ã€ŠLord of Entertainmentã€‹


 Chapter 1: System

    <h4>Chapter 1: System</h4>

    I shuffled down the crowded street, my eyes darting from one passerby to another. Horns, tails, scales¡ªa sea of demonic features surrounded me. Despite myck of scales or a tail, my own tiny red horns marked me as one of them. Just another face in the crowd of demons going about their day.

    Yeah, you heard that right. I''m a demon. Not the soul-stealing, human-tricking kind you might be thinking of, though. Nah, we''re just another race in this crazy world I''ve found myself reincarnated into. Wild, right?

    As I weaved through the throng, I couldn''t help but notice the mundane normalcy of it all. Demons munching on apples and oranges as they hurried to work. Otherszily strolling towards caf¨¦s, bread in hand. It was almost disappointingly... ordinary.

    Me? I had my sights set on the old Fend Grand Theatre. The humans had just released a new flick¡ª"Rome Can''t Be Touched" or something like that. Some historical drama starring that big shot actor, Lewis Light.

    As the theatre came into view, I felt my eyebrows rise. The line for tickets snaked around the block, a writhing mass of horns and tails. Now <i>this</i> was unusual. I mean, I''m no stranger to the Fend, but I''d never seen it this packed.

    So there I stood, a demon among demons, waiting to get a glimpse into the world of humans. Funny how things turn out, isn''t it?

    The line crawled forward at a snail''s pace. By the time I reached the ticket booth, I''d counted every crack in the sidewalk twice over. The old receptionist peered at me from behind thick sses, his wrinkled hand outstretched for my I.D.

    I couldn''t help but chuckle as I pushed back my hood. "One ticket, please."

    Recognition flickered in his rheumy eyes, and a smile creased his face. "Well, if it isn''t young Prince Arthur! Our most loyal patron." He rummaged around for a moment before sliding a ticket across the counter. "This one''s on the house, Your Highness. I know you''ve been itching to see this film."

    I blinked, taken aback. "Seriously?"

    He winked, his grin widening. "Of course! I own this theatre, remember? Wouldn''t joke about free tickets."

    "Thanks," I managed, genuinely touched by the gesture. But my warm fuzzy feelings didn''tst long. The grumbling from the queue behind me saw to that.

    "Ugh, look at the old man sucking up to the useless prince."

    "Yeah, most worthless royal in history. Why even bother with him?"

    "Nothing like his brothers, is he? Just trash. All he does is drool over human films and books. Total failure."

    I had to stifle augh. They sounded just like my parents. At least I was consistent in disappointing everyone.

    The old guy''s smile faltered; he''d clearly heard thements too. He gave me a sympathetic nod, wordlessly urging me inside.

    I shot him a grateful look and scurried into the theatre, leaving the muttering crowd behind. As the cool, popcorn-scented air washed over me, I couldn''t help but grin. Let them talk. I had a date with ancient Rome, and nothing was going to spoil it.

    Besides, being the family disappointment had its perks. No one expected anything from you, which meant you could do whatever the hell you wanted. And right now, what I wanted was to lose myself in a human story for a couple of hours.

    As I settled into my seat, the lights dimmed, and the familiar excitement of a new film washed over me.

    The screen flickered to life, and I leaned back, ready for whatever Rome had to throw at me.

    As the opening credits rolled, I couldn''t help but nce around the dimly lit theater. Demons packed most of the seats, their horns creating a sea of shadowy silhouettes. Here and there, I spotted the stocky forms of dwarves ¨C a rare sight in these parts. Guess I wasn''t the only one with a thing for human flicks.

    The film, "Rome Can''t Be Touched," was a adaptation of one of my favorite books, "Rome Will Conquer." I''d been itching to see how they''d bring it to life on the big screen.

    As the story unfolded, I found myself getting sucked in. It followed this guy Nero ¨C no, not the emperor, just some dude with the same name ¨C born in 20 BS to some fancy Roman family. The usual story, you know? Kid learns to ride horses, swing a sword, all that jazz. But then he grows up and bes Caesar''s rival. ssic underdog tale.

    Oh, right. I should probably exin the BS thing. It stands for "Before Srus." See, back in the day, humans didn''t have their big, powerful god. It was all old-school deities running the show.

    Then bam! This Srus faith pops up out of nowhere and suddenly it''s all the rage with humans.

    And get this ¨C they start getting weirdly powerful.

    I mean, before Srus came along, humans were basically demon chow. Sure, they had their little empires and whatnot, butpared to demons? Please.

    As the film rolled on, I found my initial excitement waning. Don''t get me wrong, Lewis Light was killing it as always, but the story? Not so much.

    Halfway through, I was fighting the urge to groan out loud. Looks like the director decided to get "creative" with the adaptation. And by creative, I mean they butchered it. So much for staying true to the source material.

    The grumbling from the other demons told me I wasn''t alone in my disappointment. Great minds think alike, I guess ¨C even if those minds belong to demons who''d probably love to see me fall t on my face.

    I shook my head, a sigh escaping my lips. What a letdown. If I ever got the chance to make a film, I''d never pull this kind of stunt. Stick to the story, people. Is that so hard?

    And then, out of nowhere:

    <strong>[Ding!]</strong>

    <strong>[You have awakened the Entertainment System]</strong>

    Wait, what?

    I blinked, staring at the transparent interface that had just popped up in front of me. ncing at the demon next to me, I tried to gauge if I was the only one seeing this weird floaty menu thing.

    The demon caught me looking and shot me a disgusted re that clearly said, "Stop being weird, you freak."

    Right. So I''m either going crazy, or this is some kind of personal hallucination. Fantastic.

    Unable to focus on the trainwreck of a movie anymore, I decided to bail. As I shuffled past annoyed demons (sorry, not sorry), my mind was racing. An Entertainment System? What the hell did that even mean?

    "Leaving already, Your Highness?"

    I turned to see the old guy at the ticket booth, eyeing me curiously.

    "Yeah," I shrugged, trying to act normal while a freaking magical menu hovered in my vision. "Film''s not up to snuff."

    He chuckled, shaking his head. "What can we expect from dumb humans, eh?"

    I forced augh and nodded, not really in the mood to defend human creativity at the moment. My mind was too busy trying to process whatever the hell was going on with this "system."

    As I strode away from the theater, I stroked my chin, eyeing the interface warily. An Entertainment System, huh? Was this some kind of cosmic joke? Or had I finally cracked under the pressure of being the family disappointment?

    Either way, one thing was clear: my boring day had just gotten a whole lot more interesting. And potentially more insane. But hey, when you''re a demon prince who''d rather watch human flicks than learn the finer points of soul-crushing, what''s a little madness between friends?

    Now, if I could just figure out how to use this thing without looking like I was swatting at invisible flies...

 Chapter 2: First Mission

    <h4>Chapter 2: First Mission</h4>

    Now, if I could just figure out how to use this thing without looking like I was swatting at invisible flies...

    I nced around to make sure no one was watching, then tentatively reached out to touch the floating interface. To my surprise, my finger actually made contact with... something. It wasn''t solid, more like a tingle of energy.

    Suddenly, a new notification popped up:

    <strong>[First Mission: Make your first ever film that will be a box office sess.]</strong>

    <strong>[Reward: Computer Technologies]</strong>

    I nearly tripped over my own feet. Computer Technologies? As in, the stuff of my previous life? My mind started racing with possibilities. Programming, video games, and who knows what else?

    It was like being offered the holy grail of entertainment. And all I had to do was make a sessful film? Ha! Piece of cake. I mean, how hard could it be, right?

    ...Right?

    As I walked down the bustling demon-filled street, my excitement was tempered by the reality around me. Sure, we''d entered the industrial age, but let''s face it ¨C our entertainment scene was about as exciting as watching paint dry on a hellhound.

    Don''t get me wrong, the books and films we had were keeping me from losing my mindpletely. But if I''m being honest? I was bored out of my skull most of the time. There''s only so many times you can read "101 Ways to Terrorize a Human" before it gets old.

    But now? Now I had a chance to shake things up. To make this world a little less dull, a little more... fun.

    I couldn''t help but grin. Me, the family disappointment, the demon who couldn''t even summon a decent fireball ¨C I was going to revolutionize entertainment in this world.

    Of course, there was the small matter of actually making a film. And making it sessful. Oh, and doing it all without anyone finding out about my magical floatingputer buddy.

    No pressure or anything.

    But as I looked around at the same old dreary demon world, with its predictable chaos and mind-numbing "evil" routines, I felt a spark of determination. This world needed a shake-up, and I was just the demon to do it.

    Now, if I could just figure out where to get a camera in a world that thinks "moving pictures" means portraits that asionally blink...

    This was going to be interesting. And by interesting, I mean probably aplete disaster. But hey, at least it wouldn''t be boring.

    First things first, though. I needed cash. Cold, hard demon dors to fund this crazy film project of mine.

    I had about 10,000 dors squirreled away in savings. Now, before you startughing, let me put that in perspective. In my previous life that would be like 100,000 bucks. Not too shabby, right?

    ...Except when youpare it to my siblings'' savings. Then it''s about as impressive as a imp''s fireball. But who cares? For once, I had an advantage. Sure, it was a weird, possibly hallucination-induced advantage, but I''ll take what I can get.

    As I trudged towards Fend Bank, my mind was buzzing with film ideas. What could I make on a shoestring budget that would still knock demons'' socks off?

    I thought back to some ssic low-budget hits from my previous life. "Night of the Living Dead"? Nah, demons would think it''s aedy. "The ir Witch Project"? Please, that''s like a typical Tuesday in the demon realm. "Clerks"? Hmm... that could work if I reced the convenience store with a soul-trading post...

    But first, I needed to get my hands on a decent camera. And not just any camera ¨C a color one. I''d been tinkering with camera tech for a while now. See, while I''m about as magically gifted as a potato, I''ve got a knack for mechanics. Go figure.

    I even tried praying to the dwarven god of craftsmanship once. Fat lot of good that did. Turns out, demon prayers don''t exactly zoom to the top of their priority list.

    Finally, I reached Fend Bank. As I walked in, the smell of brimstone and old money hit me like a wall. Ah, the sweet aroma of capitalism, demon-style.

    "I''d like to withdraw my entire savings," I told the teller, trying to sound princely and not at all like I was about to blow it all on a harebrained scheme.

    The teller''s eyes bugged out so far I thought they might pop out of her skull. Which, you know, isn''t entirely impossible for some demon subspecies. She scurried off to get the manager faster than a human running from a hellhound.

    The manager appeared, all oily smiles and obsequious bows. "Prince Arthur! What an... unexpected pleasure. We just need to verify your identity. Standard procedure, you understand."

    Yeah, standard procedure my horns. But I stered on my best "I''m-a-prince-don''t-question-me" smile and went along with it. Signatures were scribbled, identities confirmed, and finally, I had my cash.

    As I walked out, I could practically hear the whispers. "There goes the worthless prince, probably off to waste his money on more human nonsense."

    If they only knew. I was about to create something this realm had never seen before. A cinematic masterpiece. Or aplete train wreck. Either way, it was going to be one hell of a show.

    With my newly acquired funds burning a hole in my pocket, I set my sights on the center district. If there was a decent camera to be found in this realm, that''s where it''d be.

    I shuffled over to the nearest bus stop, trying not to look like I was carrying enough cash to buy a small hellhound farm. A few minutester, a bus that had definitely seen better days (probably in thest century) screeched to a halt in front of me. I climbed aboard, the smell of brimstone and regret hitting me like a wall.

    As I plopped down on a seat that was more spring than cushion, I could feel the weight of demonic stares boring into me. Great. Just what I needed ¨C an audience.

    Part of me wanted to stand up and announce, "Yes, it''s me, your favorite trashy demon prince! Please, hold your apuse." But even I''m not that self-deprecating. Instead, I just sank lower in my seat and pretended to be fascinated by the graffiti on the window. "Humans suck" ¨C how original.

    After what felt like an eternity, we finally reached the center district. I practically leapt off the bus, grateful to escape the silent judgment of my fellow passengers.

    As I approached the electronics market, a wall of noise hit me. For a ce selling cutting-edge tech, it sounded more like a medieval bazaar than a Best Buy. But that''s demonmerce for you ¡ª why have a quiet, orderly shopping experience when you can have chaos and haggling?

    The market sprawled out before me, a maze of stalls mostly run by dwarves.

    And the noise? By all that''s unholy, it was deafening. They were shouting, bargaining, and asionally threatening customers with well-crafted hammers, and was that... was that a chicken? In an electronics market?

    I wove through the crowd, dodging elbows and the asional fireball (someone haggling over prices, no doubt). The cacophony was enough to give even a demon a headache.

    As I weaved through the chaos of the market, a familiar face popped into my mind. George, my dwarf buddy. We''d spent countless hours tinkering with gadgets together, though most of our experiments ended with a bang. Literally. The guy had a talent for making things go boom.

    Still, he might know where to find a decent camera. Or at least point me in the direction of someone who wouldn''t try to sell me a cardboard box with "CAMRA" scribbled on it.

 Chapter 3: Camera

    <h4>Chapter 3: Camera</h4>

    I found George in a quiet corner of the market, looking about as lively as a gargoyle with depression. His stall was a sad disy of failed inventions and scorch marks. Poor guy couldn''t sell water in the desert.

    "George! How''s it hanging?" I called out, trying to inject some life into the gloomy scene.

    His head snapped up, eyes widening like he''d just seen a unicorn. "Your Highness!" he eximed, nearly toppling off his stool in excitement. "Thank the Forgefather you''re here!"

    I blinked, taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm. "Uh, what''s got you so fired up?"

    "I''ve done it!" he practically squealed, bouncing on his toes. "I''ve finally made a sessful invention!"

    Now that piqued my interest. "Oh yeah? What kind of invention are we talking about here?"

    George''s eyes gleamed with manic intensity. He ducked under his stall and emerged clutching... well, I wasn''t quite sure what it was. It looked like a cross between a kaleidoscope and a toaster, with a few gears thrown in for good measure.

    "I call it the Chromatic Resonance Amplifier!" he announced proudly, thrusting the contraption at me.

    I took it gingerly, half expecting it to explode in my face. "Uh, that''s great, George. What does it do?"

    Heunched into a rapid-fire exnation, something about light wavelengths and color separation. Honestly, most of it went over my head, but I caught enough to realize this weird gizmo might actually be useful.

    "So, let me get this straight," I interrupted his techno-babble. "This thing can separate and amplify different colors of light?"

    George nodded so hard I thought his beard might fall off. "Exactly! I was trying to make a device to cook the perfect toast, but somehow ended up with this instead."

    I turned the device over in my hands, an idea forming. This wasn''t a camera, but with some tinkering... "George, my friend, I think you might have just solved a big problem for me."

    He looked at me, confused. "But Your Highness, how does this help with toast?"

    I couldn''t help butugh. "Forget the toast, George. How would you like to be part of a revolution in demon entertainment?"

    As I began to exin my film project, I could see the gears turning in George''s head (metaphorically, though with dwarves you can never be too sure). This odd little invention of his might just be the key to creating a color camera in a world that barely understood ck and white.

    Sometimes, the universe has a funny way of giving you exactly what you need, even if ites in a package you''d never expect. Or in this case, a package that looks like it might catch fire at any moment.

    George''s eyes lit up like a firework disy. "You... You n to make a film!?" He was practically bouncing now. "That''s great! Can I be part of it, my friend?"

    I couldn''t help butugh at his enthusiasm. It was like watching a puppy discover treats for the first time. "Well, maybe you can. And that invention of yours, with my tinkering, we''ve found ourselves a revolutionary camera!"

    George''s face scrunched up in confusion. "We? I''m the one that created it! It was supposed to be a perfect toaster!"

    I looked at George, torn between amusement and exasperation. The guy had identally invented a keyponent for color film while trying to make breakfast. He was either the dumbest genius or the most brilliant idiot I''d ever met. Probably both.

    "Think about it, George," I said, trying to appeal to his practical side (assuming he had one). "With my help, we can create a colored camera." I paused for dramatic effect. "If you do it alone, you might fail and destroy your precious invention!"

    I could almost see the gears turning in George''s head. Finally, he nodded. "I guess you''re right." Then he jabbed a stubby finger at me. "As long as you get me in your film, I''ll agree for you to use my invention."

    "Deal," I said quickly, before he could change his mind. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let''s create this camera!"

    George nodded eagerly and led me to his "humble" apartment. And by humble, I mean it looked like a junkyard had a wild night out with an electronics store, and this was their love child.

    The ce was cramped, every surface covered with half-finished inventions, spare parts, and what I hoped were just oil stains. The air was thick with the smell of solder and something that might have been George''s attempt at air freshener. Or maybe just another failed experiment.

    I picked my way through the chaos, trying not to knock over anything that might explode. "Uh, nice ce you got here, George," I lied through my teeth.

    George beamed,pletely missing the sarcasm. "Thanks! It''s where the magic happens!"

    Looking around, I had to wonder if by "magic" he meant "barely controlled chaos." No wonder the poor guy''s inventions kept failing. His organizational skills made a demon''sir look tidy.

    But hey, beggars can''t be choosers. And right now, this messy dwarf and his idental invention were my best shot at making demon film history.

    I rolled up my sleeves, careful not to touch anything sticky. "Alright, George. Let''s see what we can do with that Chromatic whatever-you-called-it."

    As George started clearing a space on his workbench (by shoving everything onto the floor), I couldn''t help but wonder what I''d gotten myself into.

    But you know what? For the first time in ages, I felt excited. This wasn''t just about making a film anymore. This was about creating something entirely new, something that could change everything.

    For the next few hours, George''s apartment became ground zero for our grand experiment in demon cinematography. We tinkered, we argued, we nearly set fire to George''s beard twice, but slowly, something started to take shape.

    I dug deep into the recesses of my previous life''s memories, trying to recall every detail I could about cameras and film. It was like trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle while riding a rollercoaster, but somehow, piece by piece, we made progress.

    "Hand me that thingamajig," I''d say, pointing to a part I couldn''t name.

    "You mean the flux capacitor?" George would reply, handing me something that definitely wasn''t a flux capacitor.

    "Sure, whatever. Just don''t let it touch the whatchamacallit or we''ll all be wearing our eyebrows on the back of our heads."

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity of near-misses and minor explosions, we had something that looked vaguely camera-like. It was held together with hope, spit, and what I''m pretty sure was George''s secret adhesive (I didn''t ask), but it was alive.

    "Alright," I said, wiping sweat from my brow, "let''s see if this thing works."

    We set up a makeshift projection system ¨C basically a white sheet tacked to George''s wall and a lot of crossed fingers. I pointed our Franken-camera at George (who insisted on posing like he was epting an award) and hit what I hoped was the ''record'' button.

    For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the wall erupted in color.

    It wasn''t perfect. The image was fuzzy, the colors a bit off ¨C George''s red beard looked more like a radioactive carrot ¨C but it was there. In color.

    "We made it!" George shouted, jumping up and down so hard I thought he might go through the floor.

    I couldn''t help but grin. We''d done it. We''d created a working color camera prototype without reducing half the district to ashes. In the world of demon-dwarf coborations, this was practically a miracle.

    As I stared at the wobbly, colorful projection of George on the wall, my mind started racing with possibilities. We had the tech ¨C now we needed the story.

    The Godfather. Now there was an idea. A tale of family, power, and betrayal ¨C demons would eat that up. With a few tweaks to fit our world (maybe swap out the Italian mafia for warring demon ns?), it could be a real hit.

    I could see it now: "The Demonfather." A sweeping epic of a lowly imp rising to be the most powerful demon lord in the underworld. Betrayals, power struggles, maybe throw in a forbidden love story with an elf for good measure...

    "Uh, Your Highness?" George''s voice snapped me out of my reverie. "You''ve got that look again. The one that usually ends with something exploding."

    I grinned at him, probably looking a bit maniacal. "Oh, George, my friend. We''re not going to blow anything up." I paused for dramatic effect. "We''re going to make them an offer they can''t refuse."

    George blinked at me, confused. "Is that some kind of demon thing?"

    Iughed, pping him on the back. "No, my vertically challenged friend. It''s show business. And we''re about to turn the demon world on its head."

 Chapter 4: Demon Pictures

    <h4>Chapter 4: Demon Pictures</h4>

    The next day found me in my room, surrounded by crumpled papers and half-empty coffee mugs. It wasn''t quite the disaster zone that was George''s apartment, but it was getting there. The life of an aspiring demon filmmaker, I suppose.

    I hunched over my desk, scribbling furiously as I tried to hammer out the storyline for "The Demonfather." The Fend city''s warring demon ns were providing plenty of inspiration. We had the Nevermore n, always cawing about their ancient bloodlines. The Asmodeus bunch, with their fancy suits and even fancier ways of torturing souls. Then there were the Belphegor n, sozy they couldn''t be bothered to finish their own evil schemes, and the Mammon family, who''d sell their own horns for a quick buck.

    And at the top of the heap? The Morningstar family. My family. Royal pain in the ass, more like.

    I grinned to myself. Oh yeah, the Morningstars were perfect for the Corleone role. I could already see myself as Michael, the reluctant heir drawn back into the family business. But who would y the old Don Vito?

    Then it hit me ¨C the old guy who owned the Grand Theatre. With that craggy face and world-weary demeanor, he''d be perfect. Plus, I already owed him one for that free ticket. Time to call in that favor.

    As I scribbled down notes and sketched out scenes, my mind raced with possibilities. If this worked ¨C if "The Demonfather" became a hit ¨C we could be looking at a trilogy. Hell, maybe even a whole franchise. "The Demonfather Part II: Hell''s Kitchen." "The Demonfather Part III: Apocalypse Now." Okay, maybe I was getting ahead of myself.

    But then reality reared its ugly head. My measly 10,000 dors suddenly seemed like chump change. Making a film, even a low-budget one, wasn''t going to be cheap. I needed a crew, equipment, locations...

    I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. "Think, Arthur," I muttered to myself. "You''re a prince, for Satan''s sake. Use that to your advantage."

    Sure, I might be the ck sheep of the family, the prince who couldn''t even summon a decent fireball. But I was still a Morningstar. And in this city, that name still meant something.

    There were a few studios in Fend City. Nothing fancy, mostly churning out propaganda pieces for the various ns. But they had equipment, they had crews. And more importantly, they had connections.

    I smiled to myself, feeling a n start to form. I might be a trash prince in my family''s eyes, but to everyone else? I was still royalty. And it was time to use that to my advantage.

    Grabbing my jacket, I headed for the door. Time to charm some studio execs, call in some favors, and maybe casually mention how disappointed my royal father would be if they didn''t help his son with his little pet project.

    As I left my room, nearly tripping over a stack of demon screenwriting books, I couldn''t help butugh. Who would''ve thought that being the family disappointment would finally pay off?

    ***

    With a spring in my step and delusions of grandeur in my head, I set off for Demon Pictures, the crown jewel of Fend City''s film industry. These guys were the real deal, even giving those human hotshots in Hollywood a run for their money.

    Themute took about thirty minutes, most of which I spent rehearsing my "I''m a very important demon prince, you know" speech in my head. By the time I arrived at the towering obsidian building that housed Demon Pictures, I was feeling pretty confident.

    That confidencested about ten seconds after I walked through the door.

    "Hold it right there," a burly guard growled, stepping in front of me. His partner, equally muscled and even less friendly-looking, nked him.

    "Who are you? It''s the first time we''ve seen you here," the first guard demanded.

    For a moment, I was tempted to puff up my chest and dere, "Don''t you see? I''m a demon prince!" But looking at their unimpressed faces, I realized my infamous reputation might not have reached this far.

    So instead, I opted for politeness. Novel concept for a demon, I know. "I am from the Morningstar family," I said, trying to sound both important and non-threatening. Tricky bnce, that.

    "Morningstar!?" The second guard''s eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought I''d hit the jackpot.

    Then they both burst outughing.

    "Hahaha! If you''re from the Morningstar family, then I''m the King of Hell!" the first guard guffawed.

    His partner wiped a tear from his eye. "You think you could fool us like that? Shoo! Go away!"

    I stood there, mouth agape, as these two goonsughed in my face. Me, Prince Arthur of the Morningstar n, being shooed away like somemon imp!

    Part of me wanted to summon a fireball and show them exactly who they were dealing with. But knowing my luck, I''d probably just singe my own eyebrows off.

    As theirughter echoed through the lobby, I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment. This was not how this was supposed to go. I was royalty, damn it! Okay, maybe I was the family disappointment, but still!

    But as I stood there, beingughed at by two meatheads who probably couldn''t spell ''Morningstar'' if their lives depended on it, something inside me snapped. Not in an "I''m going to rain hellfire upon you" way (I wish), but in a "screw it, I''ve got nothing to lose" way.

    I straightened my back, looked them dead in the eye, and said, "Listen here, you overgrown imps. I am Prince Arthur of the Morningstar n, and I''ve got a film to make. Now, you can either let me in to speak with whoever''s in charge, or you can exin to your boss why you turned away royalty. Your choice."

    The guards stoppedughing, looking at each other uncertainly. I held my breath, trying to look as princely and intimidating as possible. Which, given my track record, probably wasn''t very.

    As the guards stared at me, clearly trying to decide if they should throw me out or justugh some more, I felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubble up inside me. Time to pull out the big guns.

    "Well, how about a quick look at my I.D., esteemed guards?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I fished the card out of my pocket.

    The guards exchanged a look, probably thinking I was about to show them a badly forged McDonald''s loyalty card or something. But they took the ID, their smirks still firmly in ce.

    And then, oh boy, did those smirks vanish.

    They looked at the card, then at me, then back at the card. I could practically see the gears grinding in their tiny brains as they realized they''d just beenughing at honest-to-Satan royalty.

    "Cough. What does the business of Your Highness require here?" the first guard said, his voice suddenly as polite as a butler at a fancy dinner party.

    The other one chimed in, "Do you need a coffee, sir?"

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. Amazing how quickly tunes can change when faced with the prospect of royal wrath. "You know," I said, tapping my chin thoughtfully, "I seem to recall hearing someone say that if I was a Morningstar, they were the king. Hmm?"

    The guard who''d made that particr joke looked like he was about to faint. His face went from red to white faster than a traffic light.

    I couldn''t resist twisting the knife a little. "Maybe I''ll tell my father we have a new king around here. I''m sure he''d be fascinated to hear about it."

    That did it. They practically fell over themselves apologizing.

    "I-I am terribly sorry, Your Highness!"

    "Please forgive us!"

    "We''ll do anything, Your Highness!"

    I had to bite my cheek to keep fromughing out loud. This was better than any prank I''d ever pulled. "Well," I said, trying to sound magnanimous, "if you''re really sorry, you can let me in. And tell the receptionist that I have some business with the CEO of thispany."

    The guards hesitated, exchanging nervous nces. "Your Highness... We... We couldn''t do it!"

    I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You couldn''t? Then I suppose I''ll just have a short chat with my father¡ª"

    "We''ll do it!" they practically shouted before I could even finish.

    I grinned, feeling more princely than I had in years. "That''s what I''m talking about!"

    As they scrambled to open the doors and alert the receptionist, I couldn''t help but feel a little giddy. For once, being a Morningstar was actually working in my favor.

    Sure, I might be about to bluff my way through a meeting with one of the most powerful demons in the entertainment industry with nothing but a half-baked idea and a homemade camera. But hey, that''s show business, baby.

 Chapter 5: Thatâ€™s bank for you

    <h4>Chapter 5: That''s bank for you</h4>

    Before I knew it, I found myself face to face with the big cheese himself, Ashen Gray. The demon''s presence filled the room, making me feel like a mouse in a lion''s den. But I was a royal mouse, damn it, and I had a pitch to make.

    "So... Why does Your Highness want to meet me?" Ashen''s voice rumbled like distant thunder.

    I cleared my throat, trying not to sound like a pubescent imp. "I''m here to ask for a little favor from your studio."

    One of Ashen''s eyebrows twitched slightly. "Favor?"

    "I''m nning to make my first movie," I exined, my confidence growing with each word. "I thought your studio, with its impressive production capabilities, could help me fulfill my longtime dream of filmmaking."

    Ashen stared at me, his expression as unchanging as a gargoyle''s. "Sorry, Your Highness. But I''m afraid I can''t help."

    My heart sank faster than a lead balloon in the River Styx.

    "You see," he continued, still deadpan, "our studio has its hands full with several projects. We have no time to help you."

    I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. It was painfully obvious - Demon Pictures wasn''t going to help me, and my "royal favor" carried about as much weight as a feather in a hurricane.

    Swallowing my pride, I stood up. "Well, if you''re not avable, maybe other studios in this city would be willing to help me."

    Oh, how wrong I was.

    Hourster, I trudged back to the pce, empty-handed and thoroughly deted. The other two major studios had given me the same polite brush-off, and the smaller studios... well, let''s just say they were less polite about it.

    Back in my room, I massaged my throbbing temples and started organizing the papers strewn about. I shoved them into a bag, ready to meet George and show him the script. At least someone was still excited about this project.

    As I walked down the street, feeling sorry for myself, a poster caught my eye. It was advertising a bank willing to lend money at low interest rates for new businesses.

    Suddenly, it hit me like a bolt of hellfire. Why beg for help when I could do it myself? Sure, I only had 10,000 dors now, but what if I started my own film productionpany? With my royal identity (useless as it seemed today), I could probably secure a loan of around 200,000 dors.

    My steps quickened as the idea took shape. That kind of money would be more than enough to get started. I could buy equipment, hire a small crew, maybe even rent out a dingy warehouse to use as a studio.

    I grinned to myself, probably looking like a madman to the demons passing by. But I didn''t care. This wasn''t just a n B - this was the n I should have had all along.

    Who needs Demon Pictures when you can have... Morningstar Productions? Okay, maybe we''d work on the name.

    As I hurried to meet George, my mind was racing with possibilities. We''d build our own studio, make our own rules. No more begging for favors or dealing with stuck-up executives.

    ***

    Later that day, I found myself in George''s ce, which looked like a tornado had a personal vendetta against organization. As I exined my grand n, George''s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

    "What? Arthur, you''re... you''re borrowing 200,000 dors from the bank? To make a movie? Are you crazy!?" His voice hit a pitch I didn''t think dwarves could reach.

    "Shut your mouth, little guy," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I''m not crazy. I''ll tell ya, this film of ours will be big."

    George scratched the back of his head, looking like he was trying to solve a particrly tricky equation. "We may have our colored camera, still in development - but even if our film does have colors, it couldn''t guarantee its sess! It could be a failure and you''ll be bankrupt!"

    I felt a bit speechless at thatment. Leave it to George to point out the ringly obvious w in my n. But I wasn''t about to let a little thing like potential financial ruin dampen my spirits.

    "Don''t you see? I''m a royal prince no matter how useless that''s been so far, goddamnit," I said, puffing up my chest. "Let''s go to the bank now and don''tin too much."

    As we made our way through the cluttered streets of Fend City, George kept shooting me worried nces. "Arthur, are you sure about this? I mean, 200,000 dors is a lot of money. What if-"

    "What if nothing," I cut him off. "Look, George, we''ve got a chance here to do something big. Something no one''s ever done before in the demon realm. Are we really going to let a little thing like potential financial ruin stop us?"

    George muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Yes, that''s exactly what should stop us," but I chose to ignore it.

    One eternity (and a lot of George''s nervous muttering)ter, we found ourselves at the bank, face to face with the same oily manager I''d met yesterday when withdrawing my life savings.

    "You wanted to borrow money for your business, Your Highness?" The manager was practically salivating, his sly eyes gleaming with poorly concealed greed.

    I couldn''t really me him. In his mind, he was probably thinking that while I might be a useless demon prince, I was still a prince. And that alone was worth something.

    It was clear the bank wouldn''t care if I seeded or failed. They''d be willing to lend me money because even if I crashed and burned, they could always squeeze my royal family for repayment, or use my failure as leverage for future favors. Not to mention the PR value of having a prince as a client.

    I began to exin my business n, keeping it vague enough to sound impressive without revealing how half-baked it actually was.

    I didn''t need to go into much detail - we both knew this loan was as good as approved the moment I walked in.

    Sure enough, after my spiel, the manager smiled broadly. "Well, Your Highness, your business seems to have potential. I''ll approve your proposal."

    I smiled and thanked him outwardly, while inwardly I was scoffing. Yeah, right. You see potential? The only potential you see is a failing prince making a stupid business decision that you can take advantage of.

    As we left the bank, loan approval in hand, I couldn''t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. On one hand, I now had the funds to make my dream a reality. On the other hand, I was now 200,000 dors in debt with nothing but a half-finished camera and a script that may or may not be any good.

    I looked at George, who seemed to be in a state of shocked disbelief. "Well, my vertically challenged friend," I said, pping him on the back, "looks like we''re in the movie business now."

    George just shook his head. "I hope you know what you''re doing, Arthur."

    I grinned, feeling a manic energy coursing through me. "Of course I do. Now, let''s go make movie magic before my family finds out and has memitted to the Asylum for Wayward Princes."

    As we walked away from the bank, I couldn''t shake the feeling that I''d just lit the fuse on a veryrge, very expensive firework. Whether it would soar into the sky or blow up in my face remained to be seen.

    But hey, that''s showbiz, right?

 Chapter 6: Exiled

    <h4>Chapter 6: Exiled</h4>

    With 200k burning a hole in my pocket, it was time to set the wheels in motion. First order of business? Finding a ce to call our cinematic home.

    After some hunting, I managed to snag a warehouse in the city''s cheapest district for a measly 500 bucks a month. The owner, a blob of a demon with more chins than scruples, was all too happy to take my money after a bit of smooth-talking bargaining.

    As we stood in front of our new "studio", George scratched his head, looking like he was trying to solve a particrly tricky puzzle. "Well... This looked... Okay, I guess?"

    "Okay?" I said, injecting as much false optimism into my voice as I could muster. "It''s more than okay. It''s very great."

    I waved my arm dramatically at the cavernous space, ignoring the cobwebs and suspicious stains. "We could use this building to house our future equipment, our future crews! This ce is great for 500 dors."

    George''s eyebrows shot up. "Now that you say it like that, 500 dors seems to be a steal for such a ce..."

    "Indeed it is," I said, silently praying that the roof wouldn''t choose that moment to cave in. "Now, let''s continue making that prototype camera of yours look less like a demonic toaster and more like actual film equipment."

    For the next two days, when I wasn''t elbow-deep in wires and gears with George, I was pounding the pavement, trying to assemble a crew crazy enough to join my fledglingpany.

    After much deliberation (and a few shots of liquid courage), I decided to name ourpany "Hellfire Studios". I even managed to cobble together a logo - a stylized me wrapped around a film reel. It looked pretty damn cool, if I do say so myself.

    As for the crew, I struck gold with a group of fresh graduates from the Infernal Institute of Cinematic Arts. These kids had stars in their eyes and desperation in their hearts. The big studios in town wouldn''t touch them with a ten-foot pitchfork - no experience, they said. Too risky.

    These graduates could have tried their luck in other countries, but between the cost of demonic air travel (those magic-powered engines don''t run cheap) and the risk of ending up as some human''s chew toy, most were reluctant to leave.

    So when I showed up with my fancy newpany name and promises of creative freedom, theytched onto the opportunity like imps to a fresh soul.

    "You mean we''ll actually get to make movies?" one wide-eyed demoness asked, her forked tail twitching with excitement.

    "That''s the n," I said, trying to sound like I knew what I was doing. "We''re going to revolutionize the demon film industry."

    As I looked at their eager faces, a mix of excitement and terror churned in my gut. These kids were putting their dreams in my hands. I just hoped I wouldn''t end up crushing them like a clumsy hellhound with a chew toy.

    But hey, every great director started somewhere, right? And if all else failed, we could always pivot to making infomercials for cursed objects or something.

    Hellfire Studios was officially in business. Now all we needed was a script, proper equipment, and a miracle or two. But first things first - I needed to figure out how to work the coffee machine in our new "office". Because if there''s one thing I''ve learned about the film industry, it''s that it runs on caffeine and broken dreams.

    And we had plenty of both.

    ***

    Just when I thought things were looking up, reality decided to smack me in the face. Literally.

    There I was, seated in the royal dining room, surrounded by my siblings, mother, the king, and his collection of wives and concubines. The air was thick with tension, and I knew it was all my fault. So much for keeping this little venture under wraps.

    *BANG!*

    "You freaking borrowed 200 damn thousand dors at the Fend Bank!?"

    My father''s voice, Luke Morningstar, boomed through the room like a thunderp. I tried not to cower, but let''s face it, when the King of Hell is yelling at you, a little cowering is perfectly understandable.

    "Your Majesty," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "the royal family doesn''t need to be concerned about it. I''ll pay it with my own hands!"

    I wanted to look him in the eye, to show some backbone, but the sheer power radiating off him made it impossible. His Sinful Magic was practically oozing out of every pore, even though I knew he was holding back. If he ever let loose... well, let''s just say I''d rather not think about it.

    "You shouldn''t talk back to me!" Luke roared. With a casual wave of his hand, I felt myself flying through the air. My back mmed against the wall, knocking the wind out of me.

    As I gasped for breath, I heard my younger sister, Apollonia, pleading on my behalf. "Father! You''re hurting him!"

    But her concern was quickly drowned out by the sneers of my older brothers.

    "Let him, little sister. He brought it upon himself," that was my second brother, Arnold, always the dutiful son.

    "Yes. He is a disgrace to our family," Bobby, my third sister, chimed in, not one to miss a chance to kick me while I was down.

    "Quiet!" Luke''s voice cut through the chatter like a hot knife through butter. "No one talks until I say so."

    The room fell silent. I groaned, shaking my head to clear the stars from my vision. Through the haze, I caught sight of my mother, her face a mask of cold indifference. No surprise there. In this family, Apollonia was the only one who seemed to give a damn about me.

    Just when I thought things couldn''t get worse, my dear old dad decided to drop the mother of all bombshells.

    "Leave here if you still want to be alive," Luke growled, his eyes burning with a mixture of disappointment and barely contained rage. "Leave this ce. Leave this pce." He paused for dramatic effect, because apparently being King of Hell means you have to milk every moment. "From now on, I banish you and strip you of your identity as a prince!"

    The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Exiled. Stripped of my title. It was one thing to be the family disappointment, but this? This was a whole new level of family dysfunction.

    "Father!" Apollonia''s voice cut through the stunned silence, a mix of shock and concern.

    Luke''s head snapped towards her, his gaze enough to make even the bravest demon quail. "Quiet, child! I am the demon king of this realm. Nobody disobeys me! Ever!"

    Apollonia fell silent, but I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Poor kid. Always trying to stand up for her screw-up big brother.

    I pulled myself to my feet, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth. Guess daddy dearest had knocked me around harder than I thought. I caught Apollonia''s eye, giving her a small nod to say ''I''m fine''. Then, squaring my shoulders, I turned to face the king.

    "I will leave as you wish, father," I said, trying to inject as much dignity into my voice as possible. Which, given that I was bruised, bleeding, and newly homeless, wasn''t much.

    I let my gaze sweep across the room onest time. My mother, cold and impassive as always. My brothers, barely containing their glee at my downfall. And Apollonia, the only spot of warmth in this frigid family tableau.

    As I turned to leave, the reality of the situation started to sink in. I knew why Father was so quick to banish me and strip away my title. It wasn''t about punishment or tough love. No, it was all about the money. By cutting me off, he was washing his hands of any responsibility for my debt. If - when - my business failed, the bank wouldn''t be able toe knocking on the pce doors.

    It would have been pocket change for the royal family to cover that loan. But to my father, even that small amount wasn''t worth spending on his "trashy" son. I was a bad investment, and Luke Morningstar didn''t do bad investments.

    I walked out of the pce gates, my few possessions hastily shoved into a bag. Here I was, about to make a movie about a powerful demon family, and I''d just been kicked out of my own.

    But you know what? Maybe this was exactly what I needed. No more safety, no more royal resources to fall back on. Just me, my crazy dream, and a warehouse full of misfits crazy enough to believe in it.

 Chapter 7: Real friend

    <h4>Chapter 7: Real friend</h4>

    Well, nothing says "fallen from grace" quite like buying a third-hand bed for twenty bucks and shoving it into the corner of a rented warehouse. But hey, when life gives you lemons, make a lemonade stand in Hell, right?

    As I maneuvered the bed into what was quickly bing my new home/office/film studio, I could feel the confused stares of George and our newly hired crew boring into my back.

    "Why are you putting a bed in that corner?" George finally asked, voicing what everyone was clearly thinking.

    I cleared my throat, trying to hide my embarrassment behind a facade of nonchnce. "Um... I kind of think that this warehouse has plenty of space. Then I thought, why not use this ce for, you know? A home too? I think I can sleep in this ce."

    The silence that followed was so thick you could cut it with a demon''s w. The phrase "silence was deafening" had never felt so apt.

    George scratched the back of his head, looking at me like I''d grown a second pair of horns. "You''re acting weird today." He paused, then added, "Well, you''re always acting weird."

    "Let''s get to work, guys. Forget about the bed," I said, forcing augh that sounded hollow even to my own ears. Desperate to change the subject, I turned to the writers. "You guys, let''s work on this script that I''ve been writing for days. Help me revise it."

    As the writers nodded, I addressed the rest of the crew. "As for you guys, we''ll be nning our first film together."

    And so began my new life as an exiled prince turned wannabe film mogul.

    ***

    Two days blurred together in a haze of script revisions, film nning, and tinkering with our makeshift camera.

    George and I became experts at dumpster diving in the electronics district, piecing together our equipment from the castoffs of demons and dwarves alike.

    One morning, as George and I were on our daily garbage collection run (because nothing says "living the dream" like picking through trash), I couldn''t shake the feeling that more eyes than usual were on me.

    Sure, I was used to being scrutinized as the family failure, but this felt different. More intense.

    Suddenly, George called out, "Hey, Arthur. Look at this." He was holding up a newspaper, his expression a mix of concern and disappointment.

    The front page headline hit me like a punch to the gut: "Youngest Demon Prince Exiled by King Luke Morningstar".

    I felt my blood run cold. So much for keeping a low profile.

    George shook his head, sighing. "So you''ve been exiled. You didn''t even tell your old friend."

    I tried to keep my voice steady, aiming for casual indifference and probably missing by a mile. "What use would it be telling you that? It''s not that important anyway."

    George looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and understanding. "Not important? Arthur, you''re living in our warehouse. Your whole life has been turned upside down. That seems pretty important to me."

    I felt a lump forming in my throat. Here was George, my friend who''d stuck with me through failed invention after failed invention, looking at me with genuine concern. And I''d been too proud, too afraid, to confide in him.

    "I... I didn''t want you to think less of me," I admitted, the words feeling strange on my tongue. Honesty wasn''t exactly a prized trait in demon society.

    George snorted. "Think less of you? Arthur, I''ve seen you set your own butt on fire trying to invent a self-warming toilet seat. Trust me, there''s not much lower you can go in my estimation."

    Despite everything, I felt augh bubble up in my chest. Leave it to George to find the humor in my royal fall from grace.

    "So," he said, tossing the newspaper aside, "what''s the n now, oh great exiled one?"

    I looked at him, then at the piles of electronic scraps surrounding us, and felt a grin spread across my face. "The n, my vertically challenged friend, is to make a movie so good it''ll make my dear old dad choke on his morning cup of virgin blood."

    George grinned back. "Now that''s the crazy Arthur I know and tolerate. Let''s get to it then. These circuits won''t salvage themselves."

    As we resumed our dumpster diving, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Sure, I was exiled, broke, and living in a warehouse. But I had a friend who believed in me, a crew ready to follow my crazy vision, and a dream that not even the King of Hell could crush.

    ***

    George and I trudged back to our makeshift studio, our armsden with bags of electronic scraps. The weight of our haul was nothingpared to the heaviness in my chest after the newspaper revtion.

    As we dumped our treasure trove of junk onto the floor, George surveyed our loot with a gleam in his eye. "These scraps should be enough to help us build lights, mics, and probably another colored camera," he said, rubbing his hands together like a mad scientist about to bring his creation to life.

    I nodded, trying to match his enthusiasm. "Well, that''s for sure. But these scraps alone won''t do it. We still need to buy important parts from the electronics store, but this stuff saves us a lot of money."

    We dove into our work, sorting through the pile of technological refuse. It was overwhelming at first nce, a jumble of wires, circuits, and things I couldn''t even name. But between my knack for jerry-rigging and George''s uncanny ability to make something out of nothing, we were in our element.

    Though George and I might have a talent for identally blowing things up when we try to invent stuff from scraps, but recreating existing tech? That''s a whole different ballgame. As experienced mechanics (well, experienced in making things go boom, at least), cobbling together film equipment from our electronic garbage heap wasn''t as daunting as you''d think. Sure, we''d need to buy some keyponents from actual stores, but hey, that''s what our meager budget was for, right?

    As we were elbow-deep in wires and circuit boards, I noticed a group of our newly hired employees approaching. They were clutching papers in their hands and wearing expressions that made my stomach drop.

    "Oh, guys, what do you need?" I asked, trying to sound chipper despite the growing sense of dread.

    Their response hit me like a ton of bricks. "Um... We''re actually here to resign."

    "Yes." The others nodded in unison, like a herd of demonic bobbleheads.

    "Me too," echoed voices from across the warehouse.

    I felt a wave of solemnity wash over me as I realized almost half of my newly hired recruits were jumping ship. Thirty of them, to be exact. When I pressed for exnations, all I got were mumbled excuses and averted gazes.

 Chapter 8: Welcome aboard

    <h4>Chapter 8: Wee aboard</h4>

    As the newly resigned employees filed out, leaving behind the scent of crushed dreams and broken promises (or maybe that was just the smell of our junkyard finds), I turned to the remaining 28 employees. "What do you think, guys? Why did they resign?"

    They exchanged nces like kids ying hot potato with a secret. Finally, someone gestured to the pile of newspapers on our salvaged sofa.

    And just like that, it hit me. The exile. My fall from princely grace sshed across the front pages for all to see. Of course. They''d signed up to work for a prince, not some exiled nobody running a film studio out of a glorified junk heap.

    Looking at the employees who stayed, I couldn''t help but wonder if they were just here for the paycheck. But you know what? At this point, I''d take what I could get.

    I squared my shoulders, channeling every cheesy motivational speech I''d ever heard. "You guys that stayed, I don''t know what''s your reason for not leaving, but I promise you that you won''t regret it. We will be creating our future together, and that will begin with our first film."

    The words hung in the air,peting with the smell of old electronics and broken dreams.

    But as I looked at the faces of those who remained - a motley crew of demons, few dwarves - I saw something unexpected. A glimmer of hope. A spark of excitement. Or maybe it was just the reflection off our pile of scraps. Either way, I''ll take it.

    So here we were. An exiled prince, a disaster-prone dwarf, and a ragtag team of misfits crazy enough to stick around. Not exactly the dream team I''d imagined, but hey, every great underdog story starts somewhere, right?

    ***

    One and a half weeks of sleepless nights, countless coffee runs, and more than a few singed eyebrowster, George and I finally cracked it. Our colored camera was ready, and boy, was it a sight to behold.

    I gathered the crew around, feeling like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of a hat. "Alright, folks. Prepare to have your minds blown."

    As the first images flickered to life, full of vibrant colors, the gasps were audible.

    "Holy hellfire," someone muttered. "It''s actually in color."

    "I''ve never seen moving pictures like this before," another voice chimed in, awe evident in their tone.

    A young demoness, her eyes wide with excitement, turned to me. "We''re really going to make a film with this?"

    I couldn''t help but grin. "You bet your horns we are." As the projection ended, I added, "We''ve got technology the big studios can only dream of. This color camera is our secret weapon."

    George puffed up like a proud papa. "And I''m the one who contributed the most to this invention!" he boasted.

    I chuckled, patting him on the back. "Yeah, yeah, you''re a regr demon Edison. That''s why most of the invention patents are in our names."

    "Our names?" George squinted at me suspiciously.

    Clearing my throat, I quickly changed the subject. "Now that we''ve got our camera, it''s time to start casting for our first film."

    Immediately, hands shot up around the room.

    "Boss, can I be in the movie?"

    "Ooh, me too! I''ve always wanted to be on the big screen!"

    "I can y a tree really well! Watch!"

    I held up my hands, trying not tough. "Whoa, hold your hellhounds there, people. You''re crew, remember? Didn''t they teach you in film school that you''re supposed to stay behind the camera? Look, if we need extras, maybe you can sneak in. But that''s it."

    A chorus of disappointed groans filled the air.

    "Come on, don''t look so glum," I said, trying to rally their spirits. "Do a killer job on this film, and when it''s a hit, you''ll all be hotmodities in the industry. Your names in the credits will be worth more than a cameo, trust me."

    That seemed to do the trick. The energy in the room picked up again as we started discussing the casting process.

    Obviously, we couldn''t afford any big-name actors. But that was fine by me. I had my eye on the hungry up-anders, the ones wing their way up from rock bottom. They''d bring a raw energy to the film that no pampered star could match.

    Plus, I already had two key roles locked in my mind: yours truly as Michael, and that old codger who owned the Grand Theatre as Don Vito. It was perfect casting, if I do say so myself.

    As we dove into the casting ns, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of excitement.

    Sure, we were a ragtag bunch of misfits working out of a glorified junkyard. But we had passion, we had innovation, and most importantly, we had nothing to lose.

    ***

    Later that day, I found myself back at the old Fend Grand Theatre. The ce was a ghost townpared to the madhouse it had been during the "Rome Can''t be Touched" premiere. I could count the people in line on one hand ¨C if I were missing three fingers.

    After the whopping crowd of two made their way inside, it was my turn to face the ticket booth.

    The old guy''s face lit up with recognition. "Oh, Your Highness. Another film to catch today?" he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

    I couldn''t help butugh. "Your Highness? Looks like someone''s behind on the gossip. I''m not exactly prince charming anymore."

    He just sighed, shaking his head. "I know about it, kid. You''re exiled now. But that doesn''t mean I''ll treat you any different."

    I felt a lump form in my throat. Damn, I didn''t expect the old codger to hit me in the feels like that. Trying to y it cool, I cleared my throat and got down to business.

    "By the way, old guy. Are you interested¡ª"

    "The name''s Rocky," he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

    I coughed, feeling my face heat up. All these years, and I never bothered to learn his name. Some prince I was.

    "Right. Old Rocky," I corrected myself, trying to salvage some dignity. "Are you interested in being an actor?"

    Rocky''s eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. "Actor?" he repeated, looking equal parts amused and intrigued. "Why are you asking?"

    I grinned, sliding a paper across the counter. "Here. Give this a read. I''ve started a filmpany, and I''m about to make my first picture. Thought you might be interested."

    As Rocky scanned the paper, his expression grew serious. "So... This is the reason you got exiled."

    Now it was my turn to be surprised. "You knew?"

    He nodded, chuckling. "Yes. It was all over the newspapers."

    My mind raced. There was only one demon who could''ve leaked that info to the press ¨C my dear brother Bobby. That slimeball owned a newspaper, and apparently had no qualms about airing the family''s dirtyundry.

    Pushing thoughts of my backstabbing brother aside, I focused on Rocky. "Well, I''ll be back tomorrow if you want some time to think it over¡ª"

    "No need to wait," Rocky cut me off, a smile spreading across his weathered face. "I''m in."

    I blinked, caught off guard. "You''re in? Just like that?"

    Rocky nodded, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light I''d never noticed before. "Yes. I''m curious about this film that cost you your royal status. I want to see for myself what could be worth giving up all that prestige."

    I felt a grin spreading across my face. If an old-timer like Rocky could see the potential, who knows what we could achieve?

    "Well then, Rocky," I said, extending my hand. "Wee to the wonderful world of demon cinema. Hope you''re ready for one hell of a ride."

 Chapter 9: Casting

    <h4>Chapter 9: Casting</h4>

    I led Rocky to our studio - or as I liked to call it, our "warehouse of dreams" in the cheap district.

    The ce had filled up quick. Sofas that had seen better days dotted the floor, desks were crammed wherever they''d fit, and my own little corner doubled as both office and bedroom.

    Our cobbled-together equipment, mostly built from scrap, gave the ce a mad scientist vibe.

    The ckboard, covered in chalk scribbles, looked like we were nning to rob a bank instead of make a movie.

    And there, in all its glory, hung our pride and joy - the Hellfire Studios logo. It might''ve been painted on a reimed pizza box, but hey, it was ours.

    I watched Rocky sniff around, feeling my stomach knot up. This was it - the moment he realized he''d signed up for a circus instead of a film studio.

    "So, this is yourpany, huh?" Rocky stroked his chin, his expression unreadable. "I have to say..." he paused, and I braced myself for the worst. "I expected much worse. But this? This is quite alright."

    I felt like I''d just dodged a fireball. "Haha, yeah," Iughed, trying to y it cool. "It''s just the beginning, you know? Rome wasn''t built in a day and all that."

    Rocky''s eyes twinkled. "Don''t worry, kid. I''ve seen shadier operations turn into gold mines. You''ve got potential here."

    Grinning, I pped my hands to get everyone''s attention. "Listen up, folks! This distinguished gentleman here is Rocky. He''s gonna be in our film."

    The room went quiet. I could practically hear the gears turning in their heads as they sized Rocky up.

    Sure, he looked like he''d be more at home feeding pigeons in the park than starring in a movie, but that was the point.

    "He''s ying the Old Don," I exined, watching understanding dawn on their faces. "Trust me, he''s perfect for the part."

    The team nodded, but I could still see doubt in their eyes. What they didn''t know was that Rocky was practically Vito Corleone incarnate. His mannerisms, his voice - hell, we''d barely need makeup. With a bit of practice, he''d nail it.

    George, bless his heart, was the first to break the ice. "Well, wee aboard, Rocky," he said, extending a hand. "I''m George, co-founder of this little madhouse we call apany."

    As Rocky and George shook hands, chatting like old friends, my mind was already racing ahead. We had our Don, we had our Michael (yours truly), but we still needed to flesh out the rest of the cast.

    Finding more actors who were willing to take a chance on us was the next hurdle.

    I turned my attention to Klein, our young demon casting director. The poor kid looked like he was about to melt into a puddle of nervous sweat.

    "So, how''s the casting going? Found any diamonds in the rough?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

    Klein''s eyes darted around like he was looking for an escape route. "Um... I, I didn''t really find one yet..."

    I could practically see the weight of responsibility crushing him. This was why mostpanies wanted experienced folks. But me? I had different ideas.

    Inexperienced people were like nk canvases, ready for me to paint my vision on. They were cheap, theyined less, and most importantly, they were malleable. They''d follow my lead, their whole careers held in my palm like puppets on strings¡ª

    Whoa there, Arthur. I shook my head slightly. Getting a bit too Aizen forfort.

    "Where''s the list of rock-bottom actors?" I asked, pushing away my momentary delusions of grandeur. "Let''s take a look."

    Klein nodded frantically, handing over a stack of papers. ck and white headshots stared up at me, names scrawled beneath each desperate smile.

    I flipped through the pages, then looked back at Klein. "Uh, where are the resumes?"

    Klein''s face went from nervous to ''oh crap'' in record time. "Uh... I''ve forgotten about it..."

    Before I could respond, another young demon swooped in like a guardian angel. "Sorry, boss. We''ll just get it at the actors guild," he said, already steering Klein towards the door.

    "Please do, Melvin," I nodded, watching as he practically dragged Klein out of the studio.

    As the door closed behind them, I couldn''t help but chuckle. What a mess. But you know what? It was our mess.

    I looked down at the headshots again. Each face told a story of dreams deferred, of hopes hanging by a thread. These weren''t seasoned pros looking for their next big break. These were demons (and the asional dwarf or other creature) on theirst chance, ready to give it their all.

    ***

    Two days into our casting marathon, and I was starting to feel like we were herding cats. Sure, we''d nailed down some of the side characters, and we had our Vito in Rocky. I was set to y Michael, Johnny Lake had snagged Tom Hagen, and a demon named Charles was our Sonny. But the rest of the main cast? Still up in the air.

    We still needed our Kay, Luca Brasi, Apollonia, Fredo, Johnny Fontane, Moe Greene, Carlo Rizzi... the list went on. At this rate, it''d take us two weeks just to fill out the cast list, let alone start filming.

    I wasn''t sweating the minor roles too much. It was the big ones that kept me up at night. Luca Brasi, the Don''s loyal muscle, needed to be just right. And Kay? She was Michael''s endgame, his anchor. We couldn''t mess that up.

    So there we were, camped out next to the warehouse, watching a parade of hopefuls strut their stuff. The recent rain had left everything smelling fresh, a nice change from our usual eau de demon.

    We''d strategically positioned ourselves to avoid a suspicious pile that was definitely not fertilizer, courtesy of some local hellhound.

    George sat next to me, looking like he was one bad audition away from a nap. I couldn''t me him. We''d seen enough bad acting tost several lifetimes.

    Then, like a ray of sunshine cutting through the gloom, she appeared. A silver-haired elf, so stunning she made even us demons do a double-take.

    I nced down at her profile. "You''re Firfel Evergreen?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

    She nodded, her face a mask of cool professionalism.

    I stroked my chin, mind racing. She was auditioning for Kay, and looks-wise, she was perfect. But could she act?

    "You''re quite the sight for sore eyes," I said, curiosity getting the better of me. "What brings an elf like you to our neck of the woods?"

    Her expression didn''t change, but her voice could have frozen hellfire. "I prefer not to answer that question. I''m here to audition for the role that caught my attention. Nothing more."

    I blinked, caught off guard by her frostiness. But you know what? It was refreshing.

    "Fair enough," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Well then, Firfel Evergreen, show us what you''ve got. The scene is Kay confronting Michael about his family''s business. Action!"

    Firfel Evergreen took a deep breath, and in that moment, something shifted. The cool, aloof elf was gone, reced by a woman torn between love and fear, hope and suspicion.

    "Oh, Michael," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I thought I knew you. I thought... but now I hear these terrible things."

    I felt a chill run down my spine. This wasn''t just good acting - this was alchemy. Firfel had transformed herself entirely, her ethereal elven beauty now radiating the all-too-human pain of Kay Adams.

    George, who''d been half-asleep moments ago, was now sitting bolt upright, his eyes wide.

    Rocky was nodding slowly, a smile ying at the corners of his mouth. Even our crew, who''d seen dozens of auditions by now, had stopped their usual fidgeting and whispering.

    As Firfel continued her monologue, her voice rising and falling with emotion, I found myself forgetting we were in a makeshift audition space next to a warehouse. For those few minutes, we were transported into the world of our film, watching a pivotal moment unfold.

 Chapter 10: Filming Locations

    <h4>Chapter 10: Filming Locations</h4>

    As Firfel finished her scene, I found myself nodding approvingly. Was I biased because of her elven beauty? Maybe. But you know what? In this business, sometimes you''ve got to trust your gut.

    Klein started with the usual spiel. "Okay, that''s a good performance. We''ll contact you if we¡ª"

    I cut him off. "No need to keep her waiting. I''ve made my decision."

    The whole crew looked at me like I''d grown a second head. George leaned in, whispering, "We''re rejecting her already?" Poor guy thought I was about to give Firfel the boot, same as all the others.

    I could see Firfel''s face cloud over. Clearly, she''d overheard George''s not-so-subtle whisper. Time to clear the air.

    Clearing my throat, I looked Firfel straight in the eye. "Firfel Evergreen, you''ll be cast for the role of Kay Adams. That''s my decision."

    The tension in the air evaporated. Firfel''s frown melted away, reced by a barely-there smile that spoke volumes. She was trying to y it cool, but I could tell she was over the moon.

    As Firfel left, I could feel the team''s eyes on me. "What?" I shrugged. "Sometimes you just know."

    ***

    Days rolled by, and our ragtag cast was starting toe together. Ourtest addition? Kyle Brook, our Luca Brasi.

    He is a demon straight out of your worst nightmares, standing at a towering 6''5", built like a brick hellhouse.

    Kyle was what we called a ''behemoth'' - not the actual giant monsters, mind you, just a particrly imposing breed of demon.

    When Kyle lumbered into the audition, I swear the ground shook. The guy was naturally strong, perfect for Luca''s intimidating presence.

    But here''s the kicker - in our looks-obsessed industry, Kyle couldn''t catch a break. He wasn''t "handsome" enough for the camera, apparently.

    As you can see, even in the demon world, we''re ves to human beauty standards. Gotta appeal to the international market, they say. Humans are top dogs now, so we dance to their tune.

    Kyle''s "stiff" acting was just the final nail in his showbiz coffin.

    When I announced Kyle was our Luca, you should''ve seen the looks on everyone''s faces. You''d think I''d just suggested we film the whole thing underwater or something.

    "Boss," one of the crew ventured, "are you sure about this? Kyle''s not exactly... good looking."

    I couldn''t help butugh. "Good looking? Guys, he''s ying a terrifying mob enforcer. Kyle doesn''t need to be pretty - he needs to be scary. And look at him! He''s perfect!"

    Kyle, bless his heart, looked like he couldn''t believe his luck. "You... you really want me for this?" he rumbled, his voice like gravel in a blender.

    I grinned up at him. Way up. "Kyle, my friend, you were born for this role. Just... try not to identally squash any of the other actors, okay?"

    As Kyle left, practically floating despite his massive size, I turned to the team. "See? This is what Hellfire Studios is all about. We don''t just think outside the box - we smash the box and build something new."

    George shook his head, but he was smiling. "You''re crazy, you know that?"

