Villain Ch 1447. The Price of Being Famous
The dim, eerie glow of the Cursed Crypts flickered along the ancient stone walls. Allen and the girls sat around the grand hall of their base. They had returned from the dungeon raid, their inventories overflowing with loot, and now?
They were just chatting, letting the adrenaline of battle wear off as they lounged around their base.
The NPC vendor room stood at the far end, where a hooded merchant—a ghoulish figure with hollow eyes—stood behind a dusty wooden counter, his skeletal fingers tapping idly against the surface as he waited for them to sell their spoils.
Allen leaned against a broken pillar, his arms crossed, watching as the others cashed in their loot. His crimson gaze flickered across the room, but he barely registered the conversation happening around him.
Because— He was huffing.
Not loudly. Not dramatically. But just enough.
And the girls noticed.
