Full Cup

Suye picked up the black pottery wine glass and slowly walked toward Horton.

"Don't... don't..." Horton scrambled backward, shrinking into the corner and kicking his legs frantically, as if the ground were icy and he kept slipping.

Harmon watched his son like this, fury and anxiety churning inside him, but he dared not say a single word.

Even Senit had unhesitatingly sold him out—what could he do? Suye set the black pottery wine glass on the edge of the table, then slowly reached out toward Horton in the corner, revealing a gentle smile. "Remember what we talked about yesterday? We're friends, classmates, partners—not enemies."

Seeing Suye's kind expression, Horton's terror eased slightly. "Will you forgive me?"

"Of course, of course." Suye's smile grew more sincere.

Horton hesitated for a moment, then slowly extended his hand. Suye pulled Horton up for the second time, guiding him to the table.

Suye reached out, straightening Horton's robe as he spoke gently. "Look at you. You could have been a decent person, but you had to come after me. You've made yourself this miserable—why bother? Just study well, grow well, be good enough on your own—isn't that enough? Why do you have to prove yourself by trampling others? Let me think... probably because you feel you can never be good enough, that you're trash, dog shit, so this is the only way you can show yourself."

Before Horton could process the words, Harmon's face tightened. Then he saw Suye grab Horton's hair with his left hand, while his right fist, like a sledgehammer, slammed into Horton's nose again and again.

Blood poured from Horton's nose like a waterfall.

Horton first wailed in pain, then was beaten into a half-conscious state; if Suye hadn't been gripping his hair, he would have collapsed.

Horton's face looked like rotten pork.

Suye picked up the black pottery wine glass with his right hand and placed it under Horton's chin.

Blood mixed with tears slowly trickled into the glass.

Suye turned to look at Harmon, smiling. "Don't rush. Wait a little longer—after all, you chose such a big cup."

Harmon's body trembled, his soul quaked.

In that moment, he felt as if a demon was drinking his son's blood.

He couldn't believe he was feeling unprecedented fear toward a child.

Suye was clearly smiling, but Harmon's world had frozen solid.

"It's flowing a bit slowly. You're Senit, right? Come help." Suye looked at the Egyptian.

Senit said nothing, strode over quickly, and punched Horton's nose three times—each punch harder than the last. Suye almost lost his grip on Horton's hair.

Gush...

Blood streamed down again.

Horton screamed twice and passed out once more.

Harmon clenched his teeth so hard he could have skinned Senit alive.

Suye said helplessly, "I asked you to hold Horton steady, not to hit him."

Senit froze, then quickly steadied Horton properly.

Kelton laughed at the scene, turning to Hark. "Is he the one you took down in three seconds?"

"Two and a half seconds." Hark thought for a moment, then answered seriously.

Senit's face darkened.

Harmon felt like he had fallen into an ice pit.

After a while, Horton groggily opened his eyes. Before he could see what was happening, he heard Suye's voice.

"Stopped again."

Then darkness hit Horton, and with confusion and searing pain, he lost consciousness—not even having time to feel anger.

No one knew how long passed before Suye finally placed the full black pottery wine glass on the table in front of Harmon.

"Uncle Harmon, this is what you asked for." Suye's voice was soft.

Harmon's body jolted violently. Suye's voice sounded like a whisper from the underworld.

Harmon glanced at his pitiful son, then at the wine glass filled with blood mixed with snot and tears. He slumped down, eyes vacant.

"Suye, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I should have disciplined my own child, taught him to treat his classmates well, taught him to be kind to others..." Harmon spoke, growing both angry and frantic, a hint of a crying voice creeping in.

"Fear and shame are the roots of cowardice," Kelton said.

Suye pushed the black pottery wine glass forward gently.

"You asked for it. You drink it." Suye's tone was so flat it was chilling.

Harmon looked up at Suye, disbelief in his eyes.

This youth was like a demon.

"Drink it." Suye's tone remained flat.

Kelton suddenly sighed. "Harmon, I've heard of you—a pretty smart guy. Why would you be so foolish as to pick a fight with Suye? I don't even have that kind of courage."

Harmon's body trembled, regret flooding him. He began to suspect that Suye was likely the illegitimate son of some great noble, with an utterly terrifying background—otherwise, Kelton wouldn't have said such a thing.

Senit's hands were steady; otherwise, he couldn't have played with his dagger like a butterfly. But now, he couldn't control the trembling in his right hand.

Kelton glanced at Hark and said, "Look at how scared Hark is—he won't even ask for his magic short sword back in front of Suye."

Hark shot Kelton an annoyed look. Even at a time like this, he couldn't resist teasing him.

Suye pretended not to hear Kelton's words and said to Harmon, "Are you waiting for someone to toast you, or are you trying to add a dish?"

Harmon gritted his teeth, grabbed the Black Pottery Wine Glass, closed his eyes, and chugged it down in one go.

He let his hand fall, the Black Pottery Wine Glass crashing to the ground, then bent over and dry-heaved.

"Ugh..." Harmon felt like countless rusted iron scraps were churning in his stomach.

Senit watched his old friend coldly. After all, he was just a merchant, not a warrior.

Only then did Kelton smile and say, "Suye, what exactly happened?"

Suye then recounted the whole story from beginning to end.

"Pelius? Same name as a friend's child. But then, are Plato Academy students this cowardly now? Back in the day, when noble students threw their weight around, we beat them black and blue. They had to apologize publicly before it was over. Still, I didn't expect you to strike so hard."

Kelton looked at Suye with interest. He had seen too many bloody scenes, but the methods this sixteen-year-old had displayed shook him more than any mountain of corpses or sea of blood.

Suye smiled and said, "I'm the kind of person who really knows how to treat friends and how to treat enemies."

"Not many people can tell the difference. How about a drink together today?" Kelton said.

The image of that overflowing Black Pottery Wine Glass surfaced in Suye's mind, and he said helplessly, "I'm not really a fan of watered-down wine."

"Everyone does it. Get used to it," Kelton said.

The Greeks believed wine could drive people mad and affect their sanity; only diluting it with water was considered a rational and elegant way to drink.

Suye turned to glance at Harmon, then suddenly turned back and smiled at Kelton.

"What?" Kelton couldn't figure out what Suye was smiling about.

"His judgment is better than yours." Suye was still smiling.

"Mm." Hark agreed.

Kelton recalled Suye mentioning that Harmon was willing to invest two hundred Golden Eagles, his face darkened, and he began to ponder.