    "Crazy like a fox," Rocky chimed in. "Or should I say, crazy like a demon?"

    I couldn''t help but grin at their bewildered faces. "Well, being crazy enough is what''ll set us apart in this industry. You''ll see - craziness is just another way of life."

    My team exchanged nces, nodding along like they were humoring a madman. Which, let''s face it, they probably were. But hey, in this business, a little madness goes a long way.

    ***

    One more week of chaos, coffee, and questionable decision-makingter, we finally had our cast for "The Demonfather." And let me tell you, it was a real motley crew.

    As for extras? Well, my team suddenly developed a burning passion for being on camera. They were falling over themselves to volunteer, even if it meant juggling their regr jobs. Not that I wasining - their enthusiasm saved us a bundle, and hey, no one could use me of employee abuse. Win-win, right?

    Our cast was shaping up to be quite the colorful bunch. Take Johnny Lake, our Tom Hagen. He''s a Devilkin, a breed of demon known for being sharp as a tack and twice as crafty.

    One look at his sly grin and you knew he was perfect for the role of the family''s smooth-talking consigliere.

    Then there''s Charles Flirt ying Sonny. He''s what we call a Scale Demon - still humanoid, but with patches of scales that make him look like he''s wearing the world''s weirdest body armor. But the guy''s got swagger for days, just what we needed for the hotheaded eldest son.

    And of course, our Kay Adams - Firfel Evergreen. An elf in a sea of demons, standing out like a sore thumb in the best way possible. Perfect for the outsider who captures Michael''s heart.

    The rest of the cast? Let''s just say I outdid myself. Each one chosen with the precision of a demonic ritual... and about the same level of risk.

    Now, with our band of misfits assembled, it was time for the next challenge: finding spots in our hellishndscape that could pass for my taste.

    ***

    After three days of scouting that felt more like a demonic scavenger hunt, we finally nailed down our locations.

    First up, we''ve got the Neighborhood of Gloomstone. Simr to Brooklyn, but with a hellish twist. Narrow streets packed tighter than sardines in a can, brownstone buildings that have seen better millennia, and demons of all shapes and sizes going about their business. The air''s thick with the scent of brimstone and questionable street food. It''s perfect for our gritty street scenes.

    Then there''s the Crimson Quarter. This is our Little Italy stand-in, but trust me, it''s anything but little. It''s the stomping ground of the Morningstar royal family - yeah, my family. But hey, if we''re going for authenticity in showing a crime family''s turf, might as well use the real deal, right?

    For our industrial scenes, we''ve got the Abyssal Docks. It''s part of Gloomstone, but it''s got its own charm - if by charm you mean rusted cranes, murky waters, and the constant feeling that you might get shoved into said murky waters if you look at someone wrong. It''s perfect for those tense waterfront meetings.

    But the real gem? That''s the Great Neck. It''s our Long Ind equivalent, about 17 kilometers from Gloomstone.

    Now, this ce is a goldmine for us, and not just because it''s seen better days. There''s this estate we can rent for cheap - belongs to some fallen noble family.

    The whole Great Neck area is like stepping back in time. While the rest of Fend City is racing towards the future, this ce is stuck in the past. Houses look like they haven''t been updated in a century, which is exactly what we need.

    And in Infernal Heights? Oh boy, we''ve hit the motherlode. Old vis and manors that look like they''re one stiff breeze away from copsing. They''re practically begging to be used as a mob family headquarters.

    As we wrapped up our location scouting, I couldn''t help but grin. "Guys," I said, looking around at my ragtag team, "I think we just found our perfect backdrop for the Demonfather''s world."

    George scratched his head. "Boss, how are we going to make this look like the setting from your script? It''s looking like a... backward ce."

    Iughed. "George, my friend, that''s the beauty of it. We''re not trying to recreate some modern city. We''re building our own world. The Demonfather will be set in a fictional city that exists only in our twisted imaginations."

    Rocky nodded approvingly. "Kid''s got a point. It''s not about copying something that doesn''t exist here. It''s about capturing the feel of a crime-ridden city."

    "Correct," I chimed in. "We''re going to blend these demonic locations with the vibe of a ssic mob story. It''ll be something no one''s ever seen before."

    As we headed back to our warehouse-turned-studio, my mind was racing with possibilities. We had our cast, we had our locations. Now all we needed was to actually make the damn movie.

    "Alright, guys," I announced, feeling that familiar surge of excitement. "Tomorrow, we start turning this crazy dream into reality. We''re going to create a whole new world on film!"

    The cheer that went up could''ve woken the dead. And in this city, it probably did.

 Chapter 11: Action!

    <h4>Chapter 11: Action!</h4>

    The next day dawned, and our little warehouse was buzzing like a hive of caffeinated bees.

    We''d cobbled together our filming equipment, and by some miracle (or perhaps demonic intervention), it was all holding together. George and I had outdone ourselves, really.

    We''d managed to rig up working mics and lighting setups that looked only slightly like they might spontaneouslybust.

    But the real pride and joy? Our cameras. While juggling auditions and prep work, George and I had somehow found the time to build two more color cameras.

    They weren''t pretty, mind you - they looked like something you''d find if you crossed a junkyard with a mad scientist''sb - but they worked.

    Our crew of fresh-faced graduates was stepping up too. Despite theirck of experience, they were taking charge, coordinating everything from shot setups to coffee runs with surprising efficiency.

    Maybe there was something to be said for youthful enthusiasm after all.

    Now, about the story of the Demonfather itself. I''d made some... adjustments. Using real demon n names seemed like a fast track to getting us all turned into hellhound chow. Exiled prince or not, I wasn''t about to paint a target on our backs.

    Our first shooting location was the Shadow Estate, perched at the top of Infernal Heights like a brooding vulture.

    The ce had seen better days - probably about a century ago - but we didn''t have the budget for a full renovation. Enter Firfel, our unexpected savior. With a wave of her hand and some elven magic, she''d transformed the dusty old manor into something that actually looked habitable. In just an hour, no less. I made a mental note to give her a raise... once we actually started making money.

    Just outside the manor, we''d set up what could generously be called "tents" - if you squinted and had a vivid imagination.

    Inside these flimsy excuses for shelter, our makeshift makeup team was working their magic on the cast.

    When Rocky emerged from his tent, I had to do a double-take. The transformation was... well, impressive didn''t quite cover it.

    He looked every inch the Don Vito Corleone we needed - if Vito had been a demon, that is. Rocky''s red, reptilian eyes and vampire-like teeth added an otherworldly touch to the character.

    It wasn''t surprising, really. Rocky was a Vampire Demon, after all. No horns or tail or scales for him - just pale skin that made him look like he''d never seen the sun.

    Rocky caught my eye and sauntered over, his walk a perfect blend of elderly caution and quiet power. It was clear he''d been practicing.

    "What do you think, my friend?" he asked, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "Do I look the part?"

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Rocky, old pal, you''ve got a talent for this acting gig." And it was true.

    Sure, I''d tweaked the role a bit to fit Rocky''s natural personality, but the essence of the Don was still there. It was like the character had been waiting inside Rocky all along, just needing an excuse toe out.

    The rest of the cast emerged from their tents, each one a perfect blend of demonic features and mob style.

    "Alright, guys," I called out, pping my hands to get everyone''s attention. "This is it. The beginning of our film. First scene is in Don Vito''s study. Let''s make it happen."

    As we all filed into the manor, I couldn''t help but feel a mix of nerves and exhration.

    I took onest look around at my motley crew and cast - all dressed up and ready to y make-believe.

    "Quiet on set," I called out, trying to sound like I knew what I was doing. "And... action!"

    The moment I called "Action!", it was like flipping a switch. The crew sprang into motion, cameras rolling, and our actors transformed before my eyes.

    Richard, a middle-aged demon we''d snagged for the role of Amerigo Bonasera, took center stage.

    I''ve kept the original family names from The Godfather - no sense messing with perfection - but I''d taken some creative liberties with the locations. Gloomstone was now "Manhattan", Crimson Quarter became "Little Underworld", and Abyssal Docks? Meet "Brooklyn Docks". Sure, these ces didn''t exist in our world, but that was the beauty of fiction, right?

    Richardunched into his monologue, his voice dripping with emotion. "I believe in Empirica. Empirica has made my fortune. And I raised my daughter in Empirican fashion. I gave her freedom, but I taught her to never dishonor the family. She found a boyfriend. Not a demon..."

    As he continued, describing his daughter''s abuse, I could almost feel the anger radiating off him. "Now she will never be beautiful again," he finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

    I nced over at Rocky, who was looking a bit lost. He caught my eye, silently pleading for help. I gave him an encouraging nod, mouthing "Remember our rehearsals." It was all I could do not to cross my fingers and pray to whatever demon gods were listening.

    Rocky seemed to steel himself, then subtly nodded back. He gestured to Charles, our Sonny, to bring Bonasera a drink. The movement was smooth, natural - every inch the Don we needed him to be.

    "Sorry..." Richard mumbled, epting the drink with shaking hands. He took a sip, his eyes never leaving Rocky''s face.

    I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning. Richard was nailing it. It was a shame he''d nevernded a big role before - the guy had talent.

    As the scene continued, I felt a mixture of pride and disbelief. We were actually doing it. Making a movie. A demon mob movie, sure, but a movie nheless.

    "Cut!" I called out, once the scene wrapped. "That was... that was great, guys. Really great."

    The tension in the room broke, reced by grins and excited chatter. Rocky let out a breath I think he''d been holding since we started rolling.

    "How''d I do, kid?" he asked, his usual gruff demeanor returning now that he was out of character.

    I pped him on the shoulder. "Rocky, my friend, I think you just became a star."

    As we set up for the next shot, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of optimism. We had a long way to go, sure, but if this first scene was any indication, we might just pull this crazy scheme off.

    Watch out, demon world. The Demonfather ising, and he''s bringing a whole new kind of family business with him.

    Oh, right. I should probably mention that "Empirica" is the big kahuna of human nations in our world. Anyway, back to our little filming.

    Richard was really getting into his groove now. His voice trembled with barely contained rage as he continued, "I report it to the police, like a good Empirican. These two boys were brought to trial. The judge sentenced them to three years in prison... Suspended sentence. Suspended sentence! They went free that very day..." His face contorted with disgust. "I stood there like a fool... And those two bastards... They smiled at me. Then I said to my wife, ''For justice, we must go to the Corleone''."

    I held my breath as Rocky''s cue approached. This was the moment of truth. Rocky shifted in his chair, his hand reaching out to pet the demon cat in hisp. I had to stifle a chuckle - as if I''d forget the cat. That furball was practically a supporting character in its own right.

    "Why did you go to the police? Why didn''t youe to me first?" Rocky rumbled, his voice low and gravelly, every inch the Don we needed him to be.

    I felt my heart soar. Rocky was nailing it. The hesitation from earlier was gone, reced by a quiet confidence that practically oozed power.

    The scene continued, each line delivered with a precision that made me want to pinch myself. Was this really happening? Were we actually pulling this off?

    As Richard delivered his final plea and Rocky gave his measured response, I could barely contain my excitement. When thest line was delivered, I waited a beat, savoring the moment before calling out, "Cut!"

    The room erupted into a flurry of movement and chatter. Rocky slumped in his chair, the weight of the Don falling away from his shoulders. Richard wiped his brow, looking both exhausted and exhrated.

 Chapter 12: Progress

    <h4>Chapter 12: Progress</h4>

    After wrapping up the opening scene, we all huddled around the projector to review our handiwork. I couldn''t help but chuckle at Rocky''s rare disy of embarrassment as he watched himself on screen.

    "That was a very good start for your career as an actor," I said, nudging him with my elbow.

    Rocky raised an eyebrow. "Career?"

    "Didn''t you dream of being an actor when you were young?" I asked, genuinely curious.

    A wistful look crossed Rocky''s face. "Hehe, well, if this film of yours receives a great response, maybe my dream will be achieved after all."

    The crew and I exchanged smiles. Who knew our gruff old ticket-taker had such hidden depths?

    ***

    (Rocky''s POV)

    After the review session with the young prince - er, ex-prince Arthur, we dove right back into filming. Next up: the wedding scenes.

    We set up shop just outside the manor, the air buzzing with nervous energy. I found myself adjusting my tie for the hundredth time, trying to channel the gravitas of Don Vito.

    The actress ying Connie, my character''s daughter, was a subus demon. But if you ask me, she looked about as subus-like as a potato. Average as theye. I couldn''t help but wonder what Arthur saw in her, but hey, I''m just the actor, not the casting director.

    As we got into position for the family photo, I cleared my throat and asked the "photographer" (really just one of our crew pulling double duty), "Where''s Michael?"

    The guy just shook his head, right on cue.

    I gotta hand it to our ragtag team - they were giving it their all. The production three cobbled-together color cameras were whirring away, capturing the scene from different angles.

    The cast was in full swing, and our crew was running around like caffeinated imps, juggling their regr jobs with their roles as extras.

    And there was Arthur, decked out in his Michael soldier suit, somehow managing to direct and observe while getting ready for his own scene. The kid looked like he was in seven ces at once, barking orders one minute and adjusting someone''s costume the next.

    ***

    (Arthur''s POV)

    Directing is no joke, let me tell you. We''d made some decent progress on the wedding scenes, but man, was I feeling it. With our skeleton crew and bargain-bin equipment, every shot felt like a small miracle.

    When it came time for my scene as Michael, I did my best to channel that wide-eyed, optimistic Empirican vibe. You know, the kind of guy who still believes in the system and all that jazz.

    Now, I should probably exin something about Empirica. In our real world, it''s this powerful human nation that wouldn''t give demons the time of day. But in my Demonfather universe? It''s a melting pot of races - demons, elves, dwarves, all living together in somewhat harmony. Hey, it''s my film, I''ll worldbuild how I want, thank you very much.

    Surprisingly, slipping into Michael''s shoes wasn''t as tough as I''d thought it''d be. Maybe it''s because we''ve got more inmon than I''d like to admit. Both youngest sons, both ck sheep of the family... though I doubt Michael ever got exiled for trying to make a movie. Then again, stranger things have happened.

    One of the best parts? Getting to show off Firfel to the "family".

    As an elf, she stood out like a sore thumb in our sea of demons and dwarves. But that was the point, wasn''t it? Kay Adams, the outsider, the glimpse of a different world.

    During one take, I caught Firfel eyeing Kyle, our Luca Brasi. The big lug was off to the side, muttering to himself, "On the wedding day of your daughter..." over and over. Method acting at its finest, folks.

    I leaned in close to Firfel, ying up Michael''s protective side. "He''s a very scary guy," I stage-whispered.

    Firfel, ever the professional, didn''t miss a beat. "Well, who is he? What''s his name?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of fear.

    We kept at it, take after take, until finally, mercifully, we wrapped the wedding scenes. As I called "Cut!" for thest time, I felt a mixture of exhaustion and exhration. We''d done it. It wasn''t perfect, but by the horns of the devil, we''d actually done it.

    ***

    Days blurred together as we kept filming, inching forward one scene at a time. Today''s challenge? Tom Hagen''s visit to the big-shot director''s mansion to get Johnny Fontane cast.

    Now, to really sell the director''s arrogance, we needed someone who could ooze entitlement. Enter our secret weapon: a human actor. Yeah, you heard that right. We snagged him for cheap - turns out even in the human world, he couldn''t catch a break. Their loss, our gain.

    I should probably exin something here. Humans living in the demon world? Not as rare as you''d think. They''ve even got their own little enves scattered around. And boy, do they act like they own the ce.

    To be fair, their swagger isn''t entirely misced. Humans have spread across two whole continents - Empirica and Evros. Meanwhile, us demons are packed into Anatolia. Sure, we''ve got a decent chunk ofnd, but when ites to poption? We''re outnumbered, big time.

    It''s a numbers game, really. Demon birth rates are lower than a imp''s IQ, and the projections aren''t looking great. Give it a few more years, and we might be looking at a serious demon shortage.

    As I watched our human actor strut onto set, oozing that perfect blend of charm and condescension, I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of... something. Envy? Worry? Who knows. But it was a stark reminder of the changing tides in our world.

    "Alright, people!" I called out, pushing those thoughts aside. "We''ll start filming at any moment now. Johnny Devilkin, you ready to grovel?"

    Johnny, our Tom Hagen, gave me a thumbs up. "Ready to beg like my hellhound''s life depends on it, boss."

    I grinned. "Perfect. And you, Mr. Big Shot Director?" I turned to our human actor. "Remember, you''re not just ying a role. You''re representing your entire species'' superiorityplex."

    The guy actually puffed up his chest at that. Method acting at its finest.

    "Alright, guys," I said, settling into my director''s chair (slightly less wobbly crate). "Three, two, one. And... action!"

    The scene unfolded like a demonic dance. Johnny, our Tom Hagen,id on the charm thick as msses, trying to convince Mr. Big Shot Director to cast Johnny Fontane.

    I had to hand it to Johnny - for a demon, he yed a pretty convincing demonwyer.

    But the real showstopper? That came in the next scene.

    Our human actor, sprawled across his bed, clutching a bloody unicorn head like it was his firstborn.

    "Ahh!!!"

    It was grotesque, it was over-the-top, it was... perfect.

    "Cut!" I called out, trying not to grin like a maniac. "That was... surprisingly good."

    Our human actor sat up, still cradling the prop unicorn head. "Surprisingly?" he echoed, sounding mildly offended.

    I shrugged. "Hey, I calls ''em like I sees ''em. Now put down Sparkles and let''s review the footage."

    We were all set to review the scene when our human actor decided to pull a diva move. He swaggered off, not even bothering to watch his performance. Talk about confidence.

    "Aren''t you gonna watch?" I called after him.

    He tossed a dismissive wave over his shoulder. "Don''t need to, darling. I know I nailed it."

    I couldn''t help but smirk. His ego might be the size of the Eden continent rgest continent of this world), but it worked in our favor. The guy had no clue we were shooting in color. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss - for us, anyway.

    As the scene yed out, I had to admit - his scream was something else. It sent shivers down my spine, and I''m a demon for hell''s sake. In my humble, possibly biased opinion, it even outdid the original scene from my previous life. The terror in his eyes? Oscar-worthy, if I do say so myself.

    "Well," I announced to the remaining crew, "I think we''ve got ourselves a keeper."

 Chapter 13: Theme

    <h4>Chapter 13: Theme</h4>

    It waste at night, long after everyone had gone home, I found myself alone in the studio.

    The quiet was almost eerie after the constant chaos of filming. I queued up the footage we''d shot so far, settling in for a private viewing party.

    As Rocky''s gravelly voice filled the room - "I''ll make him an offer he can''t refuse" - I felt goosebumps rise on my arms. It was surreal, hearing those iconic words in our demon-infested version of the ssic.

    Watching the scenes unfold, a wild idea started to take shape. We needed music - a theme that could capture the essence of our demon mob epic. And who better topose it than yours truly?

    Okay, so maybe I wasn''t exactly a musical prodigy in this life or myst. But I remembered enough of the Godfather theme to replicate it. All I needed was a group of musicians crazy enough to bring my half-baked ideas to life.

    I grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling down notes and humming to myself. It was probably a good thing no one was around to hear my tone-deaf attempts atposition.

    ***

    The next day, I roped in my crew to help track down a music group willing to bring my demonic symphony to life. And by "willing," I mean "cheap enough that we could afford them without selling our souls." Well, what''s left of our souls, anyway.

    "Alright, folks," I announced, waving my scribbledposition like a battle g. "We need musicians. Preferably ones who won''tugh us out of the room when they see this."

    George squinted at my chicken scratch. "Boss, are you sure that''s music and not a summoning spell gone wrong?"

    I chose to ignore that. "Look, we''re not aiming for the demon philharmonic here. Just find me a group that can y more than two notes without setting something on fire."

    As the crew scattered to scour the underbelly of Fend City''s music scene, I couldn''t help but wince at our financial situation. We''d already burned through 29 thousand dors on location rentals, filming permits, and extras for scenes like the wedding.

    And that''s not even counting the 40 thousand we''d dropped on feeding and paying our ragtag cast and crew.

    I nced at our dwindling funds. Out of our original 200k, we were down to 131 thousand. It was like watching sand slip through an hourss, if the sand was money and the hourss was our increasingly precarious budget.

    Thank hell I''d managed to sweet-talk the crew into taking a cut of the box office instead of their full sry. Of course, that was assuming we''d have a box office to cut. But hey, optimism is free, right?

    "At least they''re notining," I muttered to myself, watching the crew bustling around.

    They seemed content with the three square meals a day and the promise of "experience." Part of me felt guilty, but another part - the part that was quickly learning the cutthroat nature of demon show business - knew this was how dreams got made. On empty stomachs and even emptier wallets.

    Rocky sidled up to me, eyeing the budget sheet I was scowling at. "You know, kid, in my day, we didn''t need fancy music or color cameras to tell a story."

    I raised an eyebrow. "In your day, was that before or after the invention of fire?"

    He chuckled, a sound like gravel in a blender. "All I''m saying is, don''t lose sight of what''s important. The story, the performances. That''s what people will remember."

    I nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and determination. "Thanks, Rocky. But trust me, once they hear this theme, they''ll never forget the Demonfather."

    As if on cue, George burst back into the studio, out of breath and grinning like he''d just won the demon lottery. "Boss! You''re not gonna believe this, but I found a group of banshee sisters who owe me a favor. They''re willing to do it for free!" I showed off my musicposition sheet.

    I blinked. "Banshees?"

    George nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! They''ve been trying to break into the music scene for ages. Figure this is their big break."

    I looked down at myposition, then back at George''s eager face. What the hell, right? "Book ''em," I said, grinning despite myself. "Let''s see if they can sing or y instruments."

    George chuckled, puffing up with pride. "Oh, they definitely can. I''ve seen them y before. Their fee''s usually pretty steep, but when I mentioned it was for a movie soundtrack and called in that favor they owed me, they agreed to do it for free."

    I couldn''t help butugh. "Oh, I guess the idiot ones are always favored by luck," I quipped, clearly referring to George''s unexpected stroke of good fortune.

    But George, bless his heart,pletely missed the jab. "Boss Arthur, don''t look down on yourself like that. You''re just lucky to have me, but you''re not an idiot."

    The crew and Rocky, who''d been eavesdropping, burst intoughter. Talk about a backfire.

    I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Well, just go and call the banshee sisters."

    George nodded and scurried off, still beaming with misced pride.

    Before long, our studio was invaded by the Banshee Sisters. They swept in like a storm, all flowing dark hair and piercing eyes, lugging instruments that looked like they''d been salvaged from a gothic orchestra''s garage sale.

    Despite being demons, they were human-like, save for their slightly blue-tinged skin and the fact that their hair seemed to move of its own ord. Each sister was breathtakingly beautiful in a way that made you wonder if you''d survive getting close enough for a better look.

    "Ladies," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt, "wee to Hellfire Studios. Ready to make some music soundtrack for my movie?"

    The eldest sister, or at least the one who radiated the most "don''t mess with me" energy, stepped forward. "We hear you have aposition for us?"

    I handed over my scribbled mess of a score, trying not to wince as she scrutinized it. "It''s, uh, a work in progress," I mumbled.

    To my surprise, her eyes lit up. "This... this is intriguing. Sisters, positions!"

    What happened next can only be described as musical magic. The banshees took their ces, instruments at the ready. As they began to y, the studio filled with a sound that was hauntingly familiar yet utterly unique.

    The melody of the Godfather theme emerged, but it was transformed. The banshees'' voices provided an otherworldly choir, their instruments addingyers of depth I hadn''t even imagined. It was beautiful, it was terrifying, it was perfect.

    As thest note faded, I realized I''d been holding my breath. "That was... wow," I managed, eloquent as ever.

    The lead sister smiled, a sight both thrilling and slightly terrifying. "We made some slight adjustments. Hope you don''t mind."

    I shook my head, still in awe. "Mind? That was incredible. You just gave our movie its soul."

    As the crew erupted in apuse and the banshees preened, I caught Rocky''s eye. He gave me a subtle nod, a rare smile ying at his lips.

    I grinned back. We''d done it. We had our cast, our footage, and now, a soundtrack that could raise the dead - or at least give them a good reason to dance elegantly.

 Chapter 14: Ketchup victims

    <h4>Chapter 14: Ketchup victims</h4>

    A week into filming, and we''d be a regr circus act in Fend City. The Crimson Quarter locals eyed us like we were some new species of demon they couldn''t quite figure out. But hey, at least our rtive obscurity worked in our favor. We managed to shoot the scene where Don Vito buys oranges and narrowly escapes an assassination attempt without causing a full-blown panic.

    Our prop gun, lovingly crafted by yours truly and George, was a masterpiece of demon engineering. It fired with a bang that could wake the dead and spat ketchup with enough force to make any vampire drool. Sure, we had a permit, but I still half-expected the demon cops to show up and arrest us all for disturbing the peace. Or worse, crimes against produce.

    ***

    Two dayster.

    We bounced from location to location like a demonic road show. One minute we''re filming Michael and Kay''s shopping trip turned newspaper nightmare, the next we''re setting up in a rented restaurant in Gloomstone for the big Sollozzo-McCluskey scene.

    I was giving a pep talk to our Sollozzo, an Imp Demon who, thankfully, wasn''t actually imp-sized, and McCluskey, a portly Fiend Demon who looked like he ate donuts by the dozen. Perfect casting, if I do say so myself.

    But even as I tried to focus on the scene, I couldn''t help but overhear the not-so-subtle whispers from the restaurant''s actual patrons.

    "Is that the exiled young prince?"

    "Yeah... Looks like they''re filming..."

    "Heh. Heard he got disowned ''cause of this picturepany nonsense."

    "Shh... He might hear you..."

    "Who cares? He''s not a prince anymore."

    I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the judgmental muttering. Instead, I approached the restaurant owner, stering on my best ''I''m-not-bothered'' smile. "We''re about to start filming. When can we expect your customers to clear out so we can get to work?"

    The owner barely nced at me. "Just wait a few minutes. Don''t be so impatient."

    I retreated to my crew, feeling the sting of his indifference. We''d paid good money to rent this ce, but clearly, my fallen status meant we were now second-ss citizens in the demon world.

    Minutes ticked by like hours. The owner was in no hurry to usher out his paying customers, probably enjoying making us wait. But finally, mercifully, thest patron left, and our extras filed in to fill the space.

    As I called the actors to their ces, I took a deep breath, pushing down the frustration and hurt. "Alright, people," I called out, injecting as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could muster. "Let''s make it quick. ces, everyone!"

    The extras settled into their seats, the air thick with anticipation. I held up my hand, fingers syed, and began the countdown.

    "3, 2, 1. Action!" I called out, feeling the familiar shift as I slipped into Michael''s skin.

    Bing Michael was getting easier each time, like putting on a well-worn coat. Today, though, it felt almost too easy. The recent sting of discrimination, the sideways nces, the whispered judgments - they all fed into Michael''splicated emotional state. Who knew being a fallen prince would be such great method acting fodder?

    As the camera rolled, I greeted Sollozzo and McCluskey, shaking their hands with just the right amount of hesitation. Michael was here to discuss the recent tensions, but the undercurrent of danger was palpable.

    I took my seat, letting a hint of nervousness flicker across my face. Sollozzo and McCluskey responded perfectly, their expressions a mix of condescension and underestimation. They looked at Michael - at me - like I was a kid ying in the big leagues.

    The dialogue flowed, tension building with each exchange. Then came my cue to excuse myself to the bathroom. McCluskey, ever the suspicious cop, gave me a pat-down that was just a touch too aggressive. I bit back a smile - our Fiend Demon was really getting into character.

    Once in the bathroom set, I called a quick "Cut!" to reset for the gun retrieval scene. This was where things got interesting.

    I''d given specific instructions to Ryan, our props master, not to tell me where he''d hidden the gun. "Make it authentic," I''d told him. "I want to really look like I''m searching."

    As the camera started rolling again, I let Michael''s nervousness take over. My hands shook slightly as I searched, eyes darting around the bathroom. Where was it? Behind the toilet? Under the sink?

    The seconds ticked by, and I could practically feel the tension from the crew. We couldn''t film this forever. Just as I was about to break character and ask for help, my fingers brushed against something cool and metallic.

    Bingo.

    I pulled out the gun, a mix of relief and dread washing over me - over Michael. This was it. The point of no return.

    I slipped the gun into my pocket and took a deep breath.

    After a quick reset, we dove into the heart of the scene. Sollozzo and McCluskey were deep in conversation, asionally tossing words my way like scraps to a dog. I''d made it clear to our cameraman to keep the focus on my face. This was Michael''s - my - moment of transformation, and I wanted every flicker of emotion captured.

    I let the tension build in my body, my face a carefully crafted mask of nervous determination. The weight of the gun in my pocket felt like it was pulling me down, urging me towards the point of no return.

    Sollozzo turned to me, spouting some line about guarantees. I mumbled a response, barely hearing my own words. The world had narrowed down to this moment, this decision.

    Then, with a surge of resolve that surprised even me, my hand closed around the gun. In one fluid motion, I yanked it out and aimed at Sollozzo''s forehead.

    "Bang!"

    The ketchup explosion was almostical, but the look of shock on Sollozzo''s face was Oscar-worthy. Before McCluskey could even process what was happening, I swung the gun towards him.

    "Bang!"

    Another ketchup casualty. Our Fiend Demon really sold it, his eyes going wide before he slumped forward, a streak of red across his expansive forehead.

    The extras erupted into chaos, screaming and scrambling for the exits. In the midst of it all, I stood there, gun still raised, trying to look both terrified and determined. I nced down at my handiwork, then around the room, before making my hurried exit.

    As I burst out of the restaurant, I was greeted by a small crowd of curious demons who''d gathered to watch our little production. For a moment, the line between Arthur and Michael blurred. Were they looking at the exiled prince or the newly minted killer?

    "Cut!" I shouted, my voice a mix of exhration and relief.

    Just like that, the spell was broken. The tension drained from my body, reced by a giddy sense of aplishment. I couldn''t help but grin. Nailed it.

    "That was... intense," Rocky rumbled, appearing at my side. "For a second there, I almost believed you''d actually offed those two."

    Iughed, running a hand through my hair. "What can I say? I''ve got some pent-up aggression to work out."

    As the crew bustled around, resetting the scene and wiping down our "victims," I caught sight of our impromptu audience. They were muttering among themselves, looking at us with curiosity.

    "Looks like we might be winning some folks over," George said, following my gaze.

    I nodded, feeling a spark of hope. "Maybe. Or maybe they''re just wondering why we''re wasting perfectly good ketchup."

 Chapter 15: Editing

    <h4>Chapter 15: Editing</h4>

    As usual, we huddled around our janky projector to review the day''s work. The restaurant scene flickered to life, and I found myself leaning forward, scrutinizing every frame.

    It was good - damn good, if I do say so myself - but not perfect. A few shots needed touching up, but nothing we couldn''t handle with a quick reshoot.

    "Alright," I announced, pping my hands to get everyone''s attention. "We''ve got a couple of pickups to do, then we''re out of here. Let''s make it snappy - I hear there''s a sale on ketchup down at the Hellmart, and we''re running low."

    The crew chuckled, already moving to reset the scene. It never ceased to amaze me how quickly they could transform from a bunch of misfits into a well-oiled machine.

    We knocked out the reshoots in record time, and before I knew it, we were wrapping up for the day.

    As the crew filed out, chattering about ns for the evening, I found myself alone in the studio once again.

    The silence was almost deafening after the constant buzz of filming. I sighed, looking around at the empty space that had be both my workce and my home. Talk about living the dream, huh?

    But there was no time for self-pity. I had work to do.

    I settled in at my makeshift editing station, surrounded by reels of film and the constant whir of our ancient film splicer. This had be my nightly ritual over the past week - splicing film strips, syncing up the Banshee Sisters'' haunting soundtrack, trying to piece together our cinematic puzzle.

    The Banshees'' music drifted through the studio as I synced it to the visuals. Their otherworldly melodies sent shivers down my spine, even after hearing them a hundred times. It was perfect - hauntingly beautiful and just the right amount of unsettling. Just like our movie.

    Hours ticked by, marked only by the rhythmic snip of the splicer and the asional curse when I messed up a cut. My eyes burned, my back ached, but I couldn''t stop. This wasn''t just busy work - this was creation in its purest form.

    As the first rays of dawn began to peek through the grimy studio windows, I sat back, rubbing my bleary eyes. The editing table was a mess of film strips and discarded cuts, but the reel in front of me... that was magic.

    I threaded it through the projector with trembling hands, holding my breath as the image flickered to life on the wall. There it was - rough and unpolished, but undeniably alive. Our movie. Our Demonfather.

    As I watched Michael''s transformation y out, backed by the haunting strains of the Banshee Sisters, I felt a lump form in my throat. We were doing it. Actually doing it.

    I slumped back in my chair, exhaustion and exhration warring for dominance.

    There was still so much to do, so many scenes to shoot and edit. But in that moment, watching our creatione to life in the pale light of dawn, I knew it was all worth it.

    ***

    Days blurred together in a haze of film reels and ketchup blood.

    I''d decided to postpone shooting Michael''s exile scenes, focusing instead on the parts where I could stay behind the camera. Today''s big scene? Sonny''s dramatic demise at the toll booth.

    We''d set up shop at Horns Field, a patch ofnd in Great Neck that happened to have a conveniently ced toll booth. As I surveyed our makeshift set, I couldn''t help but chuckle at the sight of Charles Flirt living up to his name.

    Our Sonny was currently engaged in what I can only describe as a tragically unsessful attempt to woo one of our crew members. The poor demoness looked like she was trying to decide betweenughter and a restraining order.

    "Charles!" I called out, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice. "We''re about to film!"

    The scale demon turned, his face a picture of embarrassed chagrin. "Oh, okay!" he called back, giving the demoness onest wink before sauntering over.

    I shook my head, grinning. "You know, Charles, you''re supposed to save the charm for on-camera."

    He shrugged, scales glinting in the sunlight. "Can''t help it, boss. It''s in my blood."

    "Yeah, well, try to keep it in your pants for the next few hours, alright? We''ve got a death scene to film."

    As the crew bustled around, setting up cameras and rigging our makeshift special effects, I couldn''t help but feel a swell of pride. We''de a long way from our janky warehouse beginnings.

    Take our car, for instance. On paper, it was a piece of junk from the failing demonpany called "Fire of Hell". But with a little demonic ingenuity (and a lot of elbow grease), George and I had transformed it into something that could almost pass for elegant. At least from a distance. And with squinted eyes.

    "Alright, people!" I called out, pping my hands to get everyone''s attention. "ces, everyone. Charles, you ready to meet your maker?"

    Charles grinned, sliding into the driver''s seat of our refurbished chariot. "Born ready, boss. Just make sure the ketchup''s warm this time, yeah? That cold stuff gives me the creeps."

    Iughed, shaking my head as I made my way behind the camera. "No promises, superstar. Alright, let''s make a best scene. And... action!"

    The scene unfolded like a well-orchestrated dance of chaos. Charles, fully in Sonny mode, pulled up to the toll booth, his face a perfect mask of casual annoyance.

    Our extra, ying the toll booth operator, went through the motions of collecting the fare.

    I held my breath, willing everything to go smoothly. We couldn''t afford a do-over on this one - both literally and figuratively. The special effects for this scene had cost us an arm and a leg (thankfully not literally).

    Suddenly, Charles''s expression shifted, a flicker of realization crossing his face. Right on cue, the toll booth operator ducked out of sight, and our suit-d demon emerged, brandishing a tommy gun that looked surprisingly realistic thanks to some clever runic enhancements.

    Charles''s eyes widened in genuine surprise - whether it was good acting or actual shock at how real everything looked, I couldn''t tell. But it worked.

    As he scrambled to get out of the car, all hell broke loose. The fake windows (because there was no way we were destroying the actual car - it was probably worth more than our entire production at this point) shattered in a shower of safety ss and magic sparks.

    I silently cheered Charles on as he stumbled out of the vehicle. This was it - the moment of truth. Our ambushers emerged from their hiding spots, unleashing a barrage of magical "bullets."

    Charles put on a performance that would make any stunt coordinator proud. He jerked and twisted with each imaginary impact, his face a mask of shock and pain. As he finally crumpled to the ground, continuing to twitch and jerk as the "bullets" kepting, I had to remind myself to breathe. It was just acting, after all.

    Our attackers, seemingly satisfied that Sonny was well and truly "deader than dead," made their hasty exit. Right on cue, another car pulled up, and our Corleone family man stepped out, his face a perfect picture of stunned disbelief as he took in the scene.

    I gestured frantically to our cameraman, making sure he captured both Charles''s prone form and the distant figure of the family man. This was the shot that would tie it all together, the moment that would break the audience''s hearts.

    As thest beats of the scene yed out, I finally allowed myself to rx. We''d done it. Against all odds, we''d pulled off one of the mostplex and crucial scenes in the entire film.

    "Cut!" I called out, my voice a mix of relief and exhration.

    The set erupted into cheers and apuse. Charles, still lying on the ground, raised a triumphant fist in the air before groaning dramatically.

    "Someone want to help me up?" he called out. "I think I''m actually dead this time."

    As the crew rushed to assist our fallen star and begin the cleanup process, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of pride. We''d taken a shoestring budget, a bunch of misfits, and a whole lot of determination, and turned it into something... well, something pretty damn impressive.

    "Not bad, kid," Rocky rumbled, appearing at my side. "For a minute there, I almost believed we were watching a real hit go down."

    I grinned, still riding the high of a sessful shoot. "Thanks, Rocky. Let''s just hope the audience feels the same way."

    We began to pack up, ready to film the next scenes.

 Chapter 16: Ashen Plain

    <h4>Chapter 16: Ashen in</h4>

    With Sonny''s dramatic demise in the can, it was finally time to tackle Michael''s exile scenes. This meant capturing the whole shebang - the escape, the Apollonia romance, and her tragic end. No pressure, right?

    Our ragtag crew packed up and embarked on a journey that felt more like an odyssey than a location shoot. Seven hours, four buses, and one questionably roadworthy taxiter, we found ourselves in the Ashen ins.

    As we stumbled off thest bus, stretching cramped limbs and rubbing bleary eyes, I couldn''t help but grin. The ce was perfect - a dead ringer for the Sicily of my imagination, even though Sicily didn''t exist in this world.

    The Ashen ins sprawled before us, a patchwork of wide farms and rustic charm that screamed "underdeveloped rural paradise."

    As the crew began unloading our equipment, I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of nerves. We weren''t just in unfamiliar territory - we were in Asmodeus family turf.

    This ce was governed by none other than Agustin Asmodeus, son of the big bad Asmodeus himself back in Fend City.

    Rocky sidled up to me, his voice low enough that the rest of the crew couldn''t hear. "Uh, your highness? You did get permission to film here, right? I''d rather not offend a demon lord."

    I stered on my most confident smile, the one I used to use at royal functions when I had no clue what was going on. "Of course, Rocky! What do you take me for, some kind of reckless, exiled prince with no regard for proper procedures?"

    The look he gave me could have curdled milk. "That''s exactly what I take you for."

    Iughed, hoping it didn''t sound as nervous as I felt. My palms were sweating, and I''m pretty sure my horns were drooping a bit. "Rx. I sent a, uh, very polite request to the Asmodeus family. I''m sure it''s fine."

    Rocky didn''t look convinced, but the rest of the crew seemed to take my word for it.

    Or maybe they were just too tired from the journey to argue. Either way, we started making our way towards the home we''d be renting for the next few days.

    As we trudged along, our equipment nking and rattling, I couldn''t help but marvel at thendscape. The Ashen ins lived up to their name - the ground was a soft gray, like the ashes of a long-dead fire. But despite the eerie name, there was a strange beauty to the ce. Fields of dark, twisted crops stretched as far as the eye could see, punctuated by the asional gnarled tree that looked older than time itself.

    As we were settling into our temporary digs, I overheard our Apollonia, Vivienne,ining about the heat. "It''s really hot in here..." she muttered, fanning herself dramatically.

    Vivienne was a curious case - half-human, half-demon, but you''d never know it to look at her.

    The only giveaway was her snake-like eyes, which were currently narrowed in difort. Well, that and the distinctly human air of superiority she seemed to wear like a second skin.

    Figuring it was time to address the elephant - or should I say, the scantily-d scene - in the room, I approached her. "You sure you''re ready for that one scene?" I asked, trying to sound casual and director-ly. "It will get, you know..."

    I trailed off, feeling an unexpected wave of shyness wash over me. How exactly does one tactfully bring up a scene involving toplessness and kissing? Especially when you''re an exiled demon prince turned novice filmmaker?

    But Vivienne, it seemed, had no such qualms. She fixed me with a look that could have melted steel and snorted. "Hmph. What do you take me for? A teenager? I can do that scene no problem."

    "Is that so?" I managed, a bit taken aback by her bravado.

    "Right!" she snapped. "Don''t act like an inexperienced kid."

    I felt my face heat up, and not just from the Ashen ins'' oppressive temperature. The sound of poorly suppressedughter from Rocky, George, and the rest of the crew didn''t help. Great. Nothing like losing face in front of your entire team.

    Trying to salvage some dignity, I puffed up my chest and shot back, "Hmph. Don''t cryter if you feel humiliated."

    As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Real professional, Arthur. Real smooth.

    Vivienne just rolled her eyes and sauntered off, leaving me standing there feeling like I''d just lost a battle I didn''t even know I was fighting.

    George ambled over, a grin ying at the corners of his mouth. "Smooth, boss. Real smooth."

    I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Not my finest moment, huh?"

    He chuckled, pping me on the shoulder. "Look at it this way - if you can direct half as well as you can put your foot in your mouth, we might just have a hit on our hands."

    ***

    After our little meet-and-greet with the local heat and Vivienne''s confidence, we finally settled into our temporary home. The house was spacious... or at least, it would have been if we weren''t packed in like sardines in a demonic tin can.

    "Hope you''re allfortable with close quarters. We''re bunking together to save on the budget." I said, surveying our cramped quarters.

    George looked around, his eyes wide. "Boss, are you sure this is legal? Pretty sure there arews against this many demons in one space."

    I shrugged. "Probably. But hey, think of it as method acting. We''re all exiles in this ce, remember?"

    The groans that followed were probably audible back in Fend City.

    We managed to squeeze in about four hours of sleep before the unholy screeching of a Cursed Chicken jolted us awake. If you''ve never heard a Cursed Chicken at dawn, count yourself lucky. Imagine a banshee withryngitis gargling razor des, and you''re halfway there.

    "What in the nine hells is that?" Rocky grumbled, his hair sticking up in all directions.

    "Our wake-up call," I replied, trying to sound chipper and probably failing miserably. "Rise and shine, everyone! Time to make a movie!"

    The bleary-eyed res I received in response could have curdled milk.

    We stumbled our way to the nearby market, a colorful array of demon vendors hawking everything from eyeball soup to cursed amulets. I steered us towards the cheapest restaurant I could find - a dingy little ce that promised "Food that won''t kill you (probably)" in flickering neon.

    As we huddled around a table that had definitely seen better centuries, slurping down something that might have been coffee in a past life, I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of guilt. This wasn''t exactly the morous filmmaking experience I''m sure everyone had signed up for.

    "Look, I know this isn''t ideal," I said, addressing my tired and slightly nauseous-looking crew. "But we''re making history here. The first demon mob movie shot on location in Ashen ins!"

    Vivienne raised an eyebrow. "You mean the first demon mob movie shot in a ce we''re pretending is Sicily because we couldn''t afford to go to the real thing?"

    I pointed my fork at her. "Exactly! That''s the spirit!"

    We finished our questionable breakfast and headed out to start our first day of filming.

 Chapter 17: Vivienne

    <h4>Chapter 17: Vivienne</h4>

    Alright, showtime. Our first order of business was to film in the grasnds and farms, capturing Michael''s introduction to his new "Sicilian" home.

    To add that authentic touch, we''d recruited some local demons to y tour guides. It hadn''t been hard - just wave the promise of being in a movie in front of some desperate low-level demons, and suddenly everyone''s Marlon Brando.

    As we set up the shot, I couldn''t help but marvel at how eager our impromptu actors were. They fawned over me like I was still royalty, not some exiled prince turned wannabe filmmaker. But hey, if it worked for the scene, I wasn''tining.

    "And action!" I called, slipping into Michael''s skin as easily as putting on a well-worn coat.

    The local demons stepped up, showing me around with a gusto that would make any real tour guide jealous. I nodded along, ying the part of the wide-eyed neer, when suddenly - there she was.

    Vivienne, or rather Apollonia, stood in the distance, a vision of shy beauty that was so at odds with her real personality that for a moment, I forgot I was acting.

    Our eyes met across the field, and I felt a jolt that wasn''t entirely put on for the camera.

    The moment stretched, electric and charged, until Apollonia''s friends pushed her along, breaking the spell. She nodded and left, leaving me - Michael - standing there, slightly dazed.

    "Who is that?" I asked, turning to my demon guides.

    One of them, really getting into his role, replied, "That? That''s Apollonia. She''s the daughter of the caf¨¦ owner."

    I nodded, impressed by theirmitment to the scene. But then, the other demon decided to go off-script, adding his own little flourish.

    "Careful," he stage-whispered, his face a mask of gossipy concern. "Apollonia might be as beautiful as a subus, but she''s half-human, half-demon. Got that cunning blood of the humans in her."

    I had to bite my tongue to keep fromughing. The demon''s casual discrimination against humans was so perfectly in character for our world that I couldn''t have written it better myself.

    "Cut!" I called, breaking character. "That was... surprisingly good, guys. Really nailed the local color there."

    Our impromptu actors beamed with pride, while the rest of the crew looked on in a mix of amusement and surprise.

    "Boss," George whispered, sidling up to me, "did you tell them to say thatst bit?"

    I shook my head, grinning. "Nope. Seems we''ve got some natural talent on our hands. Or at least, some natural prejudices that work great for the film."

    ***

    The days blurred together in a whirlwind of filming, each scene bringing its own set of surprises.

    When it came time to shoot Michael''s meeting with Apollonia''s father, we struck gold again with our local talent. The actual owner of a caf¨¦ in Ashen ins stepped into the role, and boy, did he step up.

    The scene was supposed to be tense, sure, but this guy took it to a whole new level. He red at me with such intensity that I almost forgot I was acting. When I called "Cut!" and asked him about it, his response caught me off guard.

    "I''ve got a daughter of my own," he grunted, his eyes narrowing. "Wouldn''t just hand her over to some smooth-talking outsider, powerful family or not."

    I nodded, trying not to show my skepticism. Part of me wondered if he was still in character or if this was some deep-seated paternal instinct bubbling to the surface. Either way, it made for great cinema, so I wasn''t about toin.

    The wedding scenes were next on our list, and let me tell you, trying to stage avish wedding on our shoestring budget was like trying to throw a royal ball in a broom closet.

    Creative solutions were the name of the game.

    We ended up buying the wedding dress and suit from a recently married couple in Ashen ins. The bride''s dress was a bit singed at the hem (hazard of demon weddings, I suppose), and the groom''s suit had seen better days, but with a little demonic tailoring and a lot of camera angles, we made it work.

    The local demons, bless their infernal hearts, were more than happy to y extras. They showed up in droves, eager for their chance at demon stardom.

    We filmed under the scorching sun, with sweat dripping down our backs and makeup melting faster than we could apply it.

    Then came the scene I''d been both anticipating and dreading - the intimate moment between Michael and Apollonia. We''d cleared out most of the crew, leaving just me, Vivienne, and one very ufortable-looking cameraman in a quiet room.

    I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. This wasn''t just acting anymore - this was my first on-screen kiss, and if I''m being honest, my first kiss in this life, period. I snuck a nce at Vivienne. At 18, she was two years my senior and, objectively speaking, stunning. Not that I''d ever admit that out loud.

    "Hey," Vivienne''s voice cut through my thoughts. "You look nervous for an exiled prince and director of this project." She smirked. "When are we gonna film? I feel my throat drying from waiting."

    I bristled at her tone. "Just shut up. I''m preparing for the role."

    "Heh. Right," she snorted, but I caught a flicker of something in her eyes. Nervousness, maybe?

    Gritting my teeth, I nodded to the cameraman. "Alright, let''s begin." I took a deep breath. "Action!"

    We fell into character, our eyes locking. The air seemed to thicken as we moved closer. Just before our lips met, I noticed a slight tremor in Vivienne''s hand. ''Not so tough now, are we?'' I thought, feeling a mix of triumph and sympathy.

    Then, pushing all thoughts aside, I leaned in and kissed her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, I worried I''d messed up. But then she rxed into the kiss, and suddenly, I forgot all about the camera, the script, everything.

    The scene progressed, growing more intense. Clothes were discarded, hands wandered. It was all very tastefully done, of course - we were making art, not a scandal. But even so, I couldn''t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us.

    As we finished the scene, I called "Cut!" in a voice that was embarrassingly breathless. Vivienne immediately pulled away, grabbing her clothes and bolting from the room without a word.

    I turned to the cameraman, bewildered. "What happened to her?"

    He just shrugged, looking as confused as I felt.

    As I left the room, my mind was reeling. What just happened? Was it all just really good acting, or was there something more? And why did I care so much?

    One thing was for sure - making movies was a lot moreplicated than I''d thought. And we still had half a film to go.

    ***

    The day after our... intense scene, we moved on to one of the most pivotal moments in the film - Apollonia''s tragic demise.

    In the story timeline, Michael and Apollonia had been blissfully married for a while, with a little one on the way. It was the kind of happiness that, in movies like ours, neversts.

    As we set up the shot, I found myself oddly mncholic. Maybe it was theck of sleep, or maybe that kiss had affected me more than I cared to admit.

    "ces, everyone!" I called out, pushing my personal feelings aside. We had a movie to make, after all. "Action!"

    Vivienne and I took our positions. We shared a tender kiss - nothing like the passion of yesterday''s scene, but somehow more intimate. As she pulled away and headed towards the car, I felt a genuine pang of loss.

    I watched Vivienne - Apollonia - walk away, waving with a smile that didn''t quite reach her eyes. Was she still thinking about yesterday too?

    Shaking off the thought, I reached out, channeling Michael''s sudden premonition of danger. "Apollonia, wait!" I called out, my voice cracking with an emotion I wasn''t entirely faking.

    Then came the ''explosion'' - courtesy of an expensive one-time illusion spell contained in a rune paper. It wasn''t perfect - anyone watching in person would easily spot the fakery - but for film purposes, it would do the trick.

    As the illusory mes engulfed the car, I let out a cry of anguish that was part Michael, part Arthur. It was over. Both the scene, and Vivienne''s part in our film.

 Chapter 18: Filming an iconic scene

    <h4>Chapter 18: Filming an iconic scene</h4>

    After calling "Cut!" on Apollonia''s tragic demise, I made my way over to Vivienne. She seemed to be avoiding eye contact, but I pressed on, determined to clear the air.

    "You''re quite a good actress," I said, trying to sound casual. "I can see you''re passionate about your career. I admire that."

    "Thanks," she replied with a small smile. "You''re unexpectedly great at acting too."

    I chuckled inwardly. ''Unexpectedly''? She wasn''t wrong - I was as shocked as anyone by my newfound acting chops.

    "Well, I hope you had fun acting in my film," I said, extending my hand. "Hope to work with you in the future."

    She shook my hand, her grip firm. "I''d have had more fun if you weren''t using your position as director to take advantage of me," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.

    Iughed, relieved we were back to our usual banter. "Take advantage of you? If anything, I think I''m the one being taken advan¡ª"

    She cut me off with a light punch to the shoulder. "Ow! Okay, okay. Maybe I''m not a good director after all. I''m a bad demon, remember?"

    Once ourughter died down, I couldn''t help but ask, "By the way, why did you suddenly run away from the room yesterday?"

    Her smile faded, reced by a guarded expression. "Hmph. That''s none of your business, Your Highness," she said sarcastically, turning to walk away.

    I scratched the back of my head, watching her go. Working with an actress like her had definitely been... an experience.

    As we packed up and headed back to Fend City, I couldn''t help but feel relieved that our time in Ashen ins had gone smoothly. The Asmodeus family hadn''t interfered - a small miracle in itself.

    Hourster, we were back in the familiar chaos of Fend City.

    As the crew dispersed and the actors said their goodbyes, I found myself lingering, watching Vivienne disappear into the crowd.

    Me and my team went our separate ways to rest.

    ***

    The next few days flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Despite our collective inexperience in filmmaking, we were starting to find our rhythm. Each scene we shot felt a little smoother, a little more natural. It was like watching a bunch of fledgling demons learn to fly - awkward at first, but gradually gaining confidence.

    "You know," George remarked one day as we wrapped a particrlyplex scene, "I think we might actually be getting good at this."

    I grinned, pping him on the shoulder. "Don''t jinx it, my friend. We''ve still got a long way to go."

    Then came the big one - the death of Don Vito Corleone. Rocky outdid himself, his performance so moving that I almost forgot he was the same guy who used to sell me tickets at the theater.

    After that, we moved on to the funeral scene at "Hades," our stand-in for a demon graveyard.

    It was a somber affair, at least on camera. Off-camera, it was more like a circus, with extras tripping over headstones and our makeup artist chasing after demons whose horns kept poking through their wigs.

    The four family heads gathered to pay their respects, each one a character straight out of a demon''s fever dream. I''d cast powerful, intelligent-looking demons for these roles, but Don Barzini was something special. The wolf demon we''d snagged for the part looked like he''d stepped right out of a nightmare, with piercing eyes, pointed ears, and a tail that seemed to have a mind of its own.

    As we rolled camera, I was blown away by the performances.

    These "rock bottom" actors were pouring their hearts out, their faces a masterss in subtle emotion. They sympathized with Michael on the surface, all sad eyes andforting pats on the shoulder. But underneath, you could see the gleam of satisfaction in their eyes, the barely concealed joy at the Corleone family''s misfortune.

    "Cut!" I called, feeling a surge of pride. "That was... that was incredible, everyone."

    Rocky sidled up to me, still in his Don Vito makeup despite being very much dead in the scene. "Not bad for a bunch of demon rejects, huh?"

    I nodded, watching as our wolf-demon Don Barzini chatted amiably with the other family heads, his tail wagging slightly.

    ***

    With Don Vitoid to rest, we jumped forward in our story timeline. ''Weeks'' had passed since the funeral, and it was time for one of the most iconic scenes in the film - the baptism.

    Our location? A Srus Church right in the heart of the Gloomstone District.

    The irony wasn''t lost on me. A human god''s church in a demon city? If you''d told me about this in my previous life, I''d haveughed you out of the room. But here, in this world? It was just another Tuesday.

    Srus, the human Sun God, had quite the following, even among demons, though it was a minority.

    It was a fact that still boggled my mind sometimes.

    This divine poprity had led to a subset of demons bing more... well, tame isn''t quite the right word, but let''s go with "less prone to spontaneous acts of chaos and destruction."

    Sure, the majority of demons might look down their noses (or snouts, or whatever) at these Srus-worshipping minorities, but you couldn''t deny the power the human god held.

    It was like watching a bunch of cats suddenly decide to follow the ways of a particrly charismatic dog - unexpected, but undeniably intriguing.

    Using a scene where a demon family like the Corleones gets baptized in a Srus church wasn''t just eptable - it was rtable. I could already imagine demons across the kingdom nodding along, seeing a bit of themselves or their neighbors in our fictional family.

    Of course, in the world of our film, things were a bit different. The Corleones and the other families existed in a version of Empirica that was a melting pot of races, not the human-dominated powerhouse it was in reality. We''d taken some creative liberties with ce names too, crafting a world that was familiar yet distinctly our own.

    We arrived at the church, a surprisingly grand affair for a demon district. The demon priest, an actual man of the cloth (or whatever the demonic equivalent is), had agreed to let us use the ce for filming. Apparently, having film crews in churches wasn''t all that unusual. Who knew?

    I couldn''t help but chuckle to myself, though. If this priest had any idea what we were about to film - Michael denying the evil in his heart while simultaneously ordering a series of brutal assassinations - well, let''s just say we might have found ourselves looking for a new location.

    As my crew bustled around, setting up lights and cameras, I watched the demon baby who''d be ying Michael''s godchild. The little tyke was gurgling happily, blissfully unaware of the pivotal role it was about to y in our demonic drama.

    The priest approached me, his face solemn. "Do you reject the forces of evil and darkness?" he intoned, clearly expecting me to repeat after him.

    I nodded, fighting to keep a straight face. If only he knew.

    We breezed through the church scene, the contrast between the holy setting and what we were actually filming giving me a perverse thrill.

    Then it was on to the real meat of the sequence - the assassination of the four family heads.

    By the time we wrapped for the day, everyone was exhausted but buzzing with excitement. We were in the home stretch now, the end of filming finally in sight.

    Later that night, I found myself alone in the studio as usual.

    As I began editing the baptism scene, intercut with the brutal assassinations, I felt a surge of excitement. This was it - the moment where everything came together, where Michael''s transformation from reluctant outsider to cold-blooded Don wasplete.

    Watching the footage, seeing myself swear to reject evil while images of violence shed across the screen, I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of... something. Pride? Guilt? Maybe a bit of both.

    I shook off the feeling. This was art, after all. And if it made people ufortable, well, that was kind of the point, wasn''t it?

    As I continued to workte into the night, piecing together our demonic masterpiece, I couldn''t help but wonder what people would think when they finally saw it. Would they understand what we were trying to say? Would they see past the horns and tails to the universal story underneath?

    Only time would tell. But one thing was for sure - the Demonfather was almost ready to make his debut. And demon world or human world, nobody was going to know what hit them.

 Chapter 19: Filming wrapped up

    <h4>Chapter 19: Filming wrapped up</h4>

    Morning came way too early after a night of intense editing, but I dragged myself out of bed to meet the team. We had a movie to finish, after all.

    Hours of filmingter, we were finally at thest scene - the big confrontation between Michael and Kay at the Shadow Estate. As I looked around the study, watching the crew make their final preparations, I felt a mix of exhaustion and excitement. This was it.

    I nodded to start rolling, and Firfel jumped right into character as Kay.

    "Michael, is it true?" she demanded, her voice trembling with worry and anger.

    I took a drag from my cigarette, channeling all of Michael''s newfound coldness. "Don''t ask me about my business, Kay."

    Firfel''s voice rose, her elven tones making even her anger sound musical. "Is it true?!"

    I matched her intensity, jabbing my finger for emphasis. "Don''t ask me about my business!"

    "No!" Firfel cried, every inch the distraught wife.

    And then... something shifted. I felt a strange heat in my eyes as I said, "Enough." The word came out calm, but there was an icy edge to it that surprised even me.

    I waited for Firfel to call me out on my weird delivery, but she just stared at me, wide-eyed. Assuming she was deep in character, I pressed on.

    "Alright... This one time," I said, my voice low. "This one time, you can ask me about my affairs."

    Firfel''s face was a mask of conflicting emotions, she was quiet for a few seconds as she asked, "Did you?"

    I looked her straight in the eye, shaking my head slightly. "No..."

    The tension held for a moment before Firfel''s face softened. She approached me, and we embraced. I kissed her cheek, trying desperately to stay in character and not think about how nice she smelled.

    As soon as I called cut, I bolted for the projector, eager to review the scene and hide my embarrassment.

    "When I said ''enough,'' did I not look the part?" I asked Firfel, worried I''d messed up the crucial moment. "Was it bad?"

    Firfel looked at me like I''d grown a second head. "Bad? It was actually good. You said ''Enough'' so coldly it gave me chills."

    Iughed, not buying it. "You''re joking."

    "It''s true, boss," Klein chimed in. "I even saw your eyes change color."

    Now it was my turn to look confused. "My eyes changed color?"

    "Yeah, from golden to scarlet," another crew member added. "It was terrifying."

    "Really?" I raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

    Firfel looked thoughtful. "I thought you did it on purpose. It''s rare to see a royal demon eyes transform like that. It''s a sign of great power, but..." She trailed off, giving me a look that clearly said, ''But you''re you, so...''

    I chuckled inwardly. Yeah, I got it. Trashy prince and all that.

    "Maybe your eyes changed because of your emotion as Michael?" Firfel suggested.

    "Maybe," I said, not entirely convinced.

    As the crew bustled around, preparing to review the footage, I couldn''t shake a nagging feeling. Had I really tapped into something deeper for that scene? And if I had... what did that mean?

    We huddled around the projector, and sure enough, there it was. Right after I said "Enough," my eyes shifted from their usual golden hue to a deep, unsettling scarlet. It was like watching a spark catch fire, bringing a chill to the room despite the heat in my gaze.

    I didn''t understand how or why my eyes had changed, but I wasn''t about to look a gift demon horse in the mouth. This unexpected transformation captured Michael''s inner turmoil perfectly. Sometimes, dumb luck is the best director.

    "Well," I said, trying to sound nonchnt, "I guess we don''t need to reshoot that one."

    The crew murmured in agreement, still looking at me like I might spontaneouslybust at any moment. Great.

    We quickly set up for the final shot. Firfel, as Kay, left the room after our embrace. The camera followed her, capturing the moment she turned back to see Michael''s men approaching him, kissing his ring in a show of loyalty. The door swung shut, leaving Kay - and the future audience - on the outside looking in.

    "And... cut!" I called out, my voice barely above a whisper.

    For a moment, nobody moved. It was like we were all holding our breath, afraid to break the spell.

    Then it hit me. We''d done it. The Demonfather wasplete.

    "That''s a wrap, everyone," I said, my voice cracking slightly. "We... we actually did it."

