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nVillain Ch 401. Longing And Regret 𝘦𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝑙.

nThe intense battle between Allen and Jordan faded from the arena. Allen’s avatar disappeared into pixels. Simultaneously, the pods housing Allen and Jordan slowly opened, releasing them from the immersive duel. They climbed out of the pods, their expressions marked by a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

nOnce the two men, one older and one younger, walked toward the awaiting crowd, Jordan extended his hand toward Allen, a genuine smile forming on his lips as he said, “Congratulations, Allen. You fought brilliantly.”

nAllen shook Jordan’s hand firmly, his own exhaustion giving way to a sense of accomplishment. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity,” Allen replied with gratitude. “And I must say, I’m extremely impressed with your skills, sir. Even at your age, you’re nothing short of extraordinary. You are truly the goal of all gamers.”

nJordan chuckled modestly, his demeanor a mix of pride and humility. “Thank you,” he said, appreciating the compliment. He turned to Emma. “So, who’s next?” he asked, not ready to let the competition end.

nEmma, still wearing her disappointment, frowned. “Do we really want to continue this?” she questioned, her enthusiasm waning.

nJordan’s gaze hardened as he shot her a stern look. “Is this match only for Allen then?” His words carried an undertone of disapproval, making it clear he was not pleased with her reluctance.

nEmma pursed her lips, sensing her father’s displeasure. “No,” she replied, relenting.

n“Good,” Jordan said firmly. “Now, invite our other guests to join in and test their mettle.”

nEmma nodded, her pout subsiding as she accepted her father’s directive. “Yes, Dad,” she responded, ready to follow through with his wishes.

nThe match proceeded with Zoe and Shea taking their places in the pods. As they entered the virtual arena, the duel commenced with a burst of action and strategy.

nIn the heat of the virtual battle, Jordan couldn’t help but feel the urge to connect with Allen on a deeper level. The swirling clash of swords and spells in the duel arena faded into the background as he leaned toward his newfound son.

n“Mind chatting with me in another room?” Jordan asked, his voice barely a whisper amidst the cacophony of the match.

nAllen, his eyes locked onto the fast-paced duel unfolding before him, seemed momentarily hesitant. “Don’t you want to watch their game?” he countered, his tone tinged with curiosity.

nJordan considered the question for a brief moment, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on the two combatants engaged in fierce combat. “The dome will record it automatically,” he reasoned, his lips curling into a faint smile. “I will watch this another time.”

nUnable to refuse the elder’s request, Allen finally relented. With a simple, “Okay,” he agreed.

nJordan cast his eyes upon Emma again. “Entertain our guests. I want to talk to Allen for a bit,” he said, his voice carrying a rare, contemplative tone.

nEmma furrowed her brow, momentarily puzzled by her father’s request.

n“Sure, Dad,” she replied, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before returning to the intricate dance of virtual combat. Emma had a hunch that her father’s decision was somehow connected to the previous match.

nAllen followed Jordan out of the secluded room, leaving behind the atmosphere of confidentiality and the hushed murmurs of the adjacent arena. They entered a more spacious and well-appointed living room, where a sense of serenity replaced the previous intensity of battle.

nThey settled into comfortable chairs. Jordan’s gaze was steady, and Allen couldn’t help but notice a mixture of emotions in his eyes – a blend of curiosity, longing, and perhaps even a touch of regret.

nBefore Allen could utter a word, Jordan turned his attention to a nearby servant with an air of quiet authority. “Prepare some tea for us,” he instructed, his voice firm yet tinged with warmth. Without hesitation, the servant acknowledged the request with a respectful nod and swiftly went about the task.

nThe momentary pause allowed Allen to take in his surroundings – the tasteful décor, the soft hues that adorned the walls, and the subtle aroma of fresh flowers graced the room.

nShortly, the servant skillfully prepared a tray with delicate tea cups, fragrant leaves, and a steaming teapot. Jordan seized the opportunity to initiate the conversation. With a gracious smile, he motioned toward the table, where the tea was being arranged.

n“This is special tea. Try it,” he invited, his voice carrying the warmth of a host welcoming a guest. He reached for the teapot and poured a rich, aromatic brew into two ornate cups, steam curling up like wisps of contemplation.

nAllen acknowledged the gesture with a nod of gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice calm and appreciative.

nWith their tea in hand, the two settled into their seats once more, the porcelain cups cradled gently as they began to sip. The flavors danced on their palates, a testament to the quality of the tea chosen for this special occasion.

nTaking a moment to savor the exquisite taste, Jordan shifted the focus of the conversation. “I must admit, your skills in the arena are truly impressive,” he remarked, his eyes fixed on Allen’s with a newfound respect.

nAllen’s chest swelled with a mixture of pride and humility at the compliment. “Thank you,” he replied, his words carrying a sincerity.

n“Tell me, Allen, what is your impression about the Devil Emperor? Are you happy when you play it?” Jordan inquired, genuine curiosity etched on his features.

nAllen leaned back, his gaze distant for a moment as he contemplated the question. “I’m happy with it,” he admitted, a hint of a grin touching his lips. “It’s the first time I’ve had the chance to fully embrace my darker side in a game like this. It’s liberating, in a way.”

nJordan nodded in understanding. He had sensed that Allen’s character was more than just a role-play; it was a manifestation of certain facets of his personality, ones that had remained hidden for a long time. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, I can see that,” he mused, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You are very merciless when it comes to killing,” he teased, a playful glint in his gaze.

nAllen’s lips curved upward in response, forming a wry but appreciative smile. “I’ll count that as a compliment,” he replied, his tone light. His prowess in the game was something he took pride in, and he didn’t shy away from acknowledging it.

nJordan leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “It is,” he admitted, his tone sincere. “In fact, I’m very interested in what caused you to adopt that kind of side. Do you have some kind of trauma or something?” he asked, his gaze probing yet gentle.

nAllen paused for a moment, contemplating the question. Memories, both distant and recent, flashed through his mind. The scars he carried were not physical, but they had left their mark nonetheless. “Trauma, perhaps not,” he began cautiously. “But life has a way of teaching me things, shaping my perspective in unexpected ways.”

nJordan nodded. He had seen firsthand how challenges and adversities could mold a person’s character. “We all carry our burdens,” he noted, his voice tinged with empathy. “Mind telling me one?”

nAllen hesitated for a moment, his eyes shifting as he contemplated how to respond to Jordan’s probing question. The room felt hushed, filled only with the faint clinking of tea cups and the soft rustle of curtains stirred by a gentle breeze.

n“What if I start first?” Jordan offered.

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