Novel Full Chapter 1788: Mirrors [Part 2]
Chapter 1788: Mirrors [Part 2]
Villain Ch 1788. Mirrors [Part 2]
Jane stood alone.
Her maze was… quieter than the others. Dimly lit, the mirrors lined with faint gold etchings. Like ancient books.
She saw herself clearly. Not in the mirror, but in her mind.
A girl hunched in her chair, midnight snacks beside her, glasses fogged from crying at a spicy harem chapter.
She always thought no one would get her.
No one would understand why she cried over tragic villains or rooted for morally gray anti-heroes.
“I always thought…” Her voice wavered. “That no one would get it. That I’d marry my bookshelf. That I’d die surrounded by bookmarks and regrets.”
The mirror didn’t answer. But she didn’t need it to.
Because she knew now.
The author she worshipped. The one who made her heart ache with every broken redemption arc and morally gray monologue—
He wasn’t some unreachable idol.
He was Allen.
The man who’d asked if she’d eaten.
Who joked about skeleton kings but stayed awake through her full 43-minute rant about undead caste systems.
The man who had seen her.
Her. Not just the player. Not just the priestess.
But Jane.
And it hit her all at once—
He wasn’t just the writer of the story.
He wrote her into his world.
Not as a trope. Not as a background.
As someone who mattered.
Her fingers trembled on the glass.
Tears welled but didn’t fall.
“He made me feel like the stories I loved weren’t embarrassing,” she whispered.
Then her voice cracked, soft and broken—
“He made me feel like I wasn’t embarrassing.”
—-
Elsewhere, Bella blinked at the mirror in front of her.
The reflection staring back was… embarrassingly familiar.
Level 1 gear.
“Oh God,” Bella groaned. “Not this again.”
The room was silent, but the air had that surreal echo—like the mirror was listening.
Judging.
Her arms crossed defensively. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. I used to suck.”
She didn’t mean the words. Not really.
But seeing herself like that?
It stung.
Because back then, she really believed she’d never shine on her own.
That Alice would outpace her.
Or worse—get a boyfriend first and forget about her entirely.
It was stupid. But it was real.
She took a slow breath. “We thought we’d drift,” she said quietly, though no one was there to hear. “New relationships. Different paths. Jealousy, loneliness.”
Her reflection didn’t laugh. But she did.
Softly.
“…And then we both fell for the same guy,” she whispered, like it was some punchline.
Some cosmic joke.
But it wasn’t bitter.
Because Allen hadn’t just taken one of them.
He’d seen them.
As individuals.
He teased them differently. Fought beside them differently.
Listened to them differently.
And somehow—
He made it all feel fair.
—-
In another mirrored chamber, Alice stood very still.
Her reflection stared back.
Alice narrowed her eyes. “Is this supposed to guilt trip me?”
The reflection blinked.
Didn’t answer.
But it didn’t need to.
She crossed her arms and muttered, “Oh, c’mon.”
She remembered the night before they choose to play Hell’s Gate.
She’d overthink things—what if Bella got serious with some guy? What if they stopped being… them? Would she forget her?
They were weird together.
That kind of chaotic weird.
Would anyone ever be into both of them, and not just tolerate one for the other?
Apparently, yes.
Allen didn’t just tolerate her. He made them feel and treat them fair.
She smiled, just a little.
“Guess we got corrupted by the same bastard,” she said under her breath.
And somehow…
That made everything okay.
—-
Larissa stood before the mirror with her arms folded.
Her reflection?
Black corset top. Blood-red skirt that was way too short. Pale skin practically glowing in contrast.
Her fangs were tiny back then.
And her smile…
That smug, flirty thing she wore like armor.
“Oh, you,” she murmured to her reflection. Vampire shouldn’t have reflection, but she guess this one was an exception.
The girl in the glass tilted her head.
Still cocky.
Still smug.
She smiled—slowly.
That version of her…
She’d just wanted to mess around.
Then he showed up.
Allen.
At first, she thought he was just another stubborn, edgy solo player.
Acting mysterious. The usual.
She flirted. Of course she did.
A few teasing lines.
Standard Larissa behavior.
And when he didn’t flirt back—not right away—
She got curious.
Then annoyed.
Then… obsessed.
Because he wasn’t like the others.
He didn’t chase her.
But he didn’t ignore her either.
She didn’t even realize she’d fallen.
Not until one day she woke up and realized it wasn’t a game anymore.
It wasn’t just her avatar that warmed.
It was her.
The girl behind the screen.
The one who used to say “I play to mess around.”
He gave her something worth remembering.
Her reflection stayed quiet.
Like it knew.
And for once, Larissa didn’t wink at herself.
Didn’t pose.
Didn’t smirk.
She just smiled.
Soft. Full. Real.
“He ruined my villain arc,” she whispered.
Then added with a grin, “And I’d let him do it again.”
And the last one was… Allen.
He stepped into the mirror maze, and for a second—just a second—he thought maybe it would be empty. Silent. Like the game was offering him mercy.
But no.
There it was.
A mirror.
Not shattered. Not warped. Not lit with fire or stained with blood like the others.
Just clear.
Too clear.
His own reflection stared back at him.
The original Devil Emperor.
Allen exhaled.
“Damn. You again.”
The mirror didn’t answer.
But something behind it did.
“Are you the one who built this team?”
“Or are you just riding their momentum?”
“Without them… who are you?”
That hit harder than any boss fight.
Because yeah—he’d asked himself that before.
In the dead of night.
When the room was quiet.
Was he the reason this new team worked?
Or was he just lucky enough to tag along for the ride?
His fingers curled into fists slowly.
“…That’s not fair.”
The mirror didn’t change.
The voice didn’t soften.
“If they weren’t here… would you still be strong?”
Allen looked down.
Let the silence crawl in.
Two years ago, he would’ve answered yes instantly.
Back when he was full solo.
Back when trust was something he burned the moment it got too close.
He remembered the betrayal. Both for the team and his ex.
And the silence after that?
The way his chest ached even though he knew it was just a game?
Yeah. That scar still stung when he thought about it too long.
So he swore he’d go solo after that.
Build walls.
Play quiet.
Hop in and out of dungeons. Maybe drop a nuke skill and leave before anyone tried to be friendly.
But then—
They happened.
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