    The studio erupted into cheers and apuse. Crew members were hugging each other, some even crying (though they''d probably me it on some errant hellfire smoke if you asked).

    ***

    As the euphoria of wrapping up the film began to settle, it was time for goodbyes. We bid farewell to our main cast - the demons who''d brought Tom Hagen, Peter Clemenza, and the rest to life. It felt strange, like saying goodbye to family members we''d only just met.

    Firfel lingered behind, her eyes sparkling with an emotion I couldn''t quite ce. "You know," she said, a small smile ying on her lips, "when I first signed up for this role, I had no idea the script was written by a young prince of the Morningstar royal family. I thought it was just from some aspiring director with a wild imagination."

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Well, I''m not exactly a prince anymore. So yeah, you''re right - it dide from an aspiring director." I shrugged, trying to y it cool.

    Firfel shook her head, her expression turning serious. "No, seriously. When I found out it was you, I had my doubts. I loved the script, thought it was unique. But I was worried you''d ruin it."

    "Ouch," I said, clutching my chest in mock pain. "Tell me how you really feel, why don''t you?"

    She rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "Let me finish, you drama queen. What I''m trying to say is... you proved me wrong. You didn''t just do well, you did great."

    I raised an eyebrow, waiting for the punchline.

    "I mean it," she continued. "You''re actually really good at directing. Despite having such a small, inexperienced crew, you led them well. The way you handled the camera angles, the soundposition... it was beautifully done."

    I felt my face heating up, and for once, it wasn''t because my eyes were doing that weird color-changing thing. "Thanks," I mumbled, suddenly finding my shoes very interesting.

    Inside, I wasughing. If only she knew that I''d basically stolen every camera angle and sound cue from the movie in my previous life. Thank hell for crystal-clear past-life memories, right?

    ***

    With thest echoes of "that''s a wrap" fading away, we dove headfirst into the next challenge: editing. The studio, which had been a whirlwind of activity during filming, now became a different kind of chaos. Reels of film covered every surface, and the air hummed with the constant whir of projectors and splicers.

    My team and I were putting in overtime, fueled by a mix of determination and whatever passed for coffee in the demon world. We''d poured our souls into this film for weeks, and now it was time to shape it into something coherent. No pressure, right?

    "Alright, people," I called out, my voice slightly hoarse from too manyte nights and not enough sleep. "Let''s make this edit as tight as a miser''s purse. We''ve got to be good and we''ve got to be quick. The Fend Demon Film Festival is breathing down our necks, and we can''t afford to miss it."

    A chorus of "Got it, boss" echoed around the room, punctuated by the snipping of film and the asional curse as someone inevitably nicked a finger.

    Then, from the corner, came a gruff voice that could only belong to Rocky. "Why am I editing here? I thought I was only an actor?"

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "It''s your fault for boasting so much about your film editing skills a few days ago. Consider this your audition for a new career."

    Rocky grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "smart-ass kid," but I saw the glimmer of a smile on his face as he bent over a reel of film.

    As we worked, I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of anxiety. Each frame of film was precious - and expensive. We''d been careful during filming, but now every cut felt like a life-or-death decision. One wrong snip and we could lose a crucial moment, a perfect expression, a bit of magic we''d never be able to recreate.

    "Hey, boss," George called out, holding up a strip of film. "Remember when your eyes did that weird color-change thing? Should we, uh, edit that out?"

    I paused, considering. That moment had been unintentional, unexpected... and absolutely perfect for Michael''s character arc.

    "Leave it in," I decided. "Sometimes the best bits of movies are the idents."

 Chapter 20: Ferland Demon Film Festival

    <h4>Chapter 20: Fend Demon Film Festival</h4>

    Weeks of filming followed by two solid weeks of editing had left us all looking like we''d been dragged through the nine circles of hell. And now, with the Fend Demon Film Festival (FDFF) looming just two days away, we were running on fumes and whatever passed for coffee in the demon realm.

    As the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the end of our marathon editing session, a cheer erupted in the studio. We''d done it. Three hours of demonic cinematic glory, ready for the world to see.

    The team hugged each other, exhausted but ted. I couldn''t help but overhear their tired mumblings:

    "Sob, I thought our suffering finally ended when we finished filming. Turns out editing is much worse."

    "You''re right. It was so tiring."

    "I kind of miss doing makeup for the cast."

    "Now it''splete, I''m d."

    I had to bite back augh. If only they knew this was just the beginning.

    After bidding farewell to my weary crew, I crashed hard, sleeping like the dead (which, in demon terms, is pretty impressive). I woke up at 10:00 PM, feeling like I''d been hit by a hellhound.

    The studio was eerily quiet. Seems like the rest of the crew was either still in bed or just dragging themselves back to consciousness. It wasn''t until 1:00 PM that everyone had finally trickled in, looking like they''d been through a war.

    "Alright, guys," I said, once everyone was assembled. "Now that we''vepleted the filming and editing, it''s time for the moment of truth. We''re going to review the whole film."

    A buzz of excitement ran through the group. Amazing how quickly exhaustion can turn to enthusiasm when there''s a chance to see the fruits of yourbor.

    As we settled in to watch, I couldn''t help but sneak nces at my team. Their expressions ranged from disbelief to awe as the film unfolded.

    "We did... We did this film?" I heard someone whisper.

    "I know, right? We''re only two hours in, and it''s so good."

    I chuckled to myself. They probably thought we''d end up with something passably average. After all, what else could you expect from a bunch of inexperienced misfits led by an exiled prince who hadn''t even finished high school?

    But as the film yed on, I felt a swell of pride. We''d done it. Against all odds, we''d created something... well, something pretty damn good.

    "Well," I said as the credits rolled, "I guess we didn''tpletely mess it up, huh?"

    The studio erupted in cheers andughter. Rocky pped me on the back, nearly knocking me over. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."

    As the excitement died down, reality set in. We had a film. A good film, even. But now came the real challenge - getting people to watch it.

    ***

    With our film finallyplete, it was time for the moment of truth: submitting it to the festival. I found myself in the lobby of the FDFF headquarters, surrounded by a sea of hopeful filmmakers, each clutching their precious reels like lifelines.

    The moment I walked in, all eyes turned to me. I could practically hear their thoughts: "Look, it''s the exiled prince. What''s he doing here?" Their stares ranged from curious to outright hostile. Great. Just what I needed - more pressure.

    I approached the submission desk, where a bored-looking demon sat, his horns curled around a pair of reading sses. His name tag read "Brimstone, Film Intake Coordinator."

    "Name and film title?" he drawled, not bothering to look up.

    "Arthur Morningstar," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "The film is called ''The Demonfather''."

    At that, Brimstone''s head snapped up, his eyes widening in recognition. "Morningstar? As in the exiled prince?"

    I nodded, bracing myself for rejection.

    To my surprise, a slow grin spread across Brimstone''s face. "Well, well. This ought to be interesting. Alright, Your Ex-Highness, let''s see what you''ve got."

    I handed over our film reels, each one feeling like it weighed a ton. Brimstone hefted them, raising an eyebrow.

    "Three hours, huh? Ambitious."

    As he started filling out the paperwork, I couldn''t shake the feeling that this was too easy. "Don''t you need to review it first?" I asked, immediately regretting opening my mouth.

    Brimstone chuckled. "Kid, half the fun of this festival is seeing what kind of train wrecks make it through. And a movie made by an exiled prince? That''s too good to pass up."

    I wasn''t sure whether to be relieved or offended. But hey, we were in. That''s what mattered, right?

    As I turned to leave, paperwork in hand, Brimstone called out, "Hey, Morningstar!"

    I looked back.

    "Break a leg," he said, then added with a wink, "Or a horn. Whatever works for you demons."

    As I walked out of the lobby, past the staring crowd of fellow filmmakers, I couldn''t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. We''d cleared the first hurdle, but the real test was yet toe.

    ***

    Two days flew by in a blur of anxiety andst-minute preparations. Before we knew it, the Fend Demon Film Festival was in full swing, transforming the Indulgence District into a glittering spectacle of demonic mour.

    We found ourselves huddled at the edge of the red carpet, watching as a parade of demon celebrities arrived in vehicles that probably cost more than our entire production budget. The air crackled with excitement and the faint scent of brimstone.

    My crew, bless their demonic hearts, were absolutely losing it. Their professional demeanor vanished the moment the first star-studded limo pulled up.

    "Is that Lee from the Beelzebub acting family?! Lee!" George shouted, jumping up and down like an excited imp.

    One of our makeup artists, a young demoness named Lilith, practically swooned. "That''s Jonathan from the Lust Family!" Her eyes were so wide I was worried they might pop out of her head.

    "You like that guy?" Mara, another crew member, scoffed. "I don''t like him. I prefer Leonardo from the Jackson family!"

    "Hmph. Jonathan is way more handsome than your Leonardo," Lilith shot back.

    "At least he''s not a lustful guy like Jonathan."

    "That''s natural. He is from the Lust Family."

    "Heh. Heard he was having rtionships with both women and men."

    "That''s a lie!"

    I watched this exchange with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Here we were, about to premiere our film at one of the biggest events in the demon world, and my crew was gossiping like teenagers at a hellfire high school.

    "Guys," I tried to interject, "maybe we should focus on¡ª"

    "Oh my Satan!" Rocky''s voice boomed over the chatter. "Is that... is that Damien Darkme?!"

    I turned to see a towering demon with skin like polished obsidian step out of a car that seemed to be made of living shadows. The crowd went wild.

    "Who''s Damien Darkme?" I asked, immediately regretting the question as every single member of my crew turned to stare at me in horror.

    "Who''s Damien Darkme?" George repeated, sounding scandalized. "Only the biggest action star in the nine circles! How can you not know Damien Darkme?"

    I shrugged, feeling very much like the out-of-touch exiled prince I was. "Been a bit busy making a movie, remember?"

    As my crewunched into a detailed exnation of Damien Darkme''s filmography (apparently, he was famous for his catchphrase "Hell hath no fury like me"), I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of nervousness. We were small fry in a big, fiery pond.

    But then I remembered our film. The Demonfather. Ourbor of love, sweat, and probably a little too much ketchup. We might not have the mour or the star power, but we had heart. And in the movie business, sometimes that''s all you need.

    "Alright, team," I said, interrupting the Darkme debate. "Our time wille. For now, let''s just enjoy the show. And maybe try not to drool too obviously over the celebrities, okay?"

    Theyughed, the tension breaking a little.

 Chapter 21: The Demonfather

    <h4>Chapter 21: The Demonfather</h4>

    I couldn''t help but stare at Damien Darkme. The guy looked like he could be Brad Pitt''s demonic ancestor. It was uncanny.

    Truth be told, I''d never paid much attention to demon actors or films. Compared to the human movies, demon cinema felt...cking. Even the trashiest human films of this world outshone our demonic offerings. It was a hard truth, but there it was.

    As the celebrities preened and posed, fielding interviews and shing fangs for the cameras, the festival''s opening party kicked into high gear. That''s when I noticed them - humans, mingling among the demons. They weren''t just any humans, though. These were the big shots, the power yers of the global film industry.

    One of them, a human representative named Hughie Bear from a major film distributor, took the stage. The moment he opened his mouth, I knew we were in for a show.

    "I''m here today to watch demon films," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension, "to see if there''s anything worth screening in my country. Though I wouldn''t be surprised if there''s nothing to see."

    His human colleagues, along with a smattering of dwarves and elves, burst intoughter. The demons in the crowd, however, were a different story. They smiled and nodded, ying along, but I could see the difort in their eyes, the way their tails twitched with suppressed anger.

    I couldn''t me them. As a demon, hearing that kind of talk was humiliating. But it wasn''t anything new. We''d lost the war 400 years ago, and we''d been paying for it ever since. First, it was reparations for war damages. Now? We were just considered inferior.

    Part of me wanted to be outraged on behalf of my fellow demons. But another part - the part of me couldn''t help but agree with Hughie. Demon films did kind of suck.

    "Can you believe that guy?" George muttered, his tiny fists clenched in anger.

    I shrugged, trying to keep my voice neutral. "He''s not entirely wrong, you know."

    ***

    As the opening party wound down, the real meat of the festival began. The first film up was "Pure Subus," a production from the big guns at Demon Pictures. Being part of thepeting films ourselves, we scored free seats. Small victories, right?

    The director and cast gave their spiel, all smiles and false modesty. Then the lights dimmed, and we were off.

    I settled in, expecting another run-of-the-mill demon flick.

    The lead actress, a real subus ying a subus, was paired with a C-list human actor from Empirica. Their on-screen chemistry was surprisinglypelling. The story followed the subus as she fell in love and made the decision to change her ways, striving to be "pure" for her beloved.

    But when they moved to Empirica, things took a dark turn. The subus caught the eye of her lover''s father, leading to a disturbing subplot of secret abuse. The film didn''t shy away from the psychological toll this took on her.

    The real gut punch came when her lover, who had professed his undying love earlier, rejected her after learning about the situation with his father. The film didn''t spell it out, but the implication was clear - he med her, the victim, rather than standing by her.

    The ending was a punch to the gut. Our protagonist, broken and disillusioned, returned to her old life as a prostitute. It was a tragic finale that left the audience in stunned silence before the apuse began.

    As the credits rolled, I found myself pping along with the rest of the audience. I had to admit, I was impressed. This wasn''t just good "for a demon film" - it was genuinely good cinema. It tackledplex themes, didn''t shy away from difficult topics, and managed to evoke real emotion.

    "Well," I muttered to myself, "looks like demon cinema just upped its game."

    George, wiping a tear from his eye, nodded in agreement. "Boss, that was... wow. Just wow..."

    ***

    Our big day wasing. Tomorrow, "The Demonfather" would screen - the first colored film in the festival, maybe ever. Not that the higher-ups knew that. They''d epted us without so much as a peek at the reels. Their loss, our gain.

    Today was all about the major studio flicks. Tomorrow? That was our time to shine.

    I''d invited the whole cast to join us for the screening. As I arrived at the studio early the next morning, I was greeted by familiar faces. Firfel, Charles, Johnny - they were all there. And to my surprise, even the ever-arrogant Vivienne had deigned to show up.

    "Well, well," I said, unable to keep the grin off my face. "Look who decided to grace us with her presence."

    Vivienne rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile. "Don''t let it go to your head, Your Ex-Highness. I''m just here to see how badly you''ve butchered my performance."

    We made our way to the festival as a group, a rag-tag bunch of misfits ready to take on the demon film world. But as we approached the theater, we stopped short. There,rger than life, was our poster. "The Demonfather," it proimed in bold letters. And right below: "An Exiled Prince Film."

    I felt my stomach drop. This wasn''t how I wanted us to be known. But as I looked around, I realized it was having an effect. People were stopping, pointing, whispering.

    "Unbelievable," I overheard one demon say to another. "That trash actually made a film. I wonder if it''s as much of a disaster as the prince himself."

    Hispanion snickered. "Maybe we should watch it. You know, for augh."

    "Hehe, I''m interested," a third chimed in. "Could be fun to see how bad it is."

    I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Rocky, his face set in a determined scowl. "Don''t let ''em get to you, kid. They''ll be eating those words soon enough."

    I nodded, squaring my shoulders. "You''re right. Let theme. Let them expect the worst."

    Firfel stepped up beside me, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and determination. "And then we''ll blow their horns off."

    ***

    The moment arrived. Our ragtag group - me, my crew, and our cast - stepped onto the stage. I could feel the weight of every eye in the theater on us. Skepticism hung thick in the air, almost as palpable as the ever-present scent of brimstone.

    I cleared my throat, willing my voice not to shake. "As many of you know, this festival will be screening my first film. And many of you probably doubt this film of mine, but I assure you, you''ll be surprised."

    A voice from the audience cut through the silence. "Surprised? Yeah. We''ll be surprised at how bad it is."

    Laughter erupted, echoing off the walls. I felt my face heat up, but forced myself to keep smiling.

    "Bad?" I shot back, trying to keep my cool. "You''ll be eating your wordster. Not only is the story of my film a masterpiece, but it''s also in color!"

    Theughter died down, reced by a buzz of confusion. "Colored? You mean it''s not ck and white anymore?" someone asked.

    A human in the audience spoke up, his voiceced with disbelief. "That can''t be... Even in our country, no colored camera has been invented yet."

    The murmuring grew louder. I thought I''d scored a point, but then a demon''s snort cut through the chatter. "Who cares if it''s really in color? If it''s a trash film, it''s a trash film."

    "You''re right..." others agreed.

    I felt that familiar heat in my eyes, the same feeling I''d had when they changed color before. The urge to let loose, to show them all just how wrong they were, was almost overwhelming.

    But then I caught George and Rocky''s eyes. They gave me subtle nods, silent reminders to keep my cool. I took a deep breath, forcing the heat back down.

    "Well," I said, somehow managing to keep my voice steady, "I guess you''ll just have to see for yourselves. Enjoy the show."

    As we left the stage and the lights dimmed, I felt a mix of dread and anticipation. This was it. No more talk, no more promises. It was time for The Demonfather to speak for itself.

    The projector whirred to life, and suddenly, there it was. Our film,rger than life, in glorious color.

    I heard gasps from the audience as the first scenes unfolded. Even in the dim light, I could see jaws dropping, eyes widening.

    "Holy hellfire," I heard someone whisper. "It really is in color."

    As the familiar strains of our Banshee Sisters soundtrack filled the theater, I allowed myself a small smile. We''d gotten their attention. Now it was time to blow their minds.

 Chapter 22: Offer He Canâ€™t Refuse

    <h4>Chapter 22: Offer He Can''t Refuse</h4>

    As the dialogue between Amerigo and Don Vito unfolded on screen, I noticed the entire theater had fallen into a hushed silence. The audience was captivated.

    I couldn''t help but smirk inwardly. Sure, I could hear some murmurs about the colored film, but it was clear that the interest went beyond just the technical achievement. The opening dialogues itself had piqued their curiosity.

    This was a good sign. A very good sign. If the audience was this engaged, there was a real chance that The Demonfather could turn a profit. Even better, we might catch the eye of some film distributors willing to take a chance on us.

    After all, isn''t that what this festival is really about? It''s a chance for indie filmmakers like us to grab the attention of distributors who might be willing to take our film to a wider audience.

    As these thoughts raced through my mind, I forced myself to rx. It was time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of ourbor. We''d poured our hearts and souls into this film, and now it was time to let it speak for itself.

    I settled into my seat, confident that everything would fall into ce. Whatever happened next, we''d already achieved something remarkable. We''d made a film that had a theater full of skeptics sitting in rapt attention. Not bad for a bunch of demon misfits and one exiled prince.

    ***

    (Human??? POV)

    Well, isn''t this a turn of events? Interesting... and if I''m being honest, a tad infuriating. It was supposed to be another routine assignment - watch some subpar demon films, write a scathing review, and give our readers back home a goodugh.

    But this? A colored film? In a demon city, of all ces? It''s like expecting to find coal and stumbling upon a diamond.

    Let''s be clear - demons aren''t exactly known for their cinematic prowess.

    Compared to the dwarves'' technical marvels or the elves'' artistic masterpieces from their verdant cities, demon films have always been the punchline of industry jokes.

    Back in Angels City, eyebrows were raised when we critics announced our attendance. "Why bother?" they asked. But we knew the game. We came for one simple, deliciously cynical reason: everyone loves a good failure story, especially when it''s about demons.

    It''s a tried-and-true form. We cover their fumbling attempts at art, their technological mishaps, their societal quirks. Our readers eat it up, reveling in the sense of superiority it provides. It''s not pretty, but it sells papers and keeps the clicksing.

    After all, demons, bless their little horned heads, are a gold mine of ws and struggles. In a world where every other race seems to be sprinting ahead, they''re the ones tripping over their own tails. It makes for great copy.

    So here we were, pens sharpened and ready to eviscerate another year of demon "cinema." My fellow humans back home were salivating for tales of cinematic disasters.

    But then... this year''s demon festival is certainly exceptional.

    "Pure Subus" wasn''t half bad. Unusual, I thought. A fluke, surely.

    And now this. In the grand Crimson Theatre, we''re witnessing not just a passable film, but a technological leap forward. A colored film, for hell''s sake!

    I hate to admit it, but as the opening scenes unfold, I find myself being pulled into the world of this film.

    The soundtrack, the dialogue, the color - it''s all working together in a way I never expected from a demon production. A demon coloured film I''d written off as trash before it even began is nowmanding my full attention.

    There are some confusing elements at first - mentions of "Empirica" and other ambiguous terms. But thenes the narration, clearly the voice of that exiled prince, Arthur. He''s trying to sound elegant, but there''s no mistaking that youthful timbre.

    "This is the story of the rise and fall of a family, who lives in Empirica, a human nation that housed mixed races, demons, dwarves and of course, humans," he begins. "This country was once a human race dominant only nation, it means, only humans is getting the rights while other races wasn''t getting any¡ª butter, with thews passed, races begun to file in, and races are allowed to have their own business, properties, and especially, rights."

    It''s a clever framing device, providing context for this fictional world. I can see my fellow Empiricans in the audience nodding along, understanding that this is just fiction, much like how we humans have fictionalized demon kingdoms.

    The narration continues as the wedding party scene unfolds. Arthur''s voice takes on a more ominous tone: "After the races gains their own rights in the nation of Empirica ¡ª other races such as dwarves, elves, begun to thrive, yet they couldn''tpare to the one race that thrives the most."

    There''s a pause,den with anticipation. "The Demon race," Arthur intones.

    I feel an involuntary chill at those words. The effect is immediate and powerful, especially as we then see Don Vito Corleone, every inch the powerful demon in an expensive suit, greeting his guests.

    "Don Barzini. Wee," Corleone says, his voice a low rumble.

    "Don Corleone," replies Don Barzini, a wolf demon who kisses Vito''s ring with a mix of respect and wariness.

    As the film progresses, I can''t help but notice how the demon characters, particrly Don Corleone and Don Barzini, exude an aura of power and authority that''s almost palpable. It''s unsettling, to say the least.

    Then, unexpectedly, Arthur Morningstar himself appears on screen. The exiled prince, not content with merely directing, has cast himself in his own film.

    "Hehe. He appears in his own film? This doesn''t bode well for the story," the dwarf beside me remarks loudly.

    I find myself nodding in agreement. If Arthur is ying a significant character - and his acting turns out to be subpar - it could derail the entire production.

    As the film opening scenes progressed, it bes clear that Michael is a significant character to the story. This realization sends a ripple of anticipation - and not the good kind - through the audience.

    Like the others, I''m half-expecting the film to take a nosedive. Directing is challenging enough, but to act in a major role simultaneously? It''s a recipe for disaster. Arthur''s split focus could easilypromise both his performance and his direction.

    I sigh, feeling a mix of disappointment and... is that relief? If the film turns out to be a flop, it would align with our usual narrative about demon ipetence. It would be easier to write about, more in line with what our readers expect.

    Still, a part of me can''t help but think - even if it''s bad, it''s the first colored demon film. That alone will make it a talking point, right?

    As the film progresses, I find my initial assumptions being thoroughly upended.

    We all thought Arthur''s self-importance would lead him to make his character, Michael, the focal point - a vanity project destined to ruin what could have been a promising story. But we couldn''t have been more wrong.

    Contrary to our expectations, the film doesn''t revolve around Michael at all. There''s no constant narration from Arthur like earlier, no spotlight-hogging scenes. Instead, we''re drawn into the intricate web of a family''s story, with Don Corleone at its center.

    And speaking of Don Corleone, the scene unfolding before us sends another chill down my spine, more intense than before.

    Johnny Fontane, clearly distressed, buries his face in his hands. "I don''t know what to do," hements.

    Don Vito''s reaction is swift and harsh. He barks at Johnny, pping him across the face. "Act like a man!"

    The Don even mocks Johnny''s whining, imitating his "I don''t know what to do" in a pitiful voice, while Tom Hagenughs in the background. It''s a disy of raw power and contempt that leaves me feeling unsettled.

    But it''s Don Vito''s next words that truly give me goosebumps: "I''m gonna make him an offer he can''t refuse."

    The way the actor delivers this line... it''s chilling in its calm assurance. There''s a weight to his words, a promise of action that''s both reassuring and terrifying.

 Chapter 23: Masterpiece of a scene

    <h4>Chapter 23: Masterpiece of a scene</h4>

    (Arthur''s POV)

    I can''t help but feel a surge of satisfaction as I watch the audience being pulled into my film''s story. The scene where the human director wakes up to find his favorite unicorn''s head in his bed is ying out, and the reaction is everything I''d hoped for.

    The director''s shriek echoes through the theater. "Ahh!!!" His hands and clothes are covered in blood, adding to the horror of the moment.

    I hear whispers from the audience around me:

    "That''s very horrible..."

    "I couldn''t even imagine my favourite pet''s head on my bed bleeding..."

    "That is such a lowly thing to do..."

    A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. They''re discussing the story, debating the methods of the Corleone family. Whether they approve or not doesn''t matter - they''re engaged. The plot has captured their attention, just as I''d intended.

    ***

    (Major Pictures CEO??? POV)

    Okay, I''ll admit it. As a human, I came here expecting a trashy demon film. What I''m watching instead is not just good - it''s remarkable.

    Sure, the film isn''t over yet, so I can''t make a final judgment. But so far? It''s doing a hell of a job keeping me - and probably everyone else - entertained.

    And let me tell you, keeping me entertained by a demon film for 30 minutes is a miracle in itself.

    Even "Pure Subus," from that major demon studio, couldn''t hold my interest for more than ten minutes, despite its surprising premise.

    But this? A film made by an infamous, supposedly trashy demon prince of history? And I''m actually invested in the story? It''s nothing short of miraculous.

    As I watch the shocking scene with the unicorn head unfold, I find myself genuinely affected. The gasps and murmurs around me confirm I''m not alone.

    Well, well. Looks like this little excursion to the so-called "trashy" demon film festival wasn''t a waste of time after all.

    As the CEO of the major film distributor in Southern Archipgo, I''m starting to see some real potential here. This "Demonfather" might just be worth picking up.

    The story unfolds before me, and I find myself unexpectedly still engrossed. There''s a scene where Connie, daughter of the oh-so-powerful Don Corleone, is being abused by her half-demon, half-human husband, Carlo. It''s brutal, ufortable, and... surprisingly nuanced.

    Connie, bless her demonic heart, keeps it all from her family.

    It''s a clever bit of storytelling, really. Shows us that the Corleones, for all their supposed power and influence, aren''t as untouchable as we were led to believe. Carlo''s contempt for the family is palpable. I''m starting to seeyers here.

    I munch on my popcorn, finding myself more invested with each passing scene. The pacing is spot-on, I''ll give them that.

    Thenes the assassination attempt on Don Corleone. The old vampire''s buying oranges, of all things, when bang! He''s down.

    The theater erupts in gasps and chatter.

    "Is that powerful guy about to die with just that gun that only had basic magic?" someone asks incredulously.

    Another voice chimes in, "He is old. Looking he is a vampire, he is probably already hundreds of years old - so it''s understandable."

    Fair points, both. But then someone raises a question that''s been nagging at me too:

    "Isn''t the Corleone a rich and powerful family? Why is the Don not wearing magical protection for something like that?"

    "Well, maybe the Don and the Corleone family is very confident that no one will attack them. That took them by surprise. And besides, with the Don seemingly a powerful old demon, he must have survived that attack,"es the reply.

    "Oh... That makes sense..."

    Does it, though? I''m not entirely convinced. Why such a sloppy assassination attempt? Why such useless guards? But you know what? I''m too engrossed to care about these nitpicks right now.

    Truth be told, even if this film ends up disappointing me in its final act, I''m already set on acquiring the distribution rights for Southern Archipgo. It''s slightly wed, sure, but it''s alsopelling in a way I never expected from a demon production.

    Time slips away unnoticed as I''mpletely absorbed in the film, absentmindedly munching on popcorn and sipping my drink.

    The scene where Michael visits his unguarded father at the hospital grabs my attention. It quickly esctes into an intense sequence that has my heart racing. Michael''s frantic call to Sonny, followed by the hurried transfer of the Don to another room, is riveting.

    A dwarf nearby can''t contain his excitement. "Oh ho, this scene is getting intense. I bet there''s about to be some serious action!"

    His outburst is met with a chorus of angry "Shh!"s from the audience. I smirk as he shrinks back in his seat. Serves him right for breaking the tension.

    The scene continues to build as Michael stands guard at the door. The sound of approaching footsteps has me on the edge of my seat. Is it an assassining to finish the job?

    But no, it''s just Enzo, a civilian demon paying his respects to the Don.

    A collective sigh of relief echoes through the theater, but the tension isn''t over.

    Michael and Enzo stand at the hospital entrance, with Michael instructing, "Hands in your pockets. Act like you have a gun."

    Enzo''s nervous tension is palpable as they stand there. A car passes by, causing Michael and Enzo to tense up, but it just drives on.

    I find myself sighing in relief along with Michael and Enzo.

    Just when I think it''s over, the police arrive and interact with Michael and Enzo. One officer even ps Michael across the face.

    "Come on, Michael. Fight back!" the elf beside me hisses angrily.

    I can''t me him; I feel angry on Michael''s behalf too. But Michael just stands there, humiliation and anger in his eyes, without retaliating.

    I smile slightly. That''s right, Michael. Don''t fight back. I''m d he didn''t act rashly. It''s not the right move for his family.

    "Tsk. He should''ve summoned the biggest fireball ever to put that police officer in mes," the elf grumbles.

    I shake my head slightly. Sure, there might be others who agree with the elf, who want to see some shy demon vengeance. But I bet there are just as many who appreciate Michael''s self-control, who understand that sometimes, for the good of the family, you have to swallow your pride.

    As the scene ends, I find myself more convinced than ever that this film is something special. It''s not just about demon power fantasies or cheap thrills.

    There''s real depth here, real understanding of power dynamics and family loyalty.

    I make a mental note to contact mywyers first thing tomorrow. We need to secure the rights to this film before someone else snaps it up.

    As the film progresses, I find myself increasingly impressed by Michael''s self-control. It''s a refreshing change from the typical demon characters we see in cinema, all fire and brimstone with no restraint.

    But I''d be lying if I said I wasn''t itching to see some payback. Michael''sposure is admirable, sure, but a part of me - the part that''s been conditioned by years of shy action flicks - is eager for that moment of sweet revenge. If not from Michael, then maybe from the hot-headed Sonny.

    And then it happens. A scene unfolds that can only be described as... well, a masterpiece.

    Michael meets with Sollozzo and that same police officer who had the gall to p him earlier. The tension is palpable as Michael excuses himself to the bathroom, retrieves a hidden gun, and returns.

    What happens next is unlike anything I''ve ever seen in demon cinema. No shy spells, no over-the-top action sequences. Just Michael, a gun, and two clean shots to the head as a train roars by, masking the sound.

    The theater erupts in cheers. The elf beside me is on his feet, fist pumping the air. "Yes! That''s it! That''s what I''m talking about!"

    I''m almost deafened by the reaction, but I can''t me them. This scene... it''s something else. There''s a simplicity to it, a brutal efficiency that sends chills down my spine. It''s not about magical prowess or demonic strength. It''s about decision, action, consequence.

    As the implications of what we''ve just witnessed sink in, I can feel a wave of stunned appreciation ripple through the audience.

    I lean back in my seat, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Excitement at what I''ve just seen. Anticipation for what''s toe. And, if I''m being honest, a touch of fear. Not of the violence on screen, but of the impact this film could have.

 Chapter 24: F*ck

    <h4>Chapter 24: F*ck</h4>

    (??? POV)

    The name''s Rupert Darkme. Yeah, that Darkme family. The one with the famous actors. But unlike my younger brother Damien, I''m not exactly the family''s pride and joy.

    For 30 years, I''ve been waiting. Hoping. Praying to whatever dark gods would listen for a demon studio to create a film I could proudly call a masterpiece. But year after year, I''ve been disappointed.

    It''s why I''m not following in Damien''s footsteps. Why my family looks at me like I''m some kind of failed experiment. Because I refuse to settle for mediocrity.

    Ten years ago, I made my debut. The film was trash, pure and simple. I can still hear the snickers from demons, humans, and elves alike. It was... humiliating.

    So I quit. Or at least, that''s what everyone thinks. My family tried to talk me out of it. "Who cares what they think?" they said. "The money''s good, isn''t it?"

    But I couldn''t ept that. Is it so wrong to want to be part of something... good?

    I''ve been searching ever since. Meeting with studio executives, trying to find someone who gets it. But all they see are dor signs. They don''t understand that quality and profit aren''t mutually exclusive. Make a good film, and the money will follow. Is that concept really so hard to grasp?

    The demon film industry... it infuriates me. We''re so far behind, it''s embarrassing.

    But now... now I''m watching "The Demonfather," and I''ve lost count of how many times I''ve felt goosebumps. It''s... it''s everything I''ve been waiting for.

    And yet, I feel... conflicted. Regretful.

    A few weeks ago, I received a script. "The Demonfather," it was called. I barely skimmed it before tossing it aside. It didn''t seem interesting, and when I saw the writer''s name - Arthur Morningstar - I scoffed. Threw it back to my manager without a second thought.

    Now? Now I''m kicking myself. Hard.

    As I watch this film unfold, as I see the depth, the nuance, the sheer craftsmanship on disy, I can''t help but think of what could have been. I could have been part of this. I could have been up there on that screen, making history.

    Instead, I''m just another face in the crowd, watching as someone else - someone I dismissed - redefines demon cinema.

    I''ve spent years searching for the perfect demon film, only to reject it when it was right in front of me. All because I couldn''t see past a name, past my own preconceptions.

    As the film continues, I find myself both ted and devastated. ted because finally, finally, there''s a demon film worthy of praise.

    I watch, transfixed, as Sonny''s character unfolds on screen. The role I was supposed to y. The role I rejected like an idiot. Sonny''s hot-headed, sure, but there''s something endearing about his fierce protectiveness of his sister.

    When he beats the hell out of Carlo for abusing Connie, I can''t help but nod in approval. But then... Carlo''s abuse esctes, and I feel a knot forming in my stomach. If I were Sonny, I''d do more than just rough the bastard up. I''d end him.

    Seems I''m not alone in that sentiment. The theater is buzzing with barely contained rage.

    A frost demon in front of me snarls, "If I met that Carlo guy in person, I''d give him a taste of my cier Crush spell. See how he likes being on the receiving end of some pain."

    "cier Crush? Too quick," a subus to my left hisses. "I''d torture him slowly. Make him beg for death."

    I can''t help but chuckle darkly at their words. ncing towards the front rows, I spot the actor who ys Carlo squirming in his seat. Poor bastard. Hope he''s got good security when he leaves the theater.

    As the scene continues, showing a pregnant Connie enduring more abuse, I feel my blood boil. Damn it, Sonny. How can you not know what''s happening? The audience around me is practically frothing at the mouth, desperate for some sweet, sweet revenge.

    The scene shifts, and we see a woman tending to children when the phone rings. She answers, and her expression changes as she listens to the voice on the other end. Without a word, she hands the phone to Sonny.

    "What?" Sonny''s surprise quickly morphs into fury. His eyes ze with a rage that sends a shiver down my spine. "You just wait there."

    He ms the phone down, muttering through gritted teeth, "That son of a bitch."

    The anticipation in the theater is palpable. I can feel it crackling in the air around me. This is it. Carlo''s about to get what''sing to him, and by the dark gods, we''re all here for it.

    Sonny, true to his hot-headed nature, storms out and jumps into his car. The Corleone men look on, bewildered by his sudden fury, but they don''t dare intervene. As Sonny peels away, the excitement in the audience reaches a fever pitch.

    That loudmouth dwarf from earlier is at it again, but this time, his outburst mirrors what we''re all thinking. "Haha! Sonny''s about to whoop that Carlo''s ass!" he exims, practically bouncing in his seat.

    For once, nobody shushes him. We''re all too caught up in the moment, too eager to see justice served.

    I can''t help but smile, agreeing with the dwarf''s excitement. We''re all anticipating some well-deserved payback.

    But as the scene shifts to a toll booth, I feel a strange sense of unease creeping in.

    "Why does this scene at the toll booth need to be included?" I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

    The human beside me chuckles, "It''s filler, obviously."

    I shake my head, unconvinced. "Filler? So far, this film hasn''t wasted a single frame. It''s... odd."

    "Heh, you''re only saying that because it''s the first time we''ve seen such an engaging demon film," the human replies with a smirk. "Just watch the movie."

    I settle back into my seat, uneasy as Sonny waits for the toll booth operator. The tension in the theater is palpable.

    Suddenly, the tall booth operator ducks, and several demon men emerge, wielding Tommy guns adorned with powerful runic magic. They''re aiming straight at Sonny.

    "Shit!" I exim, my heart racing. "Those are enchanted weapons! They''ll tear through protection spells like paper!"

    Someone nearby shouts, desperation in their voice, "Run, Sonny! Get out of there!"

    The audience is in an uproar. Despite Sonny''s hot-headedness, he''s be a favorite. He''s the character I should have yed, and now...

    It''s over in seconds. The scene that should have been Sonny''s moment of revenge bes his brutal end. The gunshots are deafening as Sonny tries to escape, but it''s futile. He''s caught in a hail of bullets, falling to the ground only to be riddled with more.

    "Fuck," I curse under my breath, watching Sonny''s life ebb away in a pool of blood.

    "This is bullshit!" someone nearby shouts, echoing the sentiment rippling through the crowd.

    The shock in the theater is palpable. This isn''t how it was supposed to go. Sonny was supposed to save the day, to be the avenging brother. Instead, he''s been cut down in a moment of vulnerability, caught off guard and alone.

    As the scene fades, I''m left with a whirlwind of emotions.

    ---

    <strong>Sorry for the title. I really couldn''t think of a good title for this Chapter.</strong>

 Chapter 25: Iâ€™m a true critic

    <h4>Chapter 25: I''m a true critic</h4>

    (Raymond Crow''s POV)

    I''m the poor sap who yed Carlo.

    Right now, I''m feeling the heat of a hundred deadly stares boring into the back of my head. Those tough-looking demons and stocky dwarves? They''re looking at me like they''re nning my murder in excruciating detail.

    Being a half-demon, half-human hasn''t exactly been a walk in the park. Humans don''t trust me, demons look down on me. It''s why I chose to settle in the Morningstar Kingdom.

    Sure, it''s a demon realm, but the discrimination here is... well, let''s say it''s the lesser of two evils.

    Right now, though? I''m wondering if I made the right choice. The hatred radiating from the audience is almost tangible. I can practically taste it.

    And yet... there''s a part of me that''s thrilled. Terrified, sure, but also exhrated. For the first time in my career, people are reacting to my performance. Strongly. Viscerally.

    It''s not the adoration I dreamed of, but hey, any attention is good attention in this business, right?

    I''ve always dreamed of being a star, but good roles for someone like me? They''re rarer than a kind word in the nine hells.

    I''ve often thought about packing up and trying my luck in the dwarven kingdoms or maybe even with the elves. Their entertainment industry is light-years ahead of ours.

    But now? Now I''m not so sure I need to leave. Because this film, this "Demonfather," it''s something else entirely. And it was made right here, in the demon realm I''d almost given up on.

    And it was created by Arthur Morningstar, the prince I''ve been previously despising. The guy I thought was just another entitled royal brat ying at being an artist. Shows what I know, huh?

    As I watch the audience react - humans, elves, dwarves, demons, all captivated by the same story - I can''t help but smile. Yeah, they hate my character right now. They probably want to see Carlo suffer a slow, painful death. But that hatred? It''s born from investment in the story. In the characters. In this world Arthur has created.

    I might be public enemy number one in this theater right now, but I''m also part of something groundbreaking. Something that could change everything for actors like me.

    So let them re. Let them mutter their threats. I''ll take it all with a smile. Because for the first time in my career, I''m part of a film that matters.

    ***

    (??? POV)

    If someone had told me this morning that I''d be utterly engrossed in a demon film by nightfall, I''d haveughed in their face. But here I am, Dianne James, esteemed elf critic from the Moon Kingdom,pletely captivated by "The Demonfather."

    It''s as if the sun has decided to rise in the west. A demon film, of all things, has managed to engage every fiber of my being.

    We elves from the Moon Kingdom, we''re known for our prowess in arts and music.

    And as a critic? Well, let''s just say "picky" doesn''t even begin to cover it.

    Take that human film "Stars in the Cave," for instance. Humans raved about it, called it a masterpiece. Me? I gave it a 3.1-star rating. You''d have thought I''d insulted their firstborns.

    "You don''t know anything about films, Dianne," they said.

    "Dianne James doesn''t know what she''s talking about."

    I just scoffed. If only they knew that a 3.1 from me is practically a standing ovation. In my three years as a critic, I''ve never given higher than a 3.4 - and that was to "The Moon''s Luby," a film from my home kingdom.

    But this... this "Demonfather." If it maintains this quality to the end, I might just do the unthinkable. I might give it a full 5 stars.

    The thought both excites and terrifies me. A perfect score? From me? To a demon film, no less? It''s unprecedented. It''s almost scandalous.

    And yet, as I watch the story unfold, as I find myself invested in these demon characters and theirplex world, I can''t deny the artistry on disy. The nuanced storytelling, thepelling performances, the sheer audacity of its vision - it''s unlike anything I''ve seen before.

    I can already imagine the uproar my review will cause. My fellow elf critics will be appalled. The humans will cry foul, using me of bias against their works. And the demons? They probably won''t believe it themselves.

    But a critic''s job isn''t to pander to expectations or maintain the status quo. It''s to recognize and celebrate true artistry, wherever it may be found.

    And if that artistry happens toe from an unexpected source - a demon prince, of all people - then so be it.

    As I''m lost in thought, contemting the potential impact of my review, my fellow elf critic, Ryu, interrupts with aint.

    "If Carlo isn''t killed for being responsible for Sonny''s death, then I don''t care how good the film is. I''ll give it a bad review," he deres, his voice dripping with disdain.

    I can''t help but sigh. This is exactly the kind of short-sighted critique that gives critics a bad name. "Well, you really can''t rate a film like that just because you hate one character," I point out. "A good critic should evaluate the film as a whole - its narrative structure, character development, cinematography, and overall impact. You shouldn''t let personal feelings about a single character overshadow the entire work."

    Ryu scoffs, clearly not impressed by my attempt at wisdom. "Feelings definitely matter in rating, Dianne. If I don''t like it, I''ll rate it badly."

    I shrug, realizing this is a losing battle. "Your life, your choice," I concede. "Just watch the film and see if it will satisfy your ''feelings''."

    I can feel Ryu''s annoyance radiating off him, but I choose to ignore it. There''s no point in arguing further. Instead, I turn my attention back to the screen, eager to see how the story unfolds.

    As I refocus on the film, I can''t help but reflect on the difference between Ryu''s approach and my own. Yes, emotional engagement is important in cinema. But allowing a knee-jerk reaction to a single plot point to determine your entire opinion of a film? That''s not criticism. That''s just being a fan - or in this case, an anti-fan.

    True criticism requires objectivity, the ability to step back and evaluate the work as a whole. It''s about recognizing artistry and craftsmanship, even in stories or characters we might not personally like.

    And "The Demonfather," regardless of what happens to Carlo, has disyed an abundance of both artistry and craftsmanship. Whateveres next, I''m determined to judge it fairly, based on its merits as aplete work of cinema.

    As the next scene begins, I lean forward slightly, my critical faculties fully engaged. Let''s see what other surprises this demon film has in store for us.

    This film is nothing short of a rollercoaster, each scene more gripping than thest. The attempt on Don Corleone''s life, the tense hospital scene with Michael protecting his vulnerable father, the humiliation of Michael followed by his cold revenge - each moment is etched into my memory with stunning rity.

    And then there''s Carlo''s abuse of Connie, her heartbreaking call to Sonny, and the shocking twist of Sonny''s death just when we thought he was riding to the rescue.

    These scenes don''t just y out on the screen; they resonate within me, sending shivers down my spine and raising goosebumps on my skin.

    The artistry is undeniable. Each actor embodies their character with such conviction that I often forget I''m watching a performance. It''s as if I''m peering through a window into thisplex, dangerous world.

    Of course, there''s the unexpected nudity in Michael''s scene with Apollonia. It''s tastefully done, but as a woman, I can''t help but feel a twinge of disapproval at Michael''s betrayal of Kay.

    Yes, multiple wives aren''t umon in the world, but Michael''s secrecy about it leaves a bitter taste.

    I find myself sympathizing with Kay, left alone and worrying. Perhaps it''s because she''s an elf like me, but I think it''s more than that.

    Her situation speaks to a universal fear of betrayal and abandonment.

    Despite these moral quandaries - or perhaps because of them - I find myself utterly engrossed in the film. It''s not just entertaining; it''s challenging. It''s forcing me to confront my own beliefs and prejudices, to question the nature of loyalty, family, and power.

    This, I realize, is what great cinema does. It doesn''t just show us a story; it makes us part of it. It provokes thought, stirs emotion, and lingers in the mind long after the credits roll.

 Chapter 26: Unforgettable scenes

    <h4>Chapter 26: Unforgettable scenes</h4>

    (Mark Stark POV)

    I can''t help but sigh, my mind a whirlwind of worry as I watch this film. As a family man myself, I find myself rting to "The Demonfather" in ways I never expected.

    I''m from the Leaf Kingdom on the Evros Continent, a noble lord from a family of moderate wealth and power. My presence in the Morningstar Kingdom was supposed to be purely business - a quick trip, a few meetings, and back home to my own troubles.

    But fate, it seems, had other ns. My demon business partner got caught up in this Fend Demon Film Festival, leaving me at loose ends in a city I found, quite frankly, mind-numbingly dull.

    So here I am, watching a demon film of all things, more out of boredom than any real interest. Or at least, that''s how it started.

    Now, hours have passed, and I''m glued to my seat. I nce at my watch, startled to see that two hours have flown by.

    The film isn''t even over yet, and you know what? I don''t care. If it goes on for another hour, I''ll sit here like an obedient hound, hanging on every word, every scene.

    Because this story of a powerful family brought low by rival schemes? It hits close to home. Too close, perhaps. I see myself in Don Corleone, a man trying to navigate the treacherous waters of power and family.

    The scene where Don Vito sets aside his bitterness towards the five families to stop a war... it''s left me feeling conflicted. Rationally, I know it''s the right move. But emotionally? There''s a part of me that yearns for revenge, that wants to see the Don strike back at those who wronged him.

    I find myself sighing again, and I''m not alone. All around me, I hear simr sounds of frustration and concern. None of us want to see this end in disappointment. We''re all invested now, all hoping for... what? Justice? Revenge? Peace? I''m not even sure anymore.

    What I do know is that this film has done something I never thought possible. It''s made me, a human noble, empathize with a demon character. It''s made me see past the horns and the red skin to the universal struggles of family, power, and morality.

    As the film continues, I find myself on the edge of my seat, my business worries momentarily forgotten. Right now, all that matters is the fate of the Corleone family. Because in a strange way, it feels like my own fate hangs in the bnce.

    Though I hated seeing Don Corleone back down from revenge, I feel a glimmer of hope when Michael returns to Empirica, to Apple City. But my heart aches for him. Learning of his brother''s death and losing Apollonia in that explosion... it''s tragedy piled upon tragedy. It''s enough to break anyone.

    I''m amazed Michael hasn''t lost his mind. In his shoes, I''d be consumed by hatred, driven mad by grief. But Michael... he''sposed, eerily so. Yet beneath that calm exterior, I can see a controlled rage simmering. I''m not the only one noticing the change in the once enthusiastic Michael.

    As the story progresses, Michael seems to grow more indifferent, especially after bing the head of the Corleone family. Even with Kay, he''s distant now.

    Watching Moe Greene humiliate Michael and Fredo, I can see Michael containing himself, his eyes betraying a controlled anger. Even Moe notices, but he keeps pushing, mocking the once-powerful Corleone family.

    Around me, I hear murmurs of discontent.

    "Is it always going to be like this?" someone whispers.

    Another voice chimes in, "Are we just wasting our time watching this fallen family get humiliated?"

    "I want to see Michael kill his enemies," a third person grumbles.

    I chuckle softly. That''s what I''m hoping for too, but the Corleones seem powerless now, standing only because of the old Don''s reputation.

    Then, our fears are realized. The old Don dies while ying with his grandchild.

    I can''t help but sigh. "It''s hopeless for the Corleone now," the person beside me says.

    "I hate to say it, but I agree," I reply.

    "Damn," he sighs. "I''m only staying to see how it ends. Whether it''s the destruction of the Corleone or not, I want to see it through."

    "Me too," I nod.

    The funeral scene unfolds, and I grit my teeth seeing the rival Dons, especially that wolf demon, Don Barzini, barely hiding their glee.

    As Michael wees them, someone nearbyins, "Ugh. This is it. I thought this film was good. I didn''t think it was just a story of a fallen family."

    The baptism scene begins, and I hear demons around me scoffing at the idea of a demon embracing the Srus faith. I can onlyugh inwardly at their reaction.

    But then, the music shifts. It doesn''t match the baptism at all.

    "The soundtrack doesn''t fit this scene," someone points out.

    "Yeah, something''s off," another agrees.

    And they''re right. Suddenly, we see shes of Corleone men preparing weapons. The contrast between the peaceful baptism and these ominous preparations is chilling.

    As the priest continues to chant, the tension in the theater is palpable. We''re all on the edge of our seats, sensing that something big is about to happen.

    Could it be? Is Michael about to turn the tables? After all this buildup, all this apparent defeat, are we finally going to see the Corleone family rise again?

    The tension in the theater is electric as the scene alternates between the baptism and the Corleone enemies, seemingly rxed and unaware.

    The priest''s voice cuts through the silence: "Michael, do you believe in the Lord of Light, the God of the Sun, Srus?"

    "I do."

    The scene shifts to Don Barzini, the wolf demon, strolling down the street, oblivious to what''sing.

    "Do you believe that Sun God is the only God that cares for us all, no matter our race?"

    Michael''s calm reply sends chills down my spine: "I do."

    Goosebumps ripple across my skin as we watch the Corleone men meticulously preparing, the baby''s cries adding an eerie backdrop.

    "Michael, do you renounce your ancestor, the evil lord?"

    My eyes widen as the scenes unfold with brutal efficiency. A rival Don,ughing with his friends, is suddenly kicked by Peter and shot with an enhanced shotgun.

    Michael''s indifferent voice: "I do renounce him."

    Moe Greene, rxing during a massage, barely has time to put on his sses before he''s shot directly in the eyes.

    "Holy Hellfire!" someone shouts, their voice a mix of shock and awe.

    One by one, the Corleone enemies meet their ends. Don Tattaglia, caught in bed with a woman, is riddled with bullets from a Tommy guns.

    "I do renounce them," Michael intones, as the massacre continues.

    My heart is racing. This is it. This is the revenge we''ve been waiting for, executed with cold, ruthless precision.

    The wolf demon, Don Barzini, tries to escape using a physical enhancement spell, but even that''s not enough. He''s cut down by a skilled shot from a police officer - clearly on the Corleone payroll.

    Around me, the audience is in an uproar. Gone is the disappointment from earlier, reced by a mix of shock, excitement, and grudging admiration.

    "By the nine hells," the demon next to me whispers, "Michael''s pulled it off."

    An elf behind me can''t contain her amazement: "The contrast... the baptism and the killings... it''s horrifying and brilliant at the same time."

    I find myself nodding in agreement. This scene, this juxtaposition of sacred ritual and calcted violence, is unlike anything I''ve ever seen in cinema.

    As the baptism concludes and thest of the Corleone enemies falls, a hush falls over the theater. We''re all trying to process what we''ve just witnessed.

    Then, slowly, a wave of apuse begins to build. It starts as a few scattered ps, then grows into a thunderous ovation.

    I join in, my hands stinging from the force of my pping.

    As the apuse continues, I can''t help but marvel at the journey this film has taken us on. From despair to triumph, from powerlessness to calcted revenge. And at the center of it all, Michael Corleone, baptized in both water and blood.

 Chapter 27: Masterpiece

    <h4>Chapter 27: Masterpiece</h4>

    (Dianne James'' POV)

    It''s happening right before my eyes - a demon film that has the audience apuding even before it ends. I can scarcely believe it, yet I understand their reactionpletely.

    The juxtaposition of the killings with Michael swearing by Srus'' name during the baptism - it''s undeniably evil, yes. But it''s also... brilliant. Even that word feels inadequate to describe the mastery of this scene.

    I find myself in a moral quandary. How can something so sinister, so morally reprehensible, be so captivating? Then it hits me - we''ve been rooting for a demon crime family all along. Yet, I can''t bring myself to care. It''s fiction, after all, and what matters is its breathtaking execution.

    As the film nears its end, another scene stirs something deep within me. Kay confronts Michael about the massacres, and he denies involvement. The moment Michael''s eyes change, I feel a chill run down my spine. It''s deliciously, terrifyingly evil.

    When Kay, convinced by Michael''s lies, kisses him, I can''t help but pity her. "Poor, naive girl," I mutter under my breath.

    The final shot - the door closing on Kay as Michael receives his men''s loyalty - it''s a masterful touch. As the credits roll and that Demonfather soundtrack ys, I find myself unexpectedly emotional. Without realizing it, I''m on my feet, apuding.

    Beside me, Ryukyu is practically bouncing with excitement. "It was amazing!" he exims, his earlier criticism forgotten.

    I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. "I agree," I say, surprised to find myself inplete ord with him for once.

    ***

    (Eric Roosevelt''s POV)

    My mind is racing, my palms sweaty with excitement. I must secure the rights to this film, no matter the cost. It''s not just about profit anymore - though that''s certainly part of it. This masterpiece needs to be seen by every citizen of Empirica.

    The goosebumps on my skin haven''t subsided. In all my years in the industry, I''ve never seen anything quite like this.

    I''m on my feet, pping until my hands sting. The apuse has been going for a full ten minutes now - a record, and one I never would have expected for a demon film.

    As I look around the theater, I see demons, humans, elves, all united in their appreciation of this cinematic triumph. It''s more than just entertainment - it''s a cultural phenomenon in the making.

    "Unbelievable," I hear someone nearby mutter. "A demon film... who would have thought?"

    I grin to myself. Who indeed? But that''s the beauty of it. "The Demonfather" has just shattered every preconception about demon cinema, about what''s possible in film regardless of who''s making it.

    As the apuse finally begins to die down, I''m already nning my next move. I need to find the director behind this, to secure those distribution rights before anyone else realizes what a goldmine they''re sitting on.

    As the director, crew, and cast step onto the stage, my wide smile falters. There, standing before us, is Arthur Morningstar. I''dpletely forgotten about him.

    For three hours, I was so engrossed in this masterpiece that I''d forgotten it was the creation of a demon prince everyone looks down upon. A prince I''d dismissed without a second thought.

    I quickly shake my head, steeling my resolve. It doesn''t matter if this film came from the evil lord himself. I will get the rights for it!

    ***

    (Arthur''s POV)

    I''ve done it. I''ve finally done it.

    The audience is impressed. Their apuse washes over me like a wave, validating all our hard work. For a moment, I find myself waiting for a system notification, a sign that I''ve fulfilled my mission. Then I remember - I need to make this a "box office sess" toplete the task.

    Focus, Arthur. One step at a time.

    I step up to the microphone, scanning the sea of faces before me. Demons, humans, elves - all united in their appreciation of our work. It''s a sight I never thought I''d see.

    "I am d that everyone was enjoying the film from this ''trashy prince''," I say, unable to keep a hint of satisfaction from my voice. "I am honored."

    Laughter ripples through the audience. Someugh out of embarrassment, realizing they''d underestimated me.

    Othersugh with genuine mirth, appreciating the irony. A few, I notice, don''tugh at all - they''re too busy reassessing everything they thought they knew about demon cinema.

    I don''t care about the reasons. What matters is that we''ve made an impact. Me, my team, we''ve done what everyone said was impossible.

    As I look out at the crowd, I catch sight of a human in expensive clothes, his eyes gleaming with a look I recognize all too well. It''s the look of someone who''s just spotted a golden opportunity.

    Inwardly, I smile. Let theme. Let them see what this ''trashy prince'' can do. Because this? This is just the beginning.

    I can''t help but smirk as I continue my speech. "Some were calling my film ''trash'' before it even began."

    Another wave ofughter ripples through the audience. They remember the naysayers, the doubters. My eyes find the guy in the front row who had been particrly vocal about his low expectations. He''s shrinking in his seat now, trying to avoid the stares. Part of me wants to revel in his difort, but I decide to take the high road.

    Clearing my throat, I redirect the attention. "What you''ve witnessed today wouldn''t have been possible without my team... and the incredible actors who took a chance on me and this project."

    The audience breaks into genuine apuse, and I feel a surge of pride for my crew.

    "Of course," I add with a self-deprecating chuckle, "while they believed in me, they also had their doubts. My infamous reputation preceded me, after all." Moreughter. "But today... I''ve proved the doubters wrong and the believers right."

    Suddenly, a voice cuts through the crowd: "Woo! You did good, Michael!"

    The audience erupts inughter, and more voices join in.

    "You''re amazing, Michael!"

    "You''re my new idol!"

    I can''t help but smile wryly at thements. "Easy there," I say, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "Stop calling me Michael before I forget my own name."

    Theughter that follows is warm, appreciative. It''s a far cry from the skepticism I faced just hours ago.

    As I wrap up my speech, I decide to go out with a bang. "Today, we didn''t just introduce a colored film. We introduced a masterpiece." It''s a bold im, but looking out at the sea of impressed faces, I know no one''s going to argue.

    Then, with a yful glint in my eye, I add, "If anyone here wants to discuss the colored camera technology or the rights to our film, you can talk to meter. I''m very eager about it."

    Moreughter, some cheers. I can see a few industry bigwigs perking up at this, their eyes gleaming with interest.

    With a final wave, I step down from the stage, my heart pounding with a mixture of exhration and relief.

    As I make my way through the crowd, I''m osted by well-wishers, critics eager for interviews, and more than a few industry yers trying to get a word in about distribution rights.

    But amid the chaos, my mind is already racing ahead. This is just the beginning. We''ve proven what we can do, but now... now it''s time to build on this sess.

 Chapter 28: Impact

    <h4>Chapter 28: Impact</h4>

    (Arthur''s POV)

    Just an hour after "The Demonfather" premiered, I find myself inundated with requests from major distributors andpanies. It''s a dizzying change from being the "trashy prince" everyone ignored.

    I decide to meet with Louis Bell, a representative from Impact, a famous electronicspany known for their cars, cameras, projectors, and vinyl record yers. We''re at "Underworld Cuisine," one of the city''s most expensive restaurants. The irony of negotiating a deal for my demon mob film in a ce called "Underworld Cuisine" isn''t lost on me.

    Louis, dressed in an expensive suit with equally pricey sses, leans forward. "Mr. Morningstar," he begins, his tone a mix of condescension and forced politeness, "the colored camera you have isn''t really groundbreaking. There have been colored pictures before, but the technology has been... limited."

    I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, they want to downy my achievement.

    He continues, "Since there''s nothing truly new about the technology, we''re simply asking to license the patent for a reasonable price." He names a figure that''s insultingly low, barely more than pocket change for apany like Impact.

    I have to fight to keep fromughing out loud. Instead, I maintain a neutral expression, channeling my inner Michael Corleone. If there''s one thing I learned from directing "The Demonfather" - or rather, adapting "The Godfather" - it''s the power of a good poker face.

    "I''m afraid I can''t ept such an offer," I say calmly, watching Louis''s expression carefully. "You see, Mr. Bell, while colored pictures may not be new, our technology represents a significant leap forward. It''s not just about still images - we''ve created a way to capture full-color moving pictures. That''s unprecedented."

    I finish my pitch, but Louis''s face remains impassive. Clearly, he''s not easily impressed.

    "You see, Mr. Morningstar," Louis begins, his tone patronizing, "we have to consider various factors for the production of these colored cameras. The manufacturing cost, the marketing, and of course, since it''s a colored camera, the price would be significantly higher than ck-and-white models." He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "We''d be risking a considerable amount of money, and we don''t even know if these colored cameras will sell. So what I''ve offered - the licensing rights, the royalties? It''s already very reasonable."

    I resist the urge to roll my eyes again. Instead, I nod along, feigning understanding. Sometimes, you have to let them talk themselves out.

    "Whether it''ll sell or not isn''t the question, Mr. Bell," I counter, my voice calm but firm. "I''m confident it will sell and be the new standard for the picture industry."

    Louis strokes his chin, a hint of curiosity breaking through his skepticism. "How so?"

    I take a sip of wine, allowing a small smile to y on my lips. "Didn''t you see the colored film I''ve recorded with my camera?" I ask, savoring the moment. "Just an hour ago, this film premiered and received a ten-minute standing ovation. This film will be the best marketing for the colored camera because it''s made such a strong impression."

    "Hmm..." Louis raises an eyebrow, but then drops a bombshell. "I''m sorry, Mr. Morningstar, but I haven''t actually seen the film you made with that camera of yours."

    I nearly choke on my wine. "You haven''t seen it?"

    Louis nods,pletely unabashed. "Yes. I''ve heard about the film from my business partners who watched it - they said it was good. But I don''t care. All that matters to me is that the film was in color."

    I set down my ss, my appetite gone. "If you haven''t watched the film, then we have nothing to discuss. You can''t understand how much this film will impact the colored camera market." I stand, ready to leave. "And I certainly won''t agree to your offer."

