Villain Ch 1564. Shirtless Sword Fights?
Something tugged at their attention—something fast, off, emotional.
A girl stormed past the glass windows of the café, her red ponytail swaying violently behind her like a war banner. She wasn't just walking. She was speed-striding in a way that screamed 'I'm trying really hard not to cry in public.'
Allen caught the look in her eyes even from this angle. Glazed. Dazed. Wet.
"…Is that Jane?" Gerry muttered.
Allen was already standing.
Jane didn't notice them. She went straight into the café, pushed the door open with a frustrated shove, and headed for the counter, sniffling hard, like she was trying to outrun something but failing.
Allen followed, eyes narrowing. "Jane?"
She froze mid-step.
Turned.
And when she saw him—sitting there like the world hadn't just kicked her in the ribs—she broke.
She rushed toward him. Not the dramatic, overly theatrical run she sometimes did when joking around. No. This was real. Urgent.
