Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives-Chapter 892 Mythical

Villain Ch 892. Mythical

Emma's eyes narrowed, but she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"But... I have to remind you..." Allen's voice dropped to a hiss, his smirk widening into a more menacing grin. He leaned in closer, their faces inches apart, the spoon still hovering between them. "Dad probably doesn't like seeing how you sit on my lap and flirt with me. You did it once, remember?" His voice was low, each word dripping with implication.

Emma's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She remembered that incident all too well.

"And I have to say, this is nothing compared to it," Allen added, his smirk never faltering. "At least, you don't touch me here and there," he said, his tone turning mockingly light. The memory of her hands roaming in a misguided attempt to annoy him flashed through his mind, and he could see from Emma's expression that she remembered it too.

Emma's blush deepened, her defiance momentarily shaken. She glanced at Azura, who stood nearby with a mixture of shock and unease, clearly unsure of how to intervene.

"You wouldn't," Emma hissed, her voice shaking slightly but still challenging.

Allen's smirk softened into a more genuine smile, though his eyes remained sharp. "Try me," he said simply.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the silence stretching out between them. Then, slowly, Emma's resolve seemed to waver. She pulled back slightly, her grip on the spoon loosening.

Azura, sensing a shift in the dynamic, stepped forward cautiously. "Emma, maybe we should just let this go," she suggested gently, her eyes pleading with Emma to back down. "It's not worth it."

Even though Emma hated to admit it, what Allen said was true. She could remember everything clearly. The incident from before flashed in her mind—Allen had been just as immovable then as he was now. He had the same look on his face, not one of annoyance but of deep disappointment. That look had always stung more than any words he could have said.

He hated being pushed around, and this was no different. Even though a part of him wanted to give Emma a chance, he knew better. If he relented now, it would set a precedent. Emma, with her stubborn nature, would likely repeat this behavior, thinking it was acceptable. This wasn't a battle he could afford to lose, not if he wanted to avoid long-term problems.

Emma's gaze flicked between Allen and Azura, her expression conflicted. The fire in her eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a mixture of frustration and reluctant acceptance. She finally released her hold on Allen and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fine," she muttered, her voice sulky but resigned. "I will let you win this time," she said in a cocky tone.

Allen managed a teasing smile, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "Should I say thank you then?" he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Emma huffed in annoyance, her expression a mix of frustration and begrudging acceptance. "You should," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes still fixed on Allen.

"Thank you," Allen said in an annoyingly sarcastic tone. It came out more as a sneer than genuine gratitude.

Emma stood up from her seat, her pout deepening. She knew she couldn't force him any further without making things worse. With an exasperated huff, she decided to leave. Her movements were sharp, conveying her frustration with every step.

Azura glanced at Allen, offering an awkward smile before quickly following Emma, the tension in the room still palpable.

Allen sighed heavily. He watched as Emma walked towards the door, her steps hurried and her posture rigid. Just as she was about to step out of the room, Allen spoke again, his voice softer but carrying the same firmness.

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"You should listen to Azura on this," he said, his eyes following her movements.

The words made Emma pause. She stopped in the doorway and turned to face him, her expression a mix of irritation and curiosity. Experience more on novelbuddy

"If… you feed me gently, I will accept it. You are my sister, after all," Allen continued, his tone sincere and gentle.

Emma bit her lips, the pressure turning them white, but she maintained her annoyed face. Her eyes flickered with a mixture of emotions, something softer that she refused to let show. She stood there for a heartbeat longer.

But she didn't say anything. Instead, she turned on her heel and left, her steps quick and deliberate. The door closed behind her with a soft click, the sound echoing in the room.

Allen once again took a deep breath. "Seriously, she should be acting cuter," he grumbled, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite his irritation. He knew it was a futile wish; real life didn't follow the scripts of slice-of-life stories he enjoyed. Many of his friends had echoed the same sentiment—having a little sister wasn't nearly as idyllic as depicted in those tales.

"That's why slice-of-life stories contain a lot of the author's self-insertion," he murmured to himself. The idea of a sweet, harmonious sibling relationship was often more fiction than reality. Brothers and sisters who were genuinely affectionate and gentle with each other were rare, almost mythical.

His attention shifted to the plate of salmon on the table. The aroma was enticing, and his stomach growled in response. He approached, ready to finally enjoy his lunch, but then something caught his eye. There was another plate on the food trolley, covered by a food cloth. Curiosity piqued, he lifted the lid.

Beneath it, he found a plate of fried fries, their slightly burnt ends suggesting they were clearly not cooked by the chef or any of the household servants. On the large plate, there was also a pool of ketchup carefully shaped into the words, "Eat well, brother." The sight made him chuckle, a warmth spreading through his chest.

"Emma…" he muttered, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and affection. She had put in the effort to make something for him, despite the roughness of their earlier encounter. Her methods might have been flawed, but the intention was undeniably there. She just didn't know how to express herself and he guessed it because she was the only child before.

"Well, I guess in my case, it's not really fiction," he said softly to himself. "I just need to teach them how to express their intentions better."