In that instant, everyone in the living room fell silent. Dahlia and Jasmine looked at each other, evidently surprised that I, who had always been meek, was acting so firm today.

Mom laughed hollowly to break the tension, though her gaze repeatedly drifted toward the whiskey bottle that had been tampered with. "You silly child. It's just a drink between family members, so there's no need to make a big deal out of it. You should just take a seat, Weston. I'll pour you a glass."

I raised my hand and directly blocked the bottle the moment Mom raised it to pour me a drink. "I'd need you to hold it right there. I'll certainly drink it, but let's be clear about the stakes first."

Dad's expression turned grim. His breathing grew heavy as he threw his cutlery on the table again. "I'll go along with whatever game you want to play! You'd better make sure that you don't go back on your word or start whining when you're defeated!"

I smirked coldly, glancing at the glasses on Jasmine's face before looking out the window at the new BMW. "I'd like to up the stakes since you're so eager, Dad. The first one to pass out covers the mortgage and the car payments for the next year. I'd also like to add another clause for this year."

I stopped for a moment, making sure my voice carried clearly into every corner of the room. "I've heard that Jasmine is planning to buy Mom and Dad a bigger place and is a bit short on the down payment. I want the loser of this wager to cover it. It's not much—only about 45 thousand dollars."

In that instant, my statement caused an uproar.

Jean went pale with fright and grabbed my arm. Her voice was shaking. "Have you lost your mind, Weston? You're setting yourself up to fail! It's 45 thousand dollars! How are we supposed to pay that?"

Those surrounding relatives also went wild. They looked at me as if I were an idiot, though their faces were full of anticipation for the drama to follow.

"You said it yourself—everyone here is a witness!"

"You'd better not try to back out when you lose the bet!"

"He's been cornered, so he's just saying whatever comes to mind."

Jasmine adjusted her glasses. A glint of barely contained glee and greed shone behind them. After all, she had been looking for a way to squeeze money out of me, and here I was handing it to her.

"I'm fine with that! I'm not going to stop Weston if he's so desperate to show off how much he loves Mom and Dad! You shouldn't get in the way, Jean! You play, you pay—those are the rules!"

Jean was fuming. Her chest heaved as she tried to argue.

I merely squeezed her hand, signaling for her to trust me, and gave her a reassuring glance. "I'm fine with 45 thousand dollars, but I have a condition that needs to be met first."

I looked around the room. My voice was steady as I continued, "If I win, I'm not pitching in a dime for family expenses ever again. I want Dahlia and Jasmine to take over Mom and Dad's retirement completely.

"I also want them to pay me back every cent I've given them over the past 20 years. It's not much—roughly 300 thousand dollars in total."

Ryan let out a yelp and nearly jumped out of his seat. "You want 300 thousand dollars from us? You must be out of your mind! You gave that out of respect for Mom and Dad! Why should it be returned to you?"

Jasmine scowled. "You'd better not go too far since we're still family, Weston. Do you intend to cut off the family?"

I laughed hollowly. "What's the matter? You can't possibly be getting cold feet, right? You're the ones who said I was a lightweight. You're the ones who said we should play by the rules. You guys couldn't possibly be doubting yourselves right now, right?"

Dahlia struck the table and shouted. Spit flew from her mouth. "I'll do it! I'm not afraid of you! You're a lightweight who collapses after three rounds, so there's no way you're winning this! You're paying that down payment and mortgaging your home once you lose the bet!"

Jasmine tried to intervene but couldn't stop her, so she simply nodded. Her expression was grim. "I'm in since Dahlia agreed. I don't think a verbal agreement is enough, though. We have to sign a formal agreement."

That was just what I had in mind. I took out my phone and turned on the recording function. "I think a written agreement is necessary—and we should get some witnesses too. It just so happens that Aunt Maria and Aunt Nina are playing cards downstairs, so let's get them up here to act as witnesses."

Mom and Dad looked extremely displeased, but there was no turning back now. Dad waved his hand at Ryan and said, "Go get them this instant! I'd like everyone to see how ungrateful Weston truly is and how he's throwing away the family's fortune!"

I finally turned to Jean and said, "Go to the store downstairs and grab two cases of vodka. Make sure they are 40% ABV."

