Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 584 Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys

Chapter 584 Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys

?Villain Ch 584. Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys

Allen strolled into his apartment, kicking off his shoes. Gym bag slung over one shoulder, he tossed his jacket onto the back of a chair. Business as usual. But today, instead of diving into the ritualistic routine of unpacking his gym gear, he veered towards the window, navigating past the maze of half-empty boxes that cluttered his space.

The city sprawled beyond the glass, a chaotic orchestra of honking horns and distant sirens. Allen's eyes zeroed in on the street below, and there it was—a yellow taxi, stubbornly stationed across the way.

A slow grin crept across his face, a mix of amusement and intrigue. "Sophia, Sophia, so that's your game," he mumbled, the words dripping with a melody that echoed a sense of enjoyment, like he'd just uncovered the juiciest plot twist in some suspense thriller. At first, he didn't quite grasp the nuances of her plan, but it dawned on him – she was playing it cool. Ice queen style. Trying to lull him into a false sense of security or cloak her own movements. Sneaky, sneaky.

Leaning in closer to the window, Allen surveyed the scene like a detective. Sophia wasn't just after a casual meet-up; she wanted the whole enchilada. Intel on his digs, his crew, his quirks – everything. It was a chess game, and she was making her move.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he appreciated the chessboard laid out before him. The city flickered, casting shadows that danced across the room, mirroring the dance of intrigue playing out in the streets below.

At first, Allen was oblivious. But this wasn't his first rodeo; he'd been in situations where paranoia was a survival instinct. So, somewhere mid-block, it clicked. That yellow cab had been dogging his steps for a while now. The game was afoot.

Rather than playing the dodge-and-weave game, Allen took a different route. He embraced the chase, leading the taxi straight to the heart of his territory. His apartment. Why not give Sophia the grand tour, especially when he was packing up and shipping out the next day? It'd be a wicked twist to let her show up only to find an empty space echoing with her own footsteps.

Shortly, with a rev of the engine, it peeled away from the curb. Allen watched it disappear into the cityscape, his mind already ticking like a time bomb.

"Tomorrow or the day after," he mused, "Sophia would make her move." Whatever that move was. Allen couldn't help but chuckle. Every twist and turn was fair game, and he was ready to play. Game on.

Allen shifted his gaze, his eyes wandering away as if searching for answers in the unseen corners of his apartment. "I wonder why she followed me solo this time. I thought she still had those two minions," he muttered, a mix of curiosity and contemplation in his voice. Liam and Darren, the tag-along duo who used to be Sophia's entourage. Since the Sophia-Elio love train derailed, it seemed to be just the dynamic duo now.

He shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Guess even their buddy system's on the rocks," Allen mused, unpacking his gym bag. Sweaty clothes in hand, he headed for the laundry corner of his place.

As he tossed his clothes into the washer, the gears in Allen's mind turned. Maybe Sophia and her sidekicks were going through a rough patch too. Elio and Sophia's falling out was like the domino that knocked over the whole set, sending Liam and Darren into a spiral.

'Pride,' Allen thought, nodding to himself. Liam had that in spades. Crazy about Sophia or not, everyone had their breaking point. He pictured Liam, unable to stomach being a pawn in Sophia's game of cat and mouse with him. Like a shaken soda, the fizz was bound to fizzle out sooner or later.

He smirked, a devil-may-care attitude settling in. "Not my circus, not my monkeys," Allen thought, grabbing his phone. A quick message to Alex confirmed his safe arrival home. The reply buzzed in—courier on the way.

True to Alex's word, within the next half hour, a knock echoed through the apartment. Allen swung the door open to a delivery guy, lugging in the tangible pieces of his life. Clothes, gaming gear – the essentials for a gamer carving his space in the digital and physical realms. His laptop and the VR device stayed in Allen's possession, of course.

Today's move was a strategic operation, orchestrated by Alex. The grandmaster of relocation had a plan. The gaming gear and some miscellaneous items were today's victims, with the meticulous arrangement of Allen's new room. Alex had arranged to ensure the seamless dance of furniture and gadgets.