    Louis frowns, realizing he''s losing control of the situation. "Wait, Mr. Morningstar," he says hurriedly. "I don''t really think a demon- cough, a film, whether it''s as good as they say, will really affect the sales-"

    I can''t help but chuckle as I turn to leave. "That''s exactly why you need to see the film first. When you''ve done that, then we can meet again to discuss this properly."

    As I walk away, I can feel Louis''s eyes boring into my back. He underestimated me, underestimated my film.

    ***

    (Louis Bell''s POV)

    I watch the arrogant, trashy prince strut out of the restaurant, my blood boiling. "If not for the fact that your colored camera is protected by Global Copyrightws, I''d just copy the whole damn thing," I mutter under my breath.

    A wave of humiliation washes over me. To be dismissed so casually by an infamous, exiled prince... it''s almost too much to bear.

    I scoff at the thought of his precious film making any real difference in camera sales. As if I have time to watch some demon''s vanity project. I''m Louis Bell, for heaven''s sake. I have better things to do with my time.

    That damn prince is stubborn, but soon he won''t be so--

    My internal rant is interrupted by a sh of white on the table. A piece of paper, presumably left behind by that ex-prince. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I reach for it.

    As I read, my jaw clenches:

    "If Impact Electronics can''t make a decision by tomorrow, I''ll have little to lose. There are otherpanies, rivals of Impact, willing to acquire the license for my technologies. I''m sure some of them watched my film and are prepared to make a good offer. -Yours Truly, Arthur Morningstar."

    Anger surges through me. I crumple the paper and toss it aside, my mind racing. The audacity of this demon, trying to y hardball with me!

    But... what if he''s not bluffing? What if ourpetitors have seen this film and are ready to pounce? Can I really risk losing this opportunity over my pride?

    I grit my teeth,ing to a decision I never thought I''d make. "Fine, Morningstar," I growl. "If that''s how you want to y it, I''ll watch your damn film. But it better be worth my time."

    I arrive at the festival, ready to get this over with, only to be met with an unexpected obstacle.

    "I''m sorry, but we''re sold out for the next screening of this film tonight," the receptionist says apologetically. "Perhaps you''d like to reserve a ticket for tomorrow''s screening?"

    I blink in surprise. "Already sold out? The film just premiered an hour ago."

    The receptionist gives me a sheepish smile. "I apologize, but the film is unexpectedly popr..."

    "Must be because it''s the first colored film," I mutter under my breath. Sighing, I nod. "Alright. Save me a ticket for tomorrow''s screening."

    It''s inconvenient, but what choice do I have? I need to see this film if I''m going to negotiate with that exiled prince effectively.

    The next day, I arrive at the theater to find it packed. I have to admit, I''m impressed by the turnout.

    Clearly, the novelty of a colored film is a powerful draw.

    As I settle into my seat, I can''t help but think that even if the story is mediocre, the colored aspect alone will attract attention. Maybe that exiled prince was right about the colored camera being the next big thing - but that was always predictable.

    I only haggled with him to save money. As president of the Impact Electronics branch in the Anatolia continent, it''s my job to maximize profits and minimize risks.

    The lights dim, and "The Demonfather" begins. I watch with little expectation, still convinced that the color is the film''s only real selling point.

    Oh, how wrong I was.

    Three hourster, I leave the theater in a daze, my mind reeling. This film... it''s not just good. It''s phenomenal. Possibly the best film I''ve ever seen.

    Suddenly, I remember why I''m here. Arthur''s request. I nce at my watch and curse under my breath. I need to move fast.

    As I hurry out of the theater, my mind is racing. I need to make Arthur an offer he can''t refuse. Because if I don''t, someone else will. And I''ll be damned if I let this opportunity slip through my fingers.

    The irony isn''t lost on me. I came here expecting to humor a delusional prince. Instead, I''ve just witnessed the future of cinema. And now, I''m the one desperate to make a deal.

 Chapter 29: Disrespect

    <h4>Chapter 29: Disrespect</h4>

    (Arthur''s POV)

    The day after the premiere, I find myself in a whirlwind of meetings. Unlike Louis Bell, the representatives from other electronicspanies actually watched "The Demonfather" and aren''t being stingy about royalties for our camera patents.

    It''s amazing what a little color and a lot of talent can do to change perspectives.

    But the real frenzy is around the film itself. Major distributors are moring to acquire the license, having seen how "The Demonfather" is exploding in poprity. We''re only on the second day of screenings, and tickets are selling out faster than hellfire spreads.

    I can barely believe it when I see the numbers: 4,000 dors from ticket sales already, and that''s after the festival takes its cut.

    Now, every major demon studio, especially Demon Pictures - the same ones who rejected me before - are falling over themselves to convince me to sell them the distribution rights for the Morningstar Kingdom.

    The irony isn''t lost on me, but I push my feelings aside. This isn''t about revenge; it''s about what''s best for Hellfire Studios.

    Demon Pictures is offering a 30% share of the box office and an upfront payment of 1 million dors. It''s tempting, incredibly so. My team is practically begging me to ept it. But I''m not ready tomit just yet.

    Underground Films is on the table with a 40% box office share and a 600,000 dor upfront payment. It''s not bad, but something about it doesn''t sit right with me.

    There''s more offers from various demon studios, then there''s Lava Brothers.

    Their offer catches my eye: 70% of the box office and a 300,000 dor upfront payment. The initial payment is lower, but that percentage... it''s hard to ignore.

    As I mull over the offers, I can''t help but focus on Lava Brothers.

    They''re not as influential as Demon Pictures that''s in the Big Three, but they''re among the Little Five in the Morningstar Kingdom.

    Their offer is intriguing, and I find myself wondering if I could push them a bit further. If they''d raise the upfront payment or bump the box office share to 73 or even 75 percent, I''d be hard-pressed to refuse.

    It''s a risk, no doubt. I can''t be certain "The Demonfather" will be an overwhelming sess. But my gut tells me the chances are high.

    If we hit even just 10 million at the box office in the Morningstar Kingdom... well, the math speaks for itself. The potential earnings from those shares are staggering.

    But it''s not just the demon studios that have caught my attention.

    The offers from human, dwarf, and elven studios are equallypelling. Bryan Brothers, a major human studio, is offering 3 million upfront with a 10 percent box office share.

    Then there''s Science Pictures with 2 million and 8 percent. The options seem endless, each with its own pros and cons.

    As I weigh these offers, I can''t help but marvel at how far we''vee. From scraping together a film with salvaged equipment to fielding offers from major studios across multiple races... it''s almost surreal.

    But I can''t let myself get carried away. Each of these deals could make or break Hellfire Studios. I need to think not just about the immediate payoff, but about our long-term future. Which deal will give us the best tform to build on this sess?

    I remind myself that there''s no need to rush into a decision. I''ve got time to weigh my options carefully. It''s a luxury I never thought I''d have, but one I''m determined to use wisely.

    The day has been a whirlwind of meetings - film studios, electronicspanies, all moring for a piece of the Demonfather pie. It''s exhausting, but exhrating.

    When Louis Bell finally walks in, I can''t help but smile at the change in his demeanor. Gone is the condescending businessman from yesterday. In his ce is a man who''s seen the light - or in this case, the color.

    "Mr. Morningstar," he begins, his voice noticeably more respectful, "I''ve reconsidered our previous discussion. Impact Electronics would like to offer you a 15% royalty on the colored camera patents."

    I raise an eyebrow, remembering his initial lowball offer of 4%. "That''s quite a change of heart, Mr. Bell."

    He has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Yes, well... after seeing your film, I realized I may have underestimated the potential of this technology."

    I nod, keeping my expression neutral despite the satisfaction I feel. "I appreciate your candor. And I ept your offer."

    Louis visibly rxes, but I''m not done yet. "However, you should know that while otherpanies have offered 15% or lower, but with milestone payments and minimum guarantees. I hope Impact is prepared to bepetitive in those areas as well."

    He nods quickly. "Of course, of course. We can certainly discuss those details."

    After we hammer out the patent licensing deal, Louis surprises me with another proposal. "Mr. Morningstar, Impact would also like to discuss the possibility of product cement in ''The Demonfather''. We''d be willing to pay for our brand to be featured in the film."

    I can''t help but chuckle. "You''re not the first to make such a proposal, Mr. Bell," I say, thinking of the otherpanies who''ve approached me with simr ideas. "But I''m certainly willing to discuss it."

    As Louis leaves, looking far more satisfied than when he arrived, I feel a wave of exhaustion wash over me. It''s been a long day of negotiations and decisions.

    I make my way back to my "humble home" - the studio that''s be so much more than just a workspace. As I settle into my makeshift bed, surrounded by the tools of our trade, I can''t help but feel a sense of aplishment.

    We''vee so far, so fast. From aughingstock to the belle of the ball, all because we dared to dream in color.

    As I drift off to sleep, my mind is still buzzing with possibilities. Tomorrow brings more decisions, more negotiations. But for now, I''ll allow myself this moment of satisfaction.

    ***

    (Richie Robbins'' POV)

    As a demon priest of the Srus Church branch here in the Morningstar Kingdom, I''m no stranger to prejudice. It''s not just me - all demon followers of Srus face the same discrimination. But what of it? These close-minded demons who look down on us have no real power over the followers of Srus.

    Let them try to harm even one of our members. They''ll face the fury of the Srus Religion and our Lord Srus himself. It''s aforting thought, even in the face of daily sneers and whispers.

    Today started like any other, tending to my priestly duties. But then I overhear something... unusual. A group of our choir demon orphans are huddled together, whispering excitedly:

    "Did you guys watch The Demonfather? It was so good!"

    "Yeah, Michael is so cool."

    "But is it really right to admire such a film? I mean, it kind of disrespects our religion-"

    "Shh!! Don''t talk about it!"

    I frown, stepping closer. "Is there anything I should know about, children?"

    The orphans scatter like startled imps, their faces a picture of panic. One of them stammers, "Umm... Priest Robbins. It was nothing."

    I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep my voice gentle but firm. "Thou shall not lie, my child. What is it?"

    They exchange nervous nces before one reluctantly hands me a newspaper.

    "What could this be?" I mutter, unfolding it.

    The headline screams at me: "First Ever Colored Film is a Demon Film! Yet it was not only colored, it was also the best film I''ve seen!"

    Confused, I start reading. What does this colored film have to do with our religion?

    But as I read on, my confusion turns to dismay. One line in particr catches my eye: "As a demon critic - the best scene for me is the baptism scene. I love every scene of it, every disrespect to Srus was both funny and exciting. It was so bold for the exiled prince to even include it."

    My frown deepens as I study the ck-and-white photo of Arthur Morningstar in what appears to be a baptism scene. Wait a minute...

    "Isn''t this the exiled prince who shot a film in our church a few weeks ago?" I ask, more to myself than the anxious orphans.

    The pieces start falling into ce, and a cold dread settles in my stomach. We allowed a film to be shot in our sacred space, and this is how they''ve used it? To mock our faith?

 Chapter 30: Analysis and Theories

    <h4>Chapter 30: Analysis and Theories</h4>

    (Vivienne Westwood''s POV)

    It''s been a few days since "The Demonfather" premiered, and I still can''t wrap my head around the buzz it''s creating. A film made by that exiled prince, of all people, has the entire capital of the Morningstar Kingdom talking.

    As the actress who yed Apollonia, I''m suddenly finding myself recognized everywhere I go. It''s... strange, to say the least.

    Just this morning, my neighbors in the Center District apartmentplex were practically falling over themselves to talk to me. And don''t even get me started on my trip to the market.

    "Apollonia! You''re alive!" a group of teenagers shouted, their eyes wide with excitement.

    Some idiot even yelled, "Please go see Michael!"

    I appreciate the attention, really. It''s gratifying to see my work recognized, to be part of something so well-received. But dealing with these people? It''s exhausting.

    Who would have thought a film by an exiled prince could generate this much admiration? It''s almost unbelievable.

    As I think about the film''s sess, I can''t help but remember that scene... the kiss with Arthur. I quickly shake my head, trying to dislodge the memory.

    I''ve found myself buying newspapers every daytely, something I never used to do. But "The Demonfather" is always featured, and I can''t resist reading what they''re saying about the film... and, if I''m honest, about my performance.

    Though I''ve been a bit disappointed to find little mention of myself in the articles. Not that I mind too much. It''s enough to be part of such a sessful film.

    Back in my apartment, I settle on my bed with my stack of newspapers. As I read through the articles, I can''t help but chuckle at the praise for the baptism scene. I wonder how the Srus church is reacting to that.

    It''s funny, really. When I first took this role, I never imagined it would lead to all this. Fame, controversy, endless newspaper articles... it''s a whole new world.

    Of course, not all the reviews are glowing. I can''t help but smirk as I read some of the more critical pieces, especially those from newspapers clearly aligned with the Srus faith. Most of these are from human countries, their outrage practically leaping off the page:

    "A barbaric film. Uncivilized, and so violent. We must condemn this kind of cinema that disrespects faith so tantly."

    I roll my eyes. As if their ''civilized'' world is free from violence.

    Another paper takes a different tack: "How can this film receive such praise? It clearly romanticizes criminal families. These are real problems in many countries, and they certainly don''t adhere to any moral code like the Corleones."

    I snort. Clearly, they missed the point entirely.

    But the one that really gets me is from BM News, owned by Arthur''s brother, Bobby Morningstar. Their ''review'' isughably brief: "This film is nothing but trash. Anyone liking it is equally trashy."

    "Real professional journalism there, Bobby," I mutter, shaking my head. It''s painfully obvious that Arthur and his brother aren''t on the best terms.

    Thankfully, not all the coverage is so negative. I eagerly turn to the Fend Daily, which has been singing "The Demonfather''s" praises for days now.

    But what really catches my eye is a series of articles by a journalist named Donald Freezon.

    This guy... he''s something else. He''s been watching the film consecutively for days, analyzing every detail. His dedication is impressive, to say the least.

    I lean in, engrossed in histest piece: "I''ve watched The Demonfather 10 times now. Each day, I''ve tried to buy tickets for all three screenings, though sometimes I''ve been unlucky. After all this viewing, here''s what I''ve discovered..."

    I dive into Donald''stest analysis, my eyes widening with each paragraph:

    "In the scene where Michael meets Sollozzo, pay attention to the painting in the background. It''s a subtle nod to the fall of the demon family, foreshadowing Michael''s own journey. And did you notice the way the light shifts during Don Corleone''s office scenes? It''s a brilliant representation of his waning power..."

    "Unbelievable," I mutter, shaking my head in amazement. It''s be my mantra while reading Donald''s pieces. Every single time, he uncovers something new, something I never noticed despite being right there on set.

    I find myself wondering: is the film really this deep, or is Donald reading too much into it? But then again, does it matter? The analysis is fascinating either way, and it''s making people engage with the film on a whole new level.

    As I reach the end of the article, Donald''s conclusion hits me like a ton of bricks:

    "The Demonfather isn''t just the best film I''ve ever seen - it''s also the most intricate andplex. It''s a film that reveals new secrets with each viewing. The details, whether hidden in the background or subtly conveyed through the actors'' performances, create a rich tapestry that rewards close attention and repeated watching."

    I lean back, my mind reeling. I knew we were making something special, but this... this is beyond anything I could have imagined.

    A part of me wants tough. If only Donald knew how many of those ''brilliant details'' were happy idents orst-minute improvisations. But another part of me is in awe. Did Arthur really n all of this? Was there more to our exiled prince director than any of us realized?

    I find myself itching to watch the film again, to see if I can spot some of these details Donald''s talking about. It''s strange, being both insider and outsider - I was there when we filmed these scenes, but now I''m discovering them anew through the eyes of our audience.

    I shake my head, setting aside Donald''s analysis, and reach for another newspaper. This one''s from a human publisher, featuring a theory article by Jordan Lamb. As I start reading, I can feel my eyebrows climbing higher and higher:

    "The Demonfather Theory today: I believe Arthur named Apollonia in the film after his sister, Princess Apollonia. From what I''ve uncovered, Arthur has a good rtionship with his sister. Could the Corleone family be a mirror of the Morningstar family?"

    I lean in closer, my interest piqued. This is getting into some dangerous territory.

    "It seems Arthur specifically named Michael''s love interest Apollonia... Michael is the youngest of the Corleones, just as Arthur is the youngest Morningstar. What could this mean? Is it possible that Arthur is secretly the king''s chosen heir, but this is being kept under wraps to protect Arthur from political conflict? And could Apollonia, his sister, be in danger? Is the film Arthur''s way of warning her about a threat to her life?"

    I pause, a chill running down my spine. Of course, I''m curious - Apollonia was my role, after all. But this theory... it''s treading into murky waters.

    "Hellfire," I mutter. "What have we gotten myself into?"

    I''d always assumed Arthur chose the name Apollonia simply because it sounded exotic, mysterious. But if there''s any truth to this theory...

    My mind races back to our time on set. Did Arthur ever give any hints about this? Was there anything in his direction that might support this wild theory?

    I shake my head, trying to clear it. This is crazy. It''s just a film, right? I''m not actually caught up in some royal intrigue... am I?

    But a nagging voice in the back of my mind won''t let it go. The intensity Arthur brought to certain scenes, the way he insisted on specific details that seemed arbitrary at the time...

    "Damn it, Arthur," I mutter. "What kind of mess have you dragged me into?"

    I let out a frustrated sigh and flop back onto my bed. This is not what I signed up for when I took this role. I wanted to be an actress, not a pawn in some borate political chess game.

 Chapter 31: Pure Flame Award goes to...

    <h4>Chapter 31: Pure me Award goes to...</h4>

    (Arthur''s POV)

    A few days after "The Demonfather" premiered, I''ve started narrowing down the distribution offers. Today, I''m scheduled to meet with Ray Lava of the Lava Brothers. Their offer has caught my eye, and I''m curious to hear more.

    Ten minutes after our appointed time, Ray arrives at my studio. He''s an imposing figure - tail ame, red hair, red eyes - but he''s dressed in a sharp suit that screams professionalism.

    As he looks around, he says, "Your Highness, this ce looksfy. You have a great setup here."

    I have to stifle augh. Ray''s clearly trying to be polite, but this ce is far from luxurious. It''s a workspace, office, and until recently, my bedroom all rolled into one. But hey, at least the bed in the corner is gone now that I can afford a nearby apartment.

    "Have a seat, Mr. Lava," I say, gesturing to a chair. "And please, drop the ''Your Highness''. I''m not exactly on the royal family''s card list anymore."

    Ray nods, seeming relieved at the informality. "Understood, Mr. Morningstar."

    I lean forward, getting down to business. "Now, I can see the Lava Brothers are quite eager to acquire the rights for ''The Demonfather''. Your offer of 72% box office share and 330,000 dors upfront is... well, it''s raised a few eyebrows. I''m wondering if you''re even looking to make a profit here."

    Ray shifts in his seat, and I press on. "Let me ask you straight out - why are the Lava Brothers willing to risk so much on my film?"

    Ray takes a deep breath before answering. "If I''m being honest with you, Mr. Morningstar, it''s because my brothers and I believe your film is the key to breaking the curse of mediocrity that''s gued demon cinema for far too long. We see ''The Demonfather'' as a turning point, a chance to prove that demons can create art that rivals - or even surpasses - what humans and other races are producing."

    I can''t help but smile at his words. Sure, I''m not naive enough to think profit isn''t a factor - this is still a business, after all. But their vision, their belief in the potential of demon cinema... it''s refreshing. It''s rare to find that kind of passion in this industry.

    "That''s quite a vision, Mr. Lava," I say, leaning back in my chair. "And I have to say, it''s an appealing one. But let''s talk specifics. How do you n to market and distribute ''The Demonfather'' to achieve this lofty goal?"

    ***

    (Rupert Darkme''s POV)

    Two weeks have passed since the Fend Demon Film Festival kicked off, and today''s the moment of truth. The air in the Crimson Theatre is thick with anticipation as we await the announcement of the "Pure me Award" winner.

    The ce is crawling with industry bigwigs - writers, actors, producers, filmmakers - all here to see which film takes home the top prize. But my eyes are fixed on one person: Arthur Morningstar, the exiled prince, sitting in the middle rows.

    It''s like looking at a different demon. Gone is the hesitant, oft-mocked prince. In his ce sits a man radiating confidence. I''ve been itching to approach him, but he''s constantly surrounded by others, no doubt discussing his groundbreaking colored camera tech and "The Demonfather".

    "Which film do you think will win the ''Pure me Award''?" The whispered question from the demon next to me pulls me from my thoughts.

    Hispanion scoffs. "Is that even a question? It''s got to be ''The Demonfather''. Nothing elsees close."

    I nod in silent agreement. It''s not just the best film in thepetition - it might be the best film I''ve ever seen, period. Human and elven "masterpieces" included.

    The festival director, a diminutive imp demon, takes the stage. We sit through the announcements for short films and other minor categories. "Pure Subus" snags the Audience Choice Award, which isn''t surprising given its poprity.

    Finally, it''s time for the main event. The imp clears his throat, his voice echoing through the suddenly silent theater. "And the Pure me Award goes to..."

    He opens the envelope, and I swear I see his face fall for a split second. His voice loses its bombastic tone, bing almost meek. "Rising Demon: Bobby."

    The theater erupts in chaos. Shouts of disbelief and anger fill the air.

    "What?" I hear myself say, my voice lost in the cacophony of outrage.

    The confusion in the theater is palpable. Voices rise in a cacophony of disbelief and anger.

    "Rising Demon: Bobby? Are they serious?" someone near me sputters.

    Another voice chimes in, incredulous, "I don''t remember anyone even watching that film! Did it even screen?"

    I''m still trying to process what''s happening when the director of the winning film steps onto the stage. As he epts the award, the audience falls into a stunned silence.

    It''s Bobby Morningstar. Arthur''s brother.

    "Thank you for this prestigious award," Bobby says, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. Heunches into a speech, acting as if the award was destined for him all along.

    I look around, trying to make sense of what just happened. Most of the audience is on their feet, gesticting wildly. Some are heading for the exits, disgust clear on their faces.

    I can''t help but turn my attention to Arthur, and I''m not alone. Half the theater seems to be watching for his reaction.

    Looking at Arthur, he''s the spitting image of Michael Corleone from "The Demonfather" - calm, yet cold. Of course, Arthur yed Michael, but this... this isn''t acting. This is Arthur channeling that same terrifyingposure that made Michael such a chilling character.

    The resemnce is uncanny, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

    ***

    (Arthur''s POV)

    As the announcement sinks in, I''m fighting the urge to punch someone. The anger bubbles up inside me, but I force it down. It''s not worth it.

    It''s just a damn award from a demon film festival. It doesn''t prove anything.

    So I sit there, calm as a frozenke, watching Bobby''s smug speech. The bastard even has the audacity to look at me challengingly as he wraps up.

    Fucking bastard, I curse inwardly. But outwardly? I''m the picture ofposure.

    Let him have his fake award. He can clutch his little trophy all he wants, but the real prize - the attention, the buzz, the future of demon cinema - that''s all mine. And it''s real.

    I p politely as he steps off the stage, my face a mask of indifference.

    As I stand to leave, something odd happens. The demons in the seats part like the Red Sea, fear evident in their eyes as I pass.

    I''m momentarily confused. Did they misunderstand something?

    But then I shrug it off. Who cares? It makes it easier for me to get the hell out of this farce of an awards ceremony.

    As I stride towards the exit, my mind is already racing ahead. This setback? It''s nothing. Just a bump in the road. The real game is just beginning.

    Bobby can have his little moment of glory. But I''ve got a revolution to lead, and I''m just getting started.

    The award may not have gone my way, but I''ve got something far better: my reward from the Entertainment System -puter technologies.

    A grin spreads across my face as I consider the possibilities. I''m going to create my own electronicspany, developputers, maybe evenunch a video game console and start selling games.

    After all, my system isn''t called the "Entertainment System" for nothing.

    I''ve recently unlocked something called Entertainment Points. The concept is simple but powerful: I gain points based on how much I entertain people. The more impressed they are, the more points I rack up.

    It''s like a game, really. A game I intend to win.

    As I step out into the cool night air, I can almost see the future unfolding before me. Movies were just the beginning. Withputers and video games, I can revolutionize entertainment in this world. I can bring joy, excitement, and wonder to people on a scale never before seen.

    And the best part? The more I entertain, the more I impress, the more points I''ll gain. It''s a beautiful, self-perpetuating cycle of creativity and reward.

    I chuckle to myself, earning a few strange looks from passing demons.

 Chapter 32: Distribution deals

    <h4>Chapter 32: Distribution deals</h4>

    (Arthur''s POV)

    I might not have won the "Pure me Award," but I''ve won something far more valuable - attention. And boy, am I capitalizing on it.

    Right now, I''m in the midst of striking a deal with "Bryan Brothers," a major human film studio. They initially lowballed me with 3 million and a 10% box office cut. But I''ve been ying this game long enough now. After some back-and-forth, we''ve settled on 1.5 million upfront and a 32% box office share. Not too shabby for screening "The Demonfather" across Empirica.

    But that''s just the beginning. Over in the Evros region, "Reba Films" is offering 500 thousand dors and a 35% box office share to distribute in the Sumeria Kingdom. Done deal.

    Then there''s "Icy Pictures" from the Winter Kingdom - 300 thousand and a 25% share. It''s the best offer from that neck of the woods, so I''m taking it.

    The list goes on - "Moonshine Entertainment Pictures" from the Elven Kingdom, "Stonecraft Pictures" from the Dwarven Kingdom... I''ve spent weeks negotiating, but it''s paying off big time.

    All told, I''m looking at about 7.5 million dors in upfront payments for the film.

    And that''s not even counting the camera technology deals George and I struck. We''ve pocketed about 80 thousand from minimum guarantees and milestone payments. It might seem like chump changepared to the film profits, but it''s just the beginning.

    Once those colored cameras hit the market? The royalties will start rolling in. George and I might never have to work another day in our lives.

    But I''m not stopping here. This is just the foundation. With the Entertainment System at my disposal and these resources at my fingertips, I''m poised to revolutionize not just demon cinema, but the entire entertainment industry across all races.

    Movies, cameras,puters, video games - it''s alling together.

    Riding high on my recent sesses, I head back to the studio, eager to surprise my loyal crew with news of a well-deserved raise. But as I approach, I''m met with an unexpected scene: my team facing off against a group of intimidating, yet professionally dressed demons.

    Klein spots me first, relief washing over his face. "Boss, we have visitors from Fend Bank. They''re here about the loan."

    One of the suit-d demons turns to me, his expression stern. "Mr. Morningstar, we''re here on behalf of Fend Bank. We''re requesting immediate and full repayment of your outstanding loan."

    I blink, caught off guard. "Excuse me? I was under the impression that I had a six-month grace period before repayment was due. It''s only been about two months."

    The demon clears his throat, looking slightly ufortable. "Yes, well, there''s been a change in policy due to... recent events. The bank has decided to call in all high-risk loans effective immediately."

    My mind races. This is a problem. Sure, I''ve negotiated deals worth millions, but it''s all still on paper. The money''sing, but it''s going to different banks, and what I have received isn''t in my Fend Bank ount yet.

    I take a deep breath, maintaining myposure. "I see. I''ll need a day or two to arrange the transfer of funds, but you can assure Fend Bank that they''ll receive full repayment, including all rued interest."

    The bank representatives exchange nces, clearly not expecting such a calm and assured response.

    "Very well, Mr. Morningstar," the lead demon says, his tone a mix of surprise and respect. "We''ll inform the bank of yourmitment. They''ll expect the full amount within 48 hours."

    As they turn to leave, I can''t help but wonder about the timing of this. Is it just a coincidence, or is someone trying to put pressure on me?

    Once they''re gone, I turn to my bewildered crew. "Well, looks like we''ve got some financial juggling to do. But don''t worry - we''ve faced bigger challenges than this."

    Klein steps forward, concern etched on his face. "Boss, are we... are we in trouble?"

    I smile, cing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Not at all, Klein. In fact, we''re doing better than ever. This is just a small hup. And speaking of our sess, how about we discuss those raises I promised?"

    As my team''s worried expressions turn to smiles, I can''t help but feel a surge of determination. Someone might be trying to throw a wrench in my ns, but they''ve underestimated me.

    I''vee too far to let a little thing like a suddenly-due bank loan slow me down. If anything, this is just another challenge to ovee on my way to revolutionizing the entertainment industry.

    ***

    (Bobby Morningstar''s POV)

    Two weeks have passed since I clinched the "Pure me Award" for my second masterpiece, "Rising Demon: Bobby". It''s an action-packed tour de force, if I do say so myself. All about yours truly - showcasing my coolness, my intimidating demeanor, my noble spirit. In short, it''s irrefutable proof that I''m worthy of the Morningstar name.

    After my well-deserved win, I was ready for the praise to start rolling in. I could almost hear it: "Bobby Morningstar''s film is simply remarkable. He''s as cool and powerful on screen as he is in real life. Truly a credit to demonkind!"

    But no. That''s not what happened at all.

    Instead, these ungrateful wretches have the audacity to question my victory. Can you believe it?

    One demon rag had the gall to print: "The Demonfather loses to Rising Demon: Bobby. Experts say it was rigged."

    Rigged? Please. It''s called recognizing true talent.

    Another one chirped: "The rivalry between brothers resulted in cheating."

    As if I''d need to cheat to beat Arthur''s little home movie.

    But the one that really gets my goat? Some no-name critic actually wrote: "Bobby Morningstar - his first film was full of propaganda about how cool he is. I ignored itst year. But this year, his second film is even more full of it. He centered the film all about himself. Everyone is dumb but him. It''s so one-dimensional that I want to puke. Yet it won the ''Pure me Award''. It was nothing short of a robbery from the true winner ''The Demonfather''."

    I crumple the newspaper in my fist, fighting the urge to incinerate it with hellfire. How dare they? I''m Bobby Morningstar, for evil lord''s sake! I''m the cool one, the talented one, the one who was supposed to bring glory to the family name.

    And what do I get instead? usations of cheating, ims of propaganda,parisons to my exile failure of a brother.

    I storm over to the window, ring out at the city below. This isn''t how it was supposed to go. I was meant to be celebrated, admired, feared.

    Instead, I''m aughingstock. All because of Arthur and his stupid colored film.

    I didn''t even bother wasting my time watching that so-called "masterpiece" The Demonfather. I don''t need to see it to know it''s trash. It''s obviously just the novelty of color that has everyone raving.

    Gritting my teeth, I storm off to the training grounds to vent my anger. "Infernus Globus!" I roar, summoning a massive fireball that hovers above my palm. I direct it towards the metallic dummy, watching with grim satisfaction as it melts under the intense heat.

    Fucking Arthur.

    I summon another fireball,rger this time, and unleash it with a primal scream.

    As the smoke clears, a n begins to form in my mind. I need to get my hands on that colored camera technology. And fast.

    Several electronicspanies have already assured me they can provide one - for a price. I don''t care how much it costs. Once I have it, I''ll make a colored film that will truly be worthy of admiration.

    I smirk to myself. Arthur may have won this round, but he won''t win the war.

    After all, what good is a fancy camera to someone who can''t even summon a simple fireball?

 Chapter 33: Demon Mob

    <h4>Chapter 33: Demon Mob</h4>

    (Arthur''s POV)

    With my loyal crew now enjoying their well-deserved raises, I head to a ce I can finally call home - or at least, rent.

    As an exiled prince, "home" has been a fluid concepttely. But this spacious apartment in the cheap district? It''s a start. At 1,000 dors a month, it''s not exactly cheap, but it''s close to the center district.

    A month ago, this would have been an impossible dream. Now? It''s just another bill I can confidently pay.

    As I unlock the door to my new ce, my mind is already racing ahead. Why stop at renting? This whole district is ripe for the picking. Land here is dirt cheappared to other areas. With some smart investments, I could turn this into my own little empire.

    I chuckle to myself as I imagine it. "Hellfire District" has a nice ring to it, doesn''t it? But that''s a n for the future.

    For now, I''ve got more pressing matters to attend to.

    After a long day of negotiations and strategic nning, I treat myself to a rxing soak in the bathtub. It''s a simple pleasure, but one that feels downright luxurious after the chaos of the past few weeks.

    Following a quiet dinner for one - a far cry from the royal feasts of my past, but satisfying in its own way - I notice a newspaper peeking out of my mailbox. Curiosity piqued, I snatch it up.

    My eyes immediately lock onto the bold headline on the front page: "The Demonfather, secured by Lava Brothers, will screen nationwide soon".

    I can''t help but chuckle. The buzz around my film is real, and it''s growing.

    While not everyone in Fend City has caught the fever yet, the well-to-do folks in the center district and other affluent areas near the Crimson Theatre can''t stop gabbing about it. It''s like wildfire, spreading from one social circle to the next.

    Shaking my head in amused disbelief, I set the paper aside. It''ste, and even revolutionary filmmakers need their beauty sleep.

    Before I hit the hay, I can''t resist checking my Entertainment Points. The system shes the number before my eyes: 2,307 points.

    It might not seem like much now, but I know it''s just the beginning. Once "The Demonfather" starts screening across the country - hell, across the world, thanks to those distribution deals I''ve secured - these points are going to skyrocket.

    As I lie in bed, my mind wanders to the possibilities my Entertainment Points offer. The Power Shop is a treasure trove of potential - magic spells, martial arts techniques, even methods to increase my magic or physical power.

    It''s like a video game character upgrade system, but for real life.

    The power-boosting methods are tempting, but at 100,000 points for the cheapest one, they''re still way out of my reach. For now, at least.

    But the real gold mine? The Entertainment Shop. It''s stocked with a wealth of content from my previous life - films, novels, manga, anime,ics, games, music. It''s like having the collective creativity of an entire world at my fingertips.

    Films, novels, and music seem like the low-hanging fruit. I''ve got the know-how to produce those without much additional skill. But manga, anime, andics? That''s a different beast altogether.

    I could theoretically buy drawing skills from the Skill Shop, but it''s frustratingly still locked. And while I could hire artists, they''d need guidelines only I could provide. It''s a ssic catch-22.

    As I mull over my options, a n starts to form. Start with what I know - films and music. Use those to rack up more points. Then, once I''ve built up a sufficient reserve, I can unlock more skills and branch out into other media.

    It''s a long-term strategy, but hey, Rome wasn''t built in a day. And neither was a multi-media entertainment empire.

    As for games? Well, that''s the real prize at the end of this particr rainbow. Once "The Demonfather" bes a box office hit, I''ll unlockputer technologies. It''s like leveling up in the most high-stakes game I''ve ever yed.

    But even with my knowledge from my previous life, I knowputers are no joke. This world is still trudging through the second industrial revolution. We''re decades, if not centuries, away from anything resembling modernputing.

    Sure, I''ve got the knowledge, but turning that into reality? That''s a whole other ballgame. I''m looking at building something with the power of an 80s or 90sputer, but without any of the infrastructure orponents that made those machines possible.

    I''d need to source materials that might not even exist here, figure out how to create circuit boards from scratch, and don''t even get me started on programmingnguages. It''s like trying to build a spaceship with stone tools.

    But then again, this world has a few tricks up its sleeve that my old one didn''t. Magic, for one. And who knows what other mysterious powers are just waiting to be discovered?

    What if I could use mana crystals as a power source? Or enchant circuit boards to boost their processing power? Hell, maybe I could even use some kind of divination magic to help with coding. The possibilities are mind-boggling.

    And let''s not forget my ace in the hole - George. That crazy dwarf might just be the key to making this work. Between his knack for invention and my knowledge from another world, we could be an unstoppable team.

    The more I think about it, the more excited I get. This isn''t just about recreating Earth''s technology. It''s about forging something entirely new - a fusion of science and magic that could revolutionize this world in ways I can barely imagine.

    ***

    (Anus Hades'' POV)

    I''ve been a mob guy all my life, serving Don Leviathan in Apple City, Empirica.

    Being a demon mafia?

    It''s like being at the bottom of the bottom of the food chain.

    You think demons have it rough? Try being a demon mobster.

    We''re lower than goblins in most folks'' eyes. Sure, there are elf, dwarf, and even human mobsters - heck, the humans practically run the show - but us demon mobsters? We''re the scum of the scum, as far as society''s concerned.

    It''s almost funny, in a sick way. Don Leviathan''s got a stricter moral code than most "respectable" folks.

    No drugs, no hurting civilians unless it''s self-defense, and if possible, don''t fight back at all. We even help out the poor and discriminated, no matter their race.

    Our racket? Gambling, selling old forbidden magic spells on the ck market, peddling magic cores at discount prices. Hardly the stuff of nightmares. But does that matter to the general public? Not a chance.

    But hey, I get used to it. It''s just another day in the life of a demon mobster.

    I spot a demon kid hawking newspapers and decide to do my bit for themunity.

    I toss him a few coins and grab a paper. As I''m walking, I unfold the Moon Daily - straight from the Moon Kingdom, no less.

    The headline catches my eye: "The Demonfather".

    Well, well, well. A demon film about the mob? Now that''s something you don''t see every day. But what really gets me is the review underneath.

    Dianne James - that elf critic who''s harder to please than a dragon with a toothache - gave it five stars. Five! This is the same critic who can''t even bring herself to give human flicks a solid four.

    I have to read it twice to make sure I''m not seeing things. A demon film, not just good, but good enough to earn top marks from the toughest critic in the business?

 Chapter 34: Obsessed fan

    <h4>Chapter 34: Obsessed fan</h4>

    (Anus Hades POV)

    Reading the review about the demon film was full of praise from such a picky critic. I find myself curious about this so-called film "The Demonfather".

    I haven''t watched the film yet, and I don''t know if Dianne was telling the truth or not, but it has certainly piqued my curiosity. After all, it''s a film about my kind.

    I just closed the newspaper when I saw a billboard in the distance that boldly disyed ¡ª "The Demonfather" showing on October 10, 1271.

    The colorful billboard has the Bryan Brothersbel on it, and the design of the picture evokes a powerful feeling within me.

    It''s a picture of an old vampire demon, wearing a ck suit with a blood-red rose pinned to hispel. He''s dressed in a finely tailored, pinstriped suit with widepels, a crisp white shirt, and a ck tie. He sits regally in a high-backed leather chair, exuding an air of authority.

    Looking at the picture, it reminds me of Don Leviathan ¡ª his style is simr to that, but somehow, the old demon on the billboard picture conveys a sense of authority and power that somehow exceeds my view of Don Leviathan.

    "Is this the film that infamous critic is raving about?" I mutter to myself as I nce at the closed newspaper in my hand.

    October 10 is just around the corner. I quickly make my way to the local theater box office. I don''t mind using some of my savings to secure a ticket for the October 10 showing. This is one film I simply must see for myself.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    My film is set to premiere nationwide in the Morningstar Kingdom in about a week, on October 3, 1271. In the few weeks since finalizing the agreement with the Lava Brothers, LB has been aggressively advertising the film through billboards, newspapers, and their own magazines.

    My team and I, along with the cast, have been exceptionally busy. I''ve hired workers to ster posters and distribute lobby cards in public spaces like bus stops and theater lobbies. We''ve also been making the rounds on radio channels partnered with Lava Brothers, discussing the film.

    I suggested a publicity stunt to the Lava Brothers for additional marketing. Today, we''ve organized an unusual event where most attendees have already seen "The Demonfather." We''re facing journalists invited by Lava Brothers, fielding questions about the film. At my insistence, we''re also taking questions from the general public.

    A dwarf approaches the microphone, his voice tinged with skepticism. "My friend told me that The Demonfather was a masterpiece. I''ve never watched the film, so I don''t believe it. So, prince director, is my friend telling the truth?"

    The term "prince director" elicits chuckles from the crowd.

    I lean into the microphone, a wry smile ying on my lips. "Are you seriously asking me that? If I said yes, would you believe me, considering I made the film and might be biased?"

    Laughter ripples through the audience. The dwarf, undeterred, continues, "Maybe. After all, The Demonfather didn''t even win the festival''s main award."

    I chuckle inwardly, wondering if this dwarf was nted by someone with a grudge or if he simply dislikes me. Either way, I can only respond diplomatically. "I couldn''t say how good it really is, but one thing is certain ¡ª you''ll only know when you''ve watched it for yourself. Thank you."

    As I step back from the microphone, I can''t help but feel a mix of pride and anticipation. Regardless of the skeptics, I know the film speaks for itself. The real test wille when it hits theaters across the kingdom.

    ***

    (Anubis meworth POV)

    I''ve been relentlessly checking for updates on "The Demonfather''s" nationwide premieretely. It''s a film my cousin rmended after he watched it at the film festival.

    Initially, I thought my cousin was overly excited about a worthless film. I felt it would be a waste of my time, especially considering the illegal operations of my gang around Fend city that demand my attention.

    I assumed my cousin was exaggerating, particrly when he kept rewatching it. But only after experiencing the full film did I understand why his enthusiasm was justified.

    After watching it, I became even more obsessed than my cousin.

    Why?

    As the head of a gang in the city, I rte deeply to the film - the story, the power dynamics, the use of magical firearms, the deaths. It portrays how dangerous gang life can be, while simultaneously making the life of a powerful mob boss seem alluring and morous.

    The film captures the duality of our world - the grit and the glory, the danger and the allure. It doesn''t shy away from the harsh realities, yet it paints our lifestyle with a seductive brush that''s hard to resist.

    I find myself drawn to the character of Don Corleone, the aging demon patriarch. His struggle to maintain power, to protect his family while navigating the treacherous waters of the underworld - it''s like looking into a mirror of my own life.

    The scenes of strategic nning, of deals made, of loyalty tested and betrayal punished - they resonate with me on a visceral level. It''s as if the director have peered into the soul of our world andid it bare on the screen.

    And yet, despite its unflinching portrayal of violence and corruption, there''s a strange beauty to it all. The cinematography, the music, the performances - they elevate our often brutal reality into something almost... poetic.

    I''ve lost count of how many times I''ve rewatched it since the festival. Each viewing reveals newyers, new details I missed before. It''s be more than just a film to me - it''s a reflection, a guide, a warning, and a celebration all at once.

    "Boss, this is all thetest newspapers featuring The Demonfather topic."

    Lost in thought, I heard my men entering, presenting me with a dozen newspapers.

    "Good work," I said with a nod, leaning back in my chair, one hand resting on the armrest while the other gently stroked my chin. My gaze was steady, almost piercing as I regarded my subordinate.

    This simple action revealed how deeply The Demonfather had influenced me. I''d begun to incorporate Michael''s demeanor and facial expressionstely, and I''d noticed my men starting to respect me more for it.

    I checked each newspaper, scanning for thetest topics about the film. It had be my perfect way to unwind from mob life, immersing myself in anything rted to The Demonfather.

    "Boss, I''ve been meaning to ask..." my subordinate hesitated, "Is there any important reason why you''re so interested in The Demonfather? Are you nning something big, inspired by the film?"

    Inwardly, I felt ufortable. There was no important reason at all for my obsession with The Demonfather. But, maintaining aposed posture and an indifferent face, I crafted an excuse:

    "The Demonfather isn''t just entertainment, it''s a study in power dynamics and strategy. Every scene, every dialogue holds lessons we can apply to our operations. I''m analyzing it to stay ahead of our rivals and strengthen our position in Fend. In our world, knowledge is power, and this film is a goldmine of insights."

    I paused, fixing my subordinate with a stern look. "Never underestimate the value of learning from others'' experiences, even if they''re fictional. Now, is there anything else you need to report?"

    My response seemed to satisfy him, and I could see a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. As he shook his head and left, I turned back to the newspapers, silently thankful that my quick thinking had turned a potential moment of weakness into an opportunity to reinforce my authority.

    As I read through each newspaper, I noticed several were criticizing "The Demonfather". I chuckled inwardly ¡ª despite being a mob boss, I understood the real reason behind these negative reviews.

    These newspapers had connections to major demon studios that failed to secure the license rights for "The Demonfather". Now, they were attempting to tarnish the film''s image out of spite andpetition.

    Besides the Lava Brothers, who had acquired the rights, studios like Demon Pictures and Underground Films were using every resource at their disposal to downy this masterpiece.

    It wasn''t just demon studios either. Human major studios that missed out on the rights were also leveraging their connections to paint a negative picture of the film in the press.

    As I pondered this, a dangerous thought crossed my mind. Perhaps I could use my gang to... persuade these newspaperpanies to reconsider their dishonest reviews. As a fan, it was infuriating to see a masterpiece unfairly maligned.

    I caught myself, realizing the extent of my obsession. Was I really considering intimidating journalists over a film review? Part of me knew it was absurd, yet another part felt it would be justified.

    I set the newspapers aside, deciding to focus on more pressing matters. But the thought lingered ¡ª in a world of power and influence, how far would I go to protect something I believed in, even if it was just a film?

 Chapter 35: Successful one day

    <h4>Chapter 35: Sessful one day</h4>

    (Amon Oblivion POV)

    I''ve always prided myself on being a filmmaker prodigy.

    Last year, my film clinched the Pure me Award at the Fend Film Festival. Several of my creations have already garnered awards, not just locally, but across different kingdoms - human, Dwarven, even Elven.

    At just 20, I''ve got demon actors moring to be in my films. Studios are falling over themselves to hire me.

    The anticipation surrounding my uing project has reached a fever pitch in the Morningstar Kingdom. The Demon Film Industry has pinned its hopes on me, with headlines proiming, "Amon Oblivion: The Savior of Our Entertainment Industry."

    I''d be lying if I said I didn''t revel in the adtion. My friends, family, and even I bought into the hype. After all, six critically acimed films speak for themselves.

    Buttely, there''s been this... disturbance.

    A new demon film has recently emerged, stirring up unprecedented excitement in the kingdom. Critics are divided - some hail it as a masterpiece, while others dismiss it as overblown and overrated.

    Initially, I paid little heed to the buzz. Another hyped film? So what? But then I read something that made my blood boil.

    It''s downright insulting to read newspapers and magazines praising this upstart director: "He is the future of our industry. Even Amon Oblivion couldn''t match him."

    The audacity! I couldn''t stomach such disrespect.

    I might have swallowed my pride if it was a veteran director or another recognized young prodigy. But when I saw who it was, my fists clenched so tight they bled.

    The filmmaker was none other than that infamous trash: Arthur Morningstar.

    He''s not even 18!

    Yet these so-called critics dare topare that garbage to me? To im I''m nothingpared to him? Unbelievable.

    It''s utterly preposterous. Yet, despite my indignation, curiosity gnaws at me. I''ve decided to subject myself to this so-called masterpiece, "The Demonfather." I need to understand how a single film could eclipse my entire body of work in the eyes of these fickle critics.

    Today, October 2, "The Demonfather" finally graced the screens of Abbadon City.

    My hometown, Monarch Town, has always been a bastion of the arts - films, novels, you name it. Growing up in this entertainment hub only fueled my pride in my work.

    I remained convinced that this so-called masterpiece by that upstart prince couldn''t hold a candle to my creations.

    My friends, family, and I chalked up the hype to its use of color - no doubt the result of that trashy prince pulling strings. But technology alone doesn''t make a great film.

    As I approached the Monarch Theatre, a familiar voice called out. "Amon. You''re here." It was Chilli, a fellow filmmaker and friend.

    I nodded in greeting as he continued, "We have a bit of a problem, Amon. Look at that line. Good thing you arrived early, or we''d be waiting for the next screening. Let''s get in queue."

    I followed his gaze, taken aback by the throng of people. Grudgingly, I fell in line with Chilli.

    "People are really curious about a colored film, huh?" I muttered, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

    Chilli nodded. "For sure. It''s like a human or elven blockbuster just hit the theatre."

    I couldn''t resist adding, "Hmph. I know for sure that the film won''t be much to talk about aside from being in color."

    "That''s for sure," Chilli agreed. "After all, it was made by that infamous prince."

    We waited impatiently to watch this much-hyped color film, and we were finally able to get a seat in the theater.

    As the theatre dimmed and the film began, a collective gasp rippled through the audience. The vibrant colors sshed across the screen were indeed impressive.

    Chilli leaned towards me, whispering, "Looks like the film industry is about to change once more."

    I nodded grudgingly. "One thing I''ll give this film credit for is the color. We''ll finally be able to film in color soon enough."

    We initially thought the color would be the film''s only notable feature, but as the story unfolded, we found ourselves drawn in deeper than we''d anticipated. The conversations around us grew more intense, mirroring the depth of the narrative.

    The film took us on an emotional journey. Laughter erupted when Don Corleone pped Johnny. Tension gripped us during Michael and Enzo''s hospital vigil. Fury boiled in our veins as Michael faced humiliation, only to be reced by a dark satisfaction when he exacted his revenge.

    To my surprise, I noticed Chilli wiping away tears at Sonny''s death. Even I found myself invested in Michael''s transformation into the new Don, feeling the weight of the family''s fate on his shoulders.

    The scene with Moe Greene''s disrespect towards Michael had the audience bristling. Then came the old Don''s death, followed by Michael''s swift and brutal consolidation of power. The final scene, with Kay watching her husband surrounded by his men as the door closed, sent a chill down my spine.

    As the credits rolled, the audience rose to their feet, apuding enthusiastically. Even Chilli stood, caught up in the moment. But I remained seated, stunned into silence.

    All the work I had taken such pride in... it suddenly felt insignificant.

    A new benchmark had emerged, one that I couldn''t confidently say any of my films could match. No, even if Ibined all my works, they still wouldn''t measure up to what I had just witnessed.

    Watching the crowd''s jubnt reaction, I felt a deep sense of defeat wash over me. Without a word to Chilli, I stood and left the theatre, needing to escape the overwhelming atmosphere.

    As I walked through the quiet lobby, the full weight of what I''d just experienced settled on me. The film''s quality, storytelling, direction - everything about it screamed ''masterpiece''. I knew, with a sinking feeling in my gut, that "The Demonfather" was destined to make history.

    It would be a blockbuster, not just in the demon realm, but worldwide. The realization hit me hard because since childhood, I had nurtured only one dream.

    Not to be a powerful demon, not to be a renowned scientist, but to create the first demon film that would achieve worldwide box office sess.

    That dream, my lifelong aspiration, was about to be fulfilled. But not by me. Instead, it would be aplished by the very person I had dismissed as a talentless upstart - the infamous prince, Arthur Morningstar.

    ***

    (Rocky POV)

    I should be at the ticket booth of my own theatre, the Fend Grand Theatre, handing out tickets to eager filmgoers. Instead, I''ve had to delegate that task to someone else. The queue wasn''t moving when I was there - too many people recognizing me, asking for autographs.

    I thought I''d gotten used to the attention after the Fend Film Festival, but recently, it''s escted to a whole new level. The autograph requests have multiplied, photographers snap pictures without my consent, and journalists hound me for interviews at every turn.

    All because of His Highness Arthur''s film. Its sess at the Fend Film Festival was just the beginning - now it''s taking the entire kingdom by storm.

    Yesterday''s box office numbers were staggering - an unprecedented 4 million dors across 1,602 theatres in the kingdom. And this despite the criticism from numerous newspapers and magazines.

    I heave a sigh, still struggling to wrap my head around the film''s massive impact. When I epted the role, I had no inkling it would lead to this. I just wanted to fulfill my childhood dream of being an actor and support Arthur''s vision.

    Now, as I watch the line snake around the block, I''m torn between pride in the film''s sess and a sense of being overwhelmed by the attention. The weight of unexpected fame sits heavily on my shoulders.

    A group of teenagers spots me through the window, their eyes lighting up with recognition. As they rush towards the entrance, no doubt seeking autographs, I retreat further into the office.

 Chapter 36: Mission Complete

    <h4>Chapter 36: Mission Complete</h4>

    (Mochi POV)

    It''s been a mere four days since "The Demonfather" shattered records, raking in an astounding 14.3 million dors. This isn''t just a triumph for demon cinema; it''s a milestone for the entire world of film.

    Never before has any movie, regardless of origin, amassed 14.3 million dors domestically in just four days. Not even the most celebrated works from humans or elves have achieved such a feat.

    Take "The Moon''s Luby," that acimed elven masterpiece. It broke records by earning 8 million dors in a week in the Moon Kingdom. But "The Demonfather"? It''s not just surpassed that benchmark; it''s obliterated it.

    The film''s momentum shows no signs of slowing. Its continuing hype throughout the Morningstar Kingdom borders on miraculous. I can only imagine the global box office figures once it starts screening worldwide.

    Yet, amidst this unprecedented sess, I find myself overwhelmed with regret.

    Why? Because I''m one of those who abandoned Hellfire Studios when news broke of Prince Arthur''s exile by his father. I wasn''t alone in my hasty decision - many of my colleagues jumped ship too.

    Now, watching "The Demonfather" break record after record, be a global phenomenon... the weight of our mistake is crushing. We can only imagine what might have been had we stayed, had we believed in Arthur''s vision.

    Every headline trumpeting the film''s sess is a bitter reminder of our short-sightedness. We let fear and uncertainty cloud our judgment, and now we''re left on the sidelines, watching others bask in the glory of what could have been our triumph too.

    Today, we found ourselves in front of Hellfire Studios, the weight of our past decisions heavy on our shoulders. As we approached, I overheard my friends'' nervous chatter.

    "You really think they''ll take us back after we bailed on them?" Zeke muttered, his tail twitching anxiously.

    Nara, always the optimist, chirped, "Hey, you never know until you try, right? What''s the worst that could happen?"

    "Oh, I don''t know," Krix groaned, running a wed hand down his face. "Maybe they''llugh us right out of the building? Ugh, I was such an idiot for leaving."

    I was about to respond when a familiar face approached us. "Well, well, what brings you lot here?" Lilith, one of the studio staff, eyed us suspiciously.

    "Lilith!" I blurted out, surprised. "I, uh... didn''t expect to see you here."

    Recognition flickered in her eyes. "Mochi? Is that really you? What in the nine hells are you doing here?"

    I swallowed hard, gathering my courage. "We were hoping... is Prince Arthur around?"

    Lilith''s eyes narrowed. "And why, pray tell, would you be looking for His Highness?"

    "Look," I said, ncing at my friends for support, "I know we messed up. But we were wondering if there''s any chance... any chance at all... that we coulde back. Or at least apply again?"

    Lilith studied us for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed. "Wait here. I''ll see if the boss is willing to hear you out. But don''t get your hopes up."

    As she disappeared into the building, we exchanged nervous nces.

    "Well," Nara whispered, "at least she didn''t set us on fire on the spot. That''s gotta be a good sign, right?"

    We chuckled weakly, the tension momentarily broken. As we waited, I couldn''t help but wonder if we were about to get a second chance or if we''d just made the biggest fools of ourselves in demon history.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    The room buzzed with excitement as we celebrated our unprecedented sess. "The Demonfather" had shattered records, and we were riding high on the triumph.

    George, my dwarven friend, was in rare form. He''d downed enough alcohol to fell a demon army, yet he was still going strong, his robust dwarven constitution on full disy.

    I raised my ss, grinning at my crew. "Indulge yourselves, my spawns! Dive into the alcohol and feast like there''s no tomorrow!" I paused for dramatic effect. "Because once this party''s over, we''re diving headfirst into our next big project!"

    A chorus of groans and cheers erupted. "You''re a ve driver, boss!" someone shouted, but the grin on their face betrayed their excitement.

    "Yeah, yeah," another chimed in, "but at least we''re ves to sess now!"

    Laughter rippled through the room. The mood was electric; we''d proven ourselves with our very first film, and everyone was eager to see what we could achieve next.

    As I was about to propose another toast, Lilith, one of our staff, approached me discreetly. "Boss," she whispered, "those employees who jumped ship when you were exiled? They''re outside, asking to see you."

    I nearly choked on my drink. "Them?" I muttered, memories of their hasty departures shing through my mind.

    "They want toe back," Lilith added, her tone neutral but her eyes questioning.

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. Of course they did. Now that we''d hit it big, they wanted a piece of the pie. "Let me guess," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "they''ve had a sudden change of heart?"

    Lilith nodded, awaiting my decision.

    I took a moment to consider, then made up my mind. "No need to see them personally. Tell them this," I leaned in, my voice low but firm. "Coming back won''t be a cakewalk. If they want to return, they''ll have to prove themselves. Our standards have... shall we say, increased dramatically since they left."

    A mischievous glint appeared in my eye. "In fact, tell them their first task is to create a short film that captures the essence of loyalty and perseverance in the face of adversity. They have one week, minimal budget, and they can''t use any professional actors. Let''s see how creative they can get when the odds are stacked against them."

    Lilith''s eyes widened slightly, but she nodded, a small smirk ying on her lips. "Understood, boss. I''ll ry the message."

    As she left, I turned back to the celebration, raising my ss once more. "To loyalty, my friends! And to those who stick around when the going gets tough!"

    The room erupted in cheers, the energy palpable. We''d climbed to the top together, and I was determined to keep this team - this family - intact as we reached for even greater heights.

    We partied hard into the night, eventually copsing in heaps across the cramped warehouse floor. The sound of collective snoring filled the air as we slept off our excesses.

    Come morning, I stirred awake, my head pounding from the night before. As I contemted the merits of investing in some demonic hangover cure, a sudden chime echoed in my mind, cutting through the fog of my headache:

    [Congrattions! Mission "Sessful Blockbuster"pleted. Reward unlocked: Computer Technologies]

    The system''s notification instantly cleared the cobwebs from my mind. A grin spread across my face as the implications sank in.

    "Oh, this is going to be fun," I muttered, my eyes gleaming with anticipation.

    I nced over at George, still passed out and snoring loudly. My grin widened as I imagined his reaction to this new development.

    "Wake up, you drunken dwarf!" I called out, kicking his foot lightly. "We''ve got some experimenting to do!"

    George groaned, burying his head deeper into his makeshift pillow. "Five more minutes, ye demon spawn..."

    I chuckled, already formting ns in my mind. Computer technology in a world of magic? The possibilities were endless.

    As I started to rouse the rest of the crew, my hangover all but forgotten, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of excitement. We''d already revolutionized cinema with "The Demonfather". Now, with this new knowledge at my fingertips, who knew what we could achieve next?

 Chapter 37: Iâ€™ll create my own style of computer

    <h4>Chapter 37: I''ll create my own style ofputer</h4>

    (George''s POV)

    My head feels like it''s been used as a dwarf''s anvil, courtesy ofst night''s overindulgence. All I want is to crawl back into bed, but Arthur''s boundless energy has other ns. He bursts in, practically vibrating with excitement.

    I recognize that look. It''s the same one he wore every day during "The Demonfather" shoot. Forcing myself to sit up, I groan, "Arthur, you look like a kid on Hellmas morning. Don''t tell me we''re jumping into another project already?"

    Arthur''s grin widens. "Right on the money, George! We''re about to embark on our next big venture."

    Klein, looking as rough as I feel, chimes in from his corner. "Boss, isn''t it a bit soon? The ink''s barely dry on ''The Demonfather'' contracts."

    Arthur chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ah, but this project isn''t for everyone. It''s just for me and George."

    The room erupts in panic. Klein''s voice rises above the rest, "What? Are you firing us, boss?"

    I frown, my hangover momentarily forgotten. "Arthur, we can''t make a film with just the two of us. And you can''t just toss these guys out on their ears."

    "Whoa, whoa!" Arthur holds up his hands,ughing. "You''ve got it all wrong. I''m not firing anyone. This isn''t about film at all. We''re talking mechanics here."

    A collective sigh of relief sweeps through the room. I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "Mechanics?"

    Arthur nods, his excitement infectious. "That''s right. I haven''t quite cracked our next film project yet, but don''t worry, we''ll get there. For now, though, I''ve got an idea that you and I can sink our teeth into."

    My curiosity gets the better of me. "What kind of idea are we talking about here?"

    Arthur''s grin turns conspiratorial. He jerks his head towards the door. "Follow me, and I''ll show you."

    As we leave the others behind and enter another room in the warehouse, I can''t help but feel a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Whatever Arthur''s cooked up, it''s bound to be interesting. And probably more than a little crazy.

    As Arthur leads me into the room, I can practically see the gears turning in his head. "So... what''s this experiment all about, Arthur?" I ask, bracing myself for whatever wild idea he''s cooked up this time.

    He shes that mysterious smile of his, the one that usually precedes something either brilliant or disastrous. "George... have you ever wondered if aplex mathematical problem could be solved by a machine?"

    I blink, suddenly realizing where he''s going with this. "Oh, you want to experiment with aputing machine? But why? The famous dwarf Mustasho Ward already built the Ward Engine. Isn''t that enough?"

    Arthurughs, shaking his head. "Yes, of course. But those machines are so limited. And programming them with punch cards is a nightmare." His eyes gleam with excitement as he continues, "What if we could develop a machine that could do more, calcte faster, store more data, and solve moreplex problems, all with less effort to instruct it?"

    I stare at him, wondering if the sess has finally cracked that brilliant mind of his. "That''s impossible, Arthur. And even if it weren''t, it would take an impossible amount of time to develop such a machine."

    "Ah, that''s where you''re wrong, my friend," he says, patting me on the shoulder. "You have me. I have the genius brain to create a machine that could automate tasks, solveplex problems, and do much more that will revolutionize the world!"

    I can''t help but look at him like he''s grown a second head. "Has all this overnight sess gone to your head? Are you feeling alright?"

    But Arthur justughs off my concern, already rummaging through electronic equipment with the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store.

    I sigh, sending up a silent prayer. Great Forgefather, please keep an eye on my friend here. Make sure his mental health is intact and that sess hasn''tpletely derailed his sanity.

