Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Villain Ch 973. Crazy Fanbase

Allen blinked, re-reading the words to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. ’They’re actually addressing it?’ he thought, his surprise growing. He had expected the petition to be dismissed as fan-driven noise, something the developers wouldn’t seriously consider. But here it was, an official communication acknowledging its existence. Discover more stories at NovelBin.Côm

Leaning back in his chair, Allen let out a long exhale. "Right…" he muttered to himself, trying to process the situation.

Since this concerned only the Devil Emperor and not the entire villain team, he was certain the email was solely addressed to him. The others wouldn’t have received this notice. It also struck him that there was no option to decline the meeting—no "yes or no" checkbox. The meeting was a must, regardless of whether Allen agreed or not.

He rubbed his temples, the reality of it sinking in. "I haven’t even looked into it yet, and they’ve already decided to hold a meeting," he said to himself, half in disbelief, half in frustration. The developers were moving fast, and it seemed like he was being dragged into this whirlwind whether he liked it or not.

Closing the email, Allen decided he needed to get ahead of this. If the developers were taking this seriously enough to call a meeting, then it was time for him to dive into the depths of his own fan base and see just how big this movement had become. He had a vague idea, of course—he’d seen some montages and short clips floating around on social media. But he’d never delved into it deeply.

It was just noise, or so he’d thought.

With a few quick taps, he pulled up his search engine and began typing. His fingers flew over the keys, inputting keywords related to the Devil Emperor, fan pages, and the now-infamous petition. Almost immediately, a flood of results populated his screen. The sheer volume of content was overwhelming.

Allen’s eyes widened as he scrolled through the pages. There were fan pages dedicated exclusively to the Devil Emperor, some with tens of thousands of followers. The petition was pinned at the top of many of these pages, with thousands of signatures already collected.

But what really caught his attention was the art—stunning, high-quality illustrations that depicted the Devil Emperor in all his dark, imposing glory. These weren’t just amateur sketches; some of these pieces were created by well-known illustrators, the kind whose work Allen had admired from afar, even considered commissioning for his own stories’ covers but had never gotten around to contacting.

He clicked on one particularly striking piece, his breath catching slightly as the image filled his screen. It was a detailed illustration of the Devil Emperor standing in a dark, ominous throne room, his expression cold and commanding.

The artist had captured the essence of the character perfectly—his aura of absolute power, the hint of menace in his eyes, the way he seemed to dominate the space around him. Beside him, Jane was depicted with equal care, her posture both alluring and dangerous. The image was hauntingly beautiful, and Allen could see why it had resonated so deeply with the fanbase.

’This is… something else,’ he thought, momentarily stunned by the level of dedication and skill on display. This wasn’t just fanart—this was a movement.

He continued scrolling, finding more and more content that blew him away. There were fan fiction stories, some spanning dozens of chapters, exploring alternate scenarios where the Devil Emperor softened, where his icy exterior cracked just enough to let someone in. There were memes, some humorous, others downright outrageous, all centered around the Devil Emperor.

’This is insane,’ Allen thought, his fingers hesitating over the screen as he continued to scroll. The sheer volume of content was staggering. The narratives varied wildly, from tales of his dominance in battle to stories that explored the deeper, more human side of the Devil Emperor.

Some of the stories were even serialized, with thousands of views and comments from readers who were completely engrossed in the fictionalized version of him.

He dug deeper, and Allen found entire threads and discussions where fans dissected his every move, analyzing his interactions with his subordinates. They speculated on his motivations, debated his future actions, and even argued over whether or not he could be redeemed.

Allen cringed and exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the screen. "That’s why they made that petition," he muttered to himself. It was starting to make sense now. All those stories, the fan art, the discussions—these weren’t just expressions of admiration for his power as the Devil Emperor. They were something more, something deeper.

These players had built an entire world around his character, one where the lines between fear, respect, and affection were blurred. It was no wonder they were hoping for a chance to take that connection to the next level.

He should have been proud, he supposed. After all, this level of devotion was proof of how well he had crafted his in-game persona. The Devil Emperor wasn’t just a character; he was an icon, a figure who had captured the imaginations of countless players.

But there was also this strange, uncomfortable sensation gnawing at him. It was one thing to be admired for his skills and feared as a villain, but to be romanticized? To have players yearn for a relationship with a character he had designed to be untouchable, ruthless, and intimidating?

"This is so weird," Allen muttered to himself, the words barely escaping his lips. Pride and discomfort warred within him, the conflicting emotions twisting in his gut. But it was what it was, and Allen knew better than to think he could control everything.

Life, like the game he dominated, had a way of surprising him, throwing unexpected curves that he could either roll with or let knock him off course. He decided to roll with it—for now, at least.

He searched for the Discourd link, curiosity gnawing at him. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but he knew he had to see it for himself. Using his author name, "NotAGod," he joined the server.