Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1965: Not as Enemies
Chapter 1965: Not as Enemies
Villain Ch 1965. Not as Enemies
Allen pushed the door open and slipped back into the warm, greasy comfort of the restaurant.
The buzz of conversation, the scent of fryer oil, and the clatter of plastic trays greeted him. But then again, Allen was good at compartmentalizing. He didn’t carry things into rooms that didn’t deserve them.
Mila looked up the moment he stepped in. Her lips lifted in a small smile, eyes searching his for something, tension, anger, maybe regret. She found none.
Allen returned to the booth and sat beside her, not across. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just reached for the shake they hadn’t finished and took a long sip.
“You good?” she asked gently.
He nodded. “Settled.”
“Everything?”
He gave a half-smirk, eyes on the straw. “For now.”
Mila reached under the table and squeezed his hand. “I’ll take that.”
Allen glanced sideways at her and gave her hand a squeeze back before releasing it. He leaned into the booth, let the noise of the place fade into the background for just a second.
Meanwhile, across the restaurant, Elio stood just inside the front door.
Helmet still in hand, he stared for a moment… just watched Allen and Mila in their quiet little world. The way Mila tilted her head when she spoke to him. The way Allen smirked, the faintest twitch of the mouth like everything she said amused him on some private wavelength. No tension. No post-argument discomfort. It was like Elio had never interrupted.
They were ready to leave now.
Allen slid out of the booth.
Mila followed. She adjusted her coat, and he held the door open for her like it was second nature.
Then, Allen’s gaze lifted. Found Elio’s across the room. Held it.
For a breath, neither said anything. Just stared.
One second. Two.
Then Allen nodded. Not cold. Not warm. Just noted.
Elio returned the nod.
And they passed.
Not as enemies.
Not yet as friends.
But something quieter. Something like… mutual recognition.
When the door shut behind them, Elio finally exhaled.
He looked around the restaurant like someone waking up from a fight and realizing they were still in a burger joint. His stomach growled.
And then he spotted Jacob again. With a hoodie and soda float, now half fries and half melted sadness.
He walked over and dropped into the seat across from him.
“Soda ice cream and fries?” Elio said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a bad combination.”
Jacob didn’t even blink. “Let me have my comfort food.”
Elio snorted. “You always did have garbage taste.”
Jacob grinned. “Says the guy who dipped nuggets in strawberry milkshake.”
“Hey, they are good,” Elio shot back, standing. “Anyway, I need to get food too. No queue right now. It’s my chance.”
Jacob saluted him with a fry. “Go. Before someone brings ten kids in.”
Elio moved fast, stomach grumbling like it hadn’t eaten since yesterday. He barely looked at the screen, just jabbed a finger at the first combo that blinked back. When the tray landed in his hands, it was glorious. Greasy, hot, and unapologetically unhealthy. A double bacon cheeseburger oozing melted cheddar, a side of seasoned fries still hissing with oil, and a giant soda so sugary it could strip paint.
He returned to the booth like a soldier returning from war, dropped into his seat, popped the lid off his burger, and let out a long, satisfied sigh before biting in like he earned it.
Jacob watched him chew for a few seconds, then asked casually, “You finished talking to him?”
Elio nodded as he swallowed. “Yeah.”
Jacob squinted. “And?”
“It was… heavier than I thought,” Elio admitted. “But good. I guess.”
Jacob tilted his head. “Sophia?”
Elio nodded. “And Darren. Liam. All of it.”
There was a silence between them for a few seconds, filled only by the background buzz of the restaurant. A kid two tables over was screaming about pickles. Someone spilled a soda near the soda machine. The staff didn’t even look up.
Jacob stirred his ice cream float again. “So what’d he say?”
Elio took a long sip of his drink before answering.
“He said he’s done with her. That she made her choice. That he didn’t break her. She broke herself.”
Jacob didn’t reply at first. Just kept stirring.
“She’s in bad shape,” Elio added. “Still clinging to his name like it’s her lifeline. But he’s not going back. Not even a look over his shoulder.”
“Cold,” Jacob muttered.
“Clean,” Elio corrected. “He doesn’t owe her anything.”
Jacob looked at him, expression unreadable. “You still like her?”
Elio paused, burger halfway to his mouth.
“No,” he said after a beat. “I don’t think I ever did. Not the real her.”
Jacob leaned back. “So it was projection.”
“Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to matter to someone she couldn’t have. Or maybe I used to hate Allen so much that I convinced myself she deserved everything.”
“That’s a lot of maybes.”
“Yeah,” Elio said, sighing. “I’ve got a head full of them lately.”
They both sat for a bit, just chewing.
“Is he joining the tournament?” Jacob asked eventually.
Elio shook his head. “Nope. Can’t. Conflict of interest.”
Jacob nodded slowly. “Makes sense.”
Elio smiled faintly.
“But…” he said, voice lower now. “I asked him something.”
Jacob blinked. “Yeah?”
“If he can’t join as a player,” Elio said, voice dropping to almost a whisper, “I asked him if he’d come as something else.”
Jacob stared at him. “Like what?”
Elio didn’t answer.
Just smiled.
It wasn’t cocky. Wasn’t arrogant.
It was the kind of smile someone wears when they’ve just lit a fuse and walked away.
Jacob narrowed his eyes. “You’re not telling me something.”
“I’m not allowed to,” Elio said with a shrug. “But let’s just say… if I win that tournament? The real prize might not be the trophy or money.”
Jacob leaned back again, finally taking a bite of soggy fries. “You’re an idiot.”
“Probably,” Elio said.
“But a scary one.”
They clinked their soda cups together.
