NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1819: The Real Talk
Villain Ch 1819. The Real Talk
Allen rolled his eyes and sipped his tea, letting the warmth soak through his fingers as he cradled the ceramic.
The breakfast plates were mostly cleared, but the faint scent of toasted bread, egg, and melted butter still lingered in the kitchen. The morning light spilled through the large windows, brushing against the edges of the table and pooling over the floor like lazy gold.
He thought that was the end of it.
Just casual teasing. Light banter. A typical morning.
Until Jordan set down his tablet with a quiet clack.
A signal. One Allen recognized immediately.
Oh no.
The real talk signal.
Jordan's eyes lifted, calm but sharp.
"Jokes aside," he said, voice suddenly smooth and businesslike. "I heard you'll be taking a vacation at the villa?"
Allen blinked, halfway through a sip. "Yeah. This weekend."
Jordan nodded once. "I see. Then next week—"
He leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly.
"—I'll start putting your schedule together for training."
There was a pause.
Like a dropped pin in a glass ballroom.
Emma sat up straighter. "Training?" Her voice lost the tease.
Jordan sipped his tea. "Business training. You're both Goldbornes. You need to be prepared. Equally."
Allen didn't flinch. He nodded, almost too fast. "I'm ready."
Jordan smiled faintly. "Don't be too stiff. I'm not sending you to a military bootcamp." He tapped his temple. "Two to three hours per day. That's enough. You're the kind who learns through observation and deduction. I'll use that."
Allen nodded again, slower this time. "So… I start with the basics?"
Jordan hummed. "Correct. Then you shadow me. Watch how I deal with clients. Stakeholders. Staff. Listen to how I say things, when I say them, and—more importantly—why I say them."
Allen's fingers tapped lightly against his cup. He felt the slight shift in the room. Not heavy, just… grounded. This wasn't a game. It wasn't a cutscene or some tutorial questline. This was real. Legacy stuff. Goldborne stuff. Stuff that didn't reset when you died in a raid.
"And your VR usage?" Jordan added. "You'll still need access to the Devil Emperor account, I assume."
"Yeah."
Jordan nodded again. "We have company rigs. You can use those."
Allen sat back a bit. "Understood."
Jordan looked satisfied. "That's all I'll say for now."
And just like that, he returned to eating. Neatly. Calmly. As if he hadn't just upended Allen's week like a precision airstrike.
Allen stared at his tea.
'Okay. Okay… breathe. This is good, right? This is progress. This is what you wanted. Family business. Integration. Actual training. Actual trust.'
He didn't show any of that internal monologue on his face. Just kept sipping like nothing stirred under the surface.
Emma, however, was already frowning.
"So…" she said slowly, "Allen will be away?"
Allen turned slightly. "I mean, not away away. It's not like I'm teleporting to another dimension."
She pouted. "I'll be bored then. Sad~"
Allen raised a brow. "You rarely come to my room."
Emma crossed her arms dramatically. "Still! The option to annoy you was always there!"
Allen sipped again, unbothered. "Right. Tragic."
Emma gave him a long side glance. "Some people like your photos, you know."
Allen paused.
"What?"
Emma looked away, fiddling with her spoon. "Nothing…"
"No, wait—go back. Photos? What do you mean people like my photos?"
Emma sighed like she was about to confess to a minor war crime. "Some people. My friends. Thought you looked kinda cool in some shots. That's all."
Allen blinked. "What shots?"
She gave him her most innocent smile. "I might have dropped by your room when you were playing VR. Sometimes. And maybe took a few photos."
Jordan didn't even look up. He just kept cutting his toast.
Allen stared at her. "You serious?"
Emma nodded, utterly shameless. "I mean, it's not like I sold them or anything. I just used them… for social leverage."
"What does that even mean?"
She twirled her spoon. "Homeschooling doesn't mean I don't have friends. There's a whole chat group. And sometimes… people ask about you. So I might've… used your photos to boost my friend count. You know. Networking."
Allen put his cup down slowly. "You're using me as clout bait."
"I'm using your face. Which technically, is community property."
He deadpanned. "I'm going to block you from accessing my room."
"You wouldn't."
"I would."
Emma grinned. "Then I'll just sell your idle animations to fan accounts."
Allen turned to Jordan. "Dad, she's blackmailing me."
Jordan didn't miss a beat. "Learn to negotiate better."
Allen blinked. "You're siding with her?"
Jordan shrugged. "You're the one who didn't lock your door."
"That's not the point."
Emma sipped her juice with the elegance of a smug kitten. "Anyway… you look cool when you're immersed. All serious and broody and shirtless."
Allen sputtered. "I—what—I was NOT shirtless."
"Once or twice," Emma added quickly. "Mostly when it's hot. And you had that one blanket draped over your lap like a rogue noble."
Allen buried his face in his hands. "Please tell me you didn't post that one."
"I didn't!" she said proudly. Then paused. "Well, not publicly."
Allen groaned. "This is emotional terrorism."
"You'll live."
"Stop smiling like you've won."
"I have won."
Jordan finally set his fork down. "Both of you. Enough. We're not turning the breakfast table into a social media tribunal."
Allen sighed. "Fine."
Emma leaned closer, her grin fading just a little. "But hey," she said, her voice softer now, "seriously. The business training thing? I think it's a good move."
Allen glanced at her. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "You're already good at leading people. And the whole cold-blooded emperor vibe? Works. You just need to learn how to use it when you're not in a game."
He looked at her for a moment. The light in the room caught her hair just so. The way she was looking at him—supportive, not teasing—hit a little harder than expected.
"…Thanks," he said, quieter than before.
Emma shrugged, but she looked pleased. "Just don't forget me when you become the next big stock market tyrant."