"Jarvis! Jarvis! Where's my lifesaving mecha suit??!! Tune it up for me, I'm going to put it on right now!" Stark stood up immediately, then turned to Shiller and said: "You think physical strength is everything? You gotta use your brain!"
About two hours later, the entire lab was like a soaked wine vat. To describe how much they drank, the word "cans" would be a bit of an understatement, it would be more accurate to say "tons".
As Steve had said, both Captain America and the Winter Soldier were genetically modified people. They could get drunk whenever they wanted to, and if they didn't want to, they could simply take a few deep breaths and instantly metabolize the alcohol.
As for Shiller, how much he could drink depended on how much the gray mist was capable of drinking. As for how much the gray mist could drink, Scarecrow Jonathan Crane had something to say about that.
Surprisingly, Stark, who had the physique of an ordinary person, did not fall behind at all. His lifesaving mecha had gone through several upgrades and was more than capable of helping him metabolize alcohol.
So, the four men drank an astronomical amount in the lab of the Stark Building.
Jarvis and Ultron, the two cutting-edge intelligent robot butlers, were taxed to their limits searching all over New York for alcohol stocks, including devising the shortest routes to buy booze and ensuring the supply of alcohol.
Natasha, Barton, and Coulson joined the fray, and the liquor merchants of New York made a fortune, as did Nick.
Luckily, although these people metabolized alcohol quickly, they couldn't do so indefinitely. Or to put it another way, even if they metabolized 99% of it, 1% would always be left behind. And when this 1% added up, they would still get drunk.
In the end, Steve and Bucky forgot about even trying to metabolise alcohol. The gray mist screamed and became delirious in Shiller's mind, and Stark even lost the instinct to manipulate his mecha suit.
The four men sprawled on either side of the sofa in a messy state and used foul language.
"You... Can't handle it!" Steve was the first to speak. He stretched out his arm in a daze, pointing at Stark and saying, "and your father... He can't handle it either!"
"You're full of shit!" Stark retched a bit and said, "You... You're all talking crap! Today... only Stark... I win!"
"I... Still... Can drink..." Bucky's words had become so slurred that he couldn't get a single coherent word out. His mechanical arm, out of his control, reached out to grab the whiskey bottle next to him.
"Drinking by screwing doesn't count!" Shiller immediately straightened up, knocked the bottle out of Bucky's hand. The two of them didn't notice that it was an empty bottle.
"This is the... first time I've been drunk!" Steve also slurred, "We must have drunk... tons? Maybe 100 tons? I drank at least... Ah... At least 60 tons, I've been to the bathroom over 130 times, I've been counting..."
"You're full of shit!" Stark immediately rebutted. He bit his own tongue and let out a cry of pain, then said, "You... went to the bathroom 20 times more than me! So... it should be... over 140 times..."
"You're all crap!" Shiller said, "I didn't go to the bathroom even once... So... I win today..."
"Well... That's true..." Steve leaned awkwardly against the other side of the sofa and began to vomit. After he finished, he wiped his mouth and said, "That's what I admire about you... But... you don't have anything to brag about. You're all drunk into a fog!"
At this point, Shiller was indeed in a state of gray mist because the gray mist was already going wild from the alcohol.
Stark suddenly started giggling, then pointed at the three of them with shaking fingers and said, "Look at you! No dignity at all! Look at me... look at me!"
"Burp!" Steve belched and said, "You are... a billionaire! We... we are commoners..."
"I'm also... a commoner..." Stark swayed his upper body, picked up another bottle of booze, slammed it on the table, then lifted it high.
The moonlight outside the window was very bright, just like any other clear night.
In the room where the light shone, several hands were raised high. When the glasses clinked together, the moon in the sky felt lonely because of their jollity and vulgarity.
So, she flew over from the far end of the sky, leaned in at the window, listened intently but she didn't hear their lofty ideal or unrealistic fantasies.
All she heard were four drunkards shouting loudly, even if their speech was indistinct:
"Cheers… to the common man!"
"To the common man!"
So, the moonlight didn't want to leave either, it gently lowered its head, perfectly matching each weary commoner.