Jean gazed at me worriedly. It looked like she wanted to say something, but she held back.

I leaned forward and whispered, "You have to trust me, Jean—I won't lose this time. I'll reclaim everything we've lost."

Jean met my resolute gaze and nodded. "I'll go get them now. If we lose, we'll take it on together."

I watched her back as she left, and my eyes stung. I was determined to make them pay back what they owed in blood this time.

It wasn't long before both of my aunts, Maria and Nina Zeller, arrived upstairs, followed by several relatives who were eager to watch the scene unfold.

In that instant, the room was crowded.

Upon hearing what happened, Aunt Maria furrowed her brow. "Why make such a big scene over a family dinner, Jack? You guys are even drafting an agreement over a drinking contest? If any of this gets out, the Zeller family will become a laughingstock!"

Dad sneered and pointed at me. "It's that brat who insisted on making a scene. I couldn't do anything about it, and since he thinks he's man enough to handle this, then fine—I'll let him try!"

I printed the agreement and slammed it onto the table. "It's all written clearly right here—whoever loses and goes back on their word is a coward."

Ryan chimed in from the side. "You're really pushing your sisters to the edge, Weston. How could we possibly scrape together 300 thousand dollars? There's no way we could gather that, even if we sold everything we had!"

In that instant, those relatives around us started whispering among themselves, pointing fingers in my direction.

"How could he be so heartless? He's keeping such strict accounts with his own family?"

"Why did they bother raising him!"

I paid no attention to them and passed the pen to Dahlia. "Go on and sign it."

Dahlia grabbed the pen and quickly signed her name. "I'll sign it! You'd better not come crawling back when you lose, Weston!"

Jasmine paused briefly before signing. Mom and Dad, who were serving as witnesses, were pressured into adding their thumbprints to the agreement as well.

Jean walked in right then, lugging two cases of vodka. She was sweating from the effort as she dropped them on the floor. "I got the vodka. None of them has been opened before."

In that instant, everyone's expression shifted.

Dahlia immediately yelled, "What's the meaning of this?"

"I've grown tired of the same drinks we always have, so I thought we'd try something different this year."

I took out a bottle and twisted it open. The strong scent of alcohol instantly rushed into my nostrils. I then set a large bowl before me and said, "I think glasses will take too long since we're going big. I think we should drink one bowl at a time—no more pouring until yours is drained."

Dahlia stared at the large bowl before her. Her throat tightened as she swallowed hard. She quickly regained her bravado, though. "I'm fine with that! I'm going to make sure you know exactly why you lost today, Weston!"

Jasmine's expression shifted slightly. She soon regained her composure after noticing the looks Mom and Dad were giving her, though.

Mom suddenly stood up, acting all hospitable. "You shouldn't drink on an empty stomach. You should have some of your favorite honey-mustard-glazed fish, Weston."

Having said that, she put a morsel of fish in my bowl. Its surface was dusted with a tiny amount of white powder.

It was subtle enough to miss, but I knew exactly what it was—ground-up sleeping medication.

It turned out that they hadn't just spiked the drinks—every dish had been tampered with as well.

I stared at the fish. A wave of nausea hit me when I realized that the person before me was my own mother. I couldn't believe that she was willing to drug her own son just to protect her daughters' interests.

I picked up the fish and moved to take a bite.

In that instant, everyone was focused on my actions. Mom's gaze held a hint of expectation, while Dahlia and Jasmine were already smiling slyly.

In the blink of an eye, my wrist twitched, causing the piece of fish to land on the floor. "Oops. I lost my grip on that one."

I then sighed and added, "I guess I wasn't meant to eat the fish."

Mom's expression immediately froze. Her forced smile gradually slipped away. "It's no big deal. I'll just serve you another piece, Weston."

She reached toward the dish again, aiming for the fleshiest part of the fish—the very spot where the concentration of the ground-up sleeping medication was highest.

I directly placed my bowl face down on the table and said, "It's alright, Mom. I've been having an upset stomach lately, so I don't feel like having any fish. It'd be for the best to just get started on the drinking contest."

I tipped the bottle. The vodka splashed into the bowl until it nearly spilled over. I raised the heavy bowl and looked at Dahlia and Jasmine. "I'll drink first to start things off."

