry the man if he outdrank Enrico?

“Even a tradition won’t do.”

Enrico pulled away from her grip and reached for another barrel.

“You’re drunk! Come with me!” Paige insisted, trying to pull him away.

Enrico leaned in close, his handsome face, now flushed with drunkenness, almost touching hers. “Paige, if you still want me to care about you, then listen.”

He said it again.

“Do you want to die here?” Paige’s face turned white with fear.

Hearing this, Enrico paused, then pointed his finger at her nose, laughing wildly, “Even in death, you’re mine.”

Paige stared at him in disbelief, convinced he was truly drunk.

One barrel after another.

The endless contest continued.

She turned to Earl. “Teacher, I’m withdrawing him from the competition.”

“You can’t withdraw on his behalf. He has to quit on his own,” Earl replied with a smile.

“He’s already drunk!” Paige snapped, ready to forcibly drag Enrico away when suddenly, with a loud thud, the local man collapsed on the ground, unconscious and foaming at the mouth.

“Ninety-one kinds of wine,” someone tallied nearby.

As soon as the man fell, all eyes turned to Enrico. Almost half of River Town’s residents had gathered, shouting at the top of their lungs. “You’re only ten barrels away! Keep going!”

“Drink! Drink! Drink!”

The roar of the crowd echoed in the air, their cheers pressing down on everyone’s eardrums, as if they were intoxicated by the alcohol themselves.

Paige glared at Enrico, pulling him forcefully. “Stop being stubborn. Come with me.”