Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1466

Chapter 1466: Wisdom For Future Me
Villain Ch 1466. Wisdom For Future Me

He sat up slowly, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. The soreness hit him instantly—a dull ache that pulsed from calves to thighs.

He looked down at them, groaning. “Ugh. Right. I still have these useless noodles attached to my body.”

They were still functional, sure, but they protested every movement like he owed them money. He stretched one leg out and winced. “Okay. No treadmill. Definitely not stairs. So… what would a gym rat do right now?”

He grabbed his phone and typed:

“What to do when your legs ache after leg day.”

Enter.

Top result: foam rolling.

Allen squinted. “Right. That torture stick.”

He didn’t have a foam roller. But he did have a massage gun in his closet—thank you, Kai—and a cold compress tucked away in his mini-fridge. He hauled himself up with a grunt, limped over to the closet, and dug around until he found the gun and one of those menthol creams labeled something overly dramatic like FrostStrike Recovery+.

He sat back down on the bed, pulled up his sweatpants, and began applying the cream. The scent of minty eucalyptus immediately filled the air, sharp and eye-watering.

“Oh yeah, that’s strong,” he muttered, dabbing a bit more before turning on the massage gun.

The moment it hit his thigh, he groaned—half relief, half pain. “Gah—okay. Okay. That’s… that’s doing something.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Allen sat there like some kind of tired gym influencer, rotating between massaging his legs and muttering quiet curses under his breath. He might’ve cried a little. No one would ever know.

After that, he limped over to his mini-fridge, pulled out the cold pack, and slapped it on the worst spot like he was punishing it. “You brought this on yourself,” he muttered at his leg.

Once he was reasonably sure he wouldn’t collapse if he stood for longer than thirty seconds, he glanced over at the gym bag sitting innocently on his bed.

Right. The bag.

The bag.

Allen stared at it like it might explode. Then, with the cautious grace of someone diffusing a bomb, he unzipped it and peeked inside.

Still there.

The harness belt. The gloves. The… other stuff.

He groaned into his hand, faceplanting into the mattress. “I cannot believe Azura saw it.”

She hadn’t freaked out, thankfully. Actually… she’d been surprisingly calm. Curious, sure, but not judgmental. Still, Allen wasn’t about to let this stuff lie around. Not when Emma was in the house. She’d turn it into a meme within minutes.

He pulled everything out carefully, laid it flat on the bed, then grabbed a clean storage box from under his bed—one of those discreet ones he used for old cosplay gear and stuff he never wore but couldn’t throw out. He folded the items neatly, put them inside, and pushed the box far back beneath his bed.

“Hidden. Safe. Out of sight. Out of Emma’s hands,” he muttered, dusting his hands off like he’d just done something heroic.

He sat back down, his body finally starting to cool from all the soreness and chaos. His mind wandered again.

He could log into Hell’s Gate. Check auction house prices. Maybe run a few dailies. There was always something going on in-game, and his guild was probably itching to see what he’d do next post-raid.

Or… he could write. His WIP wasn’t going to finish itself, and his Discord server had been quiet for a couple of days. He owed them an update.

But still…

His eyes drifted to the window, sunlight filtering through the half-closed curtains, warming the floor in soft golden streaks. There was something about this moment—alone in his room, the noise dialed way down—that made him want to pause. Not rush.

He leaned back, resting his head against the wall, and stared at the ceiling again.

Maybe, for once, he could just exist.

Goldborne. Devil Emperor. Writer. Brother. Teammates. Lovers.

He smiled to himself, a quiet breath escaping.

Yeah. This life? It might be overwhelming sometimes. Complicated. Chaotic. Embarrassing beyond words.

But damn… it was his.

And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Allen smirked to himself as the cooling patch tingled on his sore thighs. The absurdity of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours made him want to laugh—between the post-raid teasing, Azura’s confession, Emma’s sabotage, and the harness incident, it was like living in the middle of a romantic comedy with action cutscenes.

He glanced at his desk, his laptop sitting closed but inviting. A small notification light blinked gently on the side, like it was politely reminding him that work existed.

“I guess I’ll write a couple chapters before going online,” he muttered, pushing himself off the bed. “At least let my legs recover before diving back into combat.”

He took a careful step, grimacing as his thighs still protested. “Or I should hire a therapist or something.”

Allen paused mid-step, the mental image creeping up before he could stop it.

Walking into a clinic, trying to explain to a professional, stone-faced therapist that his legs were destroyed because he went too hard on leg day… and then followed that up with an all-night session of sex—he groaned. “Nope. Nope.”

He laughed to himself, dragging his chair out and flopping down into it. “What kind of idiot has sex all night after a leg day?”

The image of a therapist slowly lowering their clipboard with a deadpan stare popped into his head, and he cracked up, burying his face in his hands.

“No, seriously. They’d have me committed.”

He tapped the power button on the laptop, the screen flaring to life as it woke from sleep. His open doc file automatically loaded—a few paragraphs from where he last left off. Some dramatic tension between the warlock protagonist and his dragoness wife. Very on-brand.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, his mind slowly tuning itself to that familiar creative rhythm.

Despite the soreness, despite the chaos—he was ready to sink into his world again.

But before that… he opened his notes tab and typed something quickly.

“Do NOT do leg day before sexy group scenes ever again.”

He sat back, stared at it for a moment, then nodded solemnly.

“Wisdom for future me.”

And with that, he started to type.