Surviving In This Filthy World As A Novel Villain-Chapter 125: Just One Sip

In his past life, his alcohol tolerance had been average at best. But after arriving in this world, he had purchased a skill from the system’s marketplace, "Bottomless Drinker" after browsing for some time in the system shop. His capacity for alcohol had skyrocketed, making him immune to intoxication.

In simpler terms, when it came to drinking, he could confidently declare: I’m not singling anyone out, but all of you here are amateurs compared to me.

Since Alex didn’t seem interested in speaking, Riley remained obediently silent. But her curiosity got the better of her.

Every few moments, she would sneak a glance at him, only to panic and lower her gaze whenever she thought he might notice.

After a brief pause, she’d peek at him again, then quickly look away like a guilty child caught red-handed.

Alex resisted the urge to sigh. ’Is she a grade schooler or what?’ Placing his glass down, he finally spoke, his tone casual yet direct.

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"Is there something on my face?" Riley jolted upright.

"A-Ah?! N-No, nothing!" Her hands instinctively clenched the hem of her shirt, her nervous energy making her fidget like a restless kitten.

Alex leaned forward slightly, resting his forearm on his knee. "Can you sing?"

"Sing?" She blinked rapidly before shaking her head. "Not really… Does being tone-deaf count?"

’So, that’s a no.’ He exhaled lightly before trying again. "What about dancing?"

"Dancing… um, also not really. Do warm-up exercises count?" Alex Sigh. At this point, even a restaurant wouldn’t hire her as a waitress.

He looked her over, taking in the simple, almost makeup-free face. Despite her plain appearance, her beauty was undeniable.

Her straight bangs, reminiscent of a high school girl, framed large, clear eyes that held traces of anxiety, yet beneath that nervousness, there was something else.

A kind of pure, naive foolishness. A rare sight in a place like Club. Of course, there was a reason behind this contradiction, why someone so untainted had chosen to work in a place that catered to the wealthy and the corrupt.

Her grandmother was sick. Not just any illness, but cancer. Late-stage. The kind of diagnosis that meant towering medical bills and slim chances of survival.

And why was it specifically late-stage cancer and not some other common condition? Simple. Because if it were something easily treatable with modern medicine, then how else would the Miraculous doctor, Eric Vaughn, get his grand entrance?

In reality, cancer, especially late-stage, offered little to no hope for recovery. Even at mid-stage, the chances of survival were very… very slim.

But in the world of brainless urban power fantasies?

Forget the late-stage. Even if cancer had reached some new stage, all it took was the protagonist making a casual move, and the disease would be cured within minutes.

In the original plot, Eric Vaughn had visited the Club for a drink, only to come across Riley being harassed by a few small-time thugs.

The moment he laid eyes on her, he was stunned by her beauty, a once-in-a-lifetime masterpiece, he had thought.

Naturally, the heroic protagonist couldn’t just stand by.

So, he beat the thugs to a pulp, causing quite a bit of collateral damage in the process. Glass shattered, tables flipped, and several club decorations were reduced to rubble.

When the club later demanded compensation, did Eric take responsibility? Of course not. Instead, he turned around and beat up the club’s security team as well.

And that was that.

After leaving the club, a tearful and grateful Riley revealed why she had taken up a job at such a place, her grandmother’s illness.

Eric, being the prodigy Miracle doctor that he was, immediately declared: "Your grandmother’s illness? I can cure it."

From then on, things naturally fell into place, and the sweet, innocent girl became completely enamored with him.

Alex’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he rested his hand on the table.

"You can’t sing or dance…" He tapped his fingers lightly against the glass. "But surely you can drink?"

"D-Drink?" Riley stammered, her expression shifting slightly. "I… I don’t… I can only drink a little." Her first instinct was to say she couldn’t drink at all.

But when she caught the faint displeasure in the boss’s gaze, she quickly swallowed her words and revised her answer.

’A young, wealthy, and handsome man like him wouldn’t force me to drink just for the sake of it… right? He’s probably only suggesting this because I have no talent, and he doesn’t know what else to do with me…Wait… If I had outright refused just now, would that have annoyed him? Would I have lost this easy job that pays 500 dollars a night for minimal effort?’

Riley congratulated herself on her quick thinking. Looking at Alex, like understanding workplace dynamics like a pro!

Alex pushed a glass toward her.

"Then drink this." On the table sat a special dry martini, personally requested from the bartender. Unlike a regular dry martini, this one was crafted to hit hard and fast.

Mercy? That’s the protagonist’s concern. A villain should act like a villain.

Riley’s eyes widened as she stared at the glass.

"Ah… The whole thing?!"

Although Riley had only been working at club for a week, she had already learned a thing or two about cocktails. And unfortunately, she recognized the drink in front of her.

A dry martini—one of the stronger cocktails. One sip, and she might be fine. The whole glass?

She would definitely get drunk. She didn’t want to get drunk. She couldn’t get drunk.

"Sir…" Riley hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her dress. "I still have to go to the hospital after work to take care of my grandma. If I get drunk, there’ll be no one to look after her."

She lowered her gaze, hoping that by showing her vulnerability, she could earn the big boss’s sympathy.

Alex let out a quiet sigh.

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"Fine. Just one sip, then."

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(A/N: Next Chapter Soon! Some Golden tickets guys!!!)

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