Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1524

Chapter 1524: Unknown Number [Part 2]
Villain Ch 1524. Unknown Number [Part 2]

A few coworkers glanced over from their desks, mildly annoyed, one of them muttering something about how people really needed to put their phones on silent.

His heart kicked up a notch. He didn’t move. Just stared. Hands frozen. Mind blank.

Who the hell was this?

He could feel the sweat forming under his shirt collar, clinging to his skin where the office AC wasn’t reaching. The ring tone kept going, too cheerful for how tense his chest felt.

Finally, just to shut it up, he swiped to decline again.

The call ended.

He was just about to block the number—thumb hovering over the block option, brows furrowed hard enough to leave wrinkles—when another message popped up.

Unknown number: I’m from Urban Enigma’s magazine. I’m Sophia’s supervisor and I need to talk to you about her crime.

Darren blinked.

Read it again.

“Her crime.”

Something about those two words flipped a switch in his brain. He sat up a little straighter. Frowned deeper. The initial paranoia faded, replaced by something colder. Sharper.

Did Sophia mess with this guy too?

Was he another victim?

Shit.

His thumb hovered over the screen again, unsure. He glanced toward Janine’s cubicle, where she was now sipping iced tea and half-watching a video while waiting for her script to compile. No one else was paying attention to him. Just a dude with a weird expression staring at his phone like it held a nuclear launch code.

Then the phone rang again.

Same number.

Darren stared at it.

The ringing felt louder now, even though the volume hadn’t changed. His heart pounded in sync with each buzz of the vibration.

Okay. Screw it.

He slid his finger across the screen and brought the phone to his ear.

“…Hello?”

There was a pause.

Then a calm, adult male voice spoke. “Hello, is this Darren?”

His throat was dry. “Yeah. Who’s this?”

“I’m Mr. Bell. Sophia’s supervisor at Urban Enigma. Like I said before, we need to talk.”

Darren’s chair creaked as he straightened up fully. His eyes flicked toward his monitor—his screen filled with code he couldn’t read right now if someone paid him. He looked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the edge of the office. Outside, the sun was still shining. The sky was clear. But inside?

His gut was churning.

“…What do you want to talk about?” he asked cautiously.

“This isn’t a conversation I’d recommend having in your workplace,” Mr. Bell replied, voice calm but direct. “Are you able to step out for a few minutes?”

Darren licked his lips. He was starting to sweat. Again.

“Yeah. Hold on.”

He got up, grabbed his phone charger just in case, and murmured something about taking a break to Janine as he passed her desk. She gave a thumbs-up without looking.

As he stepped into the elevator and jabbed the ground floor button, Darren’s grip tightened around the phone. His thoughts were racing now.

So this guy was real. A supervisor. And he said her crime. Not ‘situation.’ Not ‘incident.’ Straight-up crime.

What the hell did Sophia do this time?

He stepped outside the glass doors of the building, blinking as the sunlight hit him. The air smelled like warm asphalt and cheap perfume from someone’s cologne bomb down the sidewalk. Traffic passed by lazily, the occasional honk, a motorbike backfiring in the distance. He walked down the block a bit until he found a quieter corner near a small alleyway between a noodle shop and a closed massage parlor.

“Okay,” he said finally into the phone. “I’m outside. Talk.”

Mr. Bell’s voice remained calm. “Thank you. I’m sorry for the sudden contact, but this is time-sensitive. I’m calling because Sophia has been under internal investigation for harassment and blackmail. Your name came up.”

Darren stopped in his tracks.

His hand clenched around the phone. “What?”

“I can’t go into too much detail over the phone,” Mr. Bell continued. “But I believe you’ve had previous… experiences with her. Ones that might support what we’ve found.”

Darren leaned against the wall, eyes darting toward the busy street. “Yeah. You could say that.”

There was a pause.

“I understand this might be uncomfortable,” Mr. Bell said gently. “But if you’re willing, I’d like to ask for your help. We need to confirm a pattern. This isn’t just about you—or her. This is about work ethic and justice.”

Darren’s stomach dropped.

Pattern?

Sophia… had others?

He swallowed, his mouth dry. His pulse thudded in his ears.

“I… Yeah,” he muttered. “Okay. I’ll talk. But I’m not giving you anything until I know this isn’t a setup.”

“Of course. That’s fair. We can meet in person. Neutral ground. Or if you prefer, we can include your legal rep on the next call. Or maybe bring a friend or another victim to join us.”

Darren rubbed a hand down his face. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone to say she’s not untouchable.”

“I might,” Mr. Bell replied softly.

That one line made Darren pause.

“…You too?”

Another pause. “Let’s just say I’ve seen too much. And it’s gone on too long.”

Darren exhaled. For the first time in a while, it wasn’t shaky. Just… long. Relieved.

“All right,” he said finally. “Tell me when and where.”

There was a pause—just long enough to make Darren second-guess if he’d just agreed to something stupid—before Mr. Bell replied.

“Tomorrow. 3 PM. There’s a café called Nimbus on 8th and Camden. Quiet spot, we use it for offsite meetings sometimes. Ask for the name Mr. Bell at the counter.”

“Got it,” Darren said, already committing it to memory.

“And… Darren?”

“Yeah?”

“I appreciate this. I know it’s not easy.”

Darren stared out at the street again. A food cart vendor was handing over change, a kid was blowing bubbles on the sidewalk, and a pigeon strutted across the curb like it owned the whole block. Life kept moving.

But inside?

Something had shifted.

“I’ll bring another victim,” Darren said suddenly.

Mr. Bell was silent for a second. “You know someone else?”

“He’s a friend. Name’s Liam. She dragged him into it too. We’ve both been dealing with the fallout.”

“…Understood. Bring him.”

Darren’s jaw tightened. “We just want this to end.”

“I know,” Mr. Bell said. “We’re going to make sure it does.”

Darren hung up, pocketed the phone, and finally exhaled.

It was time to finish this.