    As I watch Arthur excitedly pulling out wires andponents, I can''t help but feel a mix of worry and excitement. Part of me thinks he''s lost his mind, but another part... well, another part can''t help but wonder: what if he''s right? What if we could create something that revolutionary?

    I shake my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips. "Alright, Arthur. I''m probably going to regret this, but... where do we start?"

    ***

    (Arthur''s POV)

    As the flood ofputer knowledge settles into my brain, I realize just how naive my initial expectations were. It''s like trying to drink from a firehose - overwhelming, but exhrating.

    I thought inheriting puter knowledge" meant I''d suddenly be able to program in easy, human-readablenguages, instructing machines as if by magic. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening.

    The truth is far moreplex and, in a way, more exciting. I''vee to understand that instructing a machine is really up to me. There''s no need to strictly adhere to punch cards or low-levelnguages - not yet, anyway.

    Take a simple machine designed to perform specific sequences. I could instruct it through physical means, like pushing buttons, or go the Ward Engine route with punch cards. The engine would read these cards and execute specific sequence patterns, much like a Jacquard loom.

    The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. With this newputer knowledge, I have the freedom to innovate beyond what I initially imagined.

    It''s not about following a predetermined path of technological evolution - I can forge my own.

    The possibilities are endless. While this world has its Ward Engine and my old world had its Analytical Engine, Difference Engine, and Harvard Mark I, I''m not bound by their limitations or methodologies.

    Who says I need to stick to punch cards or traditional input methods?

    My mind races with potential alternatives. What if I create aputing machine that uses film strips instead? It could perform specific sequence patterns and functions, solve problems, and store memories, all through this unconventional medium.

    Sure, film strips might be more expensive than punch cards, but there could be cheaper variants. I could develop a method to encode binary data on these strips using a rolling machine, then feed them into myputer to perform specific tasks.

    And then there''s the magic of this world - an element that opens up even more exciting possibilities. Spells thatmand fire, ice, wind... what if I could harness these forputation? I could potentially create a machine that responds to magical inputs, blending technology and sorcery in ways never before imagined.

    The more I think about it, the more excited I be.

    As I set up the equipment for our experiments, my mind races with possibilities. Using film strips as an input method isn''t just a random choice. If I can pull this off, it could revolutionize the film industry itself. Imagine aputer machine that could edit films more efficiently, solvingplex editing problems, automating tedious tasks, and even suggesting creative cuts. It''s a filmmaker''s dreame true.

    I exin my vision to George, watching his expression shift from skepticism to cautious interest.

    "You have a more interesting concept than I thought..." George nods, stroking his beard. But then he adds, "But I don''t think we''ll be able to do it without knowledge. Sure, you have an idea, but do you have the know-how to follow through?"

    I can''t help but chuckle. If only he knew about the wealth ofputer knowledge I''ve suddenly acquired. But I can''t exactly tell him about my magical reward system, can I?

    Instead, I opt for a confident smile. "Just trust me, George. I''m not a prince director for nothing."

    George snorts, shaking his head. "Yeah, but the media calls you a prince director because of ''The Demonfather''. That doesn''t mean you have a genius mind for machines."

    His words sting a bit, but I can''t fault his logic. From his perspective, I''m a filmmaker who''s suddenly decided to revolutionizeputing. It does sound a bit far-fetched.

 Chapter 38: Next possible Project and Redemption film

    <h4>Chapter 38: Next possible Project and Redemption film</h4>

    (Arthur''s POV)

    A week has flown by since George and I started ourputing machine experiments. I''ve been stockpiling cheap film strips, ready to be encoded with binary. It''s exciting progress, but that''s not the only iron I have in the fire.

    Between tinkering sessions, I''ve been hammering out a script for our next film project. Thanks to the Entertainment Shop, I''ve acquired the story of "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" in full detail. It''s a far cry from "The Demonfather," which I could only recreate from my admittedly impressive memory of my favorite film. Now, I have the luxury of aplete blueprint to work from.

    Of course, this isn''t Earth, and a straight adaptation wouldn''t fly. I''ve been tweaking the story to fit our magical, multi-racial world. The three main characters are now a gruff demon bounty hunter, a cunning elven ouw, and a ruthless dwarven mercenary. The setting? The Empirican Frontier Age - a period in Empirica''s history that mirrors the Wild West,plete withwless towns, rival factions, and the sh between old magic and new technology.

    It''s a massive undertaking, but I''m not worried about the logistics. The box office returns from "The Demonfather" in just the Morningstar Kingdom have been substantial. I can only imagine how the numbers will skyrocket once the global returns start rolling in.

    As I delve deeper into the script, I realize how perfectly this story will resonate with the people of this world, especially the Empiricans.

    Their own Frontier Age was rife with ouws and rival factions, mirroring the Wild West in many ways. There''s even a precedent for demon bounty hunters in Empirica''s history - outcasts who turned to the profession to survive.

    It''s a narrative that''s both familiar and fresh, a perfect blend of the known and the exotic. The human films depicting their frontier age have always been popr here, but this? This will be something else entirely.

    An hour into my writing session, Lilith bursts into the studio, interrupting my flow. "Boss, those ex-employees are here. They''ve already created a film."

    I blink, surprised. I hadn''t expected them to actually follow through. "Let them in," I say, curiosity piqued.

    The group files in, looking nervous. I cut straight to the chase. "Now... Where''s the film?"

    A young man steps forward, holding out a reel of film strips. "This is the film," he says, his voice a mix of pride and apprehension.

    I raise an eyebrow. "You are?"

    "I''m Mochi, boss. I''m the one that directed the film."

    I nod, considering. "Don''t call me boss yet," I caution him. "We wouldn''t know for sure if I''ll be your boss or notter. Your film will decide it."

    Mochi nods, understanding the stakes. "Understood."

    As I take the film reel, I can''t help but feel a surge of curiosity.

    If these ex-employees have managed to create something worthwhile, it could be the start of a whole new Chapter for Hellfire Studios.

    But first things first. I need to see what they''ve created.

    "Alright," I say, turning to Lilith. "Get the projector ready. Let''s see what our aspiring filmmakers havee up with."

    As we set up for the screening, I can feel the tension in the room. These young demons have put their hearts and souls into this film, hoping for a second chance. And me? I''m hoping for a pleasant surprise.

    As the projector whirs to life and the ck-and-white images flicker onto the screen, I can''t help but chuckle inwardly. The "actors" are none other than Mochi and his colleagues themselves. Their desperation to return to the studio is palpable, etched in every frame.

    The story unfolds - a ssic mob tale. The protagonist, Louis, yed by Mochi himself, is betrayed by a friend. What follows is a gritty journey of revenge and ascension through the ranks of the demon underworld.

    As the film progresses, I find myself pleasantly surprised. For a group of amateurs working with limited resources, they''ve managed to craft something... intriguing.

    The cinematography is rough but shows potential, and there''s a raw energy to the performances that''s oddlypelling.

    I nce around the room, noting the tension in Mochi and his friends'' faces as they watch my reaction. They''ve poured their hearts into this, that much is clear.

    It''s impressive, really. Out of the 30 who left, these 10 were the ones who swallowed their pride, pushed past the embarrassment, and actually created something. While the others moved on or wallowed in regret, this group took action.

    The film concludes with a bittersweet resolution. Louis, having triumphed over his adversities, faces his betrayer.

    The friend seeks forgiveness, but Louis, while granting it, makes it clear that the betrayal has permanently altered their rtionship. It''s a nuanced ending, more mature than I expected.

    As the final frame fades to ck, the room falls into silence. There''s no soundtrack, no flourish - just the quiet whir of the projector winding down. I remain quiet, mulling over what I''ve just seen.

    Mochi and hispanions fidget nervously, their eyes darting between me and each other. The tension in the room is palpable.

    Finally, I break the silence with a chuckle. "It''s impressive that you''ve made this film in a week. The dedication and skills you''ve demonstrated are... noteworthy."

    I can see hope blooming in their eyes, but I''m not done yet. "However..." I pause, watching as their expressions shift from hope to anxiety.

    I continue, my face serious, "I''m not sure if this is enough to warrant rehiring you all."

    Their faces fall, disappointment etched in every line. But I''m not finished.

    "After all," I say, struggling to keep a straight face, "how do I know you won''t run off and start a rival studio with these skills of yours?"

    The look of sheer panic on their faces is almostical. I can''t keep up the charade any longer and break into a grin.

    "I''m joking, of course. You''re hired."

    The relief that washes over them is immediately reced by joy. They start to cheer, but I hold up a hand to silence them.

    "But let me be clear," I say, my tone serious once more. "This is your second chance. There won''t be a third. I expect dedication, hard work, and loyalty. Understood?"

    They nod vigorously, gratitude shining in their eyes.

    I allow myself a small smile as I watch their eager faces. "Good," I nod, then add, "But understand this - you''re not stepping back into your old roles. You''ll need to work your way up again."

    Mochi, eyes glistening with tears of relief, nods vigorously. "We''ll do our best, boss! You won''t regret this!"

    "Alright, go on then. Your colleagues are waiting," I say, gesturing towards the door.

    As they file out, chattering excitedly amongst themselves, I can''t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Their gratitude is palpable, and I know it will trante into loyalty and hard work. It''s not just about their skills or the film they made - it''s about the dedication they''ll bring now that they''ve been given a second chance.

    Of course, if they do decide to leave again... well, let''s just say the best revenge is sess. And I intend to be very, very sessful.

    Shaking off these thoughts, I head back to the room where George and I have been working on ourputing machine. We''ve made significant progress - our optical reader for the film strips is functioning, and we''re in the process of developing the functions and sequence patterns that will form the core of our prototypeputer.

    It''s an unconventional approach, using film strips for input instead of punch cards or maic tape. But that''s what makes it exciting.

    And our output method? We''re bypassing traditional printers in favor of projectors.

 Chapter 39: Computer

    <h4>Chapter 39: Computer</h4>

    (Eric Roosevelt POV)

    October 10th. The day has finally arrived. "The Demonfather," the film I acquired from the Fend Film Festival, is set to be screened across Empirica. My heart''s racing with anticipation.

    I can''t help but feel excited. If this film does well, it could mean a promotion for me. The thought makes my palms sweat.

    Working for Bryan Brothers has its challenges, especially when ites to the executives. They were skeptical at first when I pushed to acquire the film for 1.5 million dors, not to mention agreeing to share a significant portion of the box office with Hellfire Studios. But their tune changed after I showed them the film.

    I still remember the conversation from a few days ago. One of them said, "You know, this film actually has a chance to turn a profit. It''s the best I''ve watched in a while. Never expected this from a demon picture."

    Another chimed in, "I agree. It''s just a shame we won''t profit as much because Eric gave away too much to that Hellfire Studios."

    I had to defend my decision. "If I hadn''t made that offer, that ex-prince wouldn''t have agreed to the deal," I argued.

    At the time, the executives seemed to believe the film would profit, but they still thought we''d given too much to a fledgling demon studio.

    But then everything changed. News broke that "The Demonfather" was performing exceptionally well at the box office in the demon realm. Suddenly, the executives were just as excited as I was about the film''s potential here in Empirica.

    Later that day, as "The Demonfather" finally screened nationwide across Empirica, the studio and I were on pins and needles. We had high hopes, but the reality of the first day''s box office hit us like a bucket of cold water.

    576 thousand dors. That''s all we managed to pull in.

    I stared at the numbers, my heart sinking. "This can''t be right," I muttered.

    One of my colleagues, Lara, peered over my shoulder. "It''s... not terrible," she offered weakly.

    I shook my head. "It''s average at best. We were expecting so much more." I couldn''t help but think of the film''s performance in the Morningstar Kingdom - 4 million on its first day. This was a far cry from that sess.

    "Damn it," I growled, mming my fist on the desk. "It''s those sted newspapers and magazines. Their criticism is killing us."

    As if to prove my point, the second day brought a flood of smug articles celebrating the film''s mediocre performance. I could practically hear the critics gloating.

    Pacing in my office, I couldn''t shake my frustration. "This film is brilliant," I said to no one in particr. "Every Empirican should see it. They just don''t understand what they''re missing."

    A knock at my door interrupted my brooding. It was Robert, one of the executives.

    "Eric," he said, his face unreadable. "We need to talk about these numbers."

    I swallowed hard. This was it. My career was over. "Sir, I can exin-"

    He held up a hand, silencing me. "Let''s wait for the second day''s numbers before we make any decisions."

    I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As he left, I slumped into my chair. I''d staked everything on this film. If it didn''t turn around, I was done for.

    The next day, I dragged myself to the office, bracing for the worst. I expected the numbers to drop even further, maybe to 400k or less.

    But when I saw the figures, I had to do a double-take. 6 million dors? I blinked, sure I was seeing things.

    "This... this can''t be right," I stammered.

    Lara burst into my office, her eyes wide. "Eric! Have you seen-"

    "The numbers? Yeah," I nodded, still in shock. "How is this possible? How did we jump from 500k to 6 million in a day?"

    ***

    (Random Empirican POV)

    I''m just your average Empirican, really. Sure, I''m a mage, but my job''s nothing fancy - just message and item delivery. I hop in my car, summon my spirit pet (an owl, if you''re curious), and send it off to deliver messages or items through tower windows. Once the job''s done, my feathered friend flies back, and that''s that.

    After work, I like to unwind. Sometimes that means catching a film at the local theater. Today, a new title caught my eye - a demon film called "The Demonfather". I''ll admit, I was intrigued.

    Not because I thought it''d be good, mind you. It was more about the buzz I''d been hearing. The newspapers have been going wild about ittely. A few sang its praises, but most tore it to shreds, calling it the worst film ever made. That alone was enough to pique my interest. How bad could it really be?

    But then I saw something that really got me thinking. Dianne James, that notoriously hard-to-please critic, gave it a full 5 stars. Now that was puzzling. This is the same critic known for being stingier with stars than a miser with gold coins. How in the name of all that''s magical could a demon film earn top marks from her?

    If it was so awful that most critics were ready to retch, why did James rate it so highly? And let''s not forget, it shattered box office records in the Morningstar Kingdom. Something didn''t add up, and I was determined to find out what.

    So here I am on opening day, settling into my seat. Looks like I''m not the only curious one - the theater''s packed. As the lights dim, there''s a palpable sense of anticipation in the air.

    What followed was... unexpected, to say the least. From the moment the film started, I was pulled into the story. The characters felt real, their struggles visceral. I found myself invested in Sonny''s hot-headed antics, Don Vito''s quiet power, and Michael''s transformation.

    The highs were exhrating - I cheered along with everyone else when Michael took out his enemies. The lows hit hard - Sonny''s death left a pit in my stomach. And don''t even get me started on Carlo. When he finally got hiseuppance, the whole theater erupted in apuse. It was cathartic, to say the least.

    But it wasn''t all action and revenge. There were moments that chilled me to the bone. Like when Michael spoke to Kay, his words dripping with cold certainty: "Don''t ask me about my business, Kay." Or that line that''s still echoing in my head: "Don''t tell me you''re innocent, because it insults my intelligence."

    As I left the theater, my mind was reeling. I couldn''t wait to tell my friends and family about it. Whatever those critics were thinking, they clearly missed the mark. "The Demonfather" isn''t just a film - it''s an experience, one that I won''t soon forget.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    I''ve lost track of how many days George and I have been cooped up in this makeshiftb, tinkering with ourputer prototype. The floor is littered with discarded film strips, and the air is thick with the smell of burnt celluloid and coffee. But today, all those sleepless nights finally paid off.

    "George!" I called out, my voice cracking with excitement. "Get over here! I think we''ve got it!"

    George lumbered over, his beard stained with what I hoped was just coffee. "What''s all the fuss about, Arthur? Did you set something on fire again?"

    I rolled my eyes. "That was one time, and it was your fault for leaving that potion so close to the light sensor." I gestured towards our contraption. "Look, I think we''ve finally got it working."

    Ourputer was a sight to behold - a Frankenstein''s monster of film projectors, light sensors, and enough gears to make a clockmaker weep. The light sensor, simr to those photomultiplier tubes that already exist, was the key to detecting the encoded film strips.

    "Okay, here goes nothing," I muttered, feeding a strip of film into the machine. On it, I''d encoded a simple math problem: 2x2. The ck portions represented 0, the white 1 - a rudimentary binary code.

    George leaned in, his breath hot on my neck. "You really think this contraption can do math?"

    "If I''m right, it should. The film strip allows for higher density data storage than punch cards. We can encode more information in a smaller space."

    The machine whirred to life, the film strip zipping past the light sensor faster than the eye could follow. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest.

    Suddenly, the connected projector flickered. Numbers appeared on the wall, glowing ethereally in the dimb.

    2 x 2 = 4

    I let out a whoop of joy, grabbing George in a bear hug. "We did it! It works!"

    Georgeughed, his initial skepticism melting away. "Well, I''ll be a goblin''s uncle. It actually works!"

    We stood there for a moment, grinning like idiots at the simple equation projected on the wall. It wasn''t much - just a basic calction - but it represented so much more. It was proof of concept, a glimpse into a future where machines could think, could calcte, could maybe even create.

 Chapter 40: Overwhleming

    <h4>Chapter 40: Overwhleming</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I can''t help but grin as I look at theputer before me. It''s not much to look at - a jumble of gears, film strips, and projectors that would probably give any self-respecting engineer a heart attack. But to me, it''s beautiful. It''s the future.

    After hours of rigorous testing, I''m impressed by what this machine can do. Its memory capacity is substantial, thanks to the high-density storage capabilities of the film strips. It can performplex calctions, sure, but what really sets it apart is its ability to execute specialized film editing programs.

    Thisputer can automatically detect scene changes, analyze frameposition, and even trace optimal cut points based on pre-programmed criteria.

    It''s capable of basic color correction and can automate the tedious process of syncing audio with video. The machine can handle hours of footage, categorizing and organizing scenes far faster than any human editor could.

    It''s truly promising. With just a bit more tinkering, I believe it could revolutionize our entire editing process. Imagine being able to input raw footage and have theputer generate a rough cut based on our predefined parameters.

    It could potentially reduce weeks of editing work down to days.

    Thisputer is specifically designed for editing. I made this choice deliberately, knowing that editing has always been a pain in the ass for me. By focusing on this one aspect of filmmaking, we''ve created a specialized tool that could change the game entirely.

    So this firstputer is all about film editing. It''s streamlined, efficient, and exactly what we need at this stage. But I''m already thinking ahead. The nextputer I n to make will indeed have a keyboard for input and use a projector as a screen. With that, I might be able to produce a simple operating system, maybe even create some basic games or other applications.

    Developing this secondputer isn''t going to be a walk in the park.

    I can already feel a headacheing on just thinking about it. We''re going to have to experiment with alternative materials, and who knows if that''ll go spectacrly right or horribly wrong.

    And don''t even get me started on tranting binary code into a lessplicated assemblynguage. It''s not just about writing code; I need to develop entireputer architectures. Each set of hardware will need its own unique machine code, and the assemblynguage has to be designed around that. It''s like trying to invent a newnguage while simultaneously building the mouth to speak it.

    Even with all theputer knowledge I''ve inherited, it''s enough to make my brain hurt. I find myself massaging my temples more often these days, trying to ward off the impending migraine thates with contemting the sheer magnitude of what I''m trying to aplish.

    Programming in binary code is already a nightmare. Sure, I can do it without errors thanks to my knowledge, which is why I can confidently program our prototype to edit films.

    But it''s still abor-intensive process that makes me want to tear my hair out sometimes.

    For now, our firstputer will have to serve as our temporary editor. The downside? I''m pretty much the only one who can code in binary perfectly to instruct it.

    George can code too, but he''s not as... well, perfect as me. One small mistake could ruin the entire program, and in the worst-case scenario, it could destroy the film we''re trying to edit.

    It''s a big risk. Only those who know binary code can use it, and even then, one error could send hours of work down the drain. We might be working with copies of the films, but even that feels wasteful.

    But we don''t have much choice. It''ll have to do for now. Developing a more advancedputer - one that I''d actually call a puter" with pride - is going to take time. We''re talking about coding each set of hardware, designing assemblynguage around thoseponents... it''s a massive undertaking.

    Being realistic, even with my knowledge and George''s help, we''re looking at a few months of work. And that''s assuming we''re working on it full-time, which we''re not. We''ve got films to make, after all. Thisputer development is just a side project for now.

    I''m hunched over my desk, tinkering with some circuits when Klein bursts into the room, practically vibrating with excitement.

    "Boss!" he exims, waving a piece of paper. "You won''t believe this!"

    I look up, raising an eyebrow. "What is it, Klein? Did George set something on fire again?"

    Klein shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. "It''s about ''The Demonfather''. The international box office numbers are in."

    Now he''s got my full attention. I''d almost forgotten about the international release in the chaos of our recent projects.

    "Well, don''t keep me in suspense," I say, setting down my tools. "How bad is it?"

    Klein''s grin, if possible, gets even wider. "Bad? Boss, it''s incredible! We''ve made about 11 million in just two days of screening in Empirica, the Moon Kingdom in the Evros region, and the Southern Archipgo, Nesia and Tiger kingdoms in South Anatolia!"

    I nearly choke on my drink. "Eleven million? In two days?"

    Klein nods enthusiastically. "Yes, and get this - we''re doing even better in Empirica than we did here!"

    I lean back in my chair, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Well, I''ll be damned. This is good... This is very good."

    As the implications sink in, my mind starts racing.

    "This is good..." I couldn''t help but smile wider as the realization sank in. With the growing sess of "The Demonfather," ourpany''s coffers were swelling. And that meant more resources for my pet project - theputer.

    As I leaned back in my chair, a thought struck me. Maybe it was time to think bigger. Hiring professionals who knew their way around binary code andputing machines could really speed things up. It was a tempting idea, especially considering how undervalued those skills were in this world.

    I chuckled to myself, imagining the reactions of the magic-obsessed masses. In a world where everyone was busy hurling fireballs or perfecting their sword techniques, the idea of pursuingputing was seen as a waste of time. Even the more practical types were all about mechanical skills or craftsmanship. The dwarves, with their powerful guns and cannons, were the pinnacle of technological achievement as far as most people were concerned.

    But I knew better. Those "wasted" skills could be the key to revolutionizing everything.

    Shaking my head to clear it of daydreams, I turned to Klein. "Alright," I said, pushing aside my grandiose ns for the moment. "Let''s work on our next project."

    Klein nodded, and I couldn''t help but notice the extra spring in his step. It wasn''t just him, either. The whole team seemed to be riding high on our recent sess. There was an energy in the air, a palpable excitement that hadn''t been there before. They''d tasted sess, seen their hard work pay off in spectacr fashion, and now they were hungry for more.

    I smiled to myself as I watched them bustling about, chattering excitedly among themselves. This was exactly what we needed. For our next project, we''d have to give it our all. Every ounce of creativity, every drop of sweat would be crucial.

    After all, the more sessful our next film was, the more funds I''d have forputer development. It was all connected, each sess building on thest, pushing us further into uncharted territory.

    I made my way to the main studio floor, where my team was huddled in small groups, chattering excitedly. As soon as they spotted me, a hush fell over the room. All eyes turned to me, eager and expectant.

    I cleared my throat, feeling a mixture of pride and nervousness. "Alright, guys," I began, looking at each face in turn. "Now that you''ve seen the sess of our first film, we can''t afford to rest on oururels. We need to keep this momentum going. We must ride this wave and turn it into a tsunami!"

    A puzzled look crossed several faces. Then, one of the crew members, a young demon with particrly pointy ears, raised his hand tentatively. "Uh, boss... What''s a tsunami?"

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. Sometimes I forgot that my knowledge from my past life didn''t always trante. "Good question," I said, nodding appreciatively. "A tsunami is a word from Japon in the East Watch. It describes a massive wave, bigger than you can imagine, that can sweep away entire cities."

    A chorus of "Ohhs" and nods rippled through the group.

    I smiled. Good thing that there is an alternate country for Japan here in this world, just like how America became Empirica and other nations have their counterparts. The existence of Japon in the East Watch,plete with their word "tsunami," was a convenient coincidence that made exining certain concepts much easier. It was moments like these that made me appreciate the strange parallels between this world and my previous one.

    "So," I continued, my voice rising with excitement, "are you ready to create our next masterpiece? To make a film so incredible, so groundbreaking, that it''ll sweep across the world like a tsunami, leaving everyone in awe?"

    The team leaned in, their eyes shining with anticipation.

    "Our next project," I announced, pausing for dramatic effect, "will be ''The Good, The Bad and the Ugly.'' It''s a story of three men - a demon, an elf, and a dwarf - caught in a web of greed, deception, and unlikely alliances. Set against the backdrop of the Empirican Frontier Age, it''ll be a tale of moral ambiguity, survival, and the blurred lines between hero and viin."

 Chapter 41: Solution

    <h4>Chapter 41: Solution</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples as I tried to ward off an impending headache.

    nning this next film was proving to be more challenging than I''d anticipated.

    "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly" needed a specific kind of backdrop - something reminiscent of Empirica''s Frontier Age. We needed vast, dusty ins, craggy mountains, and sun-baked towns that looked like they''d sprouted from the very earth. The kind of ce where you could almost taste thewlessness in the air, where the line between hero and ouw blurred like a mirage on the horizon.

    I''d thought about using the Ashen ins again, but... no. It wasn''t even close to what we needed.

    My team had been working tirelessly, going through the proper channels to get permission to film in Empirica itself. But after days of back-and-forth, mountains of paperwork, and enough ass-kissing to make my jaw ache, we got our answer: a resounding "no."

    I sighed, the weight of rejection settling on my shoulders. Deep down, I''d known this would happen. The government of Empirica, steeped in their Srus faith, hated me. The sess of "The Demonfather" had only made things worse.

    Speaking of which, I couldn''t help but chuckle bitterly as I recalled thetest batch of magazines and newspapers I''d read. The headlines were getting more hysterical by the day:

    "''Demonfather'' Poprity in Empirica rming - Government Considers Ban"

    "Srus Faith Leaders Condemn ''sphemous'' Demon Film"

    "Is ''The Demonfather'' Corrupting Our Youth?"

    I shook my head, remembering some of the more... creative criticism. One particrly spiteful article had dered, "The Demonfather is surely Arthur Morningstar''s first andst sess. A one-hit wonder if ever there was one."

    Even some demon newspapers and magazines were jumping on the bandwagon, eager to predict my downfall.

    Part of me wanted tough. Another part wanted to scream. But mostly, I felt a deep, burning determination. They thought "The Demonfather" was a fluke? They thought I couldn''t do it again?

    I''d show them. We''d find a way to make this film, with or without Empirica''s blessing.

    I paced back and forth, my mind racing. How could we create the perfect backdrop for our project? The Ashen ins were close, but not quite there. We needed something more... controble.

    Suddenly, it hit me like a ton of bricks. A big studio. No, scratch that - a massive studio.

    The Ashen ins couldn''tpletely capture what I had in mind, but what if we could build our own interior sets? We could design every establishment, every dusty street corner to match the vision in my head. We''d still use the Ashen ins for some exterior shots - there were a few spots that were pretty close to what we needed - but the bulk of our filming could be done in a controlled environment.

    It would be a mix of interior and exterior filming. And now, with me having millions of dors scattered across various banks in the kingdom, we could actually pull this off.

    Energized by the idea, I stood up and looked over at my team. They were huddled in small groups, deep in discussion about our predicament. Time to shake things up.

    I pped my hands sharply. "Guys, hear me out for a sec."

    Heads turned, conversations died down. All eyes were on me, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in their gazes.

    I took a deep breath. "I''ve got an idea. It''s a bit... out there, but I think it could work." I paused for effect, then dropped the bomb. "We''re going to buy a massive unused building in the city and convert it into our very own studio."

    For a moment, there was silence. Then the room erupted.

    "A whole building?" George sputtered, his beard quivering in disbelief.

    "Our own studio?" Klein''s eyes were as wide as saucers.

    Lilith, ever practical, cut through the chatter. "Boss, that''s... that''s a huge undertaking. Are you sure we can pull it off?"

    I nodded, a grin spreading across my face. "I know it sounds crazy, but think about it. We''d haveplete control over our sets. We could build exactly what we need, down to thest detail."

    I could see the idea starting to take hold. The initial shock was wearing off, reced by excitement and possibility.

    "We''ve got the funds now," I continued, warming to my theme. "We can make this happen. Just imagine - Hellfire Studios, with its own massive production space. We''d be the envy of every filmmaker in the kingdom."

    The energy in the room was palpable now. My team was buzzing with ideas, already discussing potential locations and set designs.

    I held up my hands, calling for quiet. "I know it''s a big step. It''ll be a lot of work. But I believe in us. We made ''The Demonfather'' with scraps and determination. Just think what we can do with real resources."

    As I looked around at my team, I saw nods of agreement, eyes shining with excitement. We were in this together, ready to take on the world.

    Riding the wave of enthusiasm, I decided to strike while the iron was hot. "Alright," I said, pping my hands together. "Time to put this n into action. I need you all to scout for a massive building we can convert. Think big - maybe a grand theatre that''s fallen on hard times, or better yet, an unused arena."

    I could see confusion on some faces, so I borated. "You know, one of those big arenas they use for those shy martial arts tournaments or magical duels."

    A chorus of "Ohhs" rippled through the group as understanding dawned.

    "You mean like the Crimson Colosseum?" Lilith piped up. "Where they host the Annual Sword and Sorcery Spectacr?"

    I nodded, a grin spreading across my face. "That''s right! Those kinds of ces."

    For those who didn''t grow up in this world, these arenas were a big deal. They hosted everything from knightly sword-fighting tournaments to high-stakes magical duels. It''s like a cross between a Roman diator arena and a modern-day sports stadium, but with more fireballs and flying swords.

    In these events, knights would sh in spectacr sword fights, their enchanted des ringing out as they connected. Mages would face off in spell-slingingpetitions, trying to outdo each other with increasingly potent and shy magic. It was a spectacle of skill, strength, and arcane power that never failed to draw massive crowds.

    "These events are hugely popr," I continued, "but there might be some older arenas out there that have fallen out of use. Maybe they''re too small for the big leagues now, or they''re in need of repairs. That''s what we''re looking for - something with good bones that we can reshape to fit our needs."

    I could see the wheels turning in my team''s heads. They were starting to envision the possibilities.

    "Now, I know it sounds like a tall order," I admitted, "but think about it. These ces are already designed to amodaterge crowds and host spectacr events. With some renovations, we could turn one into the perfect film studio."

    George scratched his beard thoughtfully. "We''d need to build sets, install lighting rigs..."

    "Exactly," I nodded. "But we''d have the space to do it all. We could create our own little world inside those walls."

    Klein''s eyes lit up. "We could even use some of the existing structures! Like, if there''s a VIP box, we could turn that into a saloon for our frontier town!"

    I pointed at him, grinning. "Now you''re getting it! That''s the kind of creative thinking we need."

    The excitement in the room was palpable now. Everyone was chattering, throwing out ideas and suggestions.

    I held up my hands for quiet. "Alright, alright. Let''s not get ahead of ourselves. First things first - we need to find this ce. So, I want you all to start scouting. Check out every unused building, every old arena, every structure that might fit the bill. Talk to real estate agents, chat up locals, follow every lead you can find."

 Chapter 42: The Demonfather positive effect to kingdomâ€™s economy

    <h4>Chapter 42: The Demonfather positive effect to kingdom''s economy</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Two days and a small forter, I found myself buried under a mountain of photographs. I''d sent out a small army of photographers to capture every unused arena and theater in the city. Now, surrounded by their work, I was beginning to wonder if I''d bitten off more than I could chew.

    Most of the options were... less than ideal, to put it mildly. Some were too small, barely able to fit a decent-sized set, let alone all the equipment we''d need. Others were in such a state of disrepair that renovating them would cost more than building from scratch. A few were architecturally impressive butpletely impractical for our needs - all style and no substance, like a pompous noble with an empty head.

    I tossed aside another stack of photos with a sigh. This was starting to feel like a wild goose chase.

    But then, buried beneath a pile of disappointing prospects, I found it. An arena just on the outskirts of the cheap district, not far from where we were now. It was massive, with sweeping arches and enough space to build a small vige inside. The structure was sound, if a bit weathered. It was perfect.

    Curious, I dug deeper into its history. Turns out, this ce used to be quite famous back in the day. The magazines had covered it extensively - not for its grand battles or spectacr events, but for its... specter residents.

    That''s right. The ce was supposedly haunted.

    I couldn''t help butugh. Even demons, creatures of darkness and chaos, were spooked by a few measly ghosts.

    But their loss was my gain. Because of its spooky reputation, the arena was going for a mere 200,000 dors. Compared to the other options, which were selling for upwards of half a million or more, it was a steal.

    My mind made up, I gathered the crew to share the news. "Ladies, gentlemen, and assorted creatures of the night," I announced, holding up the photo of our soon-to-be studio space, "I give you the newest addition to Hellfire Studios!"

    The reactions were... mixed, to say the least. There was excitement, sure, but also more than a few nervous nces and muttered concerns about restless spirits.

    I waved off their worries. "Ghosts, demons, what''s the difference? We''re making movie here. A few spooks will just add to the ambiance."

    And so, with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, we set off to im our new domain.

    Standing before the arena, I had to admit, the ce had a certain gloomy charm. A chill ran down my spine as we approached, but I shrugged it off with a grin. "Look on the bright side," I quipped to no one in particr, "free air conditioning."

    As we stepped inside, the sheer scale of the ce took our breath away. Massive stone arches soared overhead, and the arena floor stretched out before us like a nk canvas, just waiting for our creative touch.

    Sure, there were cobwebs in the corners and the air was thick with dust and who-knows-what-else. But all I could see was potential.

    Standing in the middle of our newly acquired arena, I couldn''t help but grin. Sure, it looked like a disaster zone now, but in my mind''s eye, I could already see the transformation.

    The ce was a mess, no doubt about it, but I could see its potential. The renovation would be a massive undertaking - we''re talking millions of dors and at least two months of work, if we''re lucky. But it would be worth it.

    This studio wouldn''t just be for "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly." No, I had much bigger ns. The beauty of this space would be its flexibility. In this world of magic, we had opportunities that filmmakers in my past life could only dream of.

    I''d already acquired the architectural designs from the system, and they were something else. We''re talking about a studio equipped with magical enhancements that would make even the most advanced CGI look like child''s y.

    Illusion artifacts could create any backdrop we needed, changing our sets in the blink of an eye. With these, we could conjure up entirendscapes - water, mountains, sky, forests - all with the flick of a switch.

    For scenes that require a sky, we use the open arena to take advantage of the natural backdrop. If the scene needs to be set during a specific time, like day or night, that doesn''t match the current conditions, we can easily adjust it. But for everything else - distantndscapes, fantastical environments, or even just to extend our sets beyond the physical constraints of the arena.

    There was a catch, of course. There''s always a catch.

    The illusions, impressive as they were, had their limitations. We''d need to carefully match the physical ground to the illusory backgrounds, a task that would require no small amount of skill and resources. And then there were the magic cores that powered these artifacts. Those didn''te cheap. In fact, they were downright expensive.

    I grimaced, mentally tallying up the costs. The initial renovation was just the beginning. Maintaining this technological marvel would be an ongoing drain on our resources. We''d be burning through magic cores like there was no tomorrow, each one eating into our bottom line.

    No other studio - human, elven, or dwarven - would risk this much. They were content with their painted backdrops and practical effects. But then again, they were still thinking in ck and white. We were moving into color, and that changed everything.

    At the same time, maybe I needed to put "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly" on hold for now. With the studio under renovation, it might be smarter to focus on a project we could film without these fancy new facilities.

    I found myself scrolling through the Entertainment Shop, looking for stories. We needed something that would keep us in the public eye and, more importantly, keep the money flowing while we waited for our magical studio to be ready. Something that wouldn''t require the expensive illusions we were investing in.

    ***

    (Lucy Morningstar POV)

    Being the eldest princess of the royal Morningstar familyes with its fair share of responsibilities. Between my duties overseeing tourism and economic development and my studies at the University of Wizardry, I barely have time to breathe. But I manage. I have to.

    Lately, my work has been particrly challenging. Our kingdom''s economy has been in decline, and tourism numbers have been dropping faster than a stone imp in a flying contest. It''s been one headache after another.

    So when Lord Vermilion, my chief economic advisor, burst into my study with an unusually chipper expression, I was immediately suspicious.

    "Your Highness," he said, practically bouncing on his toes, "I have some rather surprising news."

    I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Don''t keep me in suspense, Vermilion."

    He cleared his throat, clearly relishing the moment. "We''ve seen a rare increase in both tourism and economic investment in the kingdom. It seems we have some new... admirers."

    Now he had my full attention. "Admirers? What do you mean?"

    Lady Crimson, my head of tourism development, stepped forward. "It appears to be rted to a film, Your Highness. ''The Demonfather,'' I believe it''s called."

    I frowned. Between my studies and my duties, I''d been rather out of the loop. "The Demonfather?" I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

    Lord Azura, one of my younger advisors, couldn''t contain himself. "You haven''t heard of it, Your Highness? It''s a masterpiece! The best film I''ve ever¡ª" He caught himself, shrinking back. "Apologies, I got carried away. I''m... somewhat of a fan."

    His enthusiasm piqued my curiosity. "No need to apologize, Azura. Tell me more about this film. What''s it about?"

    Lady Crimson cleared her throat. "Perhaps more pertinently, Your Highness, you might be interested to know who made it."

    I turned to her, intrigued. "Oh? Is it someone I know?"

    "In a manner of speaking," she said carefully. "It was made by your brother."

    My mind immediately went to Bobby and his endless self-aggrandizing projects. "Bobby''s made a good film? That''s... unexpected."

    "Not Bobby, Your Highness," Lord Vermilion corrected gently. "It was made by the exiled prince. Arthur."

    "Arthur?!" I couldn''t keep the shock from my voice. My little brother, the one we''d all written off as a failure, had made a film? And not just any film, but one sessful enough to impact our kingdom''s economy?

 Chapter 43: Planning to cast a dragon

    <h4>Chapter 43: nning to cast a dragon</h4>

    (Lucy Morningstar POV)

    I eyed my advisors skeptically. Arthur? The same Arthur who couldn''t even summon a decent fireball? How in the nine hells could he have made a film influential enough to boost our economy and tourism?

    "It must be a coincidence that our kingdom is suddenly popr with other races," I said, my voiceced with doubt. "There has to be another exnation."

    My advisors exchanged uneasy nces. Lord Azura, ever the enthusiast, piped up, "But Your Highness, how else could our demon kingdom be so popr without reason?"

    I fixed him with a cold stare, watching with satisfaction as he shrank back. Good. A servant should know their ce. My magical prowess far outstrips his; he''d do well to remember that.

    "I''m not saying there''s no reason for our kingdom''s sudden poprity," I said, my voice sharp. "I''m asking for a reasonable exnation. Anyone?"

    Lady Crimson cleared her throat delicately. "Your Highness, perhaps it''s due to Luck Marbas''s recent victory in the sabrepetition?"

    I pondered this for a moment. "Hmm... I wasn''t aware sabrepetitions had such a wide appeal." An idea struck me. "Still, we should capitalize on this. Let''s use Luck as a brand ambassador for the kingdom."

    As I began outlining ns, I noticed Azura lurking in the corner, a look of poorly concealed resentment on his face. Irritation red within me.

    "Do you have something to add, Azura?" I asked, my tone deceptively calm.

    He bowed stiffly. "Please, Your Highness. Just give ''The Demonfather'' a watch." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the room.

    I bit back a growl of frustration. Stubborn bastard.

    Part of me wanted to have him reprimanded for his insolence. But another part, a quieter part, whispered that maybe there might be something to the film after all.

    I shook my head, dismissing the thought. No. Arthur couldn''t possibly have created something so impactful. Could he?

    What if Azura was right? What if Arthur''s film really was as remarkable as Azura imed?

    I sighed, massaging my temples. Perhaps... perhaps it wouldn''t hurt to give this "Demonfather" a watch. Just to put the matter to rest, of course. Nothing more.

    ***

    (Anus Hades POV)

    The acrid smell of brimstone hit me as soon as we stepped off the airship. Ah, the sweet stench of home. I grimaced, already missing theparatively fresh air of Empirica.

    "Remind me again why we''re here?" I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

    Don Leviathan, his serpentine form coiled elegantly beside me, chuckled. "Vacation, my boy. Even demons need a break now and then."

    I snorted. "Vacation? In the Morningstar Kingdom? A few weeks ago, that would''ve been a punchline, not a n."

    And it was true. Compared to the human, dwarven, or elven kingdoms, our homnd was... well, let''s just say it wasn''t winning any awards forfort or entertainment. Sure, other races might look down their noses at us, but at least they had decent plumbing.

    But here we were, joining the throngs of tourists - demon and non-demon alike - all because of a film.

    "The Demonfather," I mused, shaking my head. "Who''d have thought a demon-made movie could cause all this fuss?"

    Don Leviathan''s forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air. "Never underestimate the power of a good story, Anus. Especially one that shows our world in a new light."

    As our car wound its way through the streets, I couldn''t help but notice the changes. The city seemed... livelier somehow. Less doom and gloom, more hustle and bustle.

    "It''s been a long time since I''ve seen my hometown," Don Leviathan said, his usually stern face softening with nostalgia.

    I nodded, not really sharing his sentiment. My eyes were fixed on the road ahead, watching as the sprawling expanse of Great Neck came into view.

    "There," Don Leviathan said suddenly, pointing with his tail. "That''s where Sonny died."

    I followed his gaze to a toll booth in the distance. Even from here, I could see the cluster of tourists, cameras shing as they posed at the infamous site.

    "Unbelievable," I muttered. "They''re treating it like some kind of amusement park."

    Don Leviathan shrugged, his scales shimmering in the dim light. "It''s bringing in money, isn''t it? And attention. Maybe that''s what our kingdom needed all along."

    I fell silent, pondering his words. As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. For better or worse, "The Demonfather" had put us on the map.

    As we pulled up to the Infernal Heights, I found myself wondering about the demon behind it all. This Arthur Morningstar. What kind of prince makes a film that turns his whole kingdom upside down?

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    These past few days, I''ve been burning through Entertainment Points like there''s no tomorrow. One hundred thousand points for just the script of the first "Lord of the Rings" movie. It''s steep, but worth it.

    I didn''t stop there. In the novel category, I snagged "Harry Potter and the Philosopher''s Stone" for a cool 200 thousand points. It''s not cheap, and the prices for the subsequent volumes and "Lord of the Rings" movies are even higher. But I''m not too worried. Each of these will help me rake in both entertainment points and cold, hard cash.

    It''s funny, really. One of the reasons I went for "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly" was its rtively low cost. Who knew it''d end up being such a headache to produce?

    Back in my old world, it would''ve been a breeze to film - minimal CGI, straightforward production. But here? It''s turning into a logistical nightmare. Finding a country willing to let a demon studio film on their turf is like pulling teeth from a dragon.

    The backdrop we need - vast dusty ins and craggy mountains - isn''t unique to Empirica. But other countries with simrndscapes are giving us the cold shoulder. Same reason as Empirica: apparently, I''ve offended their religion.

    That''s why I''ve pivoted to "The Lord of the Rings". Surprisingly, it might be easier to film here. There are locations right here in the kingdom that are dead ringers for Middle-earth, no illusions required.

    The province bordering the Ashen ins? It''s a spitting image of Mordor, minus the whole nd of shadow" bit. The Gloomstone Forest could pass for Mirkwood or Fangorn with minimal set dressing. And the rolling hills of the eastern province? Hobbiton, here wee.

    It''s almost too perfect. In a world already filled with fantasy elements, "The Lord of the Rings" feels right at home. We won''t need nearly as much CGI as the original films did. Real magic, real fantastical creatures - it''s a filmmaker''s dream.

    Of course, it''s not all smooth sailing. We''ve got our own unique challenges to face. Butpared to the political minefield of "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly"? I''ll take orcs and elves any day.

    But casting for "The Lord of the Rings" was going to be a headache and a half, but one problem loomedrger than the rest: how in the nine hells was I going to cast a dragon?

    Sure, my father and eldest brother each had a wyvern at their beck and call, but I needed a proper dragon. The kind that could make Smaug look like a lizard with delusions of grandeur.

    Problem is, dragons only live on the Eden Continent, home to the "Forest Kingdom" of the environmentalist elves and most of the dwarven kingdoms. It''s a massivendmass, big enough to house creatures of that size and temperament. But it might as well be on another for all the good it does me.

 Chapter 44: Colourful world

    <h4>Chapter 44: Colourful world</h4>

    Speaking of "Harry Potter", I''m toying with the idea of releasing it as a book here. It''ll be interesting to see how people in this world react. Of course, I''ll need to tweak a few things - we''re already in a fantasy world, after all. But I''m confident I can modify it without losing the charm that made it a hit back on Earth.

    I was so lost in thought that the knock on my office door made me jump. I looked up to see Klein poking his head in.

    "Boss, someone wants to see you," he said, looking a bit uncertain.

    I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Who is it?"

    Before Klein could answer, a familiar figure stepped into the room, all confidence and swagger.

    "It''s me. Rupert Darkme."

    I blinked, genuinely surprised. Rupert Darkme, the 30-year-old demon actor who''d famously quit the industry, was standing in my office. This day just got a whole lot more interesting.

    "Rupert," I said, standing up and trying to hide my surprise. "This is... unexpected. What brings you to our humble studio?"

    Rupert''s eyes darted around the room, taking in the posters of "The Demonfather" and the scattered script pages on my desk. "Humble might be underselling it a bit, don''t you think? Word on the street is that Hellfire Studios is the ce to be these days."

    I gestured for him to take a seat, curiosity getting the better of me. "And what does the great Rupert Darkme want with us? Last I heard, you''d sworn off the film industry."

    Rupert sat down, his posture a mix of tension and excitement. "Let''s just say I''ve had a change of heart. Your film... ''The Demonfather''... it made me remember why I got into this business in the first ce."

    I leaned forward, intrigued. "Go on."

    "I want in," he said simply. "Whatever your next project is, I want to be a part of it. No star treatment, no ridiculous demands. Just a chance to be part of something... meaningful again."

    I leaned back in my chair, studying Rupert. Sure, he was once a rising star, but I wasn''t about to hand out roles based on past glory. Hell, the only reason I even knew about him was because of his brother, Damien Darkme, the current top demon actor. I hadn''t even seen any of their films.

    "You''re interested in being part of my next film?" I chuckled, deciding to test the waters. "Our next project isn''t even off the ground yet. We haven''t started casting. What makes you so sure it''ll be as good as ''The Demonfather''?"

    Rupert''s eyes flickered to the scripts on my desk, a smile ying on his lips. "Call it demon instinct, but I''ve got a feeling I don''t want to miss out on whatever Hellfire Studios does next." He paused, a hint of regret in his voice. "I''m kicking myself for not epting the role of Sonny when I had the chance."

    Ah, right. I vaguely remembered sending out invitations to some down-on-their-luck actors (rock bottom list). Guess Rupert was on that list.

    "Instinct, huh?" I said, unable to keep the amusement from my voice. "Did you know the entire film industry - not just demons, but the whole lot - is scrutinizing me? They''re saying ''The Demonfather'' was a fluke, a one-hit wonder. That I just got lucky."

    Rupert''s smile didn''t falter. "Mr. Morningstar, I couldn''t care less about media spections. All I know is that I want in on your next project, whatever it is. Even if it''s just a bit part, I''ll take it."

    I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Here was Rupert Darkme, part of a renowned acting family, practically begging for any role he could get. It was... unexpected, to say the least.

    "That''s quite an offer, Rupert," I said, measuring my words carefully. "But I have to ask - why? Why are you so determined to work with us?"

    Rupert leaned forward, his eyes intense. "Because you''re doing something different. Something real. The big studios, they''re all about ying it safe, churning out the same old drivel. But you? You''re shaking things up. And I want to be part of that."

    I nodded slowly, considering his words. There was a hunger in Rupert''s eyes, a desperation almost. It was intriguing, but also a bit concerning.

    "Alright, Rupert," I said finally. "I appreciate your enthusiasm. But let''s get one thing straight - if you do end up in our next project, there''s no star treatment. You''ll be part of the team, just like everyone else. Can you handle that?"

    Rupert''s face broke into a genuine grin. "Handle it? Mr. Morningstar, that''s exactly what I''m looking for."

    I couldn''t help but smile back. "Well then, let''s talk details. But remember, nothing''s set in stone yet. We''ve got a long way to go before we start casting."

    ***

    (Vivienne POV)

    It''s funny how quickly things can change. A few weeks ago, I was just another struggling actress. Now? I can barely walk down the street without being recognized as Apollonia from "The Demonfather."

    Managers, agents, directors - suddenly everyone wants a piece of me. My own manager''s been relentless, pushing me to ept some high-paying role or another. It''s... overwhelming, to say the least.

    I should be thrilled. This is what I''ve always wanted, right? To be in demand, to have my pick of roles. But every time I think about epting one of these offers, something holds me back.

    I can''t stop thinking about Hellfire Studios. About their next project. About... Arthur.

    It''s ridiculous, really. My part in "The Demonfather" was tiny. Just a few scenes. But those few scenes were enough tounch my career into the stratosphere. And working with Arthur, seeing his visione to life... it was unlike anything I''ve experienced before.

    I catch myself wondering what he''s nning next. Will it be another period piece? Something different? Whatever it is, I want to be a part of it.

    I know, I know. I should be practical. Take advantage of this momentum while I have it. But the thought of working on some generic blockbuster, no matter how well it pays, just doesn''t excite me the way the prospect of another Hellfire Studios production does.

    There''s a part of me that wonders if I''m reading too much into "The Demonfather." All those rumors about hidden messages, about it being some kind of borate chess game involving the Morningstar royal family... it''s probably just gossip. Right?

    But then I remember the intensity in Arthur''s eyes during filming. Maybe there was more to it than I realized.

    I sigh, flopping back onto my bed. My manager would have a fit if he knew what I was thinking. Turning down guaranteed paydays on the off chance that Arthur might have a role for me in his next film? It''s madness.

    But I can''t shake this feeling. This certainty that whatever Hellfire Studios does next, it''s going to be big.

    And I want to be a part of it again.

    I''m pretty sure I''m not the only one from the cast who feels this way.

    ***

    (Firfel POV)

    Ugh. Unbelievable. The "Demonfather" bes a hit even in the Roses Kingdom, and what does Mother do? Sends me a letter full of reprimands. As if my "baseless dream" is something to be ashamed of.

    I crumple the paper, channeling my frustration into a burst of wind magic. In seconds, the letter is nothing but ashes. If only I could deal with Mother''s disapproval so easily.

    "Mother wouldn''t understand," I mutter, absently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. How could she? In her world, my greatest achievement should be winning some inane beauty contest. As if that''s all I''m good for.

    Acting isn''t just some fleeting fancy. It''s art. It''s life. It''s... everything. But how can I make her see that? How can I exin the thrill of bing someone else, of telling stories that matter, to someone who sees the world in ck and white?

    I shook my head, still reeling from the letter''s contents. But as my frustration ebbed, another thought bubbled up. The Demonfather. It''s still hard to wrap my mind around it. An exiled prince, the ck sheep of the Morningstar family, and he pulls off a film that''s raked in 98 million dors globally. It''s... staggering.

    And it''s not stopping. The film''s still screening, still drawing crowds. More countries are just starting to show it. Who knows how high that number will climb?

    Arthur. Just thinking about what he''s achieved makes me feel a mix of awe and... something else. Admiration? Respect? Maybe a bit of both.

    I can''t help but wonder what he''ll do next. Whatever it is, it''s definitely going to be interesting.

    Arthur didn''t just make a great film or give my career a boost. He brought color to our world ¨C literally, with that ingenious camera of his, and figuratively with his vision.

    It''s funny. In a way, Arthur is theplete opposite of Mother. Where she sees everything in stark ck and white, he sees a world bursting with color.

    Like how every person has their own unique shade, their own perspective to offer.

    That''s what makes the world interesting to me.

 Chapter 45: Is this for real?

    <h4>Chapter 45: Is this for real?</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    After that chat with Rupert Darkme, I''ve been knee-deep in negotiations with book publishers. "Harry Potter" is burning a hole in my pocket, and I''m itching to get it out there. But these talks? They''re enough to make me want to pull my horns out.

    Every publisher I''ve met has the same song and dance. "You''re a new writer," they say, conveniently forgetting about a little film called "The Demonfather." They offer royalties that wouldn''t buy a decent cup of coffee, all while iming they''re taking some huge risk.

    Thest straw was my meeting with ming Books. The editor actually had the gall to call me a "one-hit wonder" to my face. As if "The Demonfather" was just some fluke.

    That''s when it hit me. Why am I letting these short-sighted publishers dictate terms? I''ve got the means, the vision, and the story. Time to cut out the middleman.

    So, I''ve done it. I''ve founded Hellfire Stories. My own publishingpany. Has a nice ring to it, don''t you think?

    I''ve sunk about a hundred thousand dors into a printing factory. It''s not much to look at right now - all nking machinery and the smell of ink and paper. But when I walk through it, I can almost hear the hum of stories waiting to be told.

    And I didn''t stop there. I''ve bought up stores all over the city and beyond, shelling out hundreds of thousands more. Each one a potential gateway to the worlds I''m going to create.

    Is it a risk? Hell yes. But I''ve never been one to y it safe. And something tells me "Harry Potter" is going to be just the beginning.

    While my team and I have been neck-deep in preparations for "The Lord of the Rings," I''ve somehow managed to squeeze in time to finish writing "Harry Potter and the Philosopher''s Stone." It''s amazing what you can aplish when you don''t need to sleep, isn''t it?

    With the manuscript hot off my typewriter, I headed down to the printing factory. The ce is a cacophony of nking machinery and the sharp smell of ink. It''s not exactly high-tech, but it''s the best we''ve got in this world.

    I handed the manuscript to Grigori, the demon overseeing the printing. He thumbed through the pages, his brow furrowed in concentration.

    "So, how long will it take?" I asked, trying not to sound too impatient.

    Grigori scratched his chin, leaving a smudge of ink. "Well, Mr. Morningstar, considering the volume and our current capabilities... I''d say we can have the first batch ready in about three weeks."

    I must have looked surprised because he quickly added, "That''s if we run the presses day and night, of course. It''s not like those fancy human factories, but we''ll get it done."

    Three weeks. In my old life, that would have seemed cially slow. But here, with our steam-powered presses and hand-set type, it''s practically lightning speed.

    I nodded, trying to hide my impatience. "Alright, Grigori. Three weeks it is. Just make sure the quality is top-notch."

    Leaving the printing factory behind, I head back towards the studio. It''s funny how things change. These days, the ce is swarming with actors - mostly the ones who couldn''t get the time of day from big studios before. Now they''re lining up to audition for our next project.

    The crowds got so bad we had to move auditions to that big warehouse I snagged in the cheap district. Who would''ve thought we''d outgrow our space so quickly?

    As I stroll down the streets, I can''t help but notice the change in how people look at me. Gone are the sneers and whispers of "trashy prince". Now, I see admiration in their eyes. It''s... different. Not unwee, but definitely going to take some getting used to.

    Don''t get me wrong, there are still plenty of demons who''d love to see me fall t on my face. Can''t please everyone, I suppose. But the shift is undeniable.

    What really throws me for a loop is the reaction from other races. I overhear an elf whispering to his dwarf buddy, "That''s Michael Corleone!" as I pass by. It takes everything in me not to turn around and correct them. I''m not Michael, I just yed him. But then again, maybe that''s the point of good acting.

    A group of young humans actually stops me, asking for autographs. Me. The demon they probably would''ve crossed the street to avoid a few months ago. I sign their papers, trying to keep my hand from shaking. It''s surreal.

    Before I know it, I''m actually starting to feel like a superstar. It''s a far cry from the "trashy prince"bel I''d been stuck with for so long.

    As I finally make it back to the studio, dodging another group of autograph seekers, I can''t help but shake my head. Fame is a fickle thing. One minute you''re theughingstock of the kingdom, the next you''re everyone''s favorite demon.

    I just hope I can keep this momentum going. Because if there''s one thing I''ve learned, it''s that in this business, you''re only as good as yourst hit.

    And I''ve got no intention of being a one-hit wonder.

    I step into the warehouse, and it''s like walking into a beehive. Actors are everywhere, all buzzing with nervous energy, hoping tond a role. But my attention is immediately drawn to my team huddled in the corner, looking like they''re about to draw swords on each other.

    "How''re you doing, guys? Auditions going alright?" I call out, making my presence known. "You all look like you''re about to start a brawl."

    Mercy, one of our casting team members, is quick to respond. "No, Your Highness. We''re not fighting, but... we''ve got a bit of a disagreement with the casting director."

    Mart nods, pointing at two actor profiles. "Klein says this guy performed better, but we think it''s the other one."

    I take the profiles, eyeing them carefully. One''s an imp demon, the other a dwarf. Neither screams ''Gollum'' to me, but I keep that thought to myself for now.

    "Alright, what''s the story here?" I ask, bracing myself for the drama.

    Klein jumps in, exining how the imp demon nailed the performance, his voice dripping with enthusiasm. But before he can finish, Mercy cuts in.

    "See, boss? He''s clearly biased. I bet that imp''s his cousin or something."

    Mart nods vigorously. "The dwarf was definitely better. No contest."

    I resist the urge to roll my eyes. They''re arguing over Gollum, of all roles? Neither of these guys looks remotely like the character I have in mind.

    Before things can escte further, I hold up my hands. "Alright, guys, let''s pump the brakes here. To be honest, I don''t think either of them is quite right for Gollum."

    The looks on their faces are priceless. You''d think I''d just announced we''re making a romanticedy instead of "Lord of the Rings."

    "What? Why?" Klein sputters.

    Mercy chimes in, "Don''t you want to see their performances first, boss?"

    "Yeah, how can you know they''re not right without even seeing them act?" Mart adds, looking perplexed.

    I sigh internally. If I tell them it''s because neither actor looks the part, they''ll probably use me of being shallow. But the truth is, Gollum is such a unique character, we need someone who can embody him physically as well as dramatically.

    "Look, I just know, alright?" I say, trying to sound confident rather than dismissive. "Sometimes you''ve got to trust your gut in this business."

    They don''t look convinced, but they''re not arguing either. Small victories, I suppose.

    "Alright, let''s put a pin in this argument for now," I say, gesturing towards the line of increasingly antsy actors. "We''ve got a warehouse full of people waiting. We can duke it outter."

    Klein nods, looking properly chastised. "Yes, boss."

    I make my way to the center of the judging table, settling into the slightly taller chair reserved for me. It''s a bit much, if you ask me, but apparently it''s expected. Image and all that.

    With a nod to the crew, I signal for the auditions to begin. One by one, actors step forward, each hoping to be the next big thing in Hellfire Studios'' uing blockbuster.

    I put on my best "serious director" face, pen poised over my notepad. To anyone watching, I probably look like I''m jotting down detailed critiques of each performance. The reality? Most of my notes consist of "average" or "bad", with the asional "good" thrown in when someone actually impresses me.

    It''s not that I''m being harsh. It''s just... well, when you''ve got the original performances etched into your memory, it''s hard not topare.

    As I''m contemting whether "mediocre" is too mean to write down, the next actor steps up. I barely nce up at first, expecting more of the same.

    But then I do a double-take so hard I nearly give myself whish.

    Holy hellfire. The... being standing in front of me looks like Gollum''s long-lost twin. Or cousin. Or whatever the equivalent would be for a creature that''s meant to be one-of-a-kind.

 Chapter 46: Imkrag

    <h4>Chapter 46: Imkrag</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I blink hard, wondering if I''m hallucinating. But no, he''s still there. Gaunt, wide-eyed, with that unmistakable hunched posture. It''s like Andy Serkis stepped out of my memories and into this world.

    I lean forward, suddenly very interested. "What''s your name?" I ask, trying not to sound too eager.

    The creature ¨C demon? goblin? I''m not even sure ¨C blinks those massive eyes at me.

    "I''m Imkrag, your royal highness," he says, his massive eyes fixed on me as he bows so low I half expect him to topple over.

    I can''t help but study him. He''s not quite as thin as Gollum, and that afro is definitely a new look, but I can see the potential. With the right diet and some potions, he could definitely pull off the appearance. The hair we can work with.

    "Are you a demon?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

    "Well..." Imkrag hesitates, and I know that look. He looked like he had an identity crisis. It''s like a person who''s deciding if he''s Asian or American.

    "Well?" I prompt, trying to keep my tone gentle.

    Imkrag nces around nervously before leaning in. "I can be a demon, your highness... But also..." He lowers his voice, "I''m an imp demon... And also a dwarf, your royal highness."

    "Imp demon and a dwarf?" I mutter, intrigued. Now that''s abination you don''t see every day.

    Before I can respond, I catch snippets of not-so-whisperedments from the other actors.

    "Hehe, no wonder he looked like that. He looks so ugly."

    "An imp and dwarf like him thinks he can get a role with his appearance? Heh."

    I feel a sh of anger, but I force myself to ignore them. However, I can see Imkrag''s affected by thements. Time for a distraction.

    "Is it natural for an imp and dwarf like you to have a hunched posture like that?" I ask, gesturing to his Gollum-like stance.

    Imkrag straightens up, looking embarrassed. "No, your highness. I''ve just did that posture because I''m imitating Gollum from the script."

    I nod, a smile ying on my lips. This guy''s certainly done his homework.

