Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1288

Chapter 1288: A New World Chapter 1288: A New World Villain Ch 1288.

A New World Nearby, Emma was sitting in front of her own mirror, receiving the same royal treatment.

Her dress was simple yet elegant, a deep emerald green that complemented her sharp eyes.

A delicate hairpin secured a soft twist in her hair, and her makeup was subtle, enhancing her natural features without overpowering them.

Allen glanced over at her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You look good, Em.

Like… really good.” Emma glanced at him in the mirror, her cheeks tinging slightly pink.

“Thanks.

You don’t look too bad yourself.

You clean up surprisingly well for a guy who spends half his time in sweatpants.” Allen laughed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The lightness of the moment helped, but it didn’t erase the tension hanging in the air.

Somewhere in another room, their father, Jordan Goldborne, was going through the same meticulous preparation.

Allen couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his father’s mind right now.

“Is Dad ready?” Allen asked.

“He’s probably grumbling about the hair gel,” Emma replied dryly, earning a laugh from him.

“I can picture that.” Allen adjusted his cufflinks, his sharp suit gleaming under the soft lights of the dressing room.

He felt every inch the part he was supposed to play, but the knot in his stomach wouldn’t let up.

“You look tense,” Emma said, her voice cutting through the quiet as she turned to face him.

Her green dress shimmered faintly, the hairpin in her updo catching the light.

Allen let out a slow breath, glancing at her in the mirror.

“I am,” he admitted, his tone more subdued than usual.

“Why?” He hesitated before answering, his reflection frowning back at him.

“Because this is my conference.

My first time appearing in public like this.

It’s… a new world for me.” Emma tilted her head slightly, studying him with a mix of curiosity and understanding.

“I can see that.

But everything will be fine, you know?” Allen turned to face her, crossing his arms.

“I know.

I’m the one leading this conference, and I’ve thought about a lot of possibilities.

I’ve brainstormed with so many people-dad included.” She raised an eyebrow.

“So?” “Still,” Allen said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I keep wondering if they’ll accept me or not.” Emma frowned slightly, stepping closer.

“Explain what you mean by that.

‘If they can accept me or not.'” Allen’s jaw tightened, and he leaned back against the counter.

“I grew up not as a ‘rich guy,’ you know?

There’s a lot I had to learn-still have to learn.

And now, I’m suddenly appearing at the top.

That’s going to invite… attention.

Not all of it good.” Emma studied him carefully, then let out a quiet laugh.

“You’re worried about the rich guy club, aren’t you?” Allen smirked faintly despite himself.

“Something like that.” “Well,” Emma said, her tone playful but reassuring, “let me clear things up for you.

Yeah, there’s a ‘rich guy club.’ But it’s mostly formalities-birthday parties, wedding parties, and stuff like that.

Sometimes golf.

A few people might throw wild parties, but you’re a Goldborne.

None of that really matters for you.” She paused, giving him a knowing look.

“And just so we’re clear, we don’t do shady things.

No clubs, no illegal activities, and dad keeps a tight leash on anything even remotely suspicious.

Not even wine or alcohol most of the time.

That’s just not our field.” Allen nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Got it.

Sounds good.

Better than what I was imagining.” Before Emma could reply, the door opened, and Jordan Goldborne stepped into the room, his presence commanding as ever.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his silver hair slicked back, he looked every inch the powerful tycoon he was.

“Are you ready?” Jordan asked, his voice steady but firm.

Allen straightened, nodding.

“Yeah.

Let’s go.” The air outside the mansion was cool, the evening sky painted in shades of deep orange and soft purple as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Allen walked alongside his father and Emma, the faint crunch of gravel under their polished shoes echoing in the quiet.

The sleek black helicopter came into view, its blades idling, creating a steady rhythm that filled the air.

It stood ready, a machine of both power and precision, waiting to take them to the conference.

Allen had never been in a helicopter before.

The realization hit him as they drew closer, the sharp lines of the aircraft gleaming under the fading sunlight.

He’d always seen them in movies or overhead, a symbol of status and convenience, but stepping into one himself?

That was new territory.

Emma glanced at him, noticing his brief hesitation.

“First time?” she asked, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

Allen nodded, his gaze fixed on the helicopter.

“Yeah.” “It’s not as glamorous as you think,” she said, her tone teasing.

“Loud, bumpy, and if you don’t like heights, well…” “I’ll manage,” Allen replied, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Jordan turned to them, his expression unreadable as always.

“Keep moving.

We’re on a schedule.” Allen followed, his steps steady as they approached the waiting crew.

A man in a crisp uniform greeted them with a nod, gesturing toward the open door.

“Mr.

Goldborne, Ms.

Goldborne,” the man said, his voice firm and professional.

“Everything is ready.” Jordan stepped in first, his movements efficient and practiced, as if he’d done this a hundred times.

Emma followed, casting Allen a brief look over her shoulder as she climbed in.

When it was his turn, Allen hesitated for just a moment.

The sound of the blades was louder now, the rush of wind tugging at his suit.

He placed a hand on the frame of the door, steadying himself as he stepped inside.

The interior was sleek, minimalist, and almost unnervingly luxurious.

The leather seats were pristine, the controls gleamed with polished precision, and the faint scent of leather and aviation fuel lingered in the air.

Allen took a seat across from Emma, buckling himself in as the crew closed the door behind them.

CREATORS’ THOUGHTS UnholyGod Your gift is the motivation for my creation.

Give me more motivation!

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