Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1554

Chapter 1554: Jordan Goldborne
Villain Ch 1554. Jordan Goldborne

“I know,” Jordan said. “But if it ever becomes too much—”

He leaned closer to Allen.

The glow from the desk lamp drew long shadows across the hard lines of his face, making him look older, sharper, more like a figure carved from decisions and secrets instead of flesh and blood. There was something heavy in the way his eyes locked on Allen’s—a stillness that didn’t belong to the man Allen joked with over dinner or traded quips with over dungeon designs.

This was different.

This wasn’t Dad.

This was Jordan Goldborne.

The man behind the empire. The one who made alliances fall apart with a handshake. Who could strip the armor off a corporate board with a sentence and bury enemies with a single whisper.

“I will make my move,” Jordan said.

And those words—those five simple words—were enough to make Allen’s entire body stiffen.

He didn’t respond immediately.

Didn’t breathe.

Because that tone…

That gaze…

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t cruel. It was calculated. Precise.

It was the kind of tone Allen used as the Devil Emperor—when he told players their strategies wouldn’t save them. When he stood at the edge of their hope and burned it down with a single spell.

That’s what it felt like.

Sitting across from Jordan in that moment…

Was like staring at himself.

Not Allen Goldborne.

But him.

The one that players feared. The one that controlled shadows, summoned demons, punished the arrogant.

Jordan didn’t break eye contact.

And Allen… Allen had never seen him like this.

Not even in the game. Not even in the business meetings he’d overheard.

This wasn’t a mask. This was the man.

And then, just as quickly as it appeared, that aura pulled back.

Jordan smiled again—gentle, like a breeze after a storm. “Don’t worry,” he said lightly, “it’s not like I’d kill them or destroy that family. I’m not evil.”

Allen blinked, only now realizing his jaw had gone tight.

Jordan leaned back again, posture relaxed. “I’m just going to let them know… that this ends here. The guilt games. The passive aggression. The cowardice. They don’t get to blame you anymore. And if they can’t manage that, then they don’t get to show themselves at all.”

He tapped once on the armrest. “Simple.”

Allen was still watching him, eyebrows slightly raised. “You’re really gonna do that?”

“Yes.” Jordan’s voice didn’t waver. “I won’t interfere in the family they built, Allen. They can keep that. But they don’t get to spit in your direction anymore just to make themselves feel cleaner.”

Allen was quiet. Processing.

Jordan tilted his head slightly. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t.”

Allen looked away. Not because he was unsure. But because the thought of anyone—even Jordan—touching that side of his past made something ache in his chest.

Then he said, low and careful, “No. Just… don’t make a scene. And don’t drag Evan into it.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Jordan said. “Evan seems like a decent young man.”

Allen nodded. “He is.”

“You two are close?”

Allen gave a soft smile. “As close as we can be, I guess. He’s a little awkward. Super curious. Still has that idealistic shine, you know?” He laughed under his breath. “He used to sneak into my room at night just to ask about my day.”

Jordan chuckled. “Clearly he has a good attitude.”

“Or bad influences.” Allen smirked. “Depends on the day.”

Jordan looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you trust him?”

Allen’s smirk faded a little, and he nodded. “Yeah. I do. Evan’s not the type to twist things. He wants to understand, not judge.”

Jordan seemed to weigh that for a moment. Then he said, “Then he’s not the problem. Which is good. I don’t enjoy targeting people unnecessarily.”

There was a beat.

Allen’s gaze shifted toward the desk—those monitors still casting flickers of blue and amber against the room’s warm tones. He could see numbers scrolling, data dancing. It all looked so clean. So controlled.

He wondered if Jordan ever felt this out of control.

“…You really don’t have to do anything,” Allen said. “I can handle them. I’ve always handled them.”

“I know you can.” Jordan’s voice was calm again. “But that doesn’t mean you have to.”

Allen looked up.

Jordan smiled faintly. “You’re not alone anymore.”

It hit him harder than he expected.

That simple line. That quiet acknowledgment.

He wasn’t used to it.

His breath hitched, just slightly. Not enough to show. Just enough to feel. He looked away—not because he didn’t want to hear it, but because he did. And that made it worse somehow.

The silence between them sat heavy, but not uncomfortable. Just real.

They were still seated—Jordan leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, Allen slouched slightly back in the chair, his fingers absently grazing the edge of the armrest like it might anchor him.

Then Jordan spoke again, softer this time, but more direct.

“I know this is hard for you,” he said, eyes not leaving Allen’s. “Because you’re still mentally bound to them. You’ve still got all those memories… all those feelings.”

Allen didn’t move. Just stared at a small scratch on the desk’s surface. A groove probably no one else noticed.

“They’re still yours,” Jordan continued. “The good and the bad. They shaped you. I can see it. That’s why it still hurts.”

He paused, then leaned slightly forward, voice quiet but firm.

“But I don’t have that.”

No edge. No venom. Just honesty.

“I don’t share that history. I don’t have any lingering ties. No nostalgia. No guilt.”

Allen finally looked up.

Jordan’s expression didn’t shift. “That’s why I can do what you can’t. I’m not carrying the same weight. So let me carry this part.”

Allen blinked slowly.

He didn’t know what to say to that.

Not right away.

Because yes, Jordan was right.

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

He still felt them. Even if he hated it. Even if he swore, he moved on. Somewhere in him, those connections were still tangled around his ribs, frayed and bitter and bleeding in silence.

But Jordan? Jordan could cut clean.