    Klein leans in, his voice barely above a whisper. "Boss, he''s too... well, ugly for the role. We demons might not care, but the other races? They''ll hate it."

    Mercy nods, chiming in, "Yeah, we''re after the right look for Gollum, right? This guy doesn''t cut it."

    I have to bite back augh. If only they knew. They''re so hung up on appearances because I didn''t spell out Gollum''s full description in the script. Just his bodynguage and height. Same for the other characters. Sometimes, less is more.

    I level a steady gaze at them. "You don''t get to decide who I choose."

    Their mouths snap shut so fast I swear I hear teeth click.

    Imkrag''s shoulders slump, his big eyes downcast. "Um... Your royal highness... I guess I won''t be getting the role..." His voice is heavy with disappointment as he turns to leave.

    "Wait." My voice is quiet, but it freezes him in his tracks.

    He turns back, fear flickering across his face. Poor guy probably thinks I''m going to humiliate him like the rest. But whates next shocks everyone, Imkrag included.

    "You will get the role of Gollum. Still want to leave?"

    Imkrag''s eyes go wider than I thought possible. "Is... Is this a joke, your highness?"

    I can''t help but smile at his disbelief. "Not a joke. You''ll definitely be in the project."

    The room erupts into shocked murmurs. Klein and Mercy look like they''ve been pped with a wet fish. But Imkrag? The hope dawning on his face makes it all worth it.

    Sometimes, you''ve got to trust your gut in this business. And right now? My gut''s telling me we''ve found our Gollum.

    ***

    (Imkrag POV)

    I can''t believe my ears. Did I just get chosen for the role?

    "Will you be part of my project?" His Royal Highness Arthur asks, his piercing gaze fixed on me. The infamous youngest prince of the Morningstar family, known for his unconventional ways, is actually offering me a chance?

    As a failed actor and contortionist, I should be jumping at this opportunity. But a part of me fears it''s just another cruel joke. Still, I can''t let this slip away.

    "I want to be part of your project, Your Highness!" I blurt out, my voice a mix of excitement and trepidation.

    "That''s very good," Arthur says, a smile ying on his lips. He stands up and, in one fluid motion, leaps down from the raised tform,nding right in front of me.

    I flinch instinctively as he reaches out, memories of past humiliations shing through my mind. How many times have I been tossed around like a ragdoll by other demons? I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

    But it neveres.

    I crack open an eye to find Arthur smiling at me, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. "I''ve got high hopes for you, Imkrag," he says, his voice warm. "Come to Hellfire Studios tomorrow morning. We''ll discuss your role preparation."

    The kindness in his words is too much. I feel my eyes well up as I drop to my knees. "Thank you very much, Your Highness!"

    To my surprise, Arthur crouches down to my level. "Alright, no need for a scene," he says, his tone gentle but firm. "You''re a demon and a dwarf. You need to be confident and brave. Don''t let anyone look down on you."

    I look up at him, my heart swelling with gratitude and newfound determination.

    "Don''t forget who you are," he continues. "Be proud of your demon heritage, but also draw strength from your dwarf side. Both make you unique."

    I nod, wiping away my tears. "I''ll take those words to heart, Your Highness."

    Arthur stands, gesturing towards the exit. "Go on now. We''ve got more auditions to get through, and we don''t want to hold things up."

    "Right away, Your Highness," I say, scrambling to my feet. I bow once more before hurrying out of the warehouse.

    I can feel the envious res of the other actors burning into my back, but for once, I don''t care.

    Who would''ve thought? I showed up at that audition running on fumes and desperation. Hell, I was half-expecting the infamous prince to use me as his personal punching bag forughs. Wouldn''t be the first time I''ve been the butt of some high-born''s joke.

    These past few weeks, my stomach''s been more empty than full. The circus where I work ¨C or worked, I guess ¨C was about to kick me to the curb. Some hotshot imp came along, bending himself into pretzels that make my contortions look like a rusty gate hinge.

    And my acting career? Let''s just say it''s been on life support since day one. No agency would touch me with a ten-foot pole. The few roles I managed to snag were blink-and-you''ll-miss-it extras. Half the time, I''d drag my family to see my big screen debut, only to find my scenes cut or my face hidden behind the lead actor''s elbow.

    I was circling the drain, no two ways about it. So when His Royal Highness dangled that olive branch in front of me, you bet I snatched it up, thorns and all. Infamous prince or not, beggars can''t be choosers, right?

    Now, I can barely contain myself thinking about tomorrow. It''s like someone lit a fire under me, and for once, it''s not because I''m being chased out of town.

    As I make my way back to the outer city of Fend, to the ce I hesitate to call home, I can''t wipe the grin off my face. Our house is more patchwork than building at this point, held together by hope and stubborn determination. But when I burst through the door, shouting aboutnding a big role, you''d think I''d just announced we''d won the royal lottery.

    My family''s faces light up, and for a moment, our cramped, leaky home feels like a pce. Ma''s eyes well up, Pa ps me on the back so hard I nearly topple over, and my little sister starts dancing around the room, singing about how her brother''s going to be a star.

    For the first time in what feels like forever, there''sughter in our house. Real, genuineughter. Not the bitter chuckles we usually share over our misfortunes.

 Chapter 47: Miniature models

    <h4>Chapter 47: Miniature models</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The sun''s barely up, and I''m already unlocking the studio doors. To my surprise, there''s Imkrag, our half-imp, half-dwarf Gollum, looking like he''s been camped out all night.

    I can''t help but smile. "You''re here early. Excited?"

    Imkrag''s practically vibrating with nervous energy. "Yes, Your Royal Highness. I''m very excited for the role."

    I chuckle, shaking my head. "Hey, ease up on the ''Your Highness'' bit, alright? I''m not exactly rolling in royal status these days."

    "Understood, Your High¡ª" Imkrag catches himself, flushing. "I mean..."

    "Arthur''s fine. Or Sir Arthur if you''re feeling fancy. Boss works too." I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. "Whatever makes youfortable."

    "Okay, boss," Imkrag says, giving me a salute that''s half respect, half nerves.

    I nod, gesturing towards the studio. "Come on in. Time to meet the team."

    As we walk in, I can feel Imkrag tensing up beside me. Poor guy looks like he''s about to face a dragon, not a bunch of sleep-deprived film crew.

    "Everyone," I call out, getting their attention. "This is Imkrag. He''s our Gollum. Let''s make him feel wee, yeah?"

    The crew nods, a mix of curious nces and polite smiles. I turn to our transformation team ¨C makeup artists, dieticians, and our resident potion expert.

    "I need you guys to help Imkrag get into character. I''ve drawn up a list of potions and a diet n that should get him looking like the Gollum I''ve got in mind."

    As I hand over the ns, I can see Imkrag''s eyes widening. Guess he''s realizing this role might be more intense than he thought.

    "Don''t worry," I say, patting him on the shoulder. "We''re not going to turn you into a frog or anything. Though if we did, it might make those river scenes easier to film."

    A few chuckles ripple through the crew, and I see Imkrag''s shoulders rx a bit. Good. A littleughter goes a long way in breaking the ice.

    With Imkrag sorted, I make my way to check on the art team. As I push open the door to their workspace, I''m hit by the smell of paint and glue. It''s oddlyforting.

    The room is a hive of activity, my artists hunched over intricate miniature models for "The Lord of the Rings". I can''t help but feel a surge of pride. This concept ispletely new to them, probably to the whole industry, but they''re taking to it like ducks to water.

    "You guys are making great progress," I say, making my presence known. A few heads snap up, startled. "Looks like creating this art department was worth every penny."

    Roy, our wolf demon team leader, turns to me with a grin that shows off his impressive canines. "d you like our work, boss."

    I give his shoulder a pat as I lean in to examine the nearlyplete model of Isengard. The detail is breathtaking - each tiny stone, every miniature tower exactly as I''d imagined it.

    "This is incredible, Roy," I say, gesturing to the model. "You''ve captured it perfectly."

    Roy''s chest puffs up with pride, but he''s quick to deflect the praise. "If not for your drawings, boss, we''d be lost. They''re our guiding light."

    I can''t help but smile. He''s right, of course. A week ago, when the system unlocked the "skills shop" (thank you, "Demonfather" sess), I immediately splurged on drawing skills. It was a necessity - how else could I convey these fictional locations to my team?

    "Well, I''m d they''re helping," I say, running a finger along the tiny walls of Isengard. "But you''re the ones bringing them to life. This is... it''s like seeing my memories take physical form."

    I catch myself, realizing how odd that must sound. But if the team thinks it''s strange, they don''t show it. They''re too engrossed in their work, hands steady as they paint microscopic bricks and shape minuscule trees.

    "How are we looking time-wise?" I ask, turning back to Roy. "Think we''ll be ready for filming on schedule?"

    Roy scratches his chin, leaving a smudge of paint in his fur. "It''ll be tight, boss, but we''ll make it. The team''s really fired up about this project."

    I nod, feeling a surge of excitement. "Good. Keep up the great work, everyone. You''re making magic here."

    As I turn to leave, I can''t help but take onest look at the room. These miniatures, these tiny worlds taking shape under skilled hands - they''re more than just models. They''re the first step in bringing my vision to life.

    Changing the topic, I''ve been racking my brains trying to solve our orc casting problem. We''ve managed to find a few Orc Demons here in the Morningstar Kingdom, but it''s like looking for a needle in a haystack. We need an army, not a handful.

    The real jackpot of Orc Demons is over in the Thorn Kingdom. It''s a smaller demon realm across the sea, technically our neighbor but... well, it''splicated.

    The Thorn Kingdom used to be part of our territory. But they broke away years ago, established their own government on that ind. It''s been a sore spot for the Morningstar royals ever since. Dad''s always going on about "reunification" at the dinner table. Makes for some awkward family meals, let me tell you.

    Politics aside, it''s a headache for our production. The Orc Demons over there might not be too keen on ying extras in a Morningstar Kingdom film. There''s a lot of bad blood, understandably.

    I''ve been tossing around the idea of using primal orcs from our dangerous forests as an alternative. They''re not quite as advanced as Orc Demons, but physically, there''s not much difference. They''re more tribal, no demon blood in the mix, but they could work in a pinch.

    It''s a tricky situation. On one hand, using Thorn Kingdom Orc Demons would be ideal for authenticity. On the other, it could open up a whole can of political worms. And let''s face it, I''ve got enough on my te without adding international incidents to the mix.

    The primal orcs are a safer bet, politically speaking. But they''re, well, primal. Training them for a film shoot could be... interesting, to say the least.

    I shake my head, pushing thoughts of orc casting to the back of my mind. That''s a problem for future Arthur. Right now, I''ve got bigger fish to fry - namely, our uing shoot in the Gloomstone Forest.

    Twenty miles might not sound like much, but when you''re hauling an entire film crew and their equipment, it might as well be on the moon. The logistics alone are enough to give me a migraine. But then again, when has anything about this project been easy?

    Thankfully, I''ve got an ace up my sleeve - or rather, a stone in my pocket.

    I finger the small, smooth rock I picked up from the system''s "Magic Shop". To the untrained eye, it looks like any other pebble you''d find on the street. But this little beauty? It''s a portal stone.

    The n is simple: set up a teleportation point here at the studio, then physically travel to Gloomstone Forest to establish another point there. After that? Instant travel between locations. No more day-long trips, no more caravans of equipment. Just step through and boom - you''re there.

    Portal travel used to bemonce back in the ancient times, but now? It''s rarer than a friendly dragon. Only the bigwigs in government and royalty have ess to portal stones these days. For the average people, they''re the stuff of legends.

    Which is exactly why this needs to stay under wraps. Thest thing I need is some nosy higher-up getting wind of this and deciding to "confiscate" our little shortcut in the name of national security or whatever.

    I''ve already got a n forming. Key crew members only. Hidden locations for the portal points. For the main shoot, most of the team can stay on location. Me and a select few can handle the back-and-forth, keeping everyone supplied without raising suspicion.

 Chapter 48: Gloomstone Forest

    <h4>Chapter 48: Gloomstone Forest</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Two days of travel brought us to Gloomstone Forest. Eight hours by car, four by bus, and a final stretch on foot. We''re staying in Gloomstone Town, close enough to the forest for convenience.

    Stepping into the forest''s edge, I''m struck by how much it resembles Fangorn. The trees are old and gnarled, moss hanging from their branches. The air is damp and heavy with the scent of decaying leaves.

    "This is the ce," I tell my crew. "We''ll film Fangorn scenes here."

    One of my assistants, a nervous-looking imp, pipes up. , "Boss, shouldn''t we have hired an adventurer or mercenary?"

    I know where this is going. "Because it''s dangerous, right?"

    He nods. "Yes, boss. There are goblins, sometimes even trolls around here."

    I''m not as concerned as I would have been a few months ago. The system''s given me some advantages. I''ve learned a breathing technique that''s increased my mana pool and magic potency. I''ve also picked up some physical training that''s boosted my stamina and fighting skills.

    I''m not at my brothers'' level, but I''m closer to Bobby''s strength now. It''s enough to handle the local wildlife, at least.

    "Don''t worry about goblins and such," I tell them. "I can handle it."

    The crew looks skeptical, but they don''t argue. We start setting up our equipment, and I keep an eye out for any potential threats.

    I watch my team bustling around, setting up equipment for our test runs. We''re not filming properly yet, but these tests are crucial. In a few days, once casting''s wrapped up, we''ll be back here in full force.

    The dragon casting''s a problem for future me. As for the orcs, I''ve got a n brewing. We''ll use the few orc demons we''ve found, then supplement with primal orcs from deep in the Gloomstone Forest. Of course, we''ll need a guide for that little expedition. Another item for the to-do list.

    While the crew''s busy, I catch George''s eye and nod towards the trees.

    He follows me without a word.

    "Where should we set up our portal?" he whispers once we''re out of earshot.

    I scan the area. "Somewhere hidden. Maybe in the hollow of an old tree or something simr."

    George furrows his brow. "You''re not worried someone might stumble upon it?"

    I can''t help but chuckle. "Why would I be? To activate the portal, they''d need to know the password I''m going to set."

    "Password?" George''s eyes widen. "Your portal will have a password?"

    "Of course," I say, grinning at his surprise. "It''s a basic function of the portal stone. Can''t have just anyone using our secret shortcut, can we?"

    We continue our search, discussing potential hiding spots. Finally, we spot an ancient tree in the distance, its trunk twisted and gnarled with age. Arge hollow at its base catches my eye.

    "There," I point. "That''s perfect."

    As we approach, George pulls out the necessary tools from his pack. "Alright, let''s get this set up. I''ll need to do some dwarven crafting to anchor it properly."

    I nod, pulling out the portal stone. "I''ll start the activation ritual. Between your crafting and my magic, this should be undetectable to anyone who doesn''t know exactly what they''re looking for."

    Once we''ve found the perfect spot - a hollow in an ancient, gnarled tree - George and I get to work. We''ve got to move fast; the crew might start wondering where we''ve disappeared to if we take too long.

    I pull out the portal stone, its surface cool and smooth in my palm. George rummages in his pack, producing a set of dwarven crafting tools.

    "Alright," I say, kneeling down at the base of the tree. "I''ll start the activation ritual. You work on anchoring it."

    George nods, his face set in concentration. He begins etching intricate runes into the bark of the tree, his movements precise and practiced. I''m reminded again why having a dwarf on the team is so invaluable.

    I close my eyes, holding the stone in both hands. The ritual isn''tplicated, but it requires focus. I begin to channel my mana into the stone, feeling it warm under my touch. As I do, I whisper the activation phrase:

    "By shadow and light, by root and branch, I bind this stone to this ce."

    The stone begins to pulse with a soft, bluish light. I can feel it resonating with the natural magic of the forest. So far, so good.

    "George," I call out, my eyes still closed. "How''s the anchoringing?"

    "Almost done," he grunts. "Just need to... there!"

    I feel a surge of energy as George''s dwarven runes connect with the portal stone''s magic. The light intensifies for a moment, then fades to a subtle glow.

    Opening my eyes, I see the portal stone has sunk partially into the tree''s hollow, the runes George carved forming a perfect circle around it. If you didn''t know what to look for, you''d never spot it.

    "Now for the password," I mutter, cing my hand on the stone once more. I whisper a phrase - something only I and a select few will know. The stone shes once, acknowledging the security measure.

    George wipes sweat from his brow. "Is that it? Are we done?"

    I nod, standing up and brushing dirt from my knees. "That''s it. One secret portal, ready for use. Want to test it out?"

    George grins, his earlier nervousness reced by excitement. "You bet, boss."

    I ce my hand on the stone, whisper the password, and focus on our studio back in the city. For a moment, nothing happens. Then, with a soft whoosh, a shimmering doorway appears in the air before us.

    "After you," I say, gesturing to George with a grin.

    I step through the portal after George, and whoa - it''s like being turned inside out and back again. For a few seconds, I''m blind, my head spinning like I''ve had one too many at the tavern. When my vision clears, we''re standing in the studio, the familiar smell of paint and sawdust filling my nostrils.

    "It works," George says, his voice a mix of excitement and nausea. He''s swaying a bit, probably as dizzy as I am.

    "Right," I say, trying to sound more steady than I feel. "Problem solved. Let''s head back before the crew starts wondering where we''ve gone."

    Another dizzying trip through the portal, and we''re back in Gloomstone Forest. The crew''s almost finished setting up the equipment, and the construction team is already modifying the area for our shoot.

    "Boss, where''d you disappear to?" one of the crew members asks, eyeing us suspiciously.

    I shrug, aiming for nonchnce. "Just took a look around. Didn''t even see any goblins or trolls."

    Jeff, our local guide from Gloomstone Town, pipes up. "They usuallye out in the afternoon or at night. Right now, they''re too scared of demons in broad daylight."

    He pauses, giving me a look that makes me wonder if he''s trying to tell me something. "They only target weak demons, and only when they''re alone in the forest at off-hours."

    I can''t help but feel he''s implying I fall into the "weak demon" category. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jeff.

    "With this many of you," Jeff continues, "you''ve got nothing to worry about. A simple fireball would scare off those goblins and trolls."

    I turn to my crew, who look slightly less terrified now. "See? Nothing to worry about."

    I chuckle, ncing at my crew. Their relief is palpable, like kids realizing the monster under the bed is just a shadow.

    It hits me then - these guys are total city slickers. They''re so used to the hustle and bustle of urban life that the thought of a few forest critters has them jumpy. I guess when your biggest daily threat is getting sshed by a passing carriage, the idea of goblins and trolls seems pretty daunting.

    "Though goblins and trolls aren''t a threat to us demons," Jeff says, his tone suddenly serious, "in the deeper parts of Gloomstone Forest, there are orcs. They live in tribes, so they''re definitely more dangerous. I suggest you guys never go there."

    As we''re talking, something catches my eye. There, in the distance - is that a troll? Its head is just visible, peeking out from behind a tree. It probably thinks it''s well-hidden, but subtlety isn''t exactly a troll''s strong suit.

 Chapter 49: Troll Chief

    <h4>Chapter 49: Troll Chief</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I can''t help but stare at the troll in the distance. Sure, I''ve seen them in books, but nothing quite prepares you for the real deal.

    This one''s shorter than I expected, barely reaching dwarf height. Its face is all chubby cheeks and aical nose, with curious eyes peeking out from under a mop of shoulder-length hair. Could be female, maybe? Before I can get a better look, it notices me watching and ducks out of sight. Shy little thing.

    "Hey, Jeff," I call out, interrupting his forest safety lecture. "Are the trolls around here usually this shy?"

    Jeff raises an eyebrow, like he''s surprised I even noticed a troll. "Some are pretty meek, yeah. Stay out of trouble. But most?" He chuckles. "They''re little troublemakers. Love using their magic to prank travelers and even goblins."

    Now that piques my interest. "Magic? Oh right, they can manipte trees, can''t they?"

    Jeff nods. "Yep. They use it to scare folks, make ''em think the trees areing alive or something."

    Harvey, one of my more nervous crew members, pipes up. "Wait, if they can control trees, aren''t they super dangerous?"

    Jeff''s exnation is oddly reassuring. "They can be, sure. Five trolls working together can move an ancient tree, give our mages and adventurers a real headache. But they rarely mess with demons these days. They know better."

    There''s a story there, I can tell. "What happened? Some kind of troll-demon showdown in the past?"

    Jeff''s eyes light up, clearly excited to share some local history. "About thirty years back, in my dad''s day, the trolls got cocky. Started raiding the town, pushing folks around. For a few days, we had ancient trees stomping through the streets."

    George leans in, totally hooked. "Then what?"

    "Well, the townsfolk fought back, started pushing those trees out. But the real turning point? Lord Demiurge from Evilest City showed up. Nearly wiped out every troll in the forest."

    I whistle, impressed. "Damn. Guess that taught them a lesson."

    Jeff nods. "Would''ve been the end of them if their chief hadn''t begged for mercy. In themon tongue, if you can believe it."

    Now that''s interesting. A troll that can speak ournguage? The filmmaker in me is already seeing possibilities.

    As Jeff''s story sinks in, the gears in my head start turning. A troll chief who can speak themon tongue? Now that''s an opportunity if I''ve ever heard one.

    I''d been wracking my brain about how to bring the Ents to life. Those walking, talking trees were going to cost a fortune in one-time illusion spells. But if trolls can manipte ancient trees... well, that changes everything.

    It''s funny. Before Jeff''s little history lesson, I wouldn''t have even considered approaching trolls. How do you negotiate with creatures you can''t even talk to? But now? Now I''ve got a potential trantor.

    While Jeff continues regaling the crew with forest tales, I quietly slip away. The power I''ve been cultivating courses through me as I silently dash towards where Ist saw that shy troll.

    I leap from branch to branch, the forest a blur around me. It''s exhrating, using these new abilities. For a moment, I forget I''m an exiled prince turned filmmaker. Right now, I''m just another creature of the forest, moving with the trees.

    Suddenly, I spot them. The troll from earlier is chattering away in what must be the trollnguage to another of its kind. The neer looks shocked, its eyes wide and mouth agape. Wonder what''s got them so worked up?

    I perch on a high branch, observing. Part of me knows this is crazy. I''m deep in unfamiliar forest, spying on creatures that, not too long ago, were at war with demonkind. But another part... well, that part''s already imagining the incredible scenes we could create with their help.

    If I can find their chief, if I canmunicate our intentions... this could be the solution to our Ent problem.

    ***

    (Eli Trek POV)

    Today''s different. Really different. There''s a whole bunch of demons in our forest, and they''re not just passing through. They''re setting up weird-looking equipment, like they''re nning to stay a while. It''s got my fur standing on end.

    I was trying to get a better look when this young demon spotted me. There was something about him - a kind of power I''ve never felt before. It sent me scurrying back into the underbrush faster than you can say "troll stew".

    I had to warn the others. Found a group of our usual troublemakers not far from the vige. They''re always looking for a chance to pull pranks on travelers, but this is different. This is dangerous.

    "Listen up, you lot," I say, trying to sound as stern as my father does when he''s in chief mode. "I know you love your fun, but today''s off-limits. There''s a bunch of demons over there," I point towards the clearing, "and they look like they mean business. No pranks today, got it?"

    Gornuk, always the whiner, pipes up. "Aw,e on, Princess. If we don''t have our fun, how are we supposed to get motivated for the hunt? The vige needs to eat, you know."

    "Yeah," Lissa chimes in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "If anything, more demons means more fun! Imagine their faces when the trees start moving at night!"

    The others nod eagerly, and I can feel a headacheing on. Sometimes I wonder if I''m the only sane troll in this forest.

    "No," I say, putting my foot down. "This is serious. Before anyone does anything stupid, we need to talk to my father."

    Reklo, all muscle and no brains, crosses his arms. "Do we really need to bother the chief with this?"

    I fix him with my best ''don''t mess with me'' re. "Yes, Reklo, we do. These aren''t your usual travelers. They''re city demons, and one of them..." I suppress a shudder, remembering that strange power. "One of them is different. Dangerous."

    Reklo looks like he wants to argue, but something in my face must convince him. After a bit more grumbling, they all agree toe with me to the vige.

    We weave through the familiar paths of our forest, the smell of moss and damp earth filling my nose. Soon, our little vigees into view, bustling with trolls going about their day.

    "Hello, Princess," they call out as we pass. I try to smile back, but my mind''s too full of worry to manage more than a grimace.

    We make for the slightlyrger house at the center of the vige - Dad''s ce. As we enter, I see him lounging in his favorite chair, puffing on one of those cigarettes he gets from the demon towns. Show-off.

    He nods at me. "Daughter." Then his eyes flick to the group behind me. "What''s the matter? Why do we have Reklo and the others for a visit?"

    Before I can open my mouth, Reklo pipes up. "Chief, Eli says there''s a bunch of weird demons..."

    We take turns exining what we saw. Dad listens, his face growing more serious with each word.

    Finally, he sighs. "Just don''t get in their way. We don''t provoke the demons."

    Just as the words leave his mouth, there''s amotion outside. Dad frowns, grabbing his staff. "What''s happening?"

    We rush out, and my heart nearly stops. There, standing in the middle of our vige, is the young demon from before. The one with the strange power.

    "It''s him, father!" I blurt out, pointing. "He''s the demon I felt the weird power from!"

    Dad nods, his grip tightening on his staff. "I know..." He addresses the demon in themon tongue, his voice gruff. "Oh, young demon. What''s your business in my vige?"

    The demon doesn''t answer right away. Instead, he crouches down to our level, a smile ying on his lips. "So it''s true. A chief can speak themon tongue."

    Dad''s frown deepens. "Indeed. I learned it when I was a kid."

    The demon nods, then looks around at the panicking trolls. "I mean no harm," he says, his voice oddly soothing. "I''m just here to have a talk with you, chief."

    "Me?" Dad asks, surprise clear in his voice.

    The demon simply nods, his smile never wavering.

    "Who are you? How did you get here?" Father''s voice is gruff, but I can hear the undercurrent of worry.

    The demon''s eyes flick to me for a heartbeat, and a chill runs down my spine. That look... it''s knowing, almost amused. My stomach drops as realization hits me like a falling tree.

    He followed me. I led him straight to our vige.

    Before I can process the implications, the demon speaks, his voice smooth as polished stone. "My name is Arthur Morningstar."

    The name hangs in the air, heavy with significance. Morningstar. The demon royal family. I''ve heard whispers of that name, stories passed down in hushed tones around our vige fires. Tales of power, of magic beyond our understanding.

    And now one of them is standing in our vige, because of me.

    I want to shrink into the ground, to disappear into the forest floor. But I force myself to stand tall.

    After all, I''m the one who brought a Morningstar to our doorstep.

 Chapter 50: LOTR Casting

    <h4>Chapter 50: LOTR Casting</h4>

    (Earl Trek POV)

    In all my years as chief of the Gloomstone trolls, I never imagined I''d be face-to-face with a demon in our vige. Let alone one seeking me out. And not just any demon, but a Morningstar.

    The name alone sends a chill down my spine. Morningstar. Rulers of thergest chunk of the Anatolia Continent. The family that has demon generals and lords at their beck and call. I''ve seen what one demon lord can do - the kind of power that could wipe our entire race off the map without breaking a sweat.

    And now, here''s one of their princes, crouching in our humble vige, smiling like he''se for afternoon tea.

    I grip my staff tighter, hoping the tremor in my hands isn''t visible. Every instinct screams at me to run, to hide, to do anything but stand here facing this impossibly powerful being. But I''m the chief. I can''t show fear. Not now.

    "What can I do for you, my lord?" I manage to ask, proud that my voice doesn''t quaver.

    As I wait for his response, my mind races. Why is he here? What could a Morningstar possibly want from us? We''re nothing in the grand scheme of things, just simple forest dwellers trying to live our lives in peace.

    I steal a nce at Eli, my daughter. She looks pale, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and... is that guilt? What does she know about this?

    I push the thought aside. Whatever''s happening, whatever this Arthur Morningstar wants, I need to handle it carefully. One wrong move, one misspoken word, and it could spell disaster for our entire vige.

    The fate of our people rests on this conversation.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    I size up the troll chief standing before me. He''s a bit taller than the others, with an air of intelligence that sets him apart. But what really catches my eye is the fear - not just on his face, but mirrored in every troll around us. It''s like they''re expecting me to breathe fire or something.

    Time to put them at ease. Or at least, as much as possible.

    "I''m here for a proposal, Mr..." I trail off, realizing I''ve forgotten a crucial detail. "You are?"

    The chief straightens up a bit. "I''m Earl Trek, my lord."

    "Earl Trek," I repeat, letting the name settle. "Well, Mr. Trek, I have a proposition for you and your people." I gesture to the crowd of wide-eyed trolls. "I''m offering you a job."

    You''d think I''d just announced the sky was falling. Earl''s jaw drops, and a wave of shocked murmurs ripples through the crowd.

    "A job?" Earl echoes, like he''s never heard the word before.

    I nod, fighting back a grin. "Yes, a job."

    Earl''s brow furrows. "What job, my lord? We are nothing but trolls, mere forest dwellers."

    Now it''s my turn to smile. "That''s exactly why I need you. Your magic, your ability to control the ancient trees - that''s what I''m after."

    The murmuring grows louder. I can''t understand a word, but the mix of confusion and excitement is clear enough.

    Earl trantes their sentiment. "You need us for controlling the ancient trees?"

    I nod again, thenunch into an exnation of my film project. As I talk, I can see the fear in Earl''s eyes slowly being reced by curiosity, maybe even a hint of interest.

    Especially when I get to the part about trading city resources - food, tools, things they can''t easily get out here in the forest. It''s like watching a flower bloom; Earl''s posture rxes, his eyes light up.

    Who knew? Turns out trolls and demons aren''t so different after all. We all like a good deal.

    ***

    (Klein Schemer POV)

    Two days since Boss Arthur headed off to Gloomstone Forest, and I''ve been up to my horns in casting calls. Who knew finding the right extras and supporting roles could be such a headache? But we''re getting there, slowly but surely.

    The elves were a mixed bag. Firfel''s on board as Arwen, thank the dark lords. Having a familiar face ¨C and a talented one at that ¨C is a relief. The rest of the elven roles? Not as tricky as I feared. Turns out there''s no shortage of elves eager to be part of a Hellfire Studios production.

    Dwarves were a breeze. Plenty of them call Morningstar Kingdom home, and they''re not shy about stepping in front of a camera. Though I didn''t have to cast Gimli ¨C George, the boss''s dwarf buddy, practically strong-armed his way into that role. Hope he can act as well as he can tinker.

    While casting elves and dwarves has been a breeze, finding our "Hobbits" is proving to be a whole different kettle of fish. Boss Arthur was very specific about what he wants for these roles, especially for the main character.

    "Hobbits" - this fictional race Boss dreamed up - they''re not your average mythical creatures.

    Fortunately, we''ve found that half-human, half-dwarf individuals fit the bill pretty well.

    It''s like Arthur had them in mind when he came up with Hobbits. We''ve managed to cast a bunch of them for the supporting Hobbit roles, but finding our Frodo Baggins? That''s turning into a real headache.

    Arthur''s description of Frodo is ridiculously specific. He needs to have this innocent look, but with a hint of determination in his eyes. Not too tall, not too short (even for a half-dwarf), with curly hair that''s just the right shade of brown.

    We''ve seen dozens of hopefuls, but none of them quite hit the mark. Too tall, too gruff, not innocent-looking enough - the list of "almosts" is growing by the day. I''m starting to wonder if this perfect Frodo exists outside of Arthur''s imagination.

    The worst part? I can''t even fall back on using pure humans or pure dwarves. Arthur''s adamant that the Hobbits need to be distinct from both races. It''s like trying to find a unicorn in a stable full of horses.

    Just when I''m about to tear my horns out over this Frodo casting, the perfect candidate walks through the door. This half-human, half-dwarf guy shows up and nails the audition. He''s got that innocent look with a hint of determination that Boss Arthur''s been harping on about. I''m practically salivating at the thought of finally filling this role.

    But before I can even open my mouth to offer him the part, a familiar voice pipes up beside me.

    "What''s your name?"

    I nearly jump out of my skin. It''s Boss Arthur, appearing out of nowhere like some kind of magical jack-in-the-box.

    "Boss? You''re back so soon?" I stammer, trying to hide my surprise.

    Arthur just nods, his eyes fixed on our potential Frodo.

    "My name is Kurt Vault," the actor says, looking a bit starstruck.

    Without missing a beat, Arthur says, "You''ll be having the role of Frodo Baggins. Wee."

    And just like that, it''s done. Days of searching, and Boss swoops in to make the final call in seconds. That''s Arthur for you ¨C always full of surprises.

    After Kurt leaves, Arthur turns to me. "How''s the casting here?"

    I puff up a bit, proud of our progress. "It''s going well, boss."

    Arthur''s smile has that hint of mischief I''vee to recognize. "Speaking of which, how''s our human casting going in Empirica? Any good news?"

    Oh, right. I nearly forgot about that in all the Frodo excitement. "Actually, yeah. Mochi and the crew just sent word. They''ve locked in actors for Gandalf and Saruman. Seems Eric Roosevelt''s been a big help with the casting over there."

    "Very good," Arthur nods, looking pleased. He ps me on the shoulder. "I''m heading back to the Eastern Province. We''re fixing up a spot for the Hobbit houses there."

    Wait, what? "Eastern Province? I thought you were in Gloomstone Forest, boss."

    Arthur just chuckles, like I''ve said something amusing. "Time waits for no demon, Klein. We''ve got to keep moving, hit all our filming spots, get everything ready. Tomorrow, we''re off to the dark province by the Ashen ins."

    Before I can ask any more questions, he''s gone, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open like some ck-jawed imp.

    As I watch him disappear around the corner, my brain starts to catch up. Hang on a second... Didn''t he just say he came from the Eastern Province? And now he''s going back? And tomorrow he''ll be in apletely different part of the kingdom?

    I shake my head, trying to make the pieces fit. How in the nine hells is he moving around so fast?

 Chapter 51: Catâ€™s already out of the bag

    <h4>Chapter 51: Cat''s already out of the bag</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The Eastern Province is a breath of fresh airpared to the other ces I''ve been in the Morningstar Kingdom. Here in the Green Forest, it''s like someone plucked Hobbiton straight out of my imagination and nted it right here in our realm. The rolling hills, the lush greenery - it''s perfect for bringing the Shire to life.

    I''ve sunk a small fortune into this ce already. Fifty thousand dors to apany in Grass City to build our Hobbit houses. Most are just facades - all exterior, no interior - but Bilbo''s ce is the real deal, inside and out. It''s got to be perfect; after all, it''s where our story begins.

    Getting the permits was a whole adventure in itself. Had to schmooze the lord of Grass City, convince him that letting a bunch of demons y make-believe in his forest was a good idea. But money talks, and a hundred thousand dorster, we''re the proud owners of 100,000 square meters of prime Hobbiton real estate.

    A thousand dors per square meter. It''s enough to make even a demon''s wallet weep. But I couldn''t care less about the cost. This isn''t just an expense; it''s an investment.

    Sure, I could''ve just rented thend, but where''s the vision in that? If "Lord of the Rings" takes off like I think it will, this ce could be a goldmine. Just look at what happened with "The Demonfather" locations - tourists flocking in, eager to walk in Michael Corleone''s footsteps.

    Imagine what they''ll do for a chance to step into the Shire.

    ***

    It''s been five days since we started building Hobbiton in the Green Forest. I''ve been busy overseeing filming locations across the kingdom.

    I''ve decided on the Shadow ins in the dark province bordering Ashen ins for Mordor. It fits the bill perfectly.

    Gloomstone Forest is pulling double duty. The shallow parts match Fangorn, while the deeper sections work well for Mirkwood.

    I''ve struck a deal with the trolls to help with some scenester. Their tree maniption skills will be useful.

    As for the primal orcs in the deep forest, that''s been trickier. They seem to hate us demons especially. I''ve heard their chiefs and elders can speakmon tongue, but I haven''t made contact yet. I''ll need to get stronger before I try reasoning with them.

    From what I''ve gathered, these orcs aren''t as unreasonable as I first thought. They don''t attack people randomly, instead hunting forest wildlife like goblins, boars, and monkeys for food.

    It''s interesting - even the animals here can use magic. That makes hunting challenging for the orcs.

    There''s still a lot to figure out, but we''re making progress. One step at a time.

    An hourter, the construction crew chief calls me over. "Mr. Morningstar, Bilbo''s house is ready."

    Curiosity gets the better of me, and I head straight there. Stepping inside, I can''t help but grin. It''s like my drawings havee to life. Sure, it''s missing some essories, but the bones are there. We''re really doing this.

    Outside, I gather the team. "Alright," I say, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. "Tomorrow morning, we start filming. Get some rest tonight - it''s going to be a busy day."

    A chorus of "Understood, boss" rings out. Their faces are all business. Good. We''ll need that focus.

    I nce over at our cast. Jeremy, our Bilbo, is chatting with some of the other half-human, half-dwarf actors we''ve roped in as extras. In the corner, Kurt Vault - our Frodo - stands quietly, taking it all in. Kid looks nervous, but he''s got the right look. He''ll do fine.

    Then there''s Gerald Matthew, our Gandalf, watching everything with those piercing eyes of his. I''ve got to hand it to him - for a human from Empirica, he''s been surprisingly cool about working with a bunch of demons. No condescension, just professionalism. I can respect that.

    I check my watch. Time to head back to the capital and grab somest-minute supplies.

    I make my way to the small hobbit house we won''t be using for filming. From the outside, it looks just like the others - quaint, unassuming. Perfect for hiding a secret.

    Inside, it''s bare. No frills, no essories. Just an empty space and a well-concealed trap door. Only a handful of people know about this ce, and they''re not allowed in without me. Can''t be too careful.

    I crouch down, running my hand along the floor until I feel the slight indentation. Pressing down and sliding it to the left, I hear a soft click. The trap door pops open, revealing adder descending into darkness.

    As I climb down, my weight on thedder triggers the mechanism, and the door above me slides shut. Wouldn''t want any curious actors - or nosy crew members - stumbling upon this.

    The hidden room is cool and quiet. In the center sits the inactive portal, waiting. I pull out the stone, whisper the activation phrase, and watch as the air shimmers and warps.

    One step, a moment of disorientation, and I''m in the studio''s hidden room. Just like that - from the Shire to the city in the blink of an eye.

    "Wee back, boss."

    I turn to see George hunched over our puter project" table, tinkering away as usual. "Is our new colored camera ready?" I ask, cutting straight to the chase.

    George''s face lights up like a kid on Hellmas morning. "Ready? It''s more than ready. Those babies are several times better than our first camera. With the budget you gave me, I''ve improved everything - color, handling, lenses, stands, the works."

    "Where are they? We start filming tomorrow," I remind him.

    "Wait here," George says, practically bouncing with excitement as he disappears into the other room.

    He returns, a camera bnced precariously between his shoulders. I wince. "Careful with that," I warn.

    "I know, I know," he grumbles, gently setting it down.

    But he''s not done. George keeps shuttling back and forth, bringing out camera after camera, along with stands and what looks like enough equipment to film three movies simultaneously.

    I can''t help but chuckle. "You really outdid yourself, huh?"

    George beams with pride. "I even have backup lenses in case anything breaks," he says, patting a nearby case. "And get this - using your blueprint for increasing the aspect ratio, I''ve managed to push these cameras to a 2.40:1 ratio. The lenses are crafted with a precise curvature that allows for a wider field of view without distortion."

    George holds up a roll of film, his eyes gleaming with pride. "I''ve also sessfully applied that idea from your blueprint. Like in theputer, I''ve put a memory in the camera, though it couldn''tpare to ourputer."

    "You were able to do it?" I ask, genuinely surprised. I knew George was good, but this is beyond my expectations.

    He nods enthusiastically. "Yes. This ''memory'' can help correct color and other issues as we''re filming. It''s not perfect - we''ll still need to edit afterwards - but it gives us a much better starting point."

    I can''t help but smile, patting him on the shoulder. "Good work, George."

    With the tech update out of the way, I shift gears. "What''s the news around here while I''ve been gone?" I ask, leaning against the workbench. Staying informed is crucial - you never know when a bit of news mighte in handy.

    George snaps out of his tech-talk trance, blinking as if remembering where he is. "Oh right, news. Actually..." He rummages through the clutter on his desk, fishing out a newspaper. "You might want to see this."

    I take the paper, and there I am, staring back at myself as Michael Corleone. The headline screams: "Exiled Prince Arthur''s Hellfire Studios Embarks on Biggest Film Project in World History. Millions Already Spent. Can Lightning Strike Twice After ''The Demonfather''?"

    I can''t help but smirk. "Well, they''re not wrong about the ''biggest'' part. But they''re a bitte to the party, aren''t they?"

    George nods, then hands me another paper. "There''s more."

    This one''s from closer to home: "Lord Antree of Grass City Reveals: Exiled Prince Purchases 100,000 sqm in Green Forest for Mystery Film Project."

    "Huh," I mutter, shaking my head. "Looks like Lord Antree couldn''t keep our little deal to himself. Can''t say I''m surprised."

    I skim through the articles, my mind already racing with potential implications. The cat''s out of the bag now, for better or worse.

 Chapter 52: Itâ€™s just a coincidence

    <h4>Chapter 52: It''s just a coincidence</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    With the cameras safely delivered to Green Forest, we''re on the brink of starting filming. As director, I''ve got to be on top of everything. But this time, I''m pulling double duty - I''m not just behind the camera, I''m in front of it too.

    Yeah. Just like with "The Demonfather" where I yed Michael Corleone, I''m taking on a role in "The Lord of the Rings." Aragorn, to be precise.

    I''ve been prepping like crazy for this. Even dipped into the Skills Shop and snagged some entry-level acting skills for a cool ten thousand points. It''s basic stuff, butbined with my own take on the character, it should do the trick. At least, that''s what I''m telling myself.

    Later that day, I swing by the studio to check on things. I''m looking for Imkrag, our Gollum, and holy hellfire - I almost don''t recognize him.

    In just a week, he''spletely transformed. His once-bushy afro is now thin and stringy, just like Gollum''s. And his body? It''s like he''s shrunk and stretched at the same time, all sinewy muscle and bulging eyes. Those potions really did a number on him.

    "Imkrag," I call out, and the crew turns, surprised to see me.

    Lilith pipes up, "You''re back, boss?"

    I nod, not bothering to exin myings and goings. My eyes are fixed on Imkrag. It''s uncanny how much he looks like the Gollum in my mind''s eye.

    "You''ve really embraced the role, Imkrag," I say, impressed despite myself. "That''s some serious dedication."

    Imkrag looks down, seemingly embarrassed by the praise. "I''m honored that you like it, your high-" He catches himself. "I mean, boss."

    I make a mental note to check on his health. Those potions might be effective, but they''re not exactly gentle. Still, seeing Imkrag''s transformation, I can''t help but feel a surge of excitement. If this is the level ofmitment we''re working with, this film is going to be something truly special.

    ***

    After wrapping up my chat with Imkrag about his health, I turn to Lilith. "How''s the cast doing? Everyone settled in okay?"

    Lilith nods, a hint of pride in her voice. "Yes, boss. We''ve got everyonefortable, especially Ms. Evergreen and Mr. Darkme."

    "Great. Where are they now?"

    "In the rehearsal room," Lilith replies.

    I make my way down the corridor, lost in thought. The walls are stered with "The Demonfather" posters - Don Vito''s steely gaze, Michael''s calcting stare. A smile tugs at my lips.This film changed everything for us. Without it, we''d still be crammed in that tiny warehouse, dreaming big on a shoestring budget.

    As I push open the rehearsal room door, all eyes turn to me. There''s a shift in the air - a mix of excitement and nerves. Firfel gives me a warm smile, already used to my antics from our previous work. Rupert, too, seems at ease. The others look like they''ve seen a ghost.

    I wave casually, trying to break the tension. "Don''t mind me, just popping in."

    I make my way over to Firfel, unable to resist a bit of yful charm. "Mydy," I say with a grin, taking her hand and giving her ring a quick peck. "How''s life treating you post-Demonfather?"

    Firfelughs, a sound that never fails to lighten the mood. "Oh, you know, the usual chaos. Though I must say, this new gentlemanly act is quite the surprise. What happened to the scruffy director I used to know?"

    I chuckle, shaking my head. "Just showing my appreciation. It means a lot that you chose this project over all those fancy human productions."

    "Well," Firfel says with a twinkle in her eye, "someone has to keep you on your toes, don''t they?"

    Rupert chimes in, his voice carrying a hint of reverence, "It''s an honor to be part of Prince Arthur''s project."

    I turn to him, unable to suppress a chuckle. "Well, well, Rupert... Looks like someone''s learned the fine art of ttery."

    Firfel giggles, and I catch a faint blush creeping up Rupert''s cheeks.

    "It''s not just ttery," Rupert insists, straightening up. "This project of yours... it''s ambitious. Groundbreaking, even."

    I can''t help but smile at his earnestness. "Funny, isn''t it? You turned down Sonny because you thought the project wouldn''t amount to much. Look how that turned out." I lean in, adding with a yful wink, "You''re not trying to jinx us by singing praises now, are you?"

    Rupert''s blush deepens. "Rejecting Sonny was my mistake, I admit that." He pauses, his expression growing serious. "But I''m not jinxing anything. I genuinely believe in this project, Arthur. Even if the media tries to tear it down, I''m behind it one hundred percent."

    I reach out, giving his shoulder a friendly pat. "Just focus on nailing your part, Rupert. That''s all I ask."

    He nods, a determined glint in his eye. "Of course. I''ve been living and breathing Boromir. I think I can do him justice."

    "That''s what I like to hear," I say, feeling a surge of excitement for what''s toe. With this level of dedication from the cast, we might just pull off something spectacr.

    I turn to Firfel, curiosity piqued. "And you, mydy? How are you finding your role?"

    Firfel''s smile is warm, but there''s a glint of something in her eye. "I''m doing well, thank you. Though I am curious about something." She pauses, her gaze sharpening. "Arwen, my character, is Aragorn''s love interest. Who, may I ask, will be ying Aragorn?"

    I can''t help the mischievous grin that spreads across my face as I point to myself, saying nothing.

    Rupert''s eyes widen. "You''re ying Aragorn?"

    I nod, watching their reactions.

    Firfel doesn''t seem surprised, but her lips quirk up in amusement. "I''m starting to notice a pattern here, Arthur."

    "Oh? What pattern?" I ask, feigning innocence.

    "You as Aragorn, me as his lover, Arwen," she says, her tone yful but with an undercurrent of... something else. "Doesn''t this feel familiar?"

    Rupert chimes in, realization dawning on his face. "Now that you mention it, weren''t you two lovers in ''The Demonfather'' as well?"

    Firfel nods, her gaze never leaving mine. "Indeed we were. And now, here we are again. Be honest with me, Arthur... Are there any underlying motives I should know about?" She raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity.

    I feel a flush creeping up my neck. "What? No, it''s just a coincidence," I say, perhaps a bit too quickly.

    Rupert, sensing the tension, starts backing away. "I think I know what you''re up to, Your Highness," he says with a knowing smirk. "But I''ll leave you two to it." And with that, he''s gone, leaving me alone with Firfel.

    I watch him go, suddenly very aware of Firfel''s presence beside me. "What''s he talking about?" I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

    Firfel''sugh is soft, but it fills the space between us. "Oh, Arthur," she says, her voice tinged with amusement. "For someone so clever, you can be quite oblivious sometimes."

    I turn back to her, feeling oddly vulnerable. "I have no idea what you mean," I say, but even I can hear the uncertainty in my voice.

 Chapter 53: LOTR Action!

    <h4>Chapter 53: LOTR Action!</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The makeshift studio buzzes with nervous energy as we prepare for our first scene. I scan the set, taking in every detail. The crew scurries about, makingst-minute adjustments, while the cast runs through their lines one final time.

    My eyesnd on Shafel, our Gdriel.

    She''s chatting with Firfel; they seem to be getting along well.

    I have to admit, while Firfel will always hold a special ce in my heart, Shafel has a certain ethereal quality that''s perfect for Gdriel. It''s not just about beauty - it''s about presence, and Shafel has it in spades.

    Taking a deep breath, I p my hands, drawing everyone''s attention. "Alright, folks, this is it. We''re about to start rolling. Everyone to your ces."

    The chatter dies down as the three elven actors - Shafel and two male elves whose names escape me at the moment - take their positions.

    I make my way to the director''s chair, feeling the weight of expectation settle on my shoulders.

    "Quiet on set," I call out, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. "And... action!"

    The scene springs to life. Our elven actors slip on their rings with practiced grace, their expressions shifting to one of wonder.

    The camera zooms in on Shafel, capturing every nuance of her fascination.

    I nod to Elizabeth, our resident wind mage. "Cast the wind spell."

    A gentle breeze sweeps across the set, making the actors'' hair dance. But suddenly¡ª

    "Cough!"

    Jason, one of our male elves, chokes on the unexpectedly strong gust.

    "Cut!" I call out, unable to hold back a chuckle. The set erupts inughter, the tension breaking like a dam.

    As we reset for another take, Jason approaches me, worry etched on his face. "I messed up... Will I be reced?"

    I shake my head, still grinning. "No, no. It''s not your fault." I turn to our overzealous wind mage. "Elizabeth, try dialing it back a notch, yeah?"

    "Yes, boss," she nods, looking slightly sheepish.

    Jason still seems on edge, so I give his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Hey, don''t sweat it. If you''re worried about wasted film, don''t be. We''ll use it for bloopers."

    "Bloopers?" Jason echoes, confusion recing worry.

    "Yeah, you know, funny outtakes. Trust me, the audience loves that stuff." I sh him a conspiratorial wink. "Now, let''s nail this scene, shall we?"

    As everyone retakes their positions, I can''t help but feel a surge of affection for this ragtag bunch. We might not be the most polished crew in the business, but damn if we don''t have heart.

    "Alright, people. Take two. And... action!"

    The first scene wraps quickly - just a few seconds of the elves gazing at their rings in wonder, Shafel''s golden hair dancing in the magical breeze. It''s short, but powerful. I can already envision how it''ll set the tone for the entire film.

    We move on, scene by scene, each one a piece of the puzzle that will be our epic tale. The furnace where the rings are forged glows with an otherworldly light, casting long shadows across the set.

    Next up are the dwarves. Seven of them, decked out in intricate costumes that would make any dwarf lord proud. They cradle their rings, their eyes gleaming with a mix of awe and greed that sends a shiver down my spine. It''s perfect.

    The human kings follow, six noble figures sumbing to the allure of power. Thene the demons - our stand-ins for the nine mortal men. For their scene, I''ve gone all out with the set design. mes lick at the edges of the frame, shadows dance ominously. It''s deliciously over-the-top, and I love every second of it.

    Hours fly by as we shoot and reshoot, perfecting each moment. By the time we wrap, I''m exhausted but exhrated. We''re making progress.

    There''s just one piece missing - Sauron forging the One Ring in Mount Doom. But that can wait. The armor will make Sauron easy enough to cast, but first, we need our army of orcs.

    As I wrap up for the day, my mind''s already racing ahead. Casting orcs in a world where they actually exist... I''ve got to admit, it''s a fascinating challenge.

    But ''fascinating'' doesn''t mean ''easy''. A few days back, I bit the bullet and spent a whopping two hundred thousand Entertainment Points on a powerful spell called the Nether Surge. It''s some seriously dark magic that boosts mana and magical power.

    Now my Entertainment Points are practically on life support. Even with "The Demonfather" still raking in cash - 170 million and counting, a record-breaker if I do say so myself - the influx of points has slowed to a trickle. I''m down to about ten thousand points. It''s still growing, sure, but nowhere near the flood it was before.

    Was it worth it? I''d like to think so. I''ve been holed up in the training area, practicing this new spell until I''m blue in the face. It''s all for the orcs, though. From what I know, they only respect raw power. So that''s exactly what I''m going to give them.

    The n is simple: walk into orc territory, flex some magical muscle, and hope they''re impressed enough to willingly join my little film project.

    ***

    Filming''s never a walk in the park, but we''re managing. It''s funny how a few seconds on screen can eat up hours of our lives. But that''s the magic of cinema, I suppose.

    With the interior scenes wrapped, it''s time to head back to Green Forest. I don''t need to drag the whole studio team along - I''ve got another crew camped out there, ready and waiting. It''s a bit extravagant, having two full teams, but hey, that''s what those millions in the bank are for, right?

    I step through the portal, and bam - I''m back in Green Forest. The crew there jumps like they''ve been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Guess they were enjoying the downtime a bit too much.

    "Boss, you''re here already- um, wee back," one of them stammers, trying to look busy.

    I can''t help but chuckle. "Alright, guys, vacation''s over. Time to earn your keep."

    Morning breaks over our makeshift Shire, and we dive right into Gandalf''s arrival. The old wizard''s meeting with Frodo is pivotal, setting the stage for everything toe.

    Watching Kurt bring Frodo to life is something else. Sure, he flubs a line here and there, and we have to reshoot a few times, but there''s an authenticity to his performance that gives me goosebumps. The kid''s a natural, no two ways about it.

    As night falls, the set transforms into a bustle of activity. It''s Bilbo''s eleventy-first birthday, and we''re pulling out all the stops. The air crackles with excitement - and magic.

    See, fireworks in this world aren''t just gunpowder and pretty colors. They''re imbued with honest-to-goodness spells, capable of conjuring fantastical disys that would make even the most jaded pyrotechnician weep with joy. It''s costing us a small fortune, but the authenticity it brings to the scene is priceless.

    People here will see these magical fireworks and instantly connect. It''s not just special effects - it''s a slice of their reality, elevated to cinematic proportions.

    But I couldn''t resist adding a touch from my past life. Working with our wizard department, we''ve crafted a special firework. It''s a dragon, just like in the original film, brought to life with aplex cocktail of illusion spells and other magical trickery I can barely wrap my head around.

    The scrolls for this particr firework cost more than some people''s yearly sry, but as I watch it soar over our Shire set, scattering hobbits (well, our half-human half-dwarf actors) in its wake, I know it''s worth every penny.

    This, right here, is the magic of moviemaking.

    It''s taking the familiar and making it extraordinary. As I call "Cut!" on another take, I can''t help but grin.

    We''re not just making a movie - we''re creating a whole new world.

 Chapter 54: More difficult

    <h4>Chapter 54: More difficult</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The sky above our set explodes with color, each firework more dazzling than thest. Even from here, I can see the awe on the faces of the folks from Grass City. It''s a spectacle alright, one that''s drawing a bit too much attention forfort.

    Demonfolk start creeping onto our set, their curiosity getting the better of them. It''s wreaking havoc on our carefully crafted scenes.

    "Keep them back," I call out to my team. "We can''t afford to lose these shots."

    My crew springs into action, forming a human... well, demon barrier. But these onlookers are persistent buggers.

    Watching ra, one of my crew, get knocked over by an overeager fiend demon, something in me snaps. Time to bring out the big guns.

    I activate the Nether Surge, feeling dark energy crackle around me. The air grows heavy, thick with power. Even I''m a bit taken aback by the intensity.

    The fiend demon who pushed ra freezes, his eyes going wide with fear. He''s not the only one - I can see the terror rippling through the crowd, even my own team looks shaken.

    "Go away," I say, my voice unnaturally calm.

    It''s like I''ve flipped a switch. The crowd parts, demons scurrying away like they''ve seen... well, something scarier than themselves.

    As the set clears, I let the power ebb away. Damn, that spell packs a punch. Mental note: maybe tone it down a notch next time. Don''t want to give the crew nightmares.

    But as I help ra to her feet, I can''t help but think - if this is how demons react, how will the orcs handle it? Guess I''ll find out soon enough.

    For now, though, we''ve got a party to film. "Alright,," I call out, pping my hands. "Back to work."

    The fireworks resume, painting the night sky with bursts of color and magic. From my vantage point, I can hear snippets of conversation from the now-subdued Grass City crowd.

    "Did you see that? I never expected the weak prince to have such intimidating power," one voice whispers.

    Another chimes in, "Maybe we''re just imagining it. It''s probably because we''ve seen ''The Demonfather''. We''re confusing him with Michael."

    "You''re right," a third agrees. "It must be Michael we''re scared of, not the prince."

    "That''s the only exnation that makes sense."

    I can''t help but chuckle to myself. They''ve written off the Nether Surge as some sort of collective hallucination. Fine by me - less exining to do.

    With the distractions gone, we power through the rest of the night''s shoot. It''s grueling work, but seeing Bilbo''s partye to life makes it all worth it.

    As we finally wrap up, exhaustion hits me like a ton of bricks. My crew and I trudge to our tents, dead on our feet but satisfied with a night''s work well done.

    "Don''t forget the protection spell," I remind them, stifling a yawn. "Last thing we need is a pack of hellhounds crashing our beauty sleep."

    One of the crew members nods sleepily. "On it, boss. No hounds are getting past us tonight."

    Hellhounds roam the Green Forest in packs, their glowing eyes piercing through the mist. But they''re not the only creatures to watch out for.

    The Thunder Bears stand tall among the trees, their massive forms crackling with electric energy. One swipe of their paws can send bolts of lightning through an unsuspecting traveler.

    The forest floor crawls with Luminous Slimes, gtinous beings that pulse with an eerie, internal light. Shadowcats prowl the darker areas, their fur absorbing light and making them nearly invisible in the gloom.

    High in the canopy, Sprite Monkeys chatter and leap from branch to branch, trailing sparks of magical energy in their wake. And in the deepest parts of the forest, ancient Crystal Tortoises lumber about, their shells encrusted with valuable, magical gems.

    Thoughts of forest creatures fade as exhaustion takes over. I''m out like a light the moment my head hits the pillow.

    We''ve wrapped Bilbo''s party and Gandalf''s ominous warning to Frodo. Not bad for a night''s work. Tomorrow''s another beast entirely - we''re tackling the ck Riders chasing Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. It''s going to be intense.

    ***

    Morninges too soon. The set''s buzzing as we prep for the ck Riders scene. I give our Nazg?l a once-over, impressed by the armor my art team''s cooked up. It''s menacing as hell - perfect.

    "How''s it feel in there?" I ask one of the extras, eyeing the hefty getup.

    "Manageable, sir,"es the muffled reply.

    Fair enough. I turn to the crew, pping my hands to get their attention. "Alright, people. ces. We''re rolling in five."

    The set falls silent as everyone takes their positions. I feel my expression harden, slipping into what the crew jokingly calls my "director mode."

    "Ready when you are, boss," my AD calls out.

    With a final nce around the set, I give the nod. "And... action!"

    ***

    It''s been over a few weeks since we started filming, and we''ve made decent progress. We''ve captured Frodo''s escape and Gandalf''s return to Isengard. The Isengard scenes... now those were a challenge and a half.

    I''ve sank thirty thousand dors into building the exterior of Orthanc, Saruman''s imposing tower. It''s just a facade, mind you - all show and no substance. We erected it near our Shire set, taking advantage of the 100,000 square meters we''ve got in Green Forest. It''s far enough not to ruin the Shire''s quaint vibe, but close enough to be convenient.

    We have a model of Isengard for the sweeping shots, so capturing the city''s vantage point won''t be a problem.

    The tower itself is real enough, but everything beyond is smoke and mirrors - or in this case, magical projections and clever camera work. It''s not perfect, but it''s selling the illusion well enough.

    The interior scenes with Saruman and Gandalf''s magical duel were easier to pull off. Having actual wizards for actors has its perks - they can sling real spells. Of course, we''ve amped things up for dramatic effect. Can''t have our wizards'' duel looking like a schoolyard scuffle, after all.

    It''s a constant juggling act, bncing realism with spectacle. But seeing it alle together on film... it''s worth every headache and every dor spent.

    Though it''s bing clear that bringing "Lord of the Rings" to life is a whole different beastpared to "The Demonfather". Sure, having actual magic at our disposal helps, but it''s a double-edged sword.

    The illusions we''re using are burning through our budget faster than a dragon through a vige. And while real magic makes fight scenes more authentic, it''s also raising the bar for what looks convincing. It''s a constant battle to make things look spectacr enough for a fantasy epic, but still believable in a world where magic ismonce.

    Take Saruman and Gandalf''s confrontation. In my old world, Saruman''s telekinesis was mind-blowing. Here? It''s Tuesday. I had topletely reimagine the scene, amping up the magical duel to something that would actually impress our audience. The result is intense, maybe even more so than the original, but getting there nearly broke my brain.

    This obsession with authenticity is slowing us down considerably. We''re weeks into filming and barely halfway through. If we had CGI, we''d be flying through scenes. But everything''s practical effects here. It''s painstaking work, but the results... well, they speak for themselves.

    Today''s a big day, though. It''s finally time for my debut as Aragorn. As I suit up, I can''t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. It''s one thing to direct a fantasy epic. It''s another to star in it. Here''s hoping I can pull it off without making aplete fool of myself.

 Chapter 55: Genuine fear

    <h4>Chapter 55: Genuine fear</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    We''ve taken over a tavern in Horn Vige, just outside Grass City, rebranding it as the "Prancing Pony" for our shoot. The air''s thick with anticipation as we prep for the ring scene.

    "Remember, the ring needs to levitate just enough tond on Kurt''s finger," I remind the effects team. "It''s got to look idental, but deliberate. You know what I mean?"

    Mochi, one of the crew members I rehired, nods confidently. "We''ve got the trajectory down pat, boss. It''ll slip onto Kurt''s finger like it''s got a mind of its own."

    I can''t help but feel a bit d. Bringing these grads back was a smart move. Their mix of magical know-how and technical skills is proving invaluable.