Allen leaned against the doorframe, watching the courier wrangle with his belongings. The art of moving wasn't just about shoving things into boxes; it was a symphony of organization and timing. Alex had taken charge.

Tomorrow, the second wave of items would make their entrance, the more crucial pieces that Allen deemed too precious to entrust to anyone but Alex.

An hour stretched into what felt like a small eternity, and the courier had done his vanishing act, magically relocating everything with ninja-like efficiency. Allen surveyed the scene—less furniture, more open space. Alex's input had been the secret sauce, helping him navigate through the maze of decisions about what to keep and what to ship to the new digs.

From his vantage point on the sofa, Allen eyed the nearly empty room. Most of his trusty furniture had earned its right to stay, cozying up in familiar corners like old friends. A quick mental checklist told him the place was ready for a new chapter.

His eyes roved over the remaining boxes, like stragglers in a parade that had moved on without them. "Why does it feel like I haven't moved anything?" Allen mumbled to himself, the echo of his voice bouncing off the walls. Yet, amidst the lingering sense of déjà vu, he couldn't deny the potential for something fresh and exciting.

But, wait, there was more to this grand shuffle than just personal satisfaction. A sly grin crept onto Allen's face as he contemplated his next move. Rent it out, he thought. Turn this space into a gold mine, courtesy of some savvy property dealings. 'Passive income, baby,' he thought.

He sprawled on the sofa, gazing at the ceiling like it held the secrets of the universe. The boxes had vanished, but a few stragglers remained, a testament to the ebb and flow of change. "Change is the only constant, they say," he muttered, contemplating the cliché with a smirk.

His fingers drummed on the armrest as he considered his next move. "I should write now," Allen decided, pushing himself up.

With a purposeful flick, Allen opened his laptop, the glow illuminating his face as the blank screen beckoned. His fingers danced on the keys, orchestrating a tale that unfolded like a hidden city within his mind. An hour blurred into a whirlwind of words. He made a triumphant update, sealing a chapter.

Next, the VR device embraced his senses. Slipping it on, he plunged into the online realm. The city outside vanished.

Allen's avatar materialized in the Cursed Crypts' hall, the air thick with an otherworldly gloom. Normally, he'd find his trusty companions, the girls, ready for action. Instead, BattleGoddess stood before him.

She pouted, her visage conveying an almost tangible sense of displeasure. She crossed her arms, hands firmly on her hips, a stance that oozed both authority and impatience.

"I thought you were moving in today!" she complained, her voice echoing through the cryptic surroundings.

"Emma, why are you here?" he quipped in confusion.

Emma's persona seemed to crumble as her pout deepened. "That still doesn't answer my question," she declared, arms folded in mock indignation.

Allen chuckled, taking a moment before replying, "Tomorrow, not today. Alex did the heavy lifting, moving my stuff and setting things up." He could almost picture Emma's avatar raising an eyebrow.

Her eyes, bright and filled with curiosity, betrayed her shifting emotions. "So, you'll be moving in here tomorrow?" she inquired, the anticipation evident in her voice.

A grin played on Allen's lips as he confirmed, "Yeah, but not in the morning. Probably after I wrap up work." The air seemed to crackle with Emma's excitement.

However, her enthusiasm waned as she frowned, her features contorting with concern. "What work?" she pressed, demanding the answers.

"Modeling jobs," Allen replied.

"Huh? You're a model?" she questioned, her voice carrying an incredulous tone.

Cringing a bit at the unexpected scrutiny, Allen replied, "Yeah, didn't you hear about Urban Enigma magazine?" He attempted a nonchalant tone.

Emma's eyes widened as realization dawned. "Oh, right! I forgot about that," she admitted, a sheepish grin replacing her initial frown. The memory seemed to click back into place like a missing puzzle piece.

But just as quickly as the amusement surfaced, a frown etched its way back onto Emma's features. "But I thought it was just a gig. You're a young master now. How could you possibly become a freelance model like that?" Her words held a mixture of confusion and concern.