Villain Ch 1623. Hot-blooded Chaos Incarnate

Allen turned to them, eyes half-lidded, a smirk still tugging the edge of his mouth. Blood still dripped from his blade. His wings spread slightly, glowing faint with crimson mist, the aura of a monster not yet done playing.

“I don’t mind dancing with you guys here,” he said, voice low, almost teasing.

Larissa stepped forward, hips swaying like sin incarnate, her gaze locked on his. She didn’t even try to hide the hunger in her eyes.

“Then prove it,” she whispered, tilting her chin up, lips dangerously close to his.

Allen didn’t speak. He let the blade dissolve into mist, reaching for her waist with one hand—his touch cool, but electric. His other hand slid behind her neck, drawing her closer, breath brushing her lips.

Larissa’s heart pounded. This wasn’t the golden retriever version of Allen anymore. This was the one that made her legs shake with a single look.

He leaned down, grazing her cheek with his mouth before letting his lips rest beside her ear.

“You’re all mine in the Crypts,” he whispered. “Here? I’ll give you a taste.”

His hand trailed down her thigh—slowly, deliberately—and even with her armor still on, she trembled. She pressed closer, lips catching his in a deep, eager kiss. His response was rougher—hungrier—his tongue stealing a breath from her before biting her lower lip.

The others stood frozen in a mix of envy, heat, and maddening frustration.

“Shea,” Vivian hissed, “I’m going to combust.”

“I feel personally attacked by this whole scene,” Jane muttered, but she was grinning, undead hands idly wrapping around her own waist like she was imagining her turn.

Then…

-Pop!

The air shimmered, and with a comedic poof, a figure in a ridiculous duck costume appeared mid-air and plopped down hard with a squeak.

“HELLO!” a chipper voice called, too cheerful for the carnage around. “Sorry, guys, I just need to—”

Kafra froze.

Dead bodies everywhere. Blood smeared across glass tiles. A partially reassembled boss corpse twitching in the corner. Girls with flushed cheeks. One girl nearly straddling Allen, who looked like he’d just come back from a demon’s bloodbath fashion shoot.

And Allen?

He looked up at her with that same smile.

Smug. Slow. Beautifully unbothered.

She stared.

He tilted his head, still holding Larissa against him like they were dancing through hell.

“Problem?” he asked, voice soft and dark.

Kafra’s mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Her duck headgear wobbled slightly as she took an involuntary step back. Then forward. Then stopped. Her brain said run, but her heart—or something far lower—screamed stay.

She cleared her throat. “U-uh. Bugs. Yes. There are… uh… some bugs… in this place. And the kill ratio… and the drop table… and…” Her eyes locked with Allen’s. His eyes were like an abyss, sucking her into a place no admin protocol prepared her for.

Allen stepped forward. Slowly.

Too slowly.

Kafra stiffened.

He was close now. Really close. She could see the sweat on his neck, the faint curve of his collarbone, the pulse in his throat. Her face flushed.

He wasn’t even trying to seduce her.

And it was working.

Allen narrowed his eyes slightly, still amused. “You said something about bugs?”

Kafra blinked rapidly. “Y-yeah! The boss drop rate algorithm, uh, is currently… unstable? Like… your fight triggered too many reward flags and it sort of… overflowed?”

“Overflowed?” Allen repeated, taking one more step.

His presence radiated heat and menace and something worse… charm.

Unfiltered and dangerous.

“Y-yeah,” Kafra squeaked. “You weren’t supposed to get twenty-one Pale Heart Cores and those three Obsidian Fracture Crystals! That’s an S-rank boss loot… not—uh—not…” Her voice trailed off as Allen leaned just a little closer.

“Don’t worry,” he said, eyes locked with hers, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t mind breaking the system.”

Kafra forgot to breathe.

The duck beak on her costume fogged up from her own exhale.

“Y-you… look—awfully good—for someone who—who just killed a demon machine the size of a house.”

Allen tilted his head.

“You think so?” he asked, smiling. “You’re cute for someone sent to fix bugs.”

Kafra broke.

“I—OKAY!” she blurted, face red. “That’s enough! I’m teleporting all of you back to the Crypts. Emergency reset. Mandatory debug protocol.”

The girls blinked.

“Wait—” Vivian started.

“Too late,” Kafra squeaked, already typing mid-air on an invisible menu.

“NO WAIT I HAVEN’T EVEN—” Jane cried.

White light engulfed them.

“Buh-bye now!” Kafra said, voice high-pitched, flustered, and slightly panicked.

[FORCED TELEPORT ENGAGED.]

[Destination: Cursed Crypts ]

In a flash, they were gone.

And Kafra was left standing alone in a bloodstained boss room, breath shallow, face flushed, and heart pounding.

She looked down at her hologram menu.

“…Yeah. I need a vacation.”

The menu flickered a bit from the leftover interference, glitching faintly, but she barely noticed.

Her heart wouldn’t calm down.

Dammit.

She exhaled sharply and pressed her palms to her cheeks, trying to cool them.

“Get it together,” she muttered, pacing a few awkward steps. “You’re a staff. You’re neutral. You have protocols. You’re not supposed to drool over the hot-blooded chaos incarnate who wears a smirk like it’s armor and moves like sin. He is just Allen.”

Her lips twitched in frustration. That look Allen had? Yeah. She’d seen it before—on his father.

She remembered it clearly…

Jordan Goldborne, standing in front of a packed business summit, calmly dismantling a rival company’s entire profit model in five ruthless minutes.

Then came the smile—cold, confident, and just a little amused.

The kind of smile that said “You’re already bankrupt… you just haven’t figured it out yet.”

And Emma?

Don’t get her started. Emma Goldborne was practically a rogue AI in a girl’s body. That mischievous grin she wore when debugging code or designing new events? Same gleam in her eye. Always one step ahead. No filter. No fear.

And now Allen.

Allen had that same damn Goldborne blood. That raw, commanding energy.

But his was different.

His was… darker. Hungrier. A mix of savage control and something primal that set every nerve in her on fire. And the worst part?

He didn’t even try.

That made it worse.

“Nope. Nope. Not doing this.” Kafra spun on her heel and started typing with aggressive speed. “I’m a staff. I like my job. I like not being dragged into high-octane romance drama and thirst traps dressed as boss fights.”

The monster’s corpse twitched in the corner. Probably bugged still. Or reacting to residual aggro.

She didn’t care.

“Not falling for a player or him,” she said louder this time.

But the echo of Allen’s voice still lingered in her ears.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind breaking the system.”

Kafra’s breath hitched again.

She snapped her menu shut with a sharp flick.

“Ugh, seriously—get out of my brain, you smug bastard,” she muttered under her breath.

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