Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1796: A Breach of Self-Control

Villain Ch 1796. A Breach of Self-Control

Vivian blinked. “Oh my god, she’s watching us.”

Allen closed his eyes. “I take it back. She’s 100% into me.”

Shea clapped. “Hey, at least she ships us.”

Jane stood up and yanked Allen to his feet. “Then let’s earn that bed.”

And as the girls led him toward the new system-gifted monstrosity of silk, shadows, and embarrassment…

He knew two things.

One—he was about to die a very happy man.

And two—Kafra was definitely going to need therapy after this.

The bed looked like it had been summoned straight out of a corrupted royal harem fantasy—pillars of obsidian at the corners, sheer curtains embroidered with red glyphs fluttering like they were alive, and the mattress? Deep black velvet that somehow glowed with a faint, suggestive pulse.

“Oh, she went all out,” Zoe muttered, dragging her fingers across one of the canopy posts. “Is this thing enchanted to bounce with rhythm?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Jane said, already pulling Allen by the waistband with zero shame. “Let’s test it.”

“Hold up,” Allen said, grinning as he paused the inevitable swarm. “If we’re gonna do this… let me set the stage.”

He smirked.

“Kafra,” he murmured under his breath, just loud enough for the system to maybe pick it up, “if you’re gonna crash my moment, the least I can do is give you a proper front-row seat.”

Since she had interrupted him, Allen decided—very deliberately—to mess with her.

He wasn’t the kind to hold grudges, not really. But if someone dropped a full loot list with a “Have fun! XD” in the middle of foreplay, they were asking for retaliation.

Especially if that someone was Kafra.

The lewd acts he was about to engage in—technically—weren’t visible to the average staff member. It was in the contract. Once Allen, as the player, clicked the “Consent to Intimacy” toggle and all involved parties agreed, the system blurred the feed from the inside out. Just fog. Color noise. Abstract nudity at best. No actual images or details. It was a privacy feature—one designed to protect them from creepy GMs, bugs, or worse.

But Allen knew the exception. The loophole. The fine print buried beneath paragraphs of legal babble.

There was one person in the entire system with override access to the admin feed.

Kafra.

Because she was one of Jordan’s most trusted handmen. If anything glitched, crashed, or caught fire inside Hell’s Gate, she was the one with her finger on the kill switch.

She was the safety net.

And that meant she saw everything.

Or at least… she could.

“What was that?” Vivian asked, raising an eyebrow as she straddled the bed, already half-out of her corset.

“Nothing,” Allen replied smoothly, flicking off his cloak and letting it fall to the side like a damn cape in a soap opera. “Just thinking about performance pressure.”

Jane was already pulling his shirt open—buttons flying in every direction. “Pressure? Please. We’re the ones who should be worried.”

“Speak for yourself,” Shea chimed in, crawling up the sheets like a siren about to drown someone. “I’m starving.”

The air shifted.

Heavy. Warm. Tinted with perfume, sweat, and the rising pulse of anticipation.

Allen didn’t let himself be overwhelmed.

No—he commanded the moment.

And yes… Kafra saw everything.

She didn’t mean to watch. Really.

At least that’s what she told herself.

It had started as a routine check. A harmless protocol ping. She was just going to verify the loot distribution, confirm the reward stream, then move on.

And yet here she was.

Still watching.

Still breathless.

Still blushing while wearing her VR device.

The admin panel had long faded into the background. All she saw now was him. Allen. Devil Emperor. Hell’s Gate’s living legend. And her biggest, most maddening problem.

He was… unfair.

Completely, utterly, unfair.

He moved through the scene like a star actor in a forbidden film—charming, calculated, smooth in a way that shouldn’t be allowed in full visual feed.

The girls weren’t even pretending to hold back—touching him, kissing him, offering themselves like they knew he could wreck them and wanted him to.

And Allen?

He kissed them one by one.

Claimed them like they belonged to him.

Like he’d already won them.

Which he had.

Kafra’s heart thudded violently against her ribs.

Her lip was caught between her teeth, breath growing shallower every time he groaned—or worse, laughed. That stupid, smug, quiet laugh that said he knew. He knew someone was watching. And he knew exactly who.

She could close it. She should close it.

Her hand hovered over the system override.

Just a single click, and the screen would go black.

The scene would blur, like it did for everyone else.

But her hand didn’t move.

Her knees pressed together, and her breath fogged the inside of her headset. She could smell the faint hint of cedar and magic from the immersion scent generator—a leftover from the Crypt’s environment data—but it might as well have been him.

Annoyingly, infuriatingly, devastatingly him.

He was just a player.

He wasn’t supposed to affect her like this.

But he did.

Ever since that first day she saw him, she should’ve flagged him as a problem.

Instead, she bookmarked him.

Watched him rise.

Watched how the girls flocked to him. How his kingdom grew. How his gameplay wasn’t just brilliant—it was personal. He made every action feel alive. Every decision a statement.

And now?

Now he was shirtless, buried beneath seven of the most powerful female characters in the game—his harem of elemental nightmares—and somehow, somehow he still had that same calm, devil-may-care grin as his hands roamed over them like they were his instruments.

Kafra’s headset buzzed.

[Admin Ping Timeout – 20 Minutes Inactive]

[Do you wish to continue monitoring the current session?]

She stared at the blinking [YES/NO] prompt.

She should press No.

This was wildly unprofessional.

Possibly a breach of ethics.

Definitely a breach of self-control.

But Allen chose now to lean into Vivian, whispering something Kafra couldn’t hear—but clearly she could, because the succubus shivered and pulled him closer, mouth dragging down his throat.

Kafra bit harder on her lip.

Her hand moved.

She pressed YES.

And quietly, shamefully, deliciously overwhelmed, she whispered to herself inside the silent chamber—

“…I hate that man.”

But oh gods… She couldn’t look away.