Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1952 - Capítulo 1952: The End of Vacation [Part 1]
Capítulo 1952: The End of Vacation [Part 1]
Villain Ch 1952. The End of Vacation [Part 1]
The vacation ended just like that.
Wheels touched tarmac with that familiar hydraulic groan, followed by the gentle hiss of cabin pressure equalizing. The private jet taxied toward the VIP terminal as the city skyline greeted them in the distance—sharp, glossy towers piercing through low-hanging clouds. The sun was halfway down the horizon, casting everything in molten gold. It looked like a postcard. But none of them were looking out the windows anymore.
They had landed.
And just like that, it was time to go back.
Back to work. Back to fake smiles. Back to high-rise apartments and overbooked calendars.
Allen stood first. He didn’t say anything. Just reached up, grabbed his carry-on from the overhead, and rolled his sleeves down with practiced ease. The girls followed suit—waking, stretching, slipping out of their post-flight haze with quiet grumbles and some light teasing as they touched up their hair and makeup.
Despite the long trip and their infamous “night activities,” they moved with elegance—heels clicking on polished marble floors, glossy lips touched up, coats draped over one arm. If there was soreness in their legs, they didn’t show it. At least not publicly.
Larissa walked perfectly upright beside Allen, like nothing had happened. Of course she did. Of course she would be the other one who could still walk like she hadn’t just spent two nights getting rearranged.
Allen didn’t smirk. But he could’ve.
He really should’ve thanked Gerry for all those forced leg days.
The moment they stepped out of the terminal and into the polished corridor of the VIP arrival lounge, heads turned.
Of course they did.
One man. Eight beautiful women. All of them effortlessly styled, walking like a slow-motion perfume ad. Hair glossy. Eyes outlined. Coats cinched just enough to tease.
Security nodded. Staff smiled nervously. One of the reporters’ assistants blinked too fast and dropped her tablet.
The girls walked straighter.
Even if their thighs ached.
Even if some of them quietly cursed Allen under their breath while pretending to check their phones.
He wore his sunglasses now. That helped. The lenses framed his face just enough to draw curiosity but not recognition. Especially when he didn’t slow down. Didn’t glance around. Just kept walking like a CEO arriving from an offshore acquisition. Not a gamer returning from his harem vacation.
It worked. Mostly.
But someone still noticed him.
Sophia.
She wasn’t supposed to be here.
But then again, she never was where she claimed to be.
She stood near one of the side gates, phone in hand, pretending to scroll, pretending to be someone going somewhere. A hoodie draped over her oversized coat, hair perfectly styled despite the casual effort.
Of course, she wasn’t flying anywhere.
She had no hometown to return to.
This was damage control.
Her latest performance.
A carefully timed, PR‑crafted narrative that she was “stepping back to heal” after Darren and Liam finally exposed her for what she really was. A sympathy grab to redirect the public eye.
Fly out of the city.
Get photographed at the airport looking fragile and broken.
Post a tearful goodbye stream.
She had just ended it minutes ago—voice trembling, mascara smudged perfectly, saying she needed time away, needed distance, needed to “find herself again.”
She even ended it with a shaky little smile and a scripted whisper: “Goodbye… for now.”
Her viewers flooded the chat with hearts and crying emojis.
She even spammed sad music.
Sympathy was already trending.
Perfect.
But then she saw him.
The shape. The walk. The girls around him. Her breath hitched.
No.
No way.
It couldn’t be Allen.
Could it?
He had been quiet for a while. She couldn’t even see him or meet him eventhough she tried so hard.
This was absence. And annoying!
And now here he was.
He looked different.
Cooler. More distant. Not in that cold, calculating way he’d used before when he played the game.
This was worse.
He looked… gone.
She stepped forward before she even realized. Her feet moved. Her heart punched her ribs.
“Allen…?” she called.
Too soft. Too far.
He didn’t stop.
Didn’t turn.
Didn’t even tilt his head.
She called again, louder this time. “Allen!”
Vivian looked over. Barely. A flicker. Then dismissed her without a word.
Jane caught sight of Sophia too. But only smirked. Didn’t tell the others. Didn’t break step.
Sophia walked faster.
The girls were ahead now, talking again. Laughing even. Azura lingered close to Allen’s side. Alice linked arms with Bella. Zoe leaned into Shea’s shoulder with a sleepy sigh. They were warm. Effortless. Real.
And Allen?
He was right in the center.
Untouchable.
She tried to catch up, weaving between a family with too many suitcases, a businessman shouting into his headset.
By the time she reached the end of the corridor, the automatic glass doors had already opened.
They stepped into the cool dusk outside.
Their driver was waiting.
Two sleek black SUVs. Tinted. Immaculate.
Doors opened. Heels clicked. Coats swept. Luggage vanished.
Allen paused for one moment—just before ducking into the second car.
She froze.
Please.
Please turn around.
Just once.
Just look at me.
Like you used to.
Like I still mattered.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t even glance back.
He stepped into the car. The door shut.
The engine purred. The cars peeled out silently. Right lane. Smooth.
Gone.
Sophia ran.
She didn’t care anymore. About the eyes. The image. The sympathy arc.
She just ran.
Through the parking lot. Past the automated doors that hissed shut behind her. Past the cool gust of recycled air that hit her face like rejection.
She didn’t think. Didn’t look around. Her boots slapped hard against the pavement, loud and uneven, echoing between the rows of black sedans and tinted executive cars. Her coat flared behind her, half zipped, hair whipping in her face.
She darted around a row of luggage carts, nearly tripping over the corner of one.
A security guard called out—confused, half-hearted. “Miss? You can’t run here, it’s—”
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