Chapter 1207: Should be called a talent

On the eighth shot, Zoren grabbed Penny’s arm. "That’s enough, Penny."

"But this drink tastes like bull, but it has no effect at all." Penny frowned. "I need it to work."

"Can you just tell them without bringing her out?"

"I can," Penny shot Atlas a look. "But to be honest, I don’t want to be reminded of him, especially the previous life."

"Why?"

"You were mean, and the last person I met." Her answer was quick. "And even though you were all relatively terrible to me, you—ah."

Penny’s words cut off as a sharp pain struck the back of her head. It felt like someone had just punched her or hit her with a hammer.

"Penny!" Zoren quickly steadied her, his hands firm on her shoulders. He grabbed the shot glass from her hand, spilling some of the drink onto himself. "That’s enough now."

Zoren, who was usually deferential to Atlas, cast him a firm look. "That’s enough for now, First Brother. I know you’re curious. However, this is too abrupt, and my wife isn’t ready. Not now. Please."

"I’m not in a rush." Keeping his cool, Atlas slowly turned his eyes to Penny. "Let’s talk about it later. Just the two of us."

Penny peeked at him and let out a short laugh, but then, the light in her eyes dimmed. She passed out before she even realized it. Fortunately, Zoren was holding her, preventing her from hitting her head.

"She’s gonna wake up again," Hugo murmured. "Slater, you should ask the cabin crew for a sedative or something."

"Why?" Slater, still unfamiliar with Penny’s drunk persona, frowned. "Wait. Is it really true? That Penny has some kind of alter ego when she’s drunk?"

"Just do what he says," Atlas replied, his gaze never leaving his sister. "It’s better to be prepared, so she doesn’t hurt anyone—or herself."

Slater’s forehead creased with doubt, but since both of his brothers insisted, he sighed and walked toward Atlas’s seat to make the request. Meanwhile, Zoren carefully adjusted Penny, letting her lean against him.

"Penny trained herself so that even if she accidentally got drunk, she wouldn’t lose control," Zoren explained. "I don’t think the sedative is necessary. She’s tamed that part of herself... though still unpredictable. But then again, she’s always been unpredictable, hasn’t she?"

A small smirk played on his lips as he met Atlas’s gaze. "First Brother, I’m not in a place to tell you what I know. However, I do have one question for you. Is knowing what happened in the first life truly important to you?"

"It is."

Atlas paused, his eyes lingering on Penny’s unconscious face. The memory of the night before resurfaced in his head—Slater, devastated, pleading for forgiveness. He needed to know why. What had Slater done to make him so remorseful? What had his little sister endured while the rest of them remained ignorant?

"I need to know..." he whispered. "Otherwise, how can I apologize if I don’t even understand what I should be sorry for?"

Zoren was tempted to say, ’I don’t think you’ll believe an apology is enough,’ but he held his tongue. He glanced down at Penny, exhaling a shallow breath.

"My wife has been through a lot," he said quietly. "Some of her stories sound unbelievable, but I’ve never felt so much pain just by listening to someone speak."

His gaze returned to Atlas. "First Brother, what you and Penny need to discuss is something I will respect. However, as I said, she’s been through enough. If her own brothers are only going to hurt her again, I’d rather keep her away from all of you."

"Bold."

"She’s my wife." Zoren didn’t back down, despite his calm demeanor. "No matter how capable she is, I will always protect her—not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Even if I have to go against... you."

Hugo darted his eyes between Zoren and Atlas, taking a slow sip of his beer. This was the first time he had ever seen Zoren stand up to Atlas. It wasn’t that Atlas was oppressive, but he naturally commanded authority, and Zoren had always respected that—until now.

A tense silence settled over them. By the time Slater returned, the air in the cabin was thick.

"Hey," he called, approaching with a small bag of medicine. "They had a few options, so I brought them. How’s Penny?"

As soon as he mentioned her name, his eyes flickered toward her. Then, he frowned. "Uh... what’s going on?"

"That’s weird," Hugo murmured, furrowing his brows. "She passed out, but she should’ve woken up by now. Usually, she’s up in seconds."

Zoren and Atlas exchanged glances but said nothing. Checking Penny’s breathing, Zoren confirmed, "She’s breathing normally." Then, he checked her pulse— it was steady.

"What’s happening?" Atlas wondered aloud, his brows knitting together. "Don’t tell me she got herself so drunk that she won’t wake up?"

"It seems like that," Hugo added.

"Or... maybe there’s no such thing?" Slater shrugged as the three men shot him a look. "What? I’m not saying Penny is lying, but maybe she just wanted an excuse to go wild."

"I doubt that," Zoren responded. "If it were just an excuse, she would’ve remembered that we’re married."

"Huh?"

Ignoring Slater’s confusion, Hugo snapped his fingers. "Right. Sometimes, drunk people do things and then forget everything the next day. If you think about it that way, it makes sense."

"Still, faking it?" Atlas was skeptical, but he chose not to say more. Bringing it up might reveal things he wasn’t ready to remember— the thing Penny had done to him years ago. He didn’t want to relive that nightmare. But he did want answers as to why she had done such a cruel thing.

"I’ll let her rest for now," Zoren said, shifting his gaze back to Atlas. "I’ll stay with her. Second Brother, help me recline her seat."

With that, Zoren and Hugo adjusted Penny into a more comfortable position. Atlas idled for a moment before moving to another seat to give them space. Hours passed. Eventually, Hugo and Atlas dozed off. Slater, opting for more comfort, retreated to the bedroom in the back of the aircraft.

The silence settled over them, wrapping the cabin in a peaceful lull.

And then—subtly, almost imperceptibly—Penny, lying in her seat, peeked open one eye.

’Ahh... faking sleep for hours should be called a talent.’