Ten minutes later, Spike had thoroughly begun to regret challenging this freak to a drinking contest. If he had known beforehand that Jay possessed such monstrous alcohol tolerance, he would never have dug his own grave.
Jay had started by boldly tilting back an entire bottle of wine as easily and comfortably as if he were drinking mineral water. Then he set the empty bottle on the table and generously declared that they could all take him on at once.
When Jay drained an entire bottle of wine in one go, Spike had already realized he might have bitten off more than he could chew, but there was no backing down now. When Jay arrogantly declared that they could all come at him together, Spike suddenly found his confidence again—he might not be able to outdrink Jay alone, but could all of them really not match one person?
The truth was, apparently they could not.
Empty bottles lay scattered all over the floor. The last lackey Spike could command was already dead drunk, mumbling indistinctly about how he had done his best before collapsing face-first onto the table, joining his brothers who were already snoring away. Meanwhile, Jay had emptied another fresh bottle of whiskey and placed it among the pile of empties. He smiled warmly at Spike, his expression unchanged, making Spike wonder once more whether Jay had secretly swapped the whiskey for some kind of juice.
The students watching had already begun to jeer. Spike's face turned the color of liver, and at last he gritted his teeth and decided to go all in. He grabbed another bottle, quickly pulled out the cork, and began chugging it like Jay.
Moments later, amid everyone's boos, he too passed out. Apparently, his drinking capacity was not particularly impressive either. It was only because Jay had always seemed like the model student, someone who looked utterly unrelated to alcohol. Yet the truth was that this really was his first time drinking, but his body's tolerance for alcohol was extraordinary. Even another thirty or fifty pounds would have been no problem at all.
A few minutes later, Jay stepped onto the terrace outside the living room.
The balcony of a wealthy household truly was something else. Jay found a private outdoor swimming pool here, with marble tiles covering the surrounding ground. Colored light streaming through the living room's glass painted it in dazzling hues, making for a beautiful sight. The view overlooking the city from the terrace was also excellent. Metropolis at night was as bright as day as ever, its brilliant lights woven into a soft veil draped gently over the city.
Lois gently pushed open the door and stepped onto the terrace, moving to Jay's side. The evening breeze brushed past her, sending her blonde hair dancing in the wind as the fragrance of her expensive perfume drifted away with it.
"The party's inside," Lois said with a smile.
"Yeah, I know," Jay said. "Just getting some air."
Lois nodded. "Are you holding up? I mean, you drank quite a lot just now."
"I'm fine." Jay smiled. "I've never done this before, but I thought some night air would do the trick."
Lois looked him over, and once she was certain he showed no sign of being any different from usual, she smiled. "Looks like you've surprised everyone again. Who knew your alcohol tolerance was flawless too? I'm getting more and more curious about how many talents you really have."
"Don't get your hopes up too much," Jay said half-jokingly. "I'm nearly out of surprises."
She smiled, leaned against the terrace railing, and looked down at the glittering Metropolis below. Golden strands of hair brushed across her powdered cheeks. She edged a few centimeters closer to Jay and asked casually, "So, what school are you going to after graduation? Harvard? Oxford?"
Jay shook his head. "I think I'll stay local."
Lois tilted her head slightly. "Why? With your talent, shouldn't you have plenty of choices?"
"Metropolis isn't so bad." He gazed at the crisscrossing streets below. "I guess I'm just used to staying here."
Lois stared absently at the city's prosperous nightscape and gave a bitter smile. "Yeah. This city looks so wonderful. Looking down from here, it's like the whole place is shining with gold, making you feel as though you're standing in a gold mine. But that's not what it is at all. It lures you closer with the illusion of hope, makes you embrace it, and then stabs you bloody at the moment you least expect it."
Jay glanced at her in surprise. A faint flush had risen to Lois's cheeks, whether from the alcohol or simply from agitation, he could not tell.
"You're a little drunk," Jay reminded her.
"Maybe, but my mind is clear." She was stubborn. "I know what my classmates think I'm like—tough, overbearing, with more money than I could ever spend, able to have anything I want. But that's only what I let everyone see. The truth is, I'm exhausted. So exhausted that I can barely breathe. Dad was seriously injured in the Apocalypse Invasion six years ago. He survived, but it left lasting damage. Last year, his old injuries flared up, and he passed away, leaving behind the company's chaotic mess. The apocalypse crisis brought an economic crisis to the company, and at its most critical moment, those old men in upper management started fighting each other tooth and nail for their own interests. Mom only knows how to cry every day, so all this mess can only fall on me. Sometimes I really think it would be wonderful if I could be like other ordinary students."
At that, she let out a long sigh, revealing a weariness she could no longer conceal. It was an expression she had never shown any of her other classmates. She gave Jay a bitter smile. "Sorry. I've never told anyone else any of this, and before I knew it... You must think I'm being deliberately dramatic, whining over nothing, right?"
Jay shook his head. "No, I understand. Everyone has their own battles. Everyone admired and respected by others has troubles of their own."
"You really do understand." Lois swept away her dejection and giggled. "Then what about you? Even you have things that trouble you?"
"Of course."
"Would you mind sharing?" Lois raised her eyebrows.
Jay smiled. "Next time, if there's a chance."
"That's really unfair. I shared mine with you," Lois said. Looking up at the sky, she sighed. "Sometimes, when I run into all kinds of difficulties, I can't help thinking of you. I think, if Reynolds were in my position, you'd surely find a solution easily, right? Because everything looks easy when you do it. So I think it would be nice if I were even half as capable as you."
The two fell silent for a while. Traffic still rushed along the golden streets below. On a massive electronic display across the street in the business plaza appeared the bald head of LexCorp CEO Lex Luthor, a man who had been one of America's hottest figures in recent years. At that moment, he was once again launching into a spittle-flying speech on "Why Humanity Doesn't Need Superman," while conveniently announcing the exciting progress his company had recently made in various fields.
"How ironic, isn't it?" Lois sneered. "These people throw away their souls without hesitation, yet they congratulate themselves every day."
Jay glanced at her and asked, "Are you a Superman fan?"
"I used to be."
Lois changed the subject, breaking the atmosphere that had begun to turn cold. "Sorry. It's party time today. I shouldn't be talking about unhappy things. Let's go back. It's starting to get cold here, and we shouldn't keep everyone waiting too long."
With that, she beckoned Jay and headed back toward the noisy living room. Jay stood in the night, watching her back. The sparkling crystal lights from the living room made her figure seem especially thin, lending her an air of desolation she had not possessed before.
For some reason, as he looked at the lively living room filled with singing and dancing, Jay suddenly felt that he truly did not belong there. He belonged somewhere like this terrace—alone beneath the night sky, letting the cold wind blow over him, quietly watching from only a few steps away from the party.
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