    "Good. We''re shooting this in slow motion, so you''ll need to control Kurt''s fall too. Make it look dramatic."

    "Got it, boss," the team choruses.

    As everyone takes their positions, I feel myself slipping into character. The acting skills from the system skills shop are kicking in, but there''s something else too. ying Aragorn... it''s hitting close to home.

    An exiled prince, carrying the weight of a legacy he''s not sure he wants. The parallels aren''t lost on me. I draw on my own experiences - the feeling of being an outsider in my own family, the struggle to prove myself. But there''s also a determination there, a resolve to forge my own path.

    As I settle into Aragorn''s skin, I feel a strange mix of vulnerability and strength.

    "Ready when you are, boss," my AD calls.

    I take a deep breath, centering myself. "Action!"

    At my signal, the set springs to life. The extras settle into their roles, while the actual tavern regrs just... well, continue being themselves. Sometimes, reality is the best acting coach.

    I hunker down in my corner, deliberately making myself stand out by trying not to. It''s a delicate bnce, being conspicuously inconspicuous.

    This version of Aragorn is a bit different from the original. He''s half-demon, half-human, still heir to Isildur, but with an addedyer ofplexity. The Dunedain, his people, aren''t exactly rolling out the red carpet for him. It''s a wrinkle that adds some spice to the character.

    Kurt, in his role as Frodo, catches sight of me. He does a decent job of looking unnerved by the demon in the corner. As he leans in to question the waiter about me, I fix my gaze on him.

    In that moment, I''m not seeing Kurt the actor anymore. I''m Aragorn, sizing up Frodo, the unexpected bearer of the One Ring. There''s a weight to this interaction that goes beyond the script. It''s the meeting of two outcasts, each carrying a burden they never asked for.

    ***

    (Kurt POV)

    Being on the receiving end of Arthur''s intense stare is more unnerving than I''d anticipated. It''s not just acting anymore; I''m genuinely intimidated. There''s something in his eyes that reminds me of Michael Corleone right before all hell breaks loose. It''s chilling.

    I fidget with the ring, trying to look nervous - which, honestly, isn''t much of a stretch right now. Then I hear Sam (yed by Rory) call out "Frodo Baggins!" just like we rehearsed. That''s my cue.

    I scramble to my feet, aiming for a hasty retreat. As I weave through the crowd of extras and actual tavern patrons, I prepare for the fall. This is the tricky part.

    Suddenly, I feel the subtle tug of magic. Mochi and the effects team are working their spells, making my fall look natural while keeping me from actually face-nting. It''s a strange sensation, like I''m moving through msses.

    The ring floats alongside me, seemingly defying gravity. As my hand stretches out, the ring slips onto my finger with eerie precision. The moment it''s on, the magical support vanishes and I hit the floor with a convincing thud.

    In an instant, the illusion spell kicks in, and to everyone else, I''ve vanished into thin air. It''s a surreal experience, being invisible yet fully present.

    "Cut!" Arthur''s voice breaks the spell, so to speak.

    As I pick myself up, I can''t help but feel a mix of relief and excitement. I''ve pulled it off in just one shot.

    Arthur helps me to my feet, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Not bad, Kurt. Didn''t expect you to nail it in one take."

    "Thanks, boss," I manage, feeling a mix of pride and relief.

    But the moment''s short-lived. Arthur''s next words send a chill down my spine. "For the next scene, I need you to amp up the fear. Think you can handle that?"

    I hesitate. Being more scared? It sounds simple, but terror isn''t exactly my forte. "I''ll... I''ll do my best," I promise, not feeling particrly confident.

    We start rolling again, and I try my hardest to look terrified as I slip off the ring. But something''s off.

    "Cut!" Arthur''s voice rings out. He approaches, shaking his head. "You looked more scared when I was staring you down earlier. What happened?"

    I swallow hard. "Well, to be honest, I was actually scared of you back then."

    Arthur sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, new tactic. Imagine I''m still staring at you while you take off the ring. Can you do that?"

    We try again. And again. And again. But it''s not working. How am I supposed to be terrified of a simple gold band?

    After the fifth take, Arthur''s expression changes. "Alright, I''ve got an idea to help you out."

    Before I can ask what he means, we''re rolling again. I brace myself, trying to summon some fear for the camera.

    Suddenly, a wave of terror washes over me. It''s visceral, primal - like every nightmare I''ve ever had rolled into one. My eyes widen, my breath catches in my throat. With trembling hands, I yank the ring off my finger.

    As quickly as it came, the feeling fades. I''m left gasping, confused and shaken.

    What just happened?

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    It worked like a charm.

    Watching Kurt yank off the ring, his face a mask of genuine terror, I can''t help but chuckle to myself. The Nether Surge spell did its job beautifully, even if this wasn''t its primary function.

    The spell''s main purpose is to amplify magical power and mana, but its side effect of instilling fear in others is proving quite useful. All it took was a few muttered words, directing the spell''s energy towards Kurt, and boom - instant terror, picture-perfect for the camera.

    During the review, the crew and cast are falling over themselves praising Kurt''s "acting." I don''t bother correcting them. Sometimes, what they don''t know won''t hurt them.

    As we wrap up the scene where Aragorn reprimands Frodo, Kurt approaches me, his face a mix of confusion and suspicion.

    "Boss, I felt... terrified earlier," he says, eyeing the prop ring warily. "Did this thing do something?"

    I ster on a reassuring smile, patting his shoulder. "Don''t worry about it. Let''s focus on the next scene, shall we?"

    But I can see it in his eyes - he''s not buying it. That look screams "I know you know something."

    Well, can''t be helped. As long as we get the shots we need, a little mystery won''t hurt anyone. Besides, what''s a fantasy epic without some real magic behind the scenes?

 Chapter 56: Overtime

    <h4>Chapter 56: Overtime</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The past few days have been intense. The scenes with Kurt - Aragorn protecting Frodo from the ck Riders, the fight sequences - they''ve been challenging, but seeing the footage... it''s been worth every drop of sweat.

    Yesterday, we wrapped the scenes of Aragorn and the hobbits making their way towards Rivendell, with Frodo barely hanging on. Today, it''s Firfel''s big debut as Arwen.

    The effects team''s working overtime to amp up Firfel''s natural charm for the camera. Not that she needs much help in that department.

    When we get to Arwen''s reunion with Aragorn, I decide to dial up the intimacy.

    "Let me handle this," Firfel says, her hand finding mine with a tenderness that feels all too real.

    I meet her gaze, letting Aragorn''s centuries of longing seep into my expression. With a nod towards Kurt, I murmur, "He''s yours."

    Firfel smiles, and before she can react, I lean in and nt a quick kiss on her lips. "Go," I whisper.

    The surprise in Firfel''s eyes is genuine, but she doesn''t miss a beat. She nods, then mounts her horse, Kurt in tow, and gallops off.

    "Cut!" I call out, fighting to keep the grin off my face. That little improvisation should add some nice spice to the scene.

    Next up, we''ve got the ck Riders chasing Arwen. As the crew resets, I catch Firfel giving me a look that says we''ll be having wordster. But there''s a hint of a smile there too.

    This scene''s going to be a challenge to film, but after thatst take, I''m feeling pretty good about our chances.

    After hours of grueling work, we finally wrapped the chase scene. Now it''s time to tackle Rivendell. The set''s just beenpleted in a secluded part of Green Forest - another chunk ofnd I''ve acquired for the project.

    Most of the elven architecture is just for show, facades propped up against the forest backdrop. We''ve filled in the gaps with magical illusions, creating a seamless blend of practical effects and arcane trickery.

    As I review the footage, I can''t help but feel a swell of pride. It''s not CGI, but somehow, it looks even better than what I remember from my past life. There''s a tangibility to it, a sense of wonder that feels truly magical.

    The ethereal glow of the buildings, the way the light dances through the illusory trees - it''s breathtaking. And the best part? It''s real. Well, as real as anything gets in this world of magic and monsters.

    Looking at the yback, I can already imagine how audiences will react. This isn''t just a movie set - it''s a doorway to another world. And we''re the ones who built it.

    Changing the topic, today''s shoot was... interesting. The Council of Elrond scene is pivotal, and most of the cast nailed it.

    George, though? Let''s just say his Gimli leaves something to be desired. But hey, Gimli''s supposed to be a bit rough around the edges, so maybe George''sck of finesse is actually a stroke of genius. After a few takes and some not-so-subtle coaching, we managed to get it in the can.

    With filming wrapped for the day, I decided to sneak back to the capital. There''s been something nagging at the back of my mind - "Harry Potter". It should''ve hit the shelves about a week ago, and I''m itching to see how it''s doing.

    I throw on a hood before heading out. Being recognized as Michael from "The Demonfather" would throw a wrench in my ns. Instead of heading straight to Hellfire Stories - they think I''m off filming in the boonies - I make my way to one of the bookstores I bought to distribute our publications.

    As I push open the door, the bell chimes and the receptionist greets me with a cheerful, "Wee!" I nod back, making a beeline for the shelves. My eyes scan the spines, looking for that telltale title.

    I scan the fantasy section, my eyes darting from spine to spine. Nothing. I double-check, triple-check, but the result''s the same. No "Harry Potter" in sight.

    "Weird," I mutter, stroking my chin. "It should be out by now. What gives?"

    A knot forms in my stomach. Did something go wrong with the publication? As I''m lost in thought, the demoness at the reception desk pipes up.

    "Having trouble finding something, mister?"

    I turn, nodding. "Yeah, actually. I''m looking for a book called ''Harry Potter''."

    "Harry Potter?" she echoes, and for a moment, my heart sinks.

    But then she continues, "Oh, you''re out of luck today. That one sold out a few hours ago."

    "Sold out?" I repeat, not quite believing my ears.

    She nods enthusiastically. "It''s be insanely popr. Book lovers all over the city are moring for it-"

    Before she can finish, the door chimes and another demon bursts in. "Bookdy! Any restock on Harry Potter yet?"

    The receptionist shakes her head. "Not until tomorrow, I''m afraid."

    The neer groans. "I''ve been waiting since yesterday!"

    As the receptionist and the new customer chat about restocking, my mind races. Out of stock? This isn''t just good news - it''s fantastic.

    "Harry Potter" didn''t just make it to publication, it''s flying off the shelves. A smile tugs at my lips as I slip out of the store, unnoticed in themotion.

    The book''s poprity seems to have spread by word of mouth. I didn''t focus much on marketing, too wrapped up in the "Lord of the Rings" production. But somehow, it''s found its audience anyway.

    As I walk down the street, my grin widens. This is just the beginning. If the first book is this sessful without a major push, imagine what we could do with a proper marketing campaign for the sequels.

    In my past life, I knew "Harry Potter" was a phenomenon. But to see it happening again, in this world, with my own hands... it''s something else entirely.

    I make a mental note to check in with Hellfire Stories soon. We need to ramp up production, maybe even start nning for book two.

    ***

    (Grigori POV)

    "Move it, youzy demons! We don''t have time to ck off!" I bellow at my workers as we churn out copy after copy of "Harry Potter". It''s been days of this madness, and I''m about ready to tear my horns out.

    When we first released the book, I didn''t think much of it. "Rx," I told my team. "We don''t need to bust our tails for the exiled prince''s little pet project. It''ll never catch on."

    Oh, how wrong I was.

    First day? A trickle of sales. Second day? A bit better, but nothing to write home about. I was feeling pretty smug about my prediction.

    Then the third day hit. Hundreds of copies, flying off the shelves. I chalked it up to a fluke, a lucky break.

    But the fourth day? Thousands. And it just kept climbing from there.

    Now we can''t keep the damn thing in stock, and I''m cracking the whip to keep up with demand. Just as we''re hitting our stride, Marbas from distribution bursts in, demanding more copies.

    "Can''t you see we''re working our tails off here?" I snap, stress making my voice crack.

    As Marbas slinks out, I can''t help but wonder: what''s the deal with this book? Is it really that good? Or has the whole city gone mad?

    One thing''s for sure - I never thought I''d be losing sleep over some human boy wizard. Thanks a lot, Your Ex-Highness.

    As I''m about to get back to overseeing the printing, another interruptiones in the form of a messenger from Hellfire Stories headquarters.

    "Mr. Grigori," the young demon pants, clearly out of breath. "I''ve got urgent news from the main office."

    I barely suppress a groan. "What now? We''re already working at full capacity here!"

    The messenger swallows hard. "They... they want to double the print run. Effective immediately."

    For a moment, I''m sure I''ve misheard. "Double? Are they out of their minds?"

    But the messenger just nods, looking as bewildered as I feel. "They say pre-orders for the next shipment are through the roof. We need to meet demand or... or we''ll lose sales to copycats."

    I slump against the nearest printing press, my mind reeling. Double the output? With what resources? What staff?

    But then a thought hits me. If demand is this high, if we''re doubling production... that means our profit shares will skyrocket too.

    Suddenly, I''m filled with a new energy. I straighten up, pping my hands to get everyone''s attention.

    "Listen up, you ink-stained imps! We''ve got a new target. Double production, starting now! Anyone who can''t keep up can kiss their bonus goodbye!"

 Chapter 57: Adventurers and Orcs

    <h4>Chapter 57: Adventurers and Orcs</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    After weeks of filming scenes that didn''t involve orcs, I''ve finally decided it''s time to face them head-on. I''ve been testing my powers with {Nether Surge} in private, and if I''m gauging this right based on the ancient power scales, I should be at Arcane Schr level. That''s enough juice to take on a hundred Arcane Students or a dozen Junior Mages.

    The catch? I can only maintain {Nether Surge} for a limited time. Sure, practice will extend that limit and boost its power, but it''s still a finite resource. Without it, I''m barely scraping by at Junior Mage peak tier.

    It''s a sobering thought. I''m about to walk into orc territory with power that''s impressive by modern standards, but would''ve been considered entry-level back in the day. Still, it''s what I''ve got to work with.

    Truth is, power levels aren''t what they used to be.

    The old power level terminology is practically ancient history now. With billions of people in the world, mana''s spread thin, like butter scraped over too much bread. These days, an average person can''t even hit Junior Mage level, let alone reach Arcane Schr status.

    It''s the upper crust - nobles, royals, and the kids of big-shot politicians and business tycoons in non-royal countries - who get to y with the big leagues. They''ve got ess to those rare potions that cost more than most families make in a year.

    It''s no wonder "The Demonfather" struck such a chord. We''re living in a world that''s slowly leaving the "magical age" behind, focusing more on martial arts and military tech. Dwarven weapons are the new hot ticket - even the high-end stuff can tear through an Arcane Schr''s shield like it''s tissue paper.

    In a world where a good gun trumps most magic, those old power levels don''t mean much anymore. It''s a brave new world out there, and the rules of the game have changed.

    ***

    Before confronting the orcs, I made a quick trip back to the city via portal. First stop: the weapon shop. With my newly acquired sword skills, courtesy of the Skills Shop, I needed a de to match. I also picked up some decent armor - no point in being a walking target.

    Back in Gloomstone Forest, I suit up. Decked out in gleaming armor, sword at my hip, face hidden behind a mask and hood, I feel like I''ve stepped straight out of a fantasy novel.

    Strolling into the nearby town, I make my way to the Adventurers Guild. As I push open the doors, I catch snippets of conversation.

    "Get a load of that armor. Must be some rich kid ying hero."

    "Yeah, only nobles or bigshot business heirs can afford gear like that."

    I stifle a chuckle. If only they knew.

    But I''m not here just to show off. No.

    I need a crew, fellow adventurers to back me up in orc territory.

    Sure, I could probably take on a decent number of orcs with {Nether Surge}, but why tempt fate? Better to have backup and not need it than need it and not have it.

    Plus, there are practical considerations. Someone''s got to carry supplies, and it wouldn''t hurt to have extra hands for hauling back monster parts to sell to the guild. A little side hustle never hurt anyone, right?

    Having a few adventurers along means I can conserve my energy for when it really counts. The deep parts of Gloomstone Forest are no joke - we''re talking miles of potentially hostile territory. I''ll need to be at full strength when we finally encounter the orcs, which means pacing myself on the journey there.

    As I scan the guild hall, I''m looking for a mix of skills. Maybe a tracker who knows the forest, a brawny type for heavy lifting, and someone with healing abilities wouldn''t go amiss. It''s like casting for a film, really - each role needs to bring something unique to the table.

    I approach the guild master, keeping my voice low and mysterious. "I''m looking for capable adventurers for a dangerous mission into the deep forest. Any rmendations?"

    The guild master eyes me skeptically, probably trying to gauge if I''m some rich kid with a death wish or the real deal. After a moment, he nods towards a corner of the room.

    "Those three over there might be what you''re looking for. They''re experienced, and they work well together. But I warn you, stranger - they don''te cheap."

    I smile behind my mask. Money''s the least of my worries.

    I approach the trio the guild master pointed out. There''s a young man in worn armor - clearly a warrior type. Next to him, a hulking brute in mage robes, an interestingbo. The third is a young woman in ordinary-looking clothes, though I can sense the magical enhancements woven into the fabric.

    "What''s your deal, rich boy?" the warrior calls out as I near their table.

    No point in beating around the bush. "I''m in the market for some capable adventurers."

    The brute chimes in, "What for, mate? Lookin'' to y explorer?"

    "Maybe he wants a guided tour," the woman adds with a smirk.

    They share augh at my expense. Fine by me - let them underestimate me.

    "Actually, yeah. A tour sounds about right," I say, ying along. "You lot familiar with Gloomstone Forest?"

    The brute''s brow furrows. "Gloomstone Forest?"

    "That''s right. I need to get to the deeper parts. Looking for a guide who knows their way around."

    The woman chuckles. "The deeper parts? What, are rich kids so bored these days?"

    "Yeah, must have a death wish," the warrior adds.

    I cut through theirughter with six simple words: "I''ll pay well for the right skills."

    That shuts them up quick. They exchange nces, suddenly all business.

    "Now that I''ve got your attention," I continue, "let''s talk specifics. What can you bring to the table?"

    ***

    After some back-and-forth, I''ve got my team sorted. There''s Gordon, the young warrior with a chip on his shoulder. Charles is our brute mage, built like a tank but with a knack for spellcasting. Marjorie rounds out the trio, a chatty young woman with healing talents.

    Marjorie''s non-stop chatter reveals she''s an orphan from a Srus Church. Her healing skills are top-notch, so I hire her on the spot. Charles, besides his magical prowess, is built like an ox. He''s perfect for hauling our food supplies.

    Gordon, it turns out, used to hunt in Gloomstone Forest for a living. His knowledge of the terrain could be invaluable.

    With our roles set, we head out for orc territory.

    Our first encounter is with a group of goblins. I hang back, letting my hired hands prove their worth. They handle it well enough without my intervention.

    Later, we face off against a pack of hellhounds. This time, the adventurers struggle. Seeing them clearly out of their depth - and knowing they''ve been looking down on me - I decide to show my hand. Their surprised faces when they see what I''m capable of are almostical.

    Two days and nights into our journey, and we''re still not in orc territory. I had no idea it would be this far. Even with our tree-leaping shortcut, we''re still a considerable distance away.

    ***

    The next day, we finally spot signs of orc territory. Gordon turns to me, his face grim. "We''re here. These orcs are no joke. You sure you want to go through with this?"

    We''re crouched behind a bush, eyeing the orc tribe in the distance. I can feel the tension radiating from mypanions.

    "Of course," I reply, shing a smile. "No point turning back now. We''vee too far."

    Marjorie pipes up, curiosity getting the better of her. "Why do you even need to mess with orcs anyway?"

    I chuckle, keeping my cards close to my chest. "It''s none of your business."

    She rolls her eyes. "Ugh. You rich kids always do whatever you want when you''re bored."

    "Heh," is all I offer in response.

    Charles, ever the pragmatist, chimes in. "We''ll be ready whenever you are."

    I shake my head. "No. You guys stay put here. Take care of the supplies. I''ll face the orcs alone."

    "Are you serious?!" Marjorie gasps, then quickly covers her mouth, realizing how loud she was.

    "Dead serious," I confirm.

    Before they can protest further, I leap from our hiding spot, facing down about a dozen orcs. I can hear Marjorie trying to stop me, but Gordon holds her back.

    As Ind, I can''t help but admire the orcs. "Hey... Really perfect for my film..." I mutter, taking in their appearance. They''re exactly what I need for "Lord of the Rings."

    One orc, not appreciating my scrutiny, charges with an angry "Uga!"

    I activate {Nether Surge}, easily parrying his attack and kicking him away. Time to show these orcs - and my skepticalpanions - what I''m really made of.

 Chapter 58: Orc tribe

    <h4>Chapter 58: Orc tribe</h4>

    (Marjorie POV)

    "He''s a crazy rich guy, but he seems quite powerful!" I can''t help but exim, watching the rich kid take on the orcs single-handedly.

    Gordon nods, impressed despite himself. "I gotta admit, he is very skilled."

    "Yeah... I even felt a spooky aura around him," Charles adds. "He must be using a high-quality dark spell. That stuff doesn''te cheap!"

    Gordon scoffs, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Well, I guess it''s to be expected that he''s powerful. His family probably spoon-fed him quality potions and hired tutors to teach him those fancy spells. I''m so fucking jealous."

    As I watch the fight unfold, I have to agree. For a rich kid, being powerful isn''t exactly a challenge. But there''s something off about his movements. He''s skilled, sure, but there''s a rawness to his fighting style. It''s like he''s still getting used to his own power.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Damn, these orcs are tougher than I expected. I''m doing my best to parry their attacks without killing them. After all, I need them alive for casting.

    I dodge a punch, then deliver an uppercut that sends an orc crumpling to the ground. Ten minutes of intense fightingter, I''m surrounded by unconscious orcs sporting various bruises and ck eyes.

    Panting slightly, I call out to my hired help. "Hey,e here. We need to tie them up and look for more orcs."

    As the adventurers emerge from the bushes and start binding the orcs, Gordon pipes up. "Why didn''t you just kill these orcs anyway?"

    I fix him with a stern look. "I need them alive. That''s all you need to know. Don''t ask too many questions."

    As we work, I can''t help but feel a mix of exhaustion and exhration. One step closer to my orc army, but at what cost? My muscles ache, and I''m pretty sure I''ll be feeling this fight for days. The things I do for cinema...

    ***

    Hours after capturing the orcs, I''m still trying tomunicate with them. They just stare at me nkly, and I''m starting to feel like an idiot.

    Marjorie, ever helpful, chimes in. "They can''t speakmon tongue, you should know that."

    I roll my eyes. "Of course I know. I''m just trying."

    Gordon starts to exin, "They''re not high-level orcs. Maybe only the orc chief¡ª"

    Suddenly, one of the tied-up orcs interrupts, "We understandmon tongue, you fools."

    The silence that follows is deafening. We all exchange shocked nces before I burst into giggles, pointing at the vocal orc. "So you can talk, huh?"

    The orc nods, looking slightly annoyed.

    Gordon, clearly feeling insulted, snaps, "So you guys could talk all along and pretended not to?"

    Another orc pipes up, "We''re used to our ownnguage. But we''ve been learningmon tongue for years. It''s the only way our tribe can stay ahead of the others."

    Now my curiosity is piqued. "Ahead of other tribes? How so?"

    The orcs nod, and a third one exins, "It gives us an edge. We can understand what demons and other races are saying about us. Makes trading easier, too. Sometimes we overhear useful information about unguarded caravans or weaknesses in town defenses. And when adventurerse looking for a fight, we know their ns before they even reach our territory."

    I can''t help but be impressed. These orcs are smarter than I gave them credit for. This could change everything - not just for my film, but for how I approach this whole situation.

    "Well," I say, a grin spreading across my face, "looks like we have a lot to talk about."

    The orcs eye me warily, a mix of fear and curiosity in their gazes. Can''t me them, really. I did just hand them their green behinds.

    The burly one, clearly the leader, speaks up. "What do you want with us? Why capture us alive? There must be a reason."

    I can''t help but chuckle. "Take me to your tribe. I want to have a chat with them."

    A shorter orc bristles, anger overriding his fear. "We''ll not lead you to our tribe! We don''t know what you''re nning!"

    "Poku! Shut it," the leader snaps before turning back to me. "What do you want with our tribe? To capture them too?"

    Iugh, understanding their distress. They''ve seen what I can do. They know their whole tribe wouldn''t stand a chance.

    "Don''t worry. I''m not here to hurt anyone," I reassure them. "I just have a request. And you''ll be rewarded for it."

    The leader''s interest is piqued, but Poku isn''t having it. He spits out something in Orcish that I''m pretty sure trantes to "Don''t believe this cunning demon''s lies! He''s deceitful!"

    The leader ignores him, focusing on me. "What request?"

    Here goes nothing. Iunch into my pitch about the film, exining concepts they''ve clearly never heard of. Their confused expressions would beical if I weren''t so nervous about their response.

    As I talk, I notice my hired adventurers gaping at me. They look utterly baffled, probably thinking I''ve lost my mind for inviting orcs to be in a film.

    The burly orc scratches his head. "This... film. It''s like a story? But one people can see?"

    I nod eagerly. "Correct. And I want your tribe to be part of it. You''ll be paid, fed, and treated well. Plus, you''ll be famous!"

    The orcs exchange nces, a mix of confusion and intrigue on their faces. It''s not every day a demon offers orcs a job in show business, after all.

    The leader seems to be mulling it over. "And you swear no harm wille to our tribe?"

    "On my honor," I say solemnly, hoping they can''t see the crossed fingers behind my back. Hey, a little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

    The orc leader eyes me for a long moment before nodding. "Alright. I''ll lead you to our tribe."

    "Great," I say, unable to hide my grin.

    The other orcs start grumbling, clearly not on board with this n. Their leader barks something in Orcish, and they fall silent immediately.

    "Now that I''m taking you to our tribe," the leader says, turning back to me, "may we know who you are?"

    Oops. I''d forgotten I was still masked. I pull it off and extend my hand. "I''m Arthur Morningstar, by the way."

    The reaction is immediate. Eyes widen all around - orcs and adventurers alike.

    "You''re a Morningstar?!" the orc leader gasps, fear creeping into his voice.

    Marjorie and the others look equally shocked. "He''s the infamous prince!"

    I try to diffuse the tension with a chuckle. "Hey, now. Let''s not get too excited. And you are?" I ask the orc leader, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

    Still visibly shaken, he responds, "I am Oguga. Son of the chief of our tribe."

    "Perfect," I nod. "That makes things easier. You can talk to your dad about my project, get your tribesmen on board."

    Oguga falls silent, clearly reconsidering now that he knows my identity.

    Marjorie, meanwhile, can barely contain her excitement. "You''re including orcs in your next project, Your Highness? I just watched "The Demonfather". It was amazing!"

    Gordon and Charles chime in, equally starstruck. I have to calm them down before turning back to Oguga.

    "You don''t have to worry, Oguga. I''m a legit filmmaker," I assure him.

    Oguga eyes me warily before exchanging nces with his fellow orcs. "Alright," he finally says. "Let''s hope you don''t go back on your word, demon."

    I can''t help but chuckle. "Don''t worry. I''m a demon of my word."

    With that, I untie the orcs. Oguga and hispanions, still hesitant, lead me and my adventurers towards their vige.

    As we approach, I can see the tribe in the distance. They''re on edge, eyeing us suspiciously. Oguga steps forward, speaking to them in rapid Orcish. After a tense moment, they let us in.

    The vige is like stepping back in time. It''s primitive, almost stone age in its setup. My eyes are drawn to a group of chained elephants. A pang of pity hits me - maybe I can do something about that once I''ve talked to the chief.

    Speaking of which, the chief appears, an elephant by his side. He''s an imposing figure, all muscle and authority. "What''s a group of demons doing in my vige?" he demands, his voice a low growl.

    I straighten up, putting on my best diplomatic face. This is it - time to sell my crazy idea to an orc chief.

    "Chief," I begin, hoping my voice sounds steadier than I feel, "I have a proposition for you and your tribe. One that could change everything."

 Chapter 59: Orcs acquired

    <h4>Chapter 59: Orcs acquired</h4>

    (Ogu POV)

    I eye the demon in his fancy armor, then turn to my son instead of addressing him directly.

    "Oguga, what''s the meaning of this?" I demand in a low voice.

    Oguga leans in close, whispering urgently, "Father, this demon is from the Morningstar family!"

    My eyes widen. "What''s royalty doing here?" I hiss back.

    Oguga quickly exins about some "film project" and how this Arthur wants to hire our tribesmen. It''s a lot to take in, but I''ve learned to listen before judging.

    Turning back to the royal demon, I ask cautiously, "What kind of film do you need us for?"

    I''ve seen a film once - stole it, actually. So I''m curious about what this demon has in mind.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Seeing the chief''s expression soften, I realize Oguga must have smoothed things over. Good man... er, orc.

    "The details can wait," I say, trying to sound confident. "What you need to know is that you won''t regret this proposal."

    The chief eyes me skeptically. "What will we get from working for you?"

    "You know dors?" I ask.

    He nods. "Yeah, of course. It''s the global currency. You''re offering that?"

    I nod back. "If your tribesmen do well, I''ll pay you ten thousand dors. If not, you''ll still get a thousand. What do you think?"

    The reaction is immediate. The chief and orcs'' eyes widen in shock. Even Marjorie, Gordon, and Charles look stunned by my offer.

    I hold my breath, waiting for the chief''s response. This is it - the moment of truth. Will he take the bait?

    The silence stretches on, and I resist the urge to fidget. Come on, chief. Ten thousand dors for a bit of acting. It''s the deal of a lifetime!

    "I''m Ogu," the chief finally says, breaking the tense silence. "Let''s discuss your offer further in my hut."

    I can''t help but grin. This is progress. "Alright," I nod, following him inside.

    As we enter, my eyes are drawn once again to the chained elephants. A n starts forming in my mind. "Ogu, are your elephants for sale?"

    Ogu eyes me suspiciously. "Why?"

    "I want to buy them. Name your price," I say, trying to sound casual.

    My n is to free them, or maybe even take them with me. Elephants are incredibly intelligent creatures, and seeing them in chains doesn''t sit right with me.

    "They''re priceless to us," Ogu exins. "They help with many things, like scaring rival tribes."

    I press on, trying to reason with him. "Come on. Besides that, what can those elephants do? They must consume a lot of your tribe''s resources, right?"

    Ogu considers this, nodding slowly. "True, they do eat a lot of our fruit. But besides that, they''re okay..." He pauses, then seems toe to a decision. "I''ll sell you my elephant for ten dors. Or if you want all of my elephants, it''ll be 100."

    "Deal," I say instantly, barely able to contain my excitement.

    I quickly pull out my wallet, paying Ogu on the spot. His surprised expression is priceless as he scrutinizes the money, checking if it''s real. An orc chief ying amateur bank teller - now there''s something you don''t see every day.

    After carefully counting the cash, Ogu nods. "Alright. Those elephants are yours now." He pockets the money, all business now. "Let''s get right to it."

    ***

    (Ogu POV)

    What a fool. This demon actually bought my elephants for such a pittance.

    Truthfully, losing those beasts means little. I can always order the tribe to capture more from the vast forest. But business is business, so I turn my attention to the matter at hand.

    "Your roles in my film are simple," Arthur exins. "You''ll be an army of orcs working for the viin."

    "So... we''re the bad guys?" I rify.

    Arthur nods. "Yes. But being bad in the film doesn''t matter. What matters is that it proves orcs can cooperate to make a film." He leans in, his eyes intense. "Think about it. When people see that orcs can act, maybe other studios will start casting you. Maybe orcs won''t be looked down on by other races anymore."

    His words strike a chord. This demon isn''t just offering us a job - he''s offering a chance to change how the world sees us.

    "Alright. I agree to your proposal," I say, newfound respect in my voice. "When do we begin?"

    "Now," Arthur says without hesitation. "Ready your orcs. We''ll head to the filming location."

    A flicker of doubt crosses my mind. "You''re not trapping us, are you?"

    Arthur snorts. "As an orc chief, you must''ve felt my power, right?"

    A shiver runs down my spine as I sense the aura emanating from him. There''s no doubt - he''s a Morningstar, through and through.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Mission aplished. I''ve secured the orcs for my film, and as a bonus, I''ve got myself some elephants.

    The moment the chainse off, the elephants trumpet joyously. I can''t help but chuckle as I approach thergest one, giving it a pat. To my surprise, it gently caresses me with its trunk. Looks like I''ve made some new friends.

    I''d nned to set them free, but these gentle giants seem to have other ideas. They follow me like oversized, gray puppies. Guess I''m a elephant owner now. Add that to the list of things I never thought I''d say.

    Two dayster, I return to the shallow parts of Gloomstone Forest. The looks on my team''s faces when they see me roll up with a herd of orcs and elephants? Priceless.

    But there''s no time to bask in their shock. We''ve got work to do. I''ve had my team prepare severalrge buses to transport the orcs to the Green Forest for their scenes with Saruman. The elephants, sadly, will have to stay behind with my Gloomstone team. They seem genuinely sad to see me go. Who knew elephants could do puppy dog eyes?

    As we board the buses for the 18-mile journey to Green Forest (which should take us about a few hours, traffic permitting), I can''t help but feel a sense of aplishment.

    Looking out the window as we pull away, I see the elephants waving their trunks in farewell. I make a mental note to visit them once filming wraps up. After all, what kind of demon would I be if I neglected my new pachyderm pals?

    As the buses rumble down the road, I settle in for the ride. Next stop: Green Forest. Time to turn these orcs into stars.

    When we pull up to the Shire set in Green Forest, my team''s jaws practically hit the ground. I step out of the bus, a horde of orcs trailing behind me like some bizarre parade.

    George''s eyes are as wide as saucers. "You''ve actually managed to get orcs!" he sputters, disbelief etched on his face.

    Mara, one of our crew members, eyes the orcs warily. "Are they dangerous, boss?"

    I can''t help but chuckle. "Don''t worry. They won''t bite." I pause for effect, then add, "In fact, they can speakmon tongue."

    Despite my reassurances, it''s clear the team is on edge. Can''t me them, really. It''s not every day you see a bunch of orcs milling about a hobbit vige.

    As we start filming, though, something interesting happens. The orcs, under my direction, prove to be surprisingly cooperative. They take direction well, hit their marks, and even ad-lib a few lines that aren''t half bad.

    Gradually, I notice the tension in my crew''s shoulders start to ease. By lunchtime, I even spot Mara sharing her sandwich with one of the younger orcs.

 Chapter 60: Hellfire VFX Studio

    <h4>Chapter 60: Hellfire VFX Studio</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    It''s been a few days since I brought the orcs on board, and I''ve got to say, they''re exceeding expectations. Even the team and cast seem impressed by their acting chops.

    Ugo, Oguga, and the others have really thrown themselves into their roles. Right now, I can hear them chatting with some of the cast about the script.

    Oguga''s booming voice carries across the set. "Sauron is a very powerful lord, yet he was defeated in one sh?"

    Gerald Matthew, our Gandalf, patiently exins, "Because he was exhausted when he fought with Elendil and Gil-gd."

    Oguga nods, then asks, "Who yed Sauron? Is it the boss Arthur?"

    Hearing my name, I wander over to join the conversation. "No, no one''s yed Sauron yet. We haven''t filmed the shback fight scenes because we were short on orc actors." I look at Oguga and the others, grinning. "But now that you guys are here, we''re about to change that."

    Oguga''s eyes light up. "Oh! Can I y Sauron?" he asks eagerly.

    I chuckle at his enthusiasm, but before I can reply, Ugo cuts in. "No, Oguga. I''ll y Sauron. I match his height and appearance better."

    Oguga''s face falls, and we all share augh. "Well, looks like you''re out of luck, Oguga," I say, patting him on the shoulder. "You should just be satisfied with your role."

    Oguga sighs dramatically. "But father already took the role of ying Lurtz, Saruman''s chief Uruk-hai."

    I burst outughing. "Well, your father really matches the looks of the characters I had in mind." Oguga just sighs again, the picture of dejection.

    After spending some more time with the cast, we dive back into filming. A few more days fly by in a blur of takes and retakes.

    Then, out of the blue, George pulls me aside with news that sends a jolt of energy through my tired bones. The arena we''ve been converting into a full-on studio is finallyplete.

    Suddenly, I''m wide awake, despite the exhaustion of daily filming. I p my hands, calling for everyone''s attention. "Guys, listen up! We''re going to continue filming the overall scenes at the studio that''s just beenpleted. We''re heading back to the capital today."

    The cast looks confused - this is the first they''re hearing of it. But my crew? They erupt into cheers. No more roughing it in the wild. No more battling the elements. We''re going back to civilization, baby!

    "Pack it up, people!" I shout, unable to keep the grin off my face. "We''re taking this show on the road!"

    As everyone scrambles to gather their things, I can''t help but feel a surge of excitement. A real studio, with all the bells and whistles. This is it. This is where "The Lord of the Rings" is really going toe to life.

    ***

    After a day''s journey, we''re back in the heart of civilization. The city sprawls before us, a stark contrast to the wild forests we''ve called home for weeks.

    "I missed the air here in the city," one of the crew members says, his voice thick with emotion. You''d think he''d been exiled for years instead of a few weeks of filming.

    Oguga, ever the contrarian, wrinkles his nose. "The air is not fresh at all," he grumbles, not bothering to hide his disdain.

    The other orcs, though, are wide-eyed with wonder. "So this is the city," they murmur, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of urban demon life. Some even look a bit misty-eyed. It''s probably their first time seeing anything like this.

    As we make our way down the street, the locals can''t help but stare. Whispers follow in our wake:

    "What are orcs doing here?"

    "Are they attacking? Should we run?"

    "Maybe it''s some kind of parade?"

    "Look at their weird clothes! Is this some new fashion trend?"

    An elderly demon clutches her purse tighter as we pass. "In my day, orcs knew their ce - far away from decent folk!"

    A group of young demons, on the other hand, seem thrilled. "Whoa, cool! Real orcs! Can we get a picture?"

    I can''t help but chuckle. If not for the orcs'' civilian clothes and the hefty bribe I paid the city guards, bringing a horde of orcs into the city would''vended me in some serious hot water.

    As we chat, we finally reach our destination - the former arena turned studio.

    "Whoa. This building is massive," the orcs gasp in unison, craning their necks to take in the structure.

    "Let''s go in," I say, unable to contain my excitement.

    As we step inside, I''m struck dumb. The ce has beenpletely transformed. The spacious arena with its rows of seating is gone, reced by a marvel of magical engineering.

    Illusion artifacts line the walls, their soft glow hinting at the power contained within. Intricate runes cover the floor and walls, pulsing with energy. These aren''t just for show - they''re designed to physically move and reshape the environment to match the projected illusions.

    It''s like a real-life CGI setup. The illusions serve as our "green screen," while the magically manipted walls and ground provide the tangible elements to sell the effect. It''s Hollywood magic meets actual magic.

    As we enter further, the demon operators greet us. "Boss, this is the studio built to your specifications," one says proudly.

    Another chimes in, a hint of awe in his voice, "This studio alone cost us millions of dors!"

    I nod, taking it all in. "You demons did great," I say, my mind already racing with the possibilities this ce offers.

    Turning to the orcs and the rest of the crew, I can''t help but grin. "Wee to the future of filmmaking."

    Turning to the orcs and the rest of the crew, I can''t help but grin. "Wee to the future of filmmaking."

    Their eyes widen in wonder, and Ugo''s voice trembles as he speaks, "Did- did I hear that right? This ce cost millions of dors?!"

    I chuckle, gesturing around. "What do you think?"

    Oguga''s jaw drops. "Royal family must be so rich!"

    I''m about to respond when Mochi, one of my crew members, jumps in. "No! Boss Arthur''s money isn''t from the royal family! He earned it all himself!"

    "Easy there, Mochi," I say, patting him on the shoulder. "They''re new to civilization, let alone ''The Demonfather'' box office numbers."

    Mochi''s face flushes with embarrassment. "Oh, right..."

    I turn back to the orcs, who look thoroughly confused. "Let''s just say I made a little film that did pretty well. This studio? It''s just the beginning."

    Ugo scratches his head. "A film that makes millions? Now that I''d like to see."

    "Stick around," I say with a wink. "You might just end up in the sequel."

    I turn to Gerald and the others, suddenly realizing that Firfel and some of the cast and crew are still probably back in Green Forest.

    As if on cue, George enters the studio with Firfel, Imkrag, Kurt, and the rest trailing behind him. Their jaws drop as they take in the ce.

    Firfel''s eyes sparkle with wonder. "I feel like I''ve traveled back to the ancient times."

    "Oh?" I raise an eyebrow. "You''ve been living since ancient times?"

    Sheughs, a musical sound that echoes through the studio. "You think I''m some ancient elf that lives for thousands of years?"

    "Oh," I mumble, feeling a bit foolish.

    Firfel''s still chuckling as she exins, "It''s just that this ce, filled with runes and magical artifacts, reminds me of pictures and paintings I''ve seen of the ancient world."

    "Like the ancient dungeons?" I offer, trying to save face.

    "Yes, exactly," she nods, her smile warm.

    I can''t help but grin back. "Well, if we''re going for ancient dungeon chic, I''d say we nailed it. Though hopefully with fewer traps and more craft services."

    Firfelughs again, and I feel a flutter in my chest that has nothing to do with the magical energy surrounding us. I quickly turn to address the rest of the group, hoping no one noticed my momentary distraction.

    "Alright, we''ll film the rest of the scenes in this studio," I announce, and predictably, the orcs have questions.

    Gugu, one of the elder orcs, frowns. "We''ll be filming in this ce? It doesn''t match the backdrop for the scenes at all."

    I can''t help but chuckle. "Well, you''re in for a surprise."

    I gesture to the demon operators, who approach eagerly. I hand them the architectural drawings of Mount Doom, carefully sketched from various important angles. With a nod, they set to work.

    The operators begin their spell, directing it towards the drawings. The papers dissolve into glowing ash, absorbed by the illusion artifacts lining the walls.

    Suddenly, the world around us shifts. The orcs'' jaws drop in unison. Even my team and Firfel, who knew about the illusion effects, gasp in astonishment.

    The bare studio transforms into the hellishndscape of Mount Doom. The ground beneath our feet trembles and shifts, causing everyone to stumble as if caught in an earthquake. When the rumbling subsides, we''re standing at the base of a towering volcano,plete with rivers of moltenva.

    "Anu ul!?" Oguga breathes, his eyes wide as saucers.

    Firfel reaches out tentatively, her fingers brushing against a nearby rock formation. "It feels... real," she marvels.

    I can''t keep the grin off my face. "Wee to Mount Doom. Pretty impressive for a dungeon, eh?"

 Chapter 61: Wrapping up and unexpected visitor

    <h4>Chapter 61: Wrapping up and unexpected visitor</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    While everyone''s gawking at the Hellfire VFX Studio''s handiwork, one of the demon operators pulls me aside. "Boss, maintaining this state is costly. We should start filming or shut it down."

    Right. Can''t forget the bottom line. "Got it," I nod, then turn to the crew. "Alright, people! Let''s get moving. We''re burning daylight and magic cores here!"

    The team snaps to attention, and we dive into the Mordor scenes. Ugo, decked out in Sauron''s armor, looks like he''s about to topple over. But he''s a trooper, and we make good progress.

    Days fly by, and I''ve got to admit, this VFX studio is a game-changer. We''re saving a ton on logistics and effort. But my wallet''s feeling the pinch. An hour of illusion backdrop sets me back a hundred bucks. It''s like watching money evaporate.

    We''re burning through C-Grade magic cores like they''re going out of style. A hundred dors a pop, and they barelyst an hour. I''m on the hunt for B-Grade cores - they''d give us five solid hours for three hundred dors. A better deal, but they''re as rare as a friendly Balrog these days.

    Between takes, I''ve been checking on "Harry Potter" sales. The book''s doing well, flying off shelves. It''s not exactly a phenomenon yet, but there''s a growing fanbase. They''re all curious about this mysterious "J.K." who penned it. If they only knew it was the "infamous prince" behind it all.

    "Harry Potter" has brought in about twenty grand so far. It''s no "Demonfather" blockbuster, but for a new book, it''s nothing to sneeze at.

    For context, the kingdom''s bestseller, "Primal Evil" - some pulpy tale about Satan''s evil offspring - rakes in 500k annually. But even that didn''t hit 20k in sales when it first dropped. The critics are buzzing, calling "Harry Potter" the next big thing. Not bad for a side project.

    ***

    Weeks have flown by, and we''re in the home stretch of filming. But we''ve hit a snag with the Balrog and dragon scenes.

    My fancy VFX studio can morph the backdrop, sure, but it can''t conjure up a moving, breathing creature. The ground and walls just can''t mimic the intricacies of a body in motion.

    But I''m not one to back down from a challenge. After some tinkering and consulting with illusion experts, we''ve stumbled onto something interesting. Turns out, we can draw runes and cast illusion spells on animals.

    We tested it on one of the elephants. Drew some runes, muttered a few incantations, and presto - we''ve got ourselves a pretty convincing monster. It''s not perfect, but it''s a hell of a lot better than trying to wrangle an actual dragon.

    As I watch our transformed elephant lumber around, looking decidedly more menacing than usual, I can''t help but grin.

    Klein speaks up, his tone measured. "Boss, we''ve been training this elephant for weeks now. I''d say he''s be decent at acting."

    "Decent?" George scoffs. "An animal that can act isn''t something you see every day. The elephant''s a great actor, if you ask me."

    I nod, considering their points. "George has a point. But Ron still needs work to nail the Balrog role. He''s close, though."

    Ron, the elephant I''ve been training to y Balrog, trumpets softly as if in agreement. We''ve burned through a small fortune in magic cores for his training, but if he pulls this off, it''ll be worth every penny.

    Meanwhile, our Wind Parrot has been surprising us all with its dragon performance. Its talent for imitation is proving invaluable.

    I nce at thetest report from Gloomstone Forest. The trolls we hired to control the ancient trees for our Ent scenes just wrapped yesterday. Another piece of the puzzle falling into ce.

    "Alright," I say, turning back to the team. "Let''s run through Ron''s scene one more time. And someone make sure he doesn''t snack on the set this time."

    ***

    As December draws to a close, we''ve finally wrapped filming on "Lord of the Rings". It''s been a hell of a ride, costing us about 15 million dors - and that''s not even counting the VFX Studio.

    I''m saying my goodbyes to the cast when I reach Firfel. "I''ll definitely miss your lips," I say with a grin.

    Firfel rolls her eyes. "Those kissing scenes... you''re one shameless director, you know that?"

    "You didn''t hate it though, right?" I chuckle.

    She''s quiet for a moment, then looks at me seriously. "I''ve been meaning to ask... do you have feelings for me?"

    My heart skips a beat, but I''m a demon, damn it. I don''t get intimidated. "What if I do?" I shoot back. "You''re quite a beauty in my eyes."

    Firfel''s eyes widen, clearly caught off guard.

    Feeling bold, I press on. "Would you consider a rtionship with this great demon?"

    She looks conflicted. "Sorry, but... I want to focus on my career right now."

    Oddly, I''m not disappointed. Her response leaves the door open. "Oh? So you''re saying there''s a chance?"

    "Stop it," Firfelughs, swatting my arm.

    "Firfel, what''s taking you so long?" Shafel calls from a distance.

    Firfel nces back, then turns to me. "Well, see you around." She walks off with Shafel.

    I can''t help but smile as I head back to the studio with my team.

    Lilith pipes up, sounding exhausted. "Boss, are we pulling all-nighters for editing again?"

    "Not this time," I say. "We''ve got an easier editing process ahead."

    Their eyes light up. "So no overtime?"

    "Well, not exactly," I rify, watching their faces fall. "But don''t worry. I''ve got an editing tool that''ll speed things up."

    "Editing tool?" my team echoes, curiosity piqued as we enter the studio.

    I nod to George, who disappears for a moment before wheeling out our invention.

    The team gathers around, eyeing the contraption with a mix of confusion and interest. "Is that our editing tool, boss?" someone asks, sounding skeptical.

    "Yes," I confirm, gesturing to the film strips nearby. "I''ve prepared binary code to program the editing process. Theputer will process the uploaded files, but we''ll still need to manually fine-tune everything. It''s not perfect - we''ll need to double-check its work and make adjustments - but it should speed things up considerably."

    Their eyes widen as they process this information.

    "I didn''t know something like this existed," one of them mutters.

    I can''t help but feel a hint of pride as I exin, "That''s because it didn''t until now. George and I created this editing tool. We''re the only studio with this technology."

    The surprise on their faces deepens. I can almost see the gears turning in their heads as they consider the implications.

    "So... we''re not out of a job, right?" Zeke asks, only half-joking.

    Iugh. "Far from it. We still need your expertise to make this work. Think of it as a very clever assistant, not a recement."

    ***

    As the calendar flips to 1272, there''s a palpable sense of change in the air. The new year ushers in a new era for the picture industry, with colored films bing more and moremon. It''s a far cry from the ck and white world we left behind.

    Days blur together as we hunker down in the editing room, piecing together our epic. The new tool is a godsend, but it still requires our constant attention and creativity.

    I''m deep in concentration, debating between two cuts of a particrly tricky scene, when there''s amotion outside. Curious, I make my way to the lobby, only to be greeted by an unexpected sight.

    Lucy Morningstar, my elder sister, stands there, tapping her foot impatiently. Her presence is asmanding as ever, filling the room with an almost palpable aura of authority.

    "You''ve finally deigned to show up," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You''ve made me wait long enough."

    I blink, momentarily thrown off bnce. It''s been... well, I can''t even remember thest time I saw Lucy. What could possibly bring her here now?

    "Lucy," I manage, trying to keep my voice neutral. "This is... unexpected. What brings you to our humble studio?"

    Her eyes narrow, and I can practically feel her gaze burning through me. Whatever this is about, I have a feeling it''s not a social call.

 Chapter 62: New Laws

    <h4>Chapter 62: New Laws</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Lucy''s eyes scan the studio beforending back on me. "We need to talk about this privately."

    "Alright," I nod, curiosity piqued. "Let''s go to my office."

    As we walk down the corridor, Lucy takes in her surroundings. "Looks like you''ve really hit it rich with your first movie, ''The Demonfather,'' huh."

    I can''t help but smile. "I''m just very lucky."

    "That''s true," Lucy agrees, surprising me.

    Once in my office, I decide to be frank. "I''ve got to say, you''re thest person I expected to visit me."

    Lucy settles into a chair, eyebrow raised. "Oh? Who did you think would visit?"

    "Apollonia," I answer honestly.

    "She hasn''t visited you?" Lucy seems genuinely surprised.

    I shake my head, then decide to cut to the chase. "Anyway, Your Highness, what''s the purpose of your visit?"

    Lucy''s expression hardens. "Stop fooling around."

    "What''s wrong? Aren''t I not a royal anymore?" I can''t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. "So? Is there any real purpose for this visit?"

    Lucy''s eyes narrow, and I can tell she''s choosing her next words carefully. Whatever brought her here, it''s clearly important. And knowing Lucy, it''s probablyplicated.

    "Well, it''s simple, honestly. I''ve seen the box office numbers for ''The Demonfather''. 280 million dors is no small sum." She pauses, her tone shifting to something more official. "As the Minister of Economic Development and Tourism, I believe it''s only right that the kingdom should benefit from such a sessful film."

    I frown, not liking where this is going. "What do you mean?"

    Lucy leans forward, her voice taking on a lecturing tone. "The kingdom has implemented a new tax structure for films, particrly those that perform exceptionally well, like yours. We''re introducing a tiered system based on box office revenue."

    As she exins the details, I can''t help but draw parallels to the entertainment industry taxes from my previous life. It''s clear Lucy''s trying to establish something simr here.

    "So, let me get this straight," I interrupt, my mind racing. "You want to take a chunk of the profits from sessful films, ostensibly to ''benefit the kingdom''?"

    Lucy nods, seemingly pleased I''ve caught on. "Exactly. It''s a reasonable measure to ensure the kingdom''s growth aligns with the burgeoning film industry."

    I lean back in my chair, trying to mask my frustration. "And I suppose this new tax conveniently applies retroactively to ''The Demonfather''?"

    Lucy''s smile is all the answer I need.

    This is ridiculous. The government sees me thriving and immediately decides to take a cut. Though I despise this neww, I can''t exactly go toe-to-toe with the royal family or the government right now.

    I let out a heavy sigh. "Alright. I''ll pay the tax. But," I lean forward, fixing Lucy with a hard stare, "how can I be sure I''m not being singled out here? That this isn''t some personal vendetta dressed up as policy?"

    Lucy''s expression doesn''t waver. "Arthur, you have nothing to worry about. Thisw applies to all filmmakers, not just you. We''re not in the business of ying favorites or holding grudges."

    I nod, not entirely convinced but knowing better than to push further.

    After hammering out a few more details, Lucy bids her farewell. As soon as she''s gone, I slump in my chair, a wave of frustration washing over me. "It''s so damn stupid," I mutter, shaking my head.

    But I can''t dwell on this. There''s work to be done. I force myself up and head back to the team. We need to finish editing so I can focus more on theputer project.

    This tax nonsense won''t stop me. If anything, it''s just fueling my determination. I''ve already started hiring fresh graduates who know their way around binary, mechanics, and otherplex fields. We''re making progress, slowly but surely.

    As I rejoin my team, I push thoughts of taxes and royal interference to the back of my mind. We''ve got a movie to finish and a technological revolution to start. No time for self-pity.

    "Alright," I call out, pping my hands to get everyone''s attention. "Let''s see where we''re at with this edit. We''ve got a world to wow."

    ***

    (Anus Hades POV)

    Life in Apple City''s changed since "The Demonfather" hit it big. Suddenly, the Leviathan family and other demon mobs are getting respect from gangs and races we used to have to strong-arm. Can''t say I hate it.

    Sure, the film didn''t exactly blow me away, but I''d be lying if I said I wasn''t grateful. It''s done wonders for demon-kind. And that Prince Arthur? My respect for him''s gone through the roof.

    Only thing that grates on me is how the boys have started calling Don Leviathan "Don Corleone." In my book, Leviathan''s got Corleone beat, hands down.

    I''m heading down the street when I catch a snippet of conversation:

    "Did you hear? Arthur''s cooking up a new film. They''re saying it''ll make ''The Demonfather'' look small-time."

    My ears prick up at that. Another film? What''s this prince got up his sleeve now? Another mob story?

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    January 7, 1272. We''ve finally wrapped up editing, and I''ve got to hand it to our newputer - it''s made a world of difference. Sure, programming the thing was a headache and a half, but it significantly reduced our editing time.

    The process wasn''t without its challenges, but seeing the final producte together faster than ever before makes all thosete nights worth it. It''s not just about speed, though. The precision and consistency theputer brings to the table have elevated the quality of our work.

    Today''s the big day. I''ve invited the Lava Brothers for a private viewing of "Lord of the Rings." My stomach''s in knots as Fart Lava, the CEO, and Ray Lava walk in.

    Fart extends his hand, all smiles. "It''s great to see you, Arthur."

    I shake his hand, trying to keep my cool. "Likewise. Thanks foring."

    As I lead them to the studio theater, my mind''s racing. This is it. Months of work, millions of dors, and more than a few gray hairs have led to this moment.

    "So," Ray pipes up as we settle into our seats, "heard you had some interesting casting choices for this one."

    I can''t help but chuckle. "You could say that. Let''s just say we''ve got a few surprises in store."

    Ray leans in, a mix of curiosity and concern in his voice. "Word on the street is you''ve sunk millions into this project. That true?"

    Fart nods, adding, "We''ve heard some pretty wild numbers being thrown around."

    I take a deep breath, meeting their gaze. "It''s a significant investment, yes. But when this film hits theaters, the world will see what a big production really means. It''ll redefine what''s possible in cinema."

    They nod politely, but I can read the doubt in their eyes. It''s clear as day what they''re thinking: ''Yeah, right. More like money wasted.''

    I bite back a sigh. Can''t really me them for their skepticism. In their shoes, I''d probably be thinking the same thing. But they haven''t seen what I''ve seen. They don''t know what we''ve created.

    "Look," I say, leaning forward, "I know it sounds crazy. But trust me, this isn''t just another film. It''s something entirely new."

 Chapter 63: Another Masterpiece?

    <h4>Chapter 63: Another Masterpiece?</h4>

    (Fart Lava POV)

    A new film from the prince behind "The Demonfather" - it''s definitely caught my attention. Still, I can''t help but doubt it''ll live up to the hype. "The Demonfather" feels like a one-hit wonder, and that''s a widely held opinion.

    As the theater darkens and the film begins, something immediately stands out. The aspect ratio is wider, more expansive. And these colors... they''re a cut above other colored films I''ve seen.

    I lean towards Arthur, curiosity getting the better of me. "The film looks different. New camera tech?"

    Arthur nods, a hint of pride in his voice. "We''ve expanded the aspect ratio. Makes for a better viewing experience."

    "It''ll definitely boost audience engagement," Ray chimes in, nodding approvingly.

    He''s got a point. While I''m skeptical this film can top "The Demonfather," I''ve got to hand it to Arthur - his technological innovations are impressive. This new camera and its wider ratio... it''s something to keep an eye on.

    My thoughts are interrupted as the film''s logo fades and a woman''s voice fills the theater. "The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air."

    An elf, no doubt about it. Her narration continues, introducing the rings of power given to three elves, seven dwarves, six men, and the three demons.

    Thenes Sauron''s introduction, and I''ll be damned if it doesn''t grab my attention. Maybe there''s more to this film than I thought...

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Throughout the screening, I can''t help but steal nces at the Lava Brothers. Their reactions are like an open book, and it''s a story I''m eager to read.

    At first, they''re all curiosity and polite interest. But as the film progresses, their expressions run the gamut. Gone is the skepticism, reced by genuine engagement. They''re not just watching; they''re experiencing.

    I see them lean forward during tense moments, grin during lighthearted scenes. When Frodo, Gandalf, and Aragorn face challenges, the brothers are right there with them, silently cheering them on.

    Two hours fly by, and as the credits roll, I turn to gauge their final reaction. The transformation is stark. These aren''t the same men who walked in expecting a disappointment. Their faces are serious, almost reverent.

    Ray and Fart exchange a look before turning to me, their expressions intense. "Name your price, Mr. Morningstar," Ray says, his voice urgent. "We''ll do anything to acquire the rights to your film!"

    I can''t help but chuckle. This is more than I could have hoped for. "Well," I begin, savoring the moment, "let''s discuss terms, shall we?"

    Fart nods eagerly, his eyes bright with excitement. "The film is fantastic. I can''t wait to see how other races react, especially the humans!"

    "It''s certainly better than ''The Demonfather,'' no doubt!" Ray chimes in.

    I chuckle to myself. Back in my old world, that statement would''ve sparked endless debates. Here, though? Ray''s just stating facts. The fantasy elements and magic in "Lord of the Rings" resonate more with this world than "The Demonfather''s" focus on guns and mob politics.

    We move to a private room, the brothers still gushing about the film. Once settled, the mood shifts to something more serious.

    "Let''s talk numbers," Fart begins, leaning forward. "We''re prepared to offer 5 million up front for the distribution rights in the Morningstar Kingdom."

    I raise an eyebrow, impressed but not showing it. "Go on."

    Ray jumps in. "Plus 60% of the box office earnings. We''ll handle all marketing and distribution costs."

    "And," Fart adds, "we''re willing to discuss potential sequels. Same terms, locked in now."

    I lean back, considering. It''s a generous offer, more than I expected. But I can''t appear too eager.

    I nod, a smile ying on my lips. "That''s a strong start. I see you''re upping the upfront payment and taking a bigger slice of the box office this time around?"

    Fart leans back, a wry grin on his face. "We''ve learned from the past, Mr. Morningstar. ''The Demonfather'' earned us a pretty penny, sure, but in hindsight? Giving up that much of the box office share was... well, let''s just say we''ve had some regrets."

    I can''t help butugh. "Regrets? Didn''t you want to help revolutionize demon cinema?"

    Ray chuckles, shaking his head. "Of course we did. But watching that 30 million roll in from the kingdom alone and knowing what could have been? It stings a bit, you know?"

    I appreciate their honesty. It''s refreshing in this business. "Fair enough. Now, about international distribution... I''ve hit some roadblocks with studios abroad. Lots of doubt floating around. You mentioned having connections?"

    Fart and Ray exchange a look before Fart speaks up. "We''ve got a few strings we can pull. Whitlock Pictures, one of the big six human studios in Empirica, for instance."

    I hold up a hand. "Empirica''s covered. Bryan Brothers is handling that. I''m more interested in Evros, South East Anatolia, East Watch, and the Eden region."

    The brothers'' eyes light up at this. Ray leans forward, suddenly more interested. "Now that''s an interesting market. We might be able to help you there."

    Fart nods, his expression serious. "Those regions are tough nuts to crack. They''re especially skeptical of demon productions. ''The Demonfather'' helped a bit, but overall? The industry still looks down on us."

    "They even believe ''The Demonfather'' will be the first andst good demon film," Ray adds, shaking his head. "We were starting to believe it too, until we saw this masterpiece you''ve just made."

    I nod, understanding their perspective. "Breaking our bad reputation isn''t easy, but I assure you, things will be different with Arthur Morningstar in the demon entertainment industry."

    A few hours ago, Ray and Fart might have scoffed at such a bold statement. But after watching "Lord of the Rings," they can''t help but feel there''s truth to my words.

