Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1523

Chapter 1523: Unknown Number [Part 1]
Villain Ch 1523. Unknown Number [Part 1]

Darren sat hunched at his desk, eyes half-focused on the lines of code swimming across his dual-monitor setup. His fingers moved with that tired precision only a seasoned office grunt could manage—calculated, fast, but with a soul-deep boredom that came from fixing the same bug for the tenth time.

The overhead fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, flickering now and then like they were about to give up entirely. The faint smell of overused coffee grounds clung to the carpet like regret.

His VR headset sat on the far edge of his desk, next to his favorite chipped mug and a tangled mess of wires. The headset was still warm, faintly humming in rest mode.

It was his daily ritual: login during lunch, squeeze in a quick dungeon clear or check the trading board, and log out before anyone in management noticed he was breathing a little too freely.

Today was no different. The second lunch break ended, he logged out of Hell’s Gate, took a swig of sad office coffee, and returned to being Darren: quiet coder in a tech company no one outside of the dev floor really understood. Just how he liked it.

His inbox dinged. His chat app blinked. But Darren didn’t flinch.

He was finally… calm.

Sophia hadn’t texted in three days. No calls. No unexpected “Are you free now?” messages laced with guilt and ice. No cryptic voice memos. Just silence.

Which, given everything she pulled recently, was kind of a miracle.

Ever since that night—that stupid night—when he and Liam got tangled up in her mess and then watched her twist it into a weapon, things had been spiraling. She called it “passion.” She called it “exploring boundaries.” But Darren knew what it was… blackmail wrapped in fake smiles and heavy perfume.

Sophia had planned everything. Right down to the hidden phone in the drawer. The “consent” she conveniently forgot to mention when she tried to make them look like monsters.

But they’d flipped the script. He and Liam had gotten smart. Paranoid. Careful. And when Sophia confronted them last time—cornered them with that smug expression like she’d already won—they hit record.

Every word.

Every veiled threat.

Every smug little laugh about how “no one would believe them over her.”

They had it all.

Granted, it was a digital copy. It wasn’t much… But for now, it was something. Enough to buy a little peace.

Darren’s shoulders dropped. His fingers slowed. His brain, for once, didn’t feel like it was on fire.

He sipped from his mug and flinched.

Cold.

Disgusting.

Office coffee always tasted like burnt dreams, but today it was worse. Probably because he wasn’t distracted anymore. He actually noticed how gross everything was.

“Yo,” Janine called out over the cubicle wall, voice chipper and chaotic as always.

Darren tilted his head. “What now?”

“You remember that endpoint that was throwing errors last week? It’s doing it again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, and this time it’s leaking memory like a stabbed camel. My test app just hard-crashed. I thought my laptop was going to start smoking.”

Darren groaned. “Send me the logs.”

“Already did.” A USB thunked against his desk a second later, followed by Janine’s head poking up like a curious NPC. “Fix it and I’ll owe you boba.”

“You already owe me boba.”

“You’re needy.”

“I’m poor.”

Janine grinned, then vanished again.

Darren sighed and plugged in the USB, dragging the log file to his secondary screen. It was obvious right away—a thread loop not breaking under specific conditions. Something a junior dev probably slapped together at 2 a.m. on too much caffeine and not enough sleep.

He cracked his neck and got to work, eyes scanning line after line, trimming, fixing, reorganizing. And for the first time in a while, he was actually focused.

No Sophia.

No drama.

No guilt choking the back of his throat.

It felt like real peace.

Temporary peace, sure—but peace nonetheless.

He was just beginning to patch the file when his phone buzzed against the desk.

Darren glanced down lazily.

Unknown number.

He blinked. No contact name. Just a string of numbers. He frowned, swiped it away, and locked the screen.

Probably another scam trying to sell him some miracle investment or fake parcel delivery.

Back to code.

Then the phone buzzed again.

This time, a text.

Unknown Number: Is this Darren? Can we speak about Sophia?

He froze.

Stared at it.

Read it again.

And again.

His heartbeat thudded a little heavier than it should’ve.

What the hell?

No name. No context. No signature. No emoji, no punctuation. Just flat, clinical text. Like a machine wrote it. Or someone very careful.

He sat back, rubbing the side of his face. Was it her?

Was it someone else?

Liam?

No, Liam would just call. Or send memes. Or complain about how Sophia ruined his sleep schedule again. And if it was Sophia… she wouldn’t be that subtle. She’d send twenty texts and a voice message with her dramatic “we need to talk” tone.

So then… who?

Darren didn’t reply. He just sat there staring at the text like it was some kind of cursed item.

He considered blocking the number. He considered tossing the phone in a drawer and pretending it didn’t exist.

But mostly?

He just sat there.

Quiet.

Thinking.

Then, without really meaning to, he reached over and closed the VR headset case. Tight. Like he was sealing away a part of himself. That part—the gamer side, the Hell’s Gate side—that life wasn’t supposed to bleed into the real world like this.

He swiped the screen again. Still just the one message.

He didn’t reply.

Didn’t call back.

Just locked the phone and turned it face-down.

Again.

Because if this was about Sophia?

He wasn’t ready yet.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with both hands.

This was supposed to be a chill day.

He didn’t like this.

He didn’t like this at all.

Darren stared at the phone like it was something radioactive.

The screen lit up again, same number. It started ringing, loud and sharp.