Atlas completely ignored her cries, still focused on Tyler. "You want more? Go on.”

In this manner, three bottles were emptied in succession. Tyler, with a 'gulp,' knelt on the ground. He looked like he was about to bow down to Atlas, but he passed out drunk.

Then, Atlas glanced meaningfully at Benedict, asking, "Benedict, care for a taste too?"

Benedict had already been frightened, retreating without the arrogance he displayed toward me earlier.

Seeing Atlas asking if he wanted to drink, he retreated further, nervously mumbling and not knowing what to say.

Atlas said indifferently, "Cheers to Benedict.”

The attendant quickly opened another bottle of vodka. Benedict stammered, "I-I'll drink myself.”

After saying that, he took the bottle and poured its contents down his throat. He was spilling it everywhere, but we wouldn’t know if it was because he was nervous or doing it deliberately.

Atlas sneered, "How wasteful. Continue. Drink as much as you spilled.”

Benedict reluctantly