Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives Chapter 1848: Endgame Punishment

Villain Ch 1848. Endga Punishnt

They all knew what "she" ant.

They all knew her na.

None of them needed to say it.

Even now, her na lingered in the air like smoke that refused to clear. But Allen wasn’t going to waste energy on her—not today. Not when the sun was shining too arrogantly and his father was sitting there across the table already pretending to flip through the business section of the pad.

He was waiting.

Emma was watching.

And Allen, who usually didn’t give a damn about morning rituals, found himself halfway through a second croissant and—

Snorted.

It started as just a breath, but it surprised even him. The way it bubbled up. Not quite a laugh. But the ghost of one.

Emma raised a brow, her teacup halfway to her lips. "You okay there, sarcasm incarnate?"

Allen shook his head, amused despite himself. "No. Just thinking."

Jordan glanced over the rim of his reading glasses. "Dangerous habit."

They ate in silence for a few more bites, the quiet clinking of silverware against porcelain the only sound. The staff moved like shadows in the background—silent, trained, invisible when they needed to be.

Then Jordan set his cup down. "Right. I’ve made your schedule."

Allen looked up.

"For learning the business," Jordan said, tone even. "Wednesday. You’ll get two days to recover beforehand."

Allen leaned back slightly, sipping his coffee. "Sounds good."

Across the table, Emma choked on her tea. Loudly.

She coughed, then wiped her lips with a napkin, eyes wide for half a second before narrowing into a grin. "Recover?" she echoed, voice sweet and dangerous. "Wow. So considerate."

Allen arched a brow. "Don’t."

Emma leaned forward, smirk spreading slow. "I an... you even thought that maybe—just maybe—your beloved son might not be able to walk after the vacation."

Allen stared at her, deadpan. "Rude."

"Realistic," Jordan said, without even looking up from his toast.

Allen turned sharply toward him, voice incredulous. "Dad!"

Jordan shrugged, sipping his tea. "What? I know what a ’vacation’ ans when you’re involved. And three days with that lineup? You’re going to need IV fluids and an exorcism."

Emma was full-on snickering now, reaching for another berry like she hadn’t just watched her brother combust.

Allen pinched the bridge of his nose. "You people are impossible."

"Efficient," Jordan corrected mildly. "We like to plan around your poor life choices."

Allen shot him a glare.

Jordan only smiled, the picture of composed smugness. "Also." Then, casually, like it was nothing.

"Don’t forget to bring your VR device."

Allen arched a brow.

"You still have a job," Jordan added without missing a beat. "Devil Emperor."

Allen chuckled. "Yeah. I know."

It went quiet again for a mont. The kind of quiet that humd with thoughts not yet said.

Then Allen spoke.

"Dad."

Jordan folded his paper. "Hm?"

Allen’s gaze didn’t waver. "Seems like a player knows I’m the Devil Emperor."

That caught Emma’s attention too. She straightened slightly.

"He’s been chasing around," Allen continued, tone neutral, like he was reciting a weather forecast. "Got a little too close last ti. So I told him to face in the tournant."

Emma blinked. "Oh." Then she smirked. "Well. That escalated quickly."

Allen gave a faint shrug.

Emma rested her chin on her hand. "Honestly? I think it’s a good thing."

Jordan stayed quiet, watching both of them.

Emma went on. "There’s been a ton of threads about the Emperor lately. People are tired. I an—no offense, but they think you’re unbeatable. There’s this whole crowd hoping you’re not AI. That you’re just a really, really overpowered villain player instead."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Emma grinned. "Because people would rather lose to another human than to a program. Allen is scary, yeah. But he is personal. He teases. He monologues. He kills them dramatically. That’s better than so flawless, faceless AI."

Jordan nodded slowly. "You are not wrong."

Allen’s gaze flicked between them.

Jordan leaned back, folding his hands together. "If this player shows up at the tournant and challenges you publicly... then we may need to announce it. Confirm you’re not AI."

"Out loud?" Allen asked.

"Formally," Jordan clarified. "With consent from the devs and the team. We need to discuss it with them too. "

Allen went quiet. His fingers tapped the edge of his plate.

"I agree," he said finally. "I just don’t want it rushed."

Emma tilted her head. "Afraid they’ll hate you?"

Allen shook his head. "I’m afraid they’ll hate the ga."

Jordan studied him. "Explain."

Allen sighed. "If the Emperor is revealed as a player—soone with stats, with a face, with choices—then it changes the ga’s power balance. The Emperor has always been this myth. This endga punishnt. If I’m not code... then what else is real?"

Emma shrugged. "Isn’t that a good thing? Makes the world feel more alive."

"Yes and no," Allen said, voice thoughtful. "So people built their whole identity around the idea that I’m unbeatable because I’m not real. If I suddenly beco human? Then they’ll feel cheated. Like the story changed midway."

Jordan nodded once, eyes sharp. "It’s a risk. But not a fatal one. Players adapt. They always do. Look at any patch cycle. Look at any nerf outrage. Give it two weeks, and everyone’s theory-crafting again."

Emma grinned. "And let’s be honest—your fanclub? They might actually lose their minds."

Allen raised a brow. "True."

Jordan looked mildly disturbed. "We are monitoring those platforms, yes?"

Kai, who had quietly stepped in with fresh coffee, answered from behind them. "Of course, sir. The Emperor’s digital footprint is updated hourly."

Allen rubbed the bridge of his nose. "God."

Emma giggled. "You’re like a sexy war cri."

Jordan sighed. "Charming."

Allen exhaled. "If we do go public, I want it to be during the tournant. No leaks. No sudden forum posts. No glitched forum threads."

Jordan nodded. "Agreed. We’ll talk to the narrative team. Make it an event. A reveal. Control the shock."

Emma sipped her tea. "And if that player—what’s his na?"

"Elio."

She humd. "If he makes it to the top, you going to let him win?"

Allen didn’t hesitate. "No."

Jordan smiled faintly. "Of course not."

Allen leaned back, his coffee cooling in his hand. "But I’ll make him earn the truth."

Emma smirked. "That’s why they love you. You’re terrifying and theatrical."