Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives Chapter 1804: Unrealistic
Villain Ch 1804. Unrealistic
He rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "Not that I didn’t want to. I’m still . But... that night wasn’t about that. They were there for . For each other. And I just... I let myself be held. I needed that."
There was a pause.
Then Allen added, quieter but honest—"But we still did it. Later. In the morning."
Azura’s head snapped up.
Her eyes widened. "Wait. With all of them?"
Allen didn’t blink. "Yeah."
She blinked again. Her ears were practically glowing now.
He shrugged, as if it was both the most obvious and most complicated thing in the world. "Having a harem ans I have to be fair. And they were there. They were hurting too—worried, scared, angry. I gave them everything I had that morning. Because they gave it to first."
Azura’s cheeks were burning. She dropped her gaze, suddenly very interested in the stitching of her couch cushion, fingers tracing an imaginary pattern with nervous intensity.
But Allen stepped closer.
His voice softened, llowed into sothing deep and sincere.
"And yeah," he said. "They’re really that supportive. That loyal. That insane. I love them."
Azura looked up, her voice barely above a whisper. "So they’re not just so kind of... fling?"
Allen’s expression changed—completely.
The joking vanished.
"No," he said, firm and quiet. "Never."
He sat down beside her. Close. Not touching yet. But the heat between them bridged that space instantly.
"They’re all precious to ," he said. "Every single one of them. Not because they’re beautiful or strong or hot—which, yeah, they are—but because they believed in when it wasn’t easy. When I didn’t even believe in myself."
Azura stared at him, her pulse hamring in her throat.
"Do you ever get tired of it?" she asked. "Of... feeling that much for so many?"
Allen exhaled, thoughtful. "Sotis it’s overwhelming. But never tiring. Because each one is different. And with each one... It’s real."
Her heart skipped.
And in that mont, sothing cracked inside her. Gently.
Because she wanted to be part of that too.
Not just one more na in a long line.
But his.
Part of that warmth. That chaos. That loyalty.
And she realized—
Maybe it wasn’t a matter of whether she could handle sharing him.
Maybe it was whether she could handle not being there.
Azura’s fingers curled tighter into the cushion beneath her, heart thudding like it was trying to send her so kind of coded ssage through her ribs.
Because this—this—was Allen.
Not the Devil Emperor. But the guy sitting on her couch right now.
Real. Honest. And still sohow... breathtaking.
She swallowed and finally asked—quiet, but clear, "Then what do you think about ?"
Allen blinked.
She didn’t let up. "Don’t you feel weird? Letting in when you already have them?"
Allen didn’t answer right away.
His gaze lowered. His shoulders rolled a bit, casual but pensive. He rested his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled like he was weighing the whole world again.
"To be honest?" he said after a beat, "Yeah. A little."
Azura’s chest tightened.
"But not because of you," he added quickly, looking up. "Just... the situation. Having multiple girlfriends already feels like sothing out of a bad fantasy novel. Like a power fantasy or a gar delusion."
He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Past ? Would’ve called it wishful thinking. Unrealistic. A ss waiting to happen."
Azura studied him.
He didn’t sound smug. He didn’t sound like he was showing off.
He sounded... surprised. A little overwheld. But also grounded.
"But here I am," he said, softly now. "Living it. And yeah, I know it sounds weird and unconventional. I know it looks wrong to a lot of people. But sohow..."
He glanced at her, and sothing in his expression shifted.
Less sharp.
Less calculated.
Sothing vulnerable.
"...I’m happy," he finished. "They are all supportive. They all love . How could I accept one and break the others’ hearts?"
Azura didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat was tight and her chest ached in the strangest, most beautiful way.
He looked so different in that mont.
Not like the guy who destroyed raid bosses and made won blush with a half-smirk. Not even like the Allen she knew—sharp-tongued, teasing, always slightly too good-looking for his own sanity.
This Allen?
This Allen looked human.
She watched him breathe in slow, then turn toward her again.
"Anyway," he said, almost too casually, "I ca here because I heard your voice. You sounded worried. And I didn’t want you to feel guilty for what happened."
Azura blinked, startled. "It wasn’t—"
He tilted his head.
She huffed. "Okay, maybe a little. I did panic. Especially when you didn’t reply at all."
Allen winced slightly. "Ah. Yeah. That one’s on ."
She narrowed her eyes. "You ignored ."
"No," he said quickly. "No, I didn’t ignore you. It’s just... sotis, my personal ssages get drowned in the group chat notifications. You know how it is."
"Muted chats exist," she muttered.
He smiled sheepishly. "I can’t. It’s ’our group’ chat. The girls are there."
She huffed. "I see."
"So," she said after a mont, more careful this ti, "you really ca just for that? To make sure I didn’t bla myself?"
"Of course I did," Allen replied.
Her chest ward again. "You’re too soft sotis."
"You say that like it’s a bad thing."
She bit her lip and looked away.
"It’s not," she said.
And the silence that followed wasn’t awkward.
It was warm.
It was her heart figuring itself out in real ti.
Allen shifted closer—not close enough to touch, but close enough that she could sll the faint cologne on his jacket and see the curve of his jaw under the soft apartnt light.
"I ant what I said yesterday," he added. "About there being room. For you."
Azura’s fingers curled tighter.
He continued, "But I won’t push. I want you to choose it. For real. Not because I’m here. Not because of last night. Not even because we kissed."
She looked up, eyes eting his.
"I want you," he said softly, "to choose . If that’s what you want."
Azura stared at him, every inch of her body humming.
And sowhere deep inside—beneath the panic and hesitation and longing—
Sothing whispered.
’You already have.’
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