I threw my head back and downed the drink before they could even react. I could feel the stinging liquid burn its way down my throat and into my stomach, but I only felt exhilaration, not pain.

In my past life, I pushed my drinking to the point of injuring my stomach, all to build tolerance—the trade-off was that I developed an iron liver; I could drink anyone under the table.

I tilted the empty bowl toward them, showing it was drained clean. "Your turn."

Dahlia was shaken by my display, while the relatives around us gasped.

"Weston always came across as a gentle one, so I didn't realize he had this kind of fight in him."

"That big bowl must hold roughly 8.5 fluid ounces, right?"

Dahlia gritted her teeth and picked up the bowl. "I'll drink it! I'm not afraid of you!"

She threw her head back and drank too, but halfway through, she choked. She coughed until her face was flushed, spilling the drink all over herself. "H-How potent!"

Jasmine furrowed her brow as she lifted the bowl and took a cautious sip. "You should take it easy; otherwise, you'll keep choking on it, Dahlia."

She continued to sip it tentatively.

I fixed a freezing gaze on her. "You're barely touching it, Jasmine. You were so loud before this. You couldn't possibly be getting cold feet now, right?"

Jean, who was beside me, refilled my bowl. "You should take it easy, Weston."

I gave Jean a reassuring smile before turning to Jasmine. "You can forfeit now if you can't handle it, Jasmine. You just have to return the 300 thousand dollars, and we'll call it even."

Jasmine took the bait and downed the bowl. She kept it down, but her face turned beet red instantly.

It was the end of the first round, and everyone had consumed 8.5 fluid ounces of vodka.

I could feel a searing heat spread through my stomach, but I refused to let my composure slip.

Upon seeing the state of things, Mom rushed over with a glass of water. "You should drink some water to settle your stomach, Weston."

I noticed that the water looked slightly murky and knew, in an instant, that it was spiked as well. I shoved the glass aside and grabbed the bottle. "I don't want any water since it'll ruin the flavor of the vodka. It's time for the second round!"

I topped up the bowl again and raised it in my hand.

Dahlia's hand started trembling. She cast a desperate glance at Dad, silently begging him to step in.

Dad cleared his throat and stepped in. "That's enough now. What's the rush? We should just talk and take our time with the drinks."

I slammed my bowl onto the table. "Those are the rules—the first one to pass out loses. I don't remember saying anything about a break. If you've lost your nerve, sign the agreement and transfer the money this instant. If not, keep drinking."

I downed the second round in one go, and this time, I could taste blood in the back of my throat. I still forced myself to swallow the vodka, though. I slammed the empty bowl face-down on the table and snapped, "Drink up!"

Dahlia shuddered with fear after hearing my command. She looked into my bloodshot eyes, and her heart began to race with dread. She couldn't help but wonder if the person before her was the submissive Weston she once knew.

She thought that I seemed more like a malevolent spirit seeking restitution.

She toughed it out and finished the second round. She sank into her seat immediately after, staring vacantly into space.

Jasmine drank as well, but she pulled a fast one. She spat half the liquor into her napkin when she thought no one was looking.

I saw everything plainly, yet I didn't call her out.

I poured the third bowl. We were on the third bottle by now, and the air was thick with the pungent smell of liquor.

Dahlia was already beginning to ramble. "I-I'm not drunk, s-so keep them coming!"

Jasmine was still putting up a front, but her grip was gone. She couldn't even keep the bowl level.

I waited for the perfect opening, then suddenly grabbed my stomach. I collapsed onto the table after swaying a couple of times. "I-I can't do this anymore…"

Ryan sprang up, yelling with excitement, "He's down! He's finally down! Get the agreement so that he can sign it right now!"

Mom rushed over and gave me a nudge. "Weston? Can you hear me, Weston?"

Upon seeing that I had actually "gone down", Mom breathed a sigh of relief. She then turned to Dad and said, "I told you he couldn't handle it—that earlier bit was just a flash in the pan. Get Weston to put his thumbprint down this instant, Jack."

Jasmine wiped the vodka from her mouth and sneered. "You actually think you can take me down, huh? You're way out of your league! It seems like not only is the mortgage sorted, but we've secured the down payment as well!"

Just as Dad grabbed my hand to press my thumbprint onto the debt transfer agreement, I opened my eyes.