CHAPTER 163
The small, dimly lit room felt stifling, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken worry. Malakai sat on the worn couch, his fingers trembling as he grasped the bottle of red liquid, pouring himself a full cup. Without hesitation, he gulped it down, the fiery alcohol burning his throat, providing a momentary respite from the anguish that consumed him. He wanted more, just more and more. He didn't want to stop. That was the only thing that could relieves him of the pain he was going through.

Across from him, the three older men – Wraith, Raven, and Vritt – exchanged concerned glances, their brows furrowed with a mixture of empathy and trepidation. If Malakai finished this bottle of alcohol, that would make it the seven bottle he'd been drinking within an hour.

Wraith, his face etched with a solemn expression, leaned forward, his gaze locked with Malakai's.

"Malakai, you've been drinking too much. I must advise you to stop now. Those are too much, that's like seven bottle now. You do
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