This goblet’s a gem—especially for short-lived folks. Long-term sipping extends lifespan, with a tiny chance for the [Immortal] title. That probability’s… kinda sketchy, though.
Staring at her goblet, Filo flashed to her frying pan—another [Blacksmith] MAX creation, forged over months. MAX blacksmithing… I’m pretty sure “I” have that too. Did “I” make these? Nah, who’s got that much free time? Three months for a pan? I’d rather nap. That’s peak salted-fish energy. (Kids, don’t copy.)
Dad and Mom eyed the golden goblets, clueless. They didn’t dare scan them—Filo’s stuff, after all. Scanning’s rude, like peeking. At Bingpo’s LV600+, she can scan weaker folks unnoticed, but equals or stronger? They’d feel it, like being creeped on. At Filo’s LV999 with her top-tier [Anti-Anti-Scan], even Ultimate Beings wouldn’t notice her snooping.
“What’re you staring at? Drink! No clue how it tastes, but it’s gotta be good, right?” Filo urged.
Dad and Mom hesitated, then nodded, grabbing goblets. Bingpo and Chiyan followed. The empty cups instantly filled with sweet wine, its scent alone dizzying.
Gulp. Dad swallowed hard. Dragons love wine—it’s a hit, even if their tastebuds are meh. Wine’s “flavor” hits pain receptors, not taste, so even sensory-dull dragons feel the buzz.
Dad, a booze hound, never worried about acting out—Mom’s slap would knock him out cold. Safe, right? Staring at the goblet, he drooled. “I’m diving in!” He chugged it like a pro, but his arms flopped, goblet slipping—caught by Filo’s blood thread. His face screamed drunk. Back in the day, he was the “Thousand-Cup Prince,” but one sip here? Lights out.
This wine’s that strong? Weirdly fitting for Original Filo’s stash. Filo eyed her goblet suspiciously. Pre-transmigration, she barely drank—maybe a forced sip at New Year’s. But this body? With MAX skills, her drunk resistance should be MAX too, right?
She chugged. The moment the wine hit her tongue, she knew she’d screwed up. Too late—gulp. She didn’t drop her goblet like Dad, just set it down, hand on cheek, before thud—she collapsed on the table, snoring drunkenly.
“Zzz~ Zzz~”
Filo miscalculated. She thought drunkenness was a debuff, but nope—not negative, so her LV9 debuff resistance didn’t kick in. Drunken Fist masters next door treat it like a core buff!
Bingpo, seeing Filo out cold, fidgeted eagerly, but with Mom there, she held back. Smiling, she turned. “I’ll take Master to rest—in my room! I’ll sleep on the floor!”
“We’ve got spare rooms…” Mom started, but Bingpo dragged Filo off.
Mom sighed. This girl’s getting reckless—Dad’s dumb genes kicking in? She eyed her goblet, curious, as thud—Chiyan, who’d sipped, passed out on the floor.
Such troublemakers. Mom glanced at Dad, then Chiyan. Her curiosity spiked. She chugged the wine, set the goblet down, and exhaled. “Just average… hic.”
Half a second later, her face turned apple-red. Thud—she flopped on the sofa, out cold.
Bingpo excluded, total wipeout!