    Ray leans forward, his tone genuine. "Your film ''The Demonfather'' alone inspired so many demon filmmakers. Now, with another masterpieceing? It''ll definitely inspire even more."

    I can''t help but feel a surge of pride at his words. It''s one thing to believe in your own vision, but to hear others starting to believe too? That''s fulfilling.

    ***

    Days after striking a deal with the Lava Brothers, the entertainment industry''s buzzing with news of Hellfire Studio''stest project. Newspapers and magazines are filled with spection about what I''ve cooked up this time.

    One newspaper catches my eye: "One-Hit Wonder, Exiled Prince Arthur, Secures Deal with Lava Brothers. Is Lightning About to Strike Twice, or Will This Be His Final Bow?" The article goes on to question whether I can replicate the sess of "The Demonfather" or if I''m just riding on past glory.

    A well-known demon magazine chimes in: "Lava Brothers im Hellfire Studios'' New Film Surpasses ''The Demonfather''. Has the Heat Gone to Their Heads?" The piece spectes that the Lava Brothers might have been suckered into a bad deal, questioning their judgment and my ability to deliver.

    These doubts and mockeries roll off my back. Let them specte. Let them doubt. The film will speak for itself when it hits theaters.

    As I set the papers aside, I can''t help but smile. They have no idea what''sing. "Lord of the Rings" isn''t just going to meet expectations - it''s going to shatter them.

    Let them talk. Soon enough, they''ll be eating their words.

    In the meantime, the group of fresh graduates I''ve hired are proving invaluable to theputer project. With their help, George and I are making significant strides. At this rate, we might have the world''s firstputer with a monitor and keyboard, capable of coding in assembly, within two or three months.

    Our research is conducted in utmost secrecy, hidden away in a secure room. The chemicals and minerals we''re working with are no joke - some are potentially carcinogenic, others might cause respiratory issues or worse if mishandled. We take no chances, donning full protective gear before entering theb. We look like a bunch of paranoid doctors, but better safe than sorry.

    As I survey the busy group, I can''t help but feel a mix of satisfaction and anxiety. I''m extra strict about security protocols. No one leaves without decontamination, and outside contact is severely limited.

    I know these kids should be grateful - I gave them jobs when no one else would. But gratitude only goes so far. I can''t risk our work leaking out, no matter how unlikely it seems.

    Watching them work, I remind myself that this isn''t just about creating aputer. It''s about revolutionizing an entire world. The stakes are too high forcency.

 Chapter 64: Influential Elf

    <h4>Chapter 64: Influential Elf</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Two dwarves, Drake and Josh, have quickly be the MVPs of ourputer project. Their extensive knowledge of the Ward Engine from Stonecraft Kingdom puts them leagues ahead, even outpacing George inputer logic. With them leading the team, our progress has been remarkable.

    Their expertise allows me to split my focus, dedicating more time to the uing release of "Lord of the Rings" with the Lava Brothers.

    Today, Fart introduces me to a potential partner. "Mr. Morningstar, we''ve secured a distributor for the Moonlight Kingdom," he says, gesturing to the elf beside him. "This is Kyle Love."

    Kyle greets me with a warm smile. "It''s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morningstar."

    I nod, returning the smile. "Likewise, Mr. Love."

    "I''ve had some enlightening discussions with Fart," Kyle continues, his eyes bright with excitement. "He invited me to view the film at his studio, and I must say, I was thoroughly impressed."

    "Oh?" I lean in, genuinely curious. "What were your thoughts?"

    Kyle''s smile widens. "It was exceptional. In fact, I was wondering if you''d consider premiering the film at our kingdom''s most prestigious event - the Moonlight Film Festival."

    My eyebrows shoot up. The Moonlight Film Festival is no small affair. It''s the kind of tform that canunch a film into the stratosphere of critical acim.

    "That''s quite an offer," I say, my interest piqued. I turn to Fart, "Are you on board with premiering at the Moonlight Film Festival?"

    Kyle and Fart exchange a nce before Kyle speaks. "I''ve discussed it with Fart, and he''s supportive. He believes your studio''s film is worthy of our prestigious festival."

    Fart nods in agreement. "Absolutely. ''Lord of the Rings'' deserves to be part of such a renowned event."

    I consider this for a moment. "When exactly does the festival take ce?"

    "It begins two weeks from now," Kyle replies.

    My brow furrows. "Two weeks? Will the festivalmittee even ept our film on such short notice?"

    Kyle''s face lights up with a hint of pride. "Don''t worry about that. I''ve been pulling some strings at the festival. I can fast-track the submission process and ensure it gets a prime slot. Themittee owes me a few favors, and your film is exactly the kind of groundbreaking work they''re always seeking."

    As I listen to Kyle''s exnation, I start to realize this elf might be more influential than he initially let on. His confidence and connections could be invaluable.

    "I see," I say, reassessing Kyle. "That''s quite impressive. You seem to have significant pull in the festival circuit."

    Kyle''s smile turns a bit mysterious. "Let''s just say I know how to navigate the industry. So, what do you think? Are you ready to take ''Lord of the Rings'' to the Moonlight Film Festival?"

    I lean back, weighing the pros and cons. It''s a risk, but the potential payoff... "Tell me more about the festival''s reach. How could this impact our wider release?"

    Kyle chuckles softly. "Is that even a question? The Moonlight Film Festival is the most prestigious event in the elven film calendar. Critics from across the world attend, not just elves. A strong showing there can set the tone for your entire release."

    "Imagine the buzz when human and dwarf critics start raving about a demon-made film. It''ll break down barriers, challenge preconceptions. Plus, the festival has a history ofunching international hits. Films that premiere there often see boosted ticket sales across all kingdoms."

    I nod along, mulling it over. Kyle''s points are solid. This could be the perfectunchpad for "Lord of the Rings."

    "Alright," I say, extending my hand. "Let''s submit the film to the Moonlight Film Festival."

    Kyle grasps my hand, his grip firm and grateful. "Thank you, Mr. Morningstar. This film will definitely resonate with the elves."

    I chuckle. "I hope they do."

    "Oh, they will. No doubt about it," Kyle says with a grin. Then, his expression turns curious. "By the way, those rings in the film - the ones with immense power, forged by elves, coveted by all races - did you draw inspiration from ancient history? Do such rings exist in our world''s past?"

    The question catches me off guard. For a moment, I''m transported back to my previous life, to the books that inspired this story. But here, now, in this world of magic and multiple races, the line between fiction and potential history blurs.

    "Well," I say, choosing my words carefully, "let''s just say that in a world as magical as ours, who knows what powerful artifacts might have existed in the past? The rings in the film are fiction, but they''re inspired by the kinds of legends and myths that exist in all cultures."

    Kyle nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. Then his eyes light up with a new thought. "You know, watching the film reminded me of some ancient history from this demon kingdom. There''s an old legend about a crown belonging to a great demon lord."

    Fart, his interest piqued by the mention of demon history, chimes in. "Oh yeah, the great demon lord. Some say he''s just a legend, but I believe he really existed." He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I''ve heard his ancient crown and power pole are hidden somewhere in the royal castle¡ª"

    Suddenly, Fart''s eyes widen as he remembers who he''s talking to. I can''t help but chuckle at his expression.

    "Sorry," Fart mumbles, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

    I wave off his apology. "It''s fine. Go on, you can talk about it. I''m not part of the royal family anymore, remember?"

    Fart just shakes his head, clearly ufortable. "Nah, let''s change the subject."

    I don''t push it. I can''t me him for feeling awkward.

    Truth is, I''ve heard those rumors too - whispers about the great demon lord''s crown and power pole hidden somewhere in the castle. But in all my years living there, I never saw a trace of them. Then again, as the ck sheep of the family, there''s a lot I probably wasn''t privy to.

    ***

    After seeing Kyle and Fart off, I check in on theputer project before heading home. The evening air is cool as I drive to my apartment, my mind already shifting gears.

    Once inside, I settle at my desk and pull out my sketches. The familiar figures of Goku and Bulma take shape under my pencil as I continue working on my adaptation of "Dragon Ball". It''s be my evening ritual, a way to unwind after the chaos of the day.

    I''ve been at this for a few weeks now, whenever I can steal a moment in the evenings. The pages of Chapter 1 are almostplete - I''m on page 30 out of 32. Goku''s innocent face and Bulma''s exasperated expressions are starting to feel like old friends.

    As I shade in the details of Goku''s power pole, I can''t help but chuckle. The irony isn''t lost on me - just hours ago, I was discussing simr mythical items supposedly owned by the great demon lord. Life has a funny way of drawing parallels.

    Despite thete hour, I decide to push through and finish Chapter 1. The familiar characters take shape under my pencil, each panel bringing this world to life. It''s a different kind of creation from filmmaking, more intimate somehow.

    Finally, with a satisfied sigh, I put the finishing touches on thest page. Flipping through thepleted Chapter, I nod to myself. Not bad for an exiled prince turned filmmaker turned manga artist.

    But I''m not done yet. Riding the wave of creative energy, I start sketching outyouts for Chapter 2. The story''s really starting to take shape now, and I can''t help but wonder how this world will receive it.

    Two hourster, my eyes are starting to burn and my hand is cramping, but I''ve got a solid start on the next Chapter. Stifling a yawn, I finally admit defeat and head to bed.

 Chapter 65: To the Moonlight Kingdom

    <h4>Chapter 65: To the Moonlight Kingdom</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The next day, I decide to pour my energy into theputer development and "Dragon Ball" manga. With two weeks before the Moonlight Kingdom film festival, it''s the perfect time to make some headway on these projects.

    In theb, I find Drake and Josh hunched over a mess of circuits and code. Their dwarven craftsmanship is evident in the meticulous way they''ve arranged eachponent.

    "How''s it going, guys?" I ask, peering at their work.

    Drake looks up, his eyes bright with excitement. "We''re making real progress, boss. We''ve developed unique machine code for each hardwareponent."

    Josh nods, adding, "And we''re designing the assemblynguage around it. It''s like creating a new dialect for each part of theputer tomunicate."

    I lean in, examining their work. "By tailoring the code to eachponent, we can optimize performance."

    "Yes," Drake grins. "It''s more work up front, but it''ll make the final product much more efficient."

    "How long until we see a working prototype?" I ask.

    Josh scratches his beard thoughtfully. "At this rate, maybe two months? It''s hard to say for sure. We''re in uncharted territory here."

    I nod, understanding theplexity of what we''re attempting. "Two months sounds ambitious, but achievable. Keep up the good work."

    As I''m about to leave, Drake calls out, "Boss, wait a second."

    I turn back, raising an eyebrow. "What''s up?"

    Drake and Josh exchange a nce before Drake continues, "We just wanted to say thanks. All this knowledge, these ideas... they''re from you. We''re just following your instructions."

    Josh nods in agreement. "We wouldn''t even know where to start without your guidance."

    Their words catch me off guard. For a moment, I''m not sure how to respond. It''s true that my knowledge from another life is driving this project, but their skill and dedication are what''s making it a reality.

    "I appreciate that," I say with a genuine smile. "But don''t sell yourselves short. Your expertise is what''s turning these ideas into reality."

    Drake and Josh exchange a look, their faces beaming with pride. Josh speaks up, "We still want to thank you. Without you, we''d never have known such advanced engine knowledge was even possible."

    Drake nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, we''re not just grateful for the job, but for the knowledge we''re gaining from you."

    Their sincerity reminds me of George - that same kind-hearted dedication. I can''t help but feel a surge of fondness for these two.

    I reach out, patting them both on the shoulder. "Just do your best, guys. Prove to the world that this engine is invaluable. Show everyone what you''re capable of."

    Their eyes light up at the challenge. Drake and Josh nod in unison, a new determination visible in their stance.

    As I turn to leave, I can already hear them diving back into their work, discussing new ideas with renewed vigor. I can''t help but smile to myself. It''s moments like these that make all the challenges worth it.

    ***

    Two weeks vanished in a flurry of activity, and suddenly it''s time for the "Lord of the Rings" premiere at the Moonlight Film Festival. I''ve invited the key cast members - Firfel, Imkrag, and Kurt - to join me for this momentous asion.

    I arrive at Fend Airport well ahead of schedule, buzzing with excitement. It''s not just about the film''s release; I''m also eager to experience my first airship journey.

    Unlike the airnes of my previous life, these airships are powered entirely by magic. They''re piloted by high-ranking mages, graduates from the most prestigious magical institutions. It''s a far cry from the jet engines and cockpit controls I''m used to.

    As I wait, I can''t help but wonder about the differences between airships and airnes. Will these magically powered vessels outperform the purely mechanical, electronically controlled airnes of my old world? The engineer in me is itching topare their efficiency, speed, and safety records.

    It''s a strange feeling, having knowledge of two entirely different technological paradigms. In some ways, this world''s magic-based tech seems more advanced. But in others, I can see potential improvements based on my previous life''s understanding of aerodynamics and propulsion.

    I make a mental note to discuss this with George, Drake and Josh when I return. Maybe there''s a way tobine magical propulsion with more streamlined designs...

    As I''m lost in thought, I spot Firfel, Imkrag, and Kurt approaching. My face breaks into a smile, particrly at the sight of Firfel. I stand, arms outstretched. "It''s been so long," I say, leaning in for a hug.

    Firfel stops me with a hand, her expression amused. "We only haven''t seen each other for a few weeks."

    "A few weeks is very long," I protest, attempting another hug.

    Firfel steps back, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Well, for us elves with a lifespan of three hundred years, a few weeks is about 0.1% of our lives. A few weeks is like a couple of days to us." She pauses, then adds, "Even for you demons or humans with your two hundred year lifespans, a few weeks isn''t that significant in the grand scheme of things, is it?"

    I can''t help but pout yfully. "You''re no fun, elf."

    Firfel''s smile widens as she changes the subject. "I heard our film is premiering at the Moonlight Film Festival?"

    I nod, studying her face. "That''s right. Are you excited? It''s your homnd, after all."

    Her eyebrows rise in surprise. "Homnd? Actually, no. I don''t live in the Moonlight Kingdom. I''m from..." She hesitates before finishing, "the Roses Kingdom."

    "The Roses Kingdom? On the Eden Continent?" I can''t hide my surprise. "That''s unexpected."

    Firfel''s eyes narrow slightly. "What''s unexpected about it?"

    "Nothing," I backpedal quickly, realizing I''ve stumbled into sensitive territory.

    As an awkward silence threatens to descend, I scramble for a way to recover. "I just... I guess I assumed all elves were from the Moonlight Kingdom. Shows what I know, huh?" I offer a self-deprecating smile. "Maybe you can teach me more about the Roses Kingdom on the flight?"

    Firfel''s expression softens slightly. "Perhaps," she says, a hint of mystery in her voice.

    I''m saved from further fumbling by the arrival of Fart and Ray.

    Fart and Ray started greeting me and the cast. After a two-hour wait, our airship finally docks. We board along with the other passengers, and I can''t help but marvel at the vessel. It''s like a seagoing ship, but with the ability to fly.

    As we settle into our seats, I notice theplex array of magical runes and crystals that seem to control the airship''s direction and altitude. It''s fascinating, but also looks incrediblyplicated.

    Firfel leans over, a teasing glint in her eye. "First time on an airship, Arthur?"

    I nod, trying to maintain myposure. "Yeah. What about it?"

    She grins mischievously. "Oh, nothing. Just hope you''re not afraid of heights. Or sudden drops. Or unexpected magical turbulence."

    I roll my eyes, turning back to the window. As we take off, I can''t help butpare this airship to the airnes from my previous life. The differences be apparent quickly.

    The takeoff is jerky,cking the smooth eleration of a jet engine. Our ascent is uneven, the magical propulsion seemingly struggling against gravity. The cabin noise is actually louder than I expected, filled with the hum of active spells and creaking wood.

    As we level off, I notice our speed seems significantly slower than amercial airliner. The ride is bumpier too, each gust of wind causing noticeable shifts.

    It dawns on me that while this airship is impressive for this world, it''s vastly inferior to the airnes I once knew. The magic-based technology, while versatile,cks the refined engineering and consistent power of jet engines and aerodynamic designs.

    The journey to the Moonlight Kingdom is long but not uneventful. We pass the time with conversations, shared meals at various stops, and catching up on sleep when we can. After two days of travel, we finally arrive at our destination.

 Chapter 66: Moon City

    <h4>Chapter 66: Moon City</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    As we exit the airport, I''m struck by the Moonlight Kingdom''s architecture. It''s a seamless blend of aesthetic beauty and historical significance, typical of the Evros Continent''smitment to preserving its cultural heritage.

    "I''ve finally set foot in the sole elven kingdom on this human-dominated continent," I muse aloud as we walk.

    Kyle smiles at my observation. "The Moonlight Kingdom is the most prosperous realm in Evros. Even other human kingdoms envy it. Evros would be nothing without the Moonlight Kingdom."

    Firfel nods in agreement. "That''s true. The first king of the Moonlight Kingdom brought significant changes to the continent. He revolutionized trade, agriculture, and urban nning."

    I can''t help but y devil''s advocate. "But wasn''t the expansion of tradeworks also med for the gues in the past? That''s the argument humans use to downy the Moonlight Kingdom''s achievements."

    Kyle snorts dismissively. "gues are a normal part of history, not solely due to trade. There were other factors, like poor sanitation in human cities. If not for our first king''sws on public hygiene and waste management, which human kingster copied, Evros would have suffered far worse."

    "Indeed," Firfel adds. "The Moonlight Kingdom''s advancements in medicine and magical healing also yed a crucial role in containing those gues."

    As we continue our walk, I''m struck by how intertwined the histories of elves and humans are in this continent. It''s a stark reminder of theplex rtionships between races in this world.

    "Well," I say, looking at the bustling streets around us, "I''m looking forward to experiencing some of this prosperity and culture firsthand. Shall we explore a bit before the festival preparations begin?"

    Kyle grins, a hint of pride in his voice. "Of course. Let me show you why the Moonlight Kingdom is the jewel of Evros."

    ***

    Kyle takes us on a whirlwind tour of Moon City''s highlights. We weave through the bustling City Market, where elven craftsmen sell intricate jewelry and magical trinkets. The Red Tower looms over the city, its pearlescent walls shimmering in the sunlight.

    "The Red Tower''s been standing for over a thousand years," Kyle exins proudly. "It''s said the first elven king built it in a single night using forgotten magic."

    Our stomachs growling, Kyle leads us to the Crescent Bistro, famous for its fusion of elven and human cuisines.

    "You''ve got to try the Japon beef," Kyle insists, ordering for the table. "It''s imported from the East Watch. Melts in your mouth like butter."

    He''s not wrong. The pasta is divine, but the beef... it''s a revtion. Tender, vorful, with a richness I''ve never experienced before.

    "This might be worth the trip alone," I mumble through a mouthful.

    As the sun sets, the city transforms. Magical lights flicker to life, bathing the streets in a soft, ethereal glow.

    "It''s beautiful," Firfel murmurs, her eyes reflecting the twinkling lights.

    We spend the next two days exploring hidden nooks and crannies of the city. Kyle''s an inexhaustible source of historical tidbits and local legends.

    Finally, we settle into our hotel, the Silver Leaf Inn. It''s quaint butfortable, with a view of the festival grounds.

    As Iy in bed the night before the festival''s opening, my mind races with anticipation. Tomorrow, we''ll be introducing "Lord of the Rings" to the elven world. I just hope they''re ready for it.

    ***

    The next day, we arrive at the Moonlight Film Festival, and I''m immediately struck by how much more bustling it ispared to the Fend Film Festival.

    Me, Firfel, Fart, and the visibly nervous Imkrag and Kurt step onto the red carpet. The crowds lining the sides - a mix of demons, humans, elves, and dwarves - seem surprised to see me.

    "That''s Michael Corleone!" someone shouts.

    Another voice corrects them, "No, that''s the infamous prince Arthur Morningstar, before he became known as Michael."

    "Really? I thought he was just an actor."

    "What''s he doing at the Moonlight Film Festival? Was he even invited?"

    I can''t help but chuckle at their confusion. A group of photographers rushes over, cameras shing as they capture images of me and the cast.

    An elven reporter approaches, microphone in hand. "Wee to the Moonlight Kingdom, prince Arthur... or should I say ex-prince?" She doesn''t wait for a response before continuing, "Your film was announced at thest minute to be appearing at this festival. Many film experts and critics think it''s presumptuous to ept your film sote, even if you are the director and producer of ''The Demonfather''. There are doubts about whether your new film is truly worthy of the Moonlight Film Festival. What do you say to that?"

    I take a moment topose myself before responding. "What can I say?" I smile, trying to strike a bnce between confidence and humility. "Honestly, if I said anything positive about my new film, it would sound like boasting and wouldn''t be convincing at all. So I''ll only say this: my film will speak for itself."

    The reporter looks visibly surprised by my response before regaining herposure. "Well, it seems you''re very confident about your film," she says. "Let''s just hope it''ll be as good as ''The Demonfather''."

    I nod with a chuckle, "I hope so too."

    The reporter nods, then drops a bombshell that catches me off guard. "It better be, because a famous and respected film critic, known not only in elven entertainment but worldwide, has announced he''ll be viewing the film himself."

    My eyes widen slightly at this news. "Caedan Aegis will actually view my film?"

    The elf reporter nods, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Yes. He rarely attends the Moonlight Film Festival, but it seems your second film has caught his attention." She adds, "Well, it''s not surprising, considering he just rated ''The Demonfather'' a stunning 8 out of 10 stars. Perhaps he''s interested in seeing what you''ve brought to the table this time."

    After dropping this bombshell, the reporter moves on to interview other attendees, leaving me slightly stunned.

    I quickly approach Fart, nudging him. "Why didn''t you tell me that Caedan, that famous elf film critic, will be viewing my film?"

    Fart''s eyes widen in surprise. "He will view our film?" he asks, seemingly as caught off guard as I am.

    I ignore his use of ''our film'', acknowledging that in a way, as my partner, he can im some ownership of "Lord of the Rings".

    Fart scratches his head, looking a bit sheepish. "Well, I didn''t know he''d view our film. It''s a pleasant surprise."

    I nod, my mind wandering back to what I know about Caedan Aegis. He''s been a legend in the entertainment industry since I was a kid. But he''s not just any critic - he''s known for giving directors suggestions to improve their filmmaking. Many of those directors went on to be household names. That''s why Caedan''s opinion and advice are so valuable to filmmakers.

    He''s not just a critic who tears things apart - he''s a mentor, a guide. Makes sense, given that Caedan was a director himself in his youth.

    Fart''s voice breaks through my thoughts. "Well, it will be better if Caedan sees your film!" He grins, confidence radiating from him. "I''m sure your film will definitely satisfy him."

    I appreciate Fart''s enthusiasm, but honestly, I don''t mind either way if Caedan sees my film or not. I''m just a bit surprised by the news. Sure, it would be a nice bonus if Caedan gives "Lord of the Rings" a good review, but it''s not something I''m hanging my hopes on.

 Chapter 67: LOTR screening

    <h4>Chapter 67: LOTR screening</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The Moonlight Film Festival''s opening ceremony begins with pomp and circumstance. The festival director, Herold Green, takes the stage, weing everyone present and introducing notable guests. He mentions rising human and elven filmmakers: Marco River from Empirica, Kai Suzuki from Japon, and others from South East Anatolia. Several elves from various kingdoms, including the Moonlight Kingdom itself, are also introduced.

    I''m mentioned too, though like the others, I don''t go on stage. The audience apuds politely at my introduction.

    Then, Herold''s voice rises with excitement. "Let''s wee one of our most notable guests at this festival, Caedan Aegis!"

    I join in the apuse as the old elf steps onto the stage. His eyes sweep across the audience before he begins speaking, his voice carrying easily through the hall.

    "Over the years of being a film enthusiast, what I can only say is that the picture industry is changing very fast. Especiallytely, with the film ''The Demonfather''."

    At the mention of my film, I feel numerous gazes turn in my direction.

    Caedan continues, "Not only was it in color, but it also introduced ingenious directing techniques. The way it captured intimate family moments juxtaposed with grand, sweeping scenes of power and conflict was truly revolutionary."

    I feel Caedan''s gaze settle on me as he says, "This incredible film that opened a new world in the picture industry, not only through colored pictures but through its storytelling, was not possible, of course, without the mastermind behind it. Arthur Morningstar deserves a heartfelt apuse."

    The crowd erupts into enthusiastic apuse.

    I maintain a modest smile as Caedan continues his speech, his words resonating through the hall.

    "Arthur Morningstar is proof that the picture industry I hold so dear has a bright future. Like Arthur, other talented filmmakers are emerging, challenging our views of entertainment. Some might call their work gore, illicit, dirty, or gritty. Others might even call it evil. But to us who love entertainment pictures, we call it art."

    He pauses, letting his words sink in. "The film ''The Demonfather'' is one such example. It''s gritty, it''s illicit, it''s cruel, and it''s simply... art."

    As Caedan keeps mentioning my name and work, I be acutely aware of the envious gazes directed my way. But I don''t let it bother me. This is part of the game, after all.

    Caedan wraps up his speech after a few more minutes. "Today, I am here simply to enjoy what the current generation of filmmakers is bringing. And I am expecting great things from you all." He bows to the crowd, met with enthusiastic apuse.

    I join in the pping, feeling a mix of pride and anticipation. As the apuse dies down, the festival officially begins with the opening film from a major elf studio.

    The lights dim as "Thorny Flower" begins. It''s a story about a shy young elf who falls for a beautiful but fierce elf girl, who''s part of a gang. At first, he''s put off by her rough demeanor, but as time passes, he finds himself drawn to her. The catch? She''s already involved with the gang''s big boss.

    As their rtionship develops, the big boss discovers their growing attachment and sends killers after them. They survive, seeking help from a powerful police officer who aids them in bringing down the gang leader, but only after a series of challenges.

    Watching the film unfold, I can''t help but smile inwardly. It''s clear that "The Demonfather" has left its mark - the influence is unmistakable in certain scenes and themes. Despite being aedy, the film handles its more serious moments with surprising depth.

    As the credits roll, I join the audience in apuse. For amercial film, it''s quite good. The cast and directors take the stage, bowing to the appreciative crowd.

    ***

    A day after the nonpeting films wrap up, thepeting films kick off. The main theatre and smaller venues prioritize these entries, creating a buzz of excitement throughout the festival.

    Finally, it''s time for "Lord of the Rings" to premiere. As I make my way to the main theatre, I''m struck by the packed house - thousands of seats, all filled with curious festival-goers.

    Snippets of conversation float around me:

    "I wonder if the film will live up to expectations?"

    "I don''t know. But I hope it''s bad. We don''t need another demon film thriving like ''The Demonfather''."

    "Don''t be racist."

    I ignore the harshments, focusing instead on the task at hand. As I take the stage, all eyes turn to me. I approach the microphone, suddenly aware of how unprepared I am.

    "I can''t say much as I didn''t prepare any speech for this moment," I admit.

    A soft chuckle ripples through the audience.

    "But I do hope everyone will enjoy the film. That''s all."

    Moreughter follows. I can almost hear their thoughts: ''Other filmmakers go on and on about how hard it was to produce their film, and that''s all you have to say?''

    As I settle into my seat, the theatre lights dim. The projector whirs to life, its beam hitting the projector screen.

    My heart races as the opening credits begin. This is it - the moment of truth. Will "Lord of the Rings" live up to the hype? Will it surpass "The Demonfather"?

    ***

    (Caedan Aegis POV)

    Finally. One of the films I''ve been eagerly anticipating is about to begin.

    I watch as Arthur steps onto the stage for his speech - or so I thought. But he barely says anything before leaving.

    "Interesting kid," I mutter to myself.

    Not that it matters whether Arthur gives an inspirational speech or not. What truly matters is the film he''s brought to the table.

    That''s what I''ve been waiting for. The origin of the film, be it demon or otherwise, is irrelevant. What matters is whether it''s good enough to redefine the entire picture industry.

    ''Will the ex-prince produce another film that matches or surpasses The Demonfather?'' The thought lingers in my mind as the lights dim.

    The introductions for "Hellfire Studios", "Lava Brothers", and "Love Pictures Entertainment" sh across the screen. As the film itself begins to roll, I''m immediately taken aback.

    The scaling resolution is noticeably superior to "The Demonfather" and other recent colored films. It''s a marked improvement in the viewing experience.

    This alone proves that, at least in terms of camera and film technologies, the ex-prince Arthur is ahead of the curve.

    As my mind processes the impressive scale resolution, an ethereal female voice fills the theater:

    "The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air."

    The narration continues, describing the forging of the Great Rings. My interest piques as I watch the three elves don their rings. ''A ring? It seems to be quite important,'' I note mentally.

    The voice goes on, detailing the distribution of rings to dwarf-lords, men, and demons. Thenes the revtion of Sauron''s deception and the forging of the One Ring.

    As the scene shifts to a barren, hellishndscape dominated by a looming volcano, I find myself deeply impressed. The visuals are breathtaking, unlike anything I''ve seen before.

    "In thend of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged, in secret, a Master Ring, to control all others. And into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life.

    One Ring to rule them all."

    The theater falls silent as we watch the epic battle between the alliance of Men and Elves against Sauron''s forces. I feel a chill run down my spine,pletely engrossed in the unfolding drama.

    "It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the King, took up his father''s sword."

    The film and the elf''s ethereal narration continue, drawing me deeper into the story. I watch, transfixed, as Isildur meets his fate, all for the sake of the ring.

    "It seems that the ring is very much desired," I mutter under my breath, barely aware I''m speaking aloud. The power of the narrative has me in its grip.

    "History became legend. Legend became myth."

    As the opening sequence unfolds, I find myself utterly captivated. My role as a critic fades away; the notepad on myp lies forgotten. In this moment, I''m not Caedan Aegis, the renowned elf critic.

    Right now, I''m just a person enjoying a film,pletely immersed in its world and story. "Lord of the Rings" has effectively transported me, and we''re only at the beginning.

 Chapter 68: LOTR Impression

    <h4>Chapter 68: LOTR Impression</h4>

    (Caedan Aegis POV)

    The opening scenes sh by, a whirlwind of historypressed into mere minutes. As thest echoes of battle fade, the narrator''s voice washes over us once more:

    "The Ring came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains."

    Gollum moves with an unsettling, spider-like grace, all gangly limbs and bulbous eyes. There''s something both pitiful and terrifying about him. I''ve seen my fair share of monsters in films, but this...

    "And there, it consumed him. The Ring brought to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind."

    I can''t help but shudder. Five hundred years... that''s a long time even for an elf like me, and I''m pushing 180. The thought of spending centuries alone in the dark, corrupted by that ring, is chilling.

    "And in the gloom of Gollum''s cave, it waited."

    The narration continues, painting a picture of creeping darkness and growing fear. I find myself holding my breath,pletely engrossed. When the ring abandons Gollum, I feel an unexpected pang of sympathy for the creature.

    "But something happened then the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire."

    As the character Bilbo appears on screen, I observe with interest. The actor is clearly a half-human, half-dwarf, but in the context of the film, he''s called a "hobbit." It''s an intriguing choice, creating this new race for the story.

    "For the time will soone when Hobbits will shape the fortunes of all..."

    The narrator''s words linger in the air as the opening scenes draw to a close. I settle back in my seat, my mind reeling. By the gods, what an opening!

    In just a few minutes, this film has managed to create an entire world, rich with history and fraught with danger.

    I''mpletely invested in this story, despite knowing it''s all fiction. The scene shifts to a ce called the Shire, where these so-called "hobbits" live. It''s a pastoral setting that feels both unfamiliar and fantastical.

    As a carriage rumbles into view, carrying the character Gandalf, I find myself leaning forward again. I watch intently as Gandalf begins his conversation with another character, Frodo.

    "The film is very interesting so far," the critic next to me whispers. "The opening alone, I can tell it''s filmed with effort."

    I nod, not taking my eyes off the screen. "Indeed," I murmur back, "but whether the film will continue to stay good throughout is the question."

    "Indeed," he echoes.

    As the scene unfolds, I push my critical thoughts aside. There will be time for analysister. For now, I want to lose myself in this invented world, to experience it as purely as possible.

    The scene flickered and shifted, bringing us to Bilbo''s party. The fireworks disy was truly mesmerizing, especially the dragon effect. It was so convincing that even the characters called "hobbits" believed it to be a real, attacking dragon.

    Though as I watched, a question nagged at me: how was Bilbo using the One Ring? From what we''ve seen, it''s an incredibly powerful artifact, capable of granting unnaturally long life. Yet the opening scenes showed how it had poisoned Gollum''s mind over time.

    Curiously, Bilbo didn''t seem as affected. Could these "hobbits" be somehow immune to the ring''s corrupting influence?

    But then came the scene where Bilbo had to part with the ring. His reluctance was palpable, and any notion of immunity I had was quickly dispelled. Bilbo''s eyes grew wild with a manic gleam as he hissed, "It''s mine, my own, my precious," in a voice eerily reminiscent of Gollum''s.

    The audience around me chuckled softly at this disy. I overheard snippets of conversation:

    "I don''t know why, but Bilbo looks pretty funny trying to imitate Gollum," one viewermented.

    Another replied, "Yeah, but maybe it''s just natural for anyone who bears the One Ring?"

    "Could be," a third voice chimed in. "Probably one of the side effects."

    I shook my head slightly, refocusing on the film. The story progressed to Frodo learning about the One Ring from Gandalf. It was clear that even Gandalf, wise and powerful as he appeared, was tempted by the ring''s allure.

    This scene truly drove home the ring''s power for me. If it could tempt someone who seemed as wise and formidable as Gandalf, its influence must be truly formidable indeed.

    Time seemed to slip away as I found myselfpletely absorbed in the film. From Frodo''s flight from the Shire with hispanions to the chilling scene of the Nazg¨±l''s brutal attack on the hobbits, I was utterly captivated.

    Around me, I could hear the audience''s reactions. An elven woman nearby whispered, her voice tinged with sympathy, "Oh, those poor hobbits."

    Herpanion nodded, adding thoughtfully, "They seem like simple, kind-hearted creatures. It makes their suffering all the more difficult to watch."

    I found myself silently agreeing. The film had skillfully portrayed the hobbits as a good-natured race, setting them apart from the other peoples of Middle-earth. Unlike the proud elves, the sturdy dwarves, demons or the ambitious humans, the hobbits were presented as humble, peace-loving beings.

    ***

    (Dianne James POV)

    I''ll admit, I came into this screening with reservations. Yes, Hellfire Studios had impressed me thoroughly with "The Demonfather," but that didn''t mean I''d automatically love anything they produced.

    In fact, I''d believed "The Demonfather" to be a one-off masterpiece, nearly impossible to replicate - not just for Hellfire Studios, but for any filmmaker.

    Yet here I am, watching "Lord of the Rings," and it seems the ex-prince is determined to prove me and the others wrong. This film has me just as engrossed as "The Demonfather" did, perhaps even more so. I never thought I''d find myself more invested in a film so soon after "The Demonfather," but here we are.

    As the minutes tick by, I remain on the edge of my seat,pletely absorbed. While the final verdict is still out, I can''t deny how impressed I am already. It''s as if Arthur Morningstar is throwing down the gauntlet, challenging not just other filmmakers, but his own past achievements.

    The scene shifted, and suddenly there he was - Aragorn, yed by none other than the ex-prince himself. I couldn''t help but smile a little. Arthur Morningstar taking on a major role in his own film? It felt almost like d¨¦j¨¤ vu after "The Demonfather."

    But this time, something was different. The usual whispers of skepticism I''de to expect when a director cast themselves in their own film were noticeably absent. It seemed I wasn''t the only one who remembered Arthur''s impressive turn in "The Demonfather." The doubts that might have gued us before - worries about the film''s quality or fears that it would be a vanity project - they just... weren''t there.

    And Arthur didn''t disappoint. His portrayal of Aragorn waspelling from the start. There was a quiet strength in the way he pulled Frodo from his nightmare, a sense of barely contained power as heter protected the hobbit. I found myself nodding in approval.

    The ex-prince had grown as an actor, that much was clear.

    The film continued to impress. The wizard duel between Gandalf and Saruman was nothing short of epic, magic crackling across the screen in a disy that left me breathless. Then came Frodo''s injury and his arrival in Rivendell, each scene building the tension masterfully.

    The Council of Elrond was a particr highlight. The way the film portrayed the bickering between the races felt genuine, the tensions palpable. When Frodo stepped forward to take on the burden of the ring, I could feel the weight of his decision.

    But it was Frodo''s reunion with Bilbo that truly caught me off guard. The transformation in Bilbo was startling - he''d aged visibly since giving up the ring. It was a touching moment, tinged with sadness... until it wasn''t. When Bilbo''s face suddenly contorted, reaching for the ring with a hunger that was terrifying in its intensity, I nearly leapt out of my seat.

    Around me, I could hear gasps and muffled cries of shock. It was a masterful bit of filmmaking, catching us all off guard just when we''d let our defenses down.

 Chapter 69: Arthur had done it again

    <h4>Chapter 69: Arthur had done it again</h4>

    (Dianne James POV)

    The newly formed Fellowship of the Ring set off on their perilous journey. I couldn''t help but notice Boromir, another half-demon, half-human like Aragorn, eyeing the One Ring with barely concealed desire. Thank the stars for Aragorn, ever vignt in his protection of Frodo.

    Their path was fraught with danger from the start. When they reached the Misty Mountains, Saruman''s attack left me ck-jawed. The sheer magical might on disy was staggering.

    Around me, the audience buzzed with excitement and spection:

    "By the gods, such power!" gasped an elf to my left.

    A dwarf stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Must be some legendary spell, that. Not your everyday magic, that''s for certain."

    "Forbidden magic, perhaps?" a human whispered, a mix of fear and awe in his voice.

    I found myself nodding along, equally curious. What kind of magic could have such a devastating effect from miles away? Saruman was clearly a force to be reckoned with, possibly surpassing even the old elves I''ve known in my life.

    The Fellowship''s journey led them into the Mines of Moria, an ancient dwarven city that Gimli hoped to reim. The actor portraying Gimli delivered a heart-wrenching performance at Balin''s tomb, his grief palpable.

    Just as I thought I had the measure of this film, just as I believed I knew what challenges the Fellowship would face next, everything changed. They encountered a being called a "Balrog."

    The collective gasp that rippled through the theater mirrored my own shock. The Balrog was a terrifying sight to behold - a massive creature of shadow and me, with eyes that burned like the depths of hell itself. Its very presence seemed to darken the screen, radiating malevolence.

    Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "How in the name of the elven gods did they manage to cast such a being?"

    The critic beside me shook his head in wonder. "I''ve never seen anything like it in all my years."

    "Could it be an illusion?" I asked, genuinely baffled.

    Another critic chimed in, his voice filled with uncertainty. "It feels too real for mere illusion... but then again, this is a film. It''s hard to tell."

    My mind raced with possibilities. Did Hellfire Studios somehow pay an astronomical sum to feature some unknown, terrifying creature? Is this where their millions of dors in budget went? The more I pondered, the more questions I had.

    The tension in the theater was palpable as we watched the Balrog chase after the Fellowship. My heart raced when Gandalf stayed behind to confront the beast, while Aragorn held back a distraught Frodo.

    A chill ran down my spine as a thought struck me. I couldn''t help but sh back to Sonny''s death in "The Demonfather." Surely the ex-prince wouldn''t... But even as I silently pleaded for a different oue, that telltale mncholy theme began to y. You know the one - it might as well scream, "Someone''s about to bite the dust!"

    Gandalf''s defiant shout echoed through the theater: "You shall not pass!"

    And just like that, before our disbelieving eyes, Gandalf plummeted into the abyss with the Balrog. The collective gasp from the audience was deafening.

    "No!" An elderly mage a few rows ahead cried out. Surprisingly, not a single person shushed him. His outburst merely vocalized what we all felt.

    As the Fellowship pressed on without their wise guide, I found myself still reeling from the loss. But the film allowed no time for mourning. Before I knew it, we were thrust into a scene where Boromir, ovee by the ring''s influence, tried to take it from Frodo.

    The audience''s reaction was swift and harsh.

    "What a piece of shit," someone hissed behind me.

    Another voice chimed in, "Aragorn should''ve just killed him right there."

    The animosity only intensified when Frodo, left with no choice, put on the ring. Boromir''s subsequent regret and desperate calls did little to sway the audience''s opinion.

    I shook my head, listening to the whispers of hate directed at Boromir. While I understood their anger, I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the character. The ring''s corruption was a powerful force, after all.

    But there was no time to dwell on it. The moment Frodo donned the ring, I knew trouble wasing. Sure enough, the enemy sensed his presence, and soon a horde of orcs descended upon the group.

    As the battle unfolded, I found myself oddly impressed by the orcs'' performances. Theirmitment to their roles was unexpected, to say the least. It made me wonder about the behind-the-scenes story of their involvement.

    The fight scenes were intense, each frame filled with action and emotion. Despite my years of watching and critiquing films, I found myselfpletely engrossed.

    The battle raged on, with Frodo desperately trying to hide from the orcs. But his friends, bless their hearts, seemed determined to give away his position. Sam and Pippin kept calling out for Frodo at the top of their lungs.

    A human in the row ahead of me grumbled, "Damn these hobbits, I want to smack some sense into them."

    "They''ve been pretty useless so far," hispanion agreed.

    I couldn''t help but chuckle at their frustration. But just when I thought Frodo was done for, the hobbits surprised us all by effectively distracting the orcs. Maybe they weren''t so useless after all.

    The intensity of the scenes kept building. Aragorn fought the orcs with a grace that belied the desperation of the situation. Even so, he was clearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of attackers.

    Then came a twist I didn''t seeing. Boromir, the character we''d all grown to despise, suddenly appeared to defend Frodo.

    "Run, Frodo!" he shouted, facing down the horde of orcs.

    I felt my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Was this... redemption? I could sense the shift in the audience''s mood, their hatred for Boromir softening as they watched him fight to protect Frodo.

    But then the arrows started to hit Boromir, and my heart sank. Oh no. That ex-prince was at it again, sacrificing another character. I braced myself for what I knew wasing.

    Boromir fought on valiantly, even as the arrows pierced him. When he finally fell to his knees, the orc leader - Lurtz, I think his name was - moved in for the kill. But Aragorn arrived just in time, engaging Lurtz in a fierce duel that ended with the orc''s beheading.

    As Aragorn knelt beside the fallen Boromir, the theater fell silent. We all leaned in, hanging on every word of their exchange.

    Boromir, his voice weak but urgent, spoke of his fears for his home. "The White City... what will happen to my people?"

    Aragorn sped Boromir''s hand, his voice steady and reassuring. "I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail."

    Boromir''s next words hit me like a punch to the gut: "I would have followed you, my brother... my captain... my king."

    I felt a lump form in my throat. It was beautifully done, I had to admit. Though I couldn''t help but notice how Arthur was positioning his character as the linchpin of the story. Clever, if a bit self-aggrandizing.

    "I failed you all," Boromir whispered, hisst words tinged with regret.

    Aragorn''s response was immediate and heartfelt: "No, Boromir, you fought bravely. You have kept your honor."

    As Boromir breathed hisst, I found myself blinking back unexpected tears. Despite my initial skepticism, I had to hand it to Arthur - he knew how to craft a powerful, emotional scene. The ex-prince had done it again, turning a character we initially despised into someone whose death we genuinely mourned.

    As the battle''s aftermath unfolded, I sensed the film drawing to a close. Frodo bid a poignant farewell to hispanions, setting off alone in a boat. But just as I thought we''d seen thest surprise, the camera panned to reveal Gollum''s twisted figure, his eyes fixed hungrily on Frodo''s retreating form.

    Before I could fully process the implications, the scene shifted dramatically. Ancient trees filled the screen, their branches swaying as theymunicated in an unknown, mournfulnguage. The sudden change left me reeling, but nothing could have prepared me for what came next.

    A dragon, majestic and terrifying, soared across the sky beforending with surprising grace. My eyes widened, my mind racing with questions. But before I could even begin to fathom what this meant for the story, the screen faded to ck and the credits began to roll.

    "Did we just experience a cliff hanger?" the critic beside me gasped, his voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

    I nodded, still processing what we''d just seen. "Seems like it," I managed to reply.

    The term ''cliff hanger'' originated from a popr novel series a few decades back, where the author consistently ended Chapters with the protagonist in perilous situations - often literally hanging from cliffs. The term caught on, bing shorthand for any abrupt, suspenseful ending that leaves the audience craving more.

    As the implications of this ending sank in, a thought struck me. "Wait, I forget something. How did they manage to get an actor drag-" But before I could finish my question, a thunderous apuse erupted around me, drowning out my words.

    Swept up in the moment, I found myself on my feet, my handsing together almost of their own ord. My unfinished question faded from my mind as I joined in the standing ovation, the energy in the theater electric.

    As I pped, I couldn''t help but marvel at what I''d just witnessed. Arthur Morningstar had done it again, crafting a film that not only lived up to the hype of "The Demonfather" but in many ways surpassed it.

 Chapter 70: Aroma of Jealousy

    <h4>Chapter 70: Aroma of Jealousy</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    As the credits rolled and the apuse thundered through the theater, I couldn''t wipe the grin off my face. Firfel, Imkrag, Kurt, and I made our way to the stage, basking in the glow of our sess.

    The audience settled into their seats as I stepped up to the microphone. I took a deep breath, savoring the moment before speaking.

    "Well, folks," I began, my voice warm with genuine emotion, "it seems we''ve managed to keep you entertained this evening."

    The crowd erupted in cheers.

    "It was more than entertainment, it was an experience!" someone shouted.

    Another voice chimed in, "You''ve outdone yourself, Morningstar!"

    I chuckled, enjoying their enthusiasm. ncing at my co-stars, I could see the nervousness radiating off Imkrag and Kurt. Poor guys looked like they might bolt at any second. Even Firfel, usually soposed, had a hint of excitement in her eyes.

    Turning back to the audience, I continued, "My film has indeed spoken for itself this evening. And despite not preparing a speech at all - rookie mistake, I know - I can only say that I''m incredibly grateful for how well it''s been received."

    I paused, allowing a hint of genuine emotion to creep into my voice. It wasn''t just the film''s sess that moved me, but also the {System} rewards I''d received forpleting my mission. Not that I could tell them that, of course.

    The audience quieted, picking up on my change in tone. I seized the moment to add, "Creating this film was no small feat. My team and I faced numerous challenges, from budget constraints to logistical nightmares. It took us over a few months of intense work to bring this vision to life."

    I nced around the room, making eye contact with as many people as I could. "While my crew couldn''t be here tonight, I want to emphasize that this film''s greatness isn''t just down to my admittedly brilliant directing," I said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "It''s the result of an incredible team effort."

    As I wrapped up my speech a few minutester, the audience broke into apuse once more. I caught snippets of conversation from nearby:

    "Who knew demons could be so sentimental?"

    "Hey, they''ve got feelings too, you know."

    I smiled to myself. If only they knew the real reason behind my emotions - the {System} rewards waiting for me. But that was my little secret.

    For now, I was content to bask in the afterglow of our sess, surrounded by the warmth of the audience''s appreciation and the pride of a job well done.

    "Here with me tonight are some of the talented actors who brought this story to life. First, we have Kurt Vault, who yed Frodo."

    Kurt stepped forward, bowing nervously to the crowd. Someone in the back shouted, "You''ve gotta protect the ring, Frodo!" elicitingughter from the audience.

    The crowd''s energy was infectious. Someone called out, "How much for the One Ring, Frodo?" eliciting chuckles from the audience.

    I couldn''t help but grin as another voice piped up, "Don''t listen to them, Lady Frodo!"

    Thatstment set off a wave ofughter that swept through the theater. Even I found myself chuckling softly.

    "Alright, alright," I said, trying to regain control of the situation. "I think Kurt''s had enough of the spotlight for now." I turned to introduce the next cast member. "Ladies and gentlemen, the actor who brought Gollum to life - Imkrag!"

    Imkrag stepped onto the stage, his hair once again a wild afro now that filming was over. He gave a nervous bow and an awkward wave to the audience.

    Suddenly, a shrill voice cut through the apuse: "Creep!"

    The shout opened the floodgates, and more yful jabs followed:

    "My precious! Give it to us!"

    "Did you brush your teeth today, Gollum?"

    "He wants fish, yes he does!"

    I watched Imkrag''s face fall, his initial nervousness giving way to genuine hurt. Feeling a pang of guilt, I quickly moved to intervene.

    As I gently pulled Imkrag back, he looked up at me with worried eyes. "Did I do something wrong, boss?"

    The vulnerability in his voice made my heart clench. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and turned back to the microphone.

    Seeing Imkrag''s crestfallen expression, I felt a pang of guilt. I leaned in close, speaking softly so only he could hear. "Hey, don''t take it to heart, buddy. They''re just joking around."

    Imkrag''s eyes met mine, still uncertain. I continued, trying to inject some encouragement into my voice. "Look, you yed a viin, and a damn good one at that. They''re reacting to Gollum, not you. It means you nailed the role. That''s something to be proud of, yeah?"

    A small smile tugged at the corners of Imkrag''s mouth. "You really think so, boss?"

    I nodded firmly. "I know so. Now chin up, you''re a star."

    With Imkrag looking a bit more cheerful, I turned back to the microphone. "Andst but certainly not least, the talented and beautiful Firfel, our Arwen!"

    As Firfel stepped forward, the audience erupted into cheers and whistles. Then thements started:

    "Hey Arthur, when''s the wedding?"

    "Aragorn and Arwen, sitting in a tree..."

    "Did you write that kiss scene yourself, Arthur?"

    I felt my face heat up, a mix of embarrassment and amusement washing over me. Without thinking, I reached out and pulled Firfel closer, which only elicited moreughter and catcalls from the audience.

    Firfel leaned in, her voice low and amused. "Unbelievable people," she muttered, but I caught the hint of a smile on her lips.

    As we made our way off the stage, the audience''s enthusiastic apuse following us, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of pride. Despite the jokes and jabs, it was clear that our film had made an impact.

    I nced at Firfel, Imkrag, and Kurt as we headed backstage. They looked tired but happy, still riding the high of the audience''s reaction. I knew that this was just the beginning.

    ***

    The premiere afterglow was quickly reced by the frenzy of the post-screening interviews. My co-stars and I found ourselves surrounded by a swarm of reporters, their eyes glinting with curiosity and hunger for a scoop. Most of them, unsurprisingly, zeroed in on me.

    An elven reporter with piercing green eyes thrust her microphone towards me. "Your film''s premiere is an unexpected sess. How do you feel?"

    I couldn''t help but smirk a little. "Feels great," I said, keeping it simple.

    Another reporter, a dwarf with an impressively braided beard, chimed in. "This new film of yours far surpassed ''The Demonfather'' in my opinion. Can you tell us who inspired you to make such a film? Especially, what inspired those powerful ring artifacts?"

    I paused for a moment, my mind racing. "Well," I began, crafting my story carefully, "I was inspired by my kingdom''s ancient artifacts that contained immense power. I thought, why not make a movie about ancient artifacts? Powerful rings, maybe? And then I wrote a script for it."

    Suddenly, a tall elf with sharp features and cold eyes spoke up. His voice dripped with disdain. "Really? Because I couldn''t help but notice some... familiar elements in your film. The powerful artifacts, the ancient lore... It all feels rather reminiscent of elven history. Care toment on that?"

    I raised an eyebrow, sensing the trap. "History is full of tales about powerful artifacts. I drew inspiration from many sources."

    The elf - whose name tag read ''Thorne Silverleaf'' - pressed on, his facade of politeness slipping. "Sources, you say? But isn''t it odd how closely your ''inspiration'' aligns with elven lore? One might almost call it a... rip-off."

    Firfel stepped forward, her eyes shing. "That''s quite an usation, Mr. Silverleaf. Are you suggesting elves have exclusive rights to stories about magical items?"

    Thorne''s lip curled. "I''m merely pointing out the simrities. But while we''re on the topic of questionable practices..." He pulled out a folded newspaper. "There are some interesting rumors circting about your previous film, Mr. Morningstar."

    He unfolded the paper, revealing a headline: ''The Truth Behind The Demonfather: Ghost Writers and Secret Directors?''

    "Care to address these allegations?" Thorne asked, his voice dripping with faux concern. "It does seem rather... unlikely that someone with your background could suddenly produce two blockbusters."

    I felt a familiar heat building behind my eyes, but before I could respond, Firfel cut in.

    "Unlikely?" she scoffed. "What''s unlikely is a so-called professional journalist peddling baseless gossip. Arthur''s talent speaks for itself. If you can''t see that, perhaps you''re in the wrong profession."

    Thorne''s face reddened. "Now see here-"

    "No, you see here," Firfel interrupted, her voice steely. "Your jealousy is showing, Mr. Silverleaf. If you have nothing of substance to contribute, I suggest you leave. There are plenty of reputable journalists here who''d love to ask some actual questions."

    As Firfel and Thorne continued their heated exchange, I remained silent, a storm brewing inside me. I could feel a familiar warmth building behind my eyes, a telltale sign of what was toe. My vision started to blur slightly, and I knew that at any moment, my eyes might shift to that intimidating scarlet hue.

    Just as I thought I might lose control, a new voice cut through the tension like a knife through butter.

    "My, my. What an interesting fragrance in the air tonight."

    "Is that... eau de sour grapes I detect?" Caedan continued, his eyes twinkling as theynded on Thorne. "Or perhaps just the pungent aroma of jealousy? It''s so hard to tell sometimes."

    Thorne''s face paled as he recognized the legendary critic. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it. With a final re in my direction, he turned on his heel and stalked away.

 Chapter 71: Proverb

    <h4>Chapter 71: Proverb</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    It all happened in a blur. One moment, Thorne Silverleaf was spewing usations, and the next, he was scurrying away with his tail between his legs. As the dust settled, I found myself face to face with Caedan Aegis.

    Camera shes popped like miniature lightning bolts around us. I nced at Firfel, making a mental note to thank herter, before turning to Caedan.

    "Thank you," I said, genuinely grateful for his intervention.

    Caedan waved it off with a warm smile. "No, no. If anyone should be thanking anyone, it''s me thanking you." He paused, his eyes twinkling. "Your film tonight... it truly satisfied my hunger for great cinema. You''ve created something remarkable, Arthur."

    He pped me on the shoulder, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I''ll be honest, I had my doubts initially, like many others. But tonight? You proved us all wrong. And I''m delighted to have been proven wrong."

    I felt a surge of warmth towards Caedan. No wonder he was a legend in the industry - he was not only insightful but genuinely kind and supportive.

    As the cameras continued to sh, capturing this moment between the ''infamous prince'' and the legendary critic, I bowed slightly. "It''s an honor to receive such high praise from the legendary Caedan Aegis."

    Caedan chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Oh, stop it. I''m just an old critic, that''s all."

    Then, to my surprise, he turned to Firfel and gave her a knowing nod. "And I see you have good taste in women, too. Congrattions." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me slightly bewildered.

    What did he mean by that? I nced at Firfel, suddenly aware of how this might look. We weren''t... were we? No, we definitely weren''t there. Yet.

    Shaking off my confusion, I addressed the eager reporters. "Alright, everyone, we''ll be taking our leave now. It''s been a long day, and we could all use some rest."

    As we made our way through the parting crowd, I turned to Firfel. "Hey, thanks for having my back there."

    Firfel shook her head, a small smile ying on her lips. "Don''t mention it. That reporter was just looking for trouble. After seeing how hard you''ve worked on this film, I couldn''t just stand by." She paused, her eyes meeting mine. "Actually, I should be thanking you for bringing me into this masterpiece of a project."

    I felt a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with my unusual eye-changing ability. As we headed back to our hotel, I couldn''t help but feel that something had shifted between us. Whatever it was, I was looking forward to seeing where it might lead.

    ***

    Two days had flown by since the premiere. Firfel, Imkrag, and Kurt had long since returned to the Morningstar Kingdom, but I''d stuck around in the Moonlight Kingdom. There was still fallout from the "Lord of the Rings" effect to deal with, not to mention potential distributors to wrangle.

    Not that staying was a hardship. Thanks to the portal stone I''d hidden in a cheap house I''d bought in the city, I could pop back to Fend City anytime I needed. Gotta love magical shortcuts.

    As I made my way to the restaurant, I couldn''t help but notice the impact "Lord of the Rings" was having. It had be the darling of the Moonlight Film Festival, and enterprising folks - especially the dwarves - were already cashing in. Handcrafted figurines of Gollum, Frodo, and Aragorn were popping up all over the ce.

    My mind was still buzzing with possibilities as I entered the restaurant, quickly spotting Kyle Love and Fart Lava at a corner table.

    "So, gentlemen," I said as I approached, curiosity getting the better of me, "how''s progress? Kyle, did we secure enough cinemas for the film?"

    As I took a seat, I noticed an exchange of nces between Kyle and Fart. There was a tension in the air that hadn''t been there before.

    "What''s the matter?" I asked, my earlier optimism fading.

    Kyle was quiet for a moment, his expression grim. "We''ve run into some...plications with the distribution."

    I felt my stomach drop. "What kind ofplications?"

    Kyle sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We''ve hit a dead end. Titan Pictures is trying to meddle with the distribution."

    My blood ran cold. Titan Pictures. The name alone was enough to make even the most seasoned filmmakers break out in a cold sweat. One of the biggest studios in the world, based right here in the Evros Continent. If they were involved, this could get messy.

    I leaned back in my chair, trying to process what I was hearing. "Okay, let me get this straight. What''s Titan Pictures'' angle here?"

    Fart cleared his throat, looking ufortable. "It''s like this, Mr. Morningstar. Titan Pictures is putting the squeeze on Love Pictures Entertainment. They want to buy out Kyle''s licensing contract."

    "Why?" I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew the answer.

    "So they can renegotiate with you directly," Fart continued. "They want to control the distribution across the Evros Continent."

    Kyle nodded grimly. "And they''re not being subtle about it. They''ve threatened to block our ess to major cinemas around the Moonlight Kingdom if I don''t y ball."

    I felt a surge of anger mixed with disbelief. "They''re going to these lengths for film distribution? What''s got them so desperate to get their hands on my film''s rights?"

    Fart sighed, rubbing his temples. "Apparently, one of their executives got a look at your film, and well... you can guess the rest."

    I nodded, understanding dawning. They''d seen the potential, and now they wanted a piece of the pie. Or rather, the whole damn bakery.

    Kyle leaned forward, his expression pained. "Mr. Morningstar, I want you to know I really don''t want to sell the distribution rights. But if I don''t..." He trailed off, then continued reluctantly, "Titan Pictures is threatening to use their media connections to boycott your film. And with their ability to block ess to major cinemas... I''m starting to wonder if we have a choice."

    I sat back, feeling the weight of the situation. I''d naively thought that after the "Lord of the Rings" premiere, everything would fall into ce like it did with "The Demonfather". Clearly, I''d underestimated the cutthroat nature of the industry.

    After mulling it over for a moment, I leaned forward, decision made. "Don''t sell it, Mr. Love," I said firmly, then added with a wry smile, "I''ve got a feeling that once they get their hands on those rights, they''ll squeeze everyst penny out of it, leaving me with scraps."

    Kyle''s eyebrows shot up. "Are you certain about this, Mr. Morningstar? It''s a big risk we''d be taking."

    I nodded, feeling more confident by the second. "I''m sure. Look, a little setback isn''t going to kill us. Remember ''The Demonfather''? It faced boycotts, got blocked from major cinemas, and still, look at how that box office turned out."

    Fart leaned in, his expression grave. "With all due respect, Mr. Morningstar, this is a different situation. ''The Demonfather'' caught everyone off guard. Nobody expected it to blow up like it did, so the boycotts and blocks weren''t as... aggressive. But now?" He shook his head. "Titan Pictures knows what they''re dealing with. They''ll pull out all the stops, team up with their partners. They''re not going to underestimate you this time."

    "He''s got a point," Kyle chimed in, his eyes clouded with worry. "You''re not flying under the radar anymore. They know what you''re capable of now."

    I couldn''t help but smile, feeling a surge of confidence despite the grim faces before me. "Gentlemen," I said, leaning forward, "a truly great film will shine through, no matter how many stones of usation are thrown at it."

    I could see the doubt in their eyes, but I wasn''t intimidated by Titan Pictures or their threats. In fact, a part of me was almost looking forward to their attempts to bring us down.

    "Look," I continued, "where there''s sugar, there are ants, right? No matter how well you hide it or how far away you put it, the ants will find it eventually."

    Kyle and Fart exchanged confused nces, clearly not following my train of thought.

    I chuckled, deciding to spell it out for them. "Our film, ''Lord of the Rings,'' is the sugar. The filmgoers are the ants. No matter what Titan Pictures does, if people want to see our film, they''ll find a way."

    I could see understanding dawning in their eyes, but the worry hadn''tpletely faded.

    "In fact," I added, warming to my theme, "their attempts to boycott us might actually work in our favor. Bad publicity is still publicity, after all. They might end up drawing more attention to our film than we ever could on our own."

    Fart shook his head, looking bewildered. "You really think their efforts to bring us down could actually help us?"

    I nodded, feeling more certain by the second. "Of course. People love an underdog story. The more they try to suppress us, the more curious people will be about what all the fuss is about."

    I could see that Kyle and Fart were still worried, and I understood their concern. They hadn''t yet seen firsthand how the machinations of big studios could backfire, inadvertently boosting the very film they were trying to squash.

    "Trust me," I said, meeting their eyes in turn. "I''ve been the underdog my whole life. Sometimes, that''s the best position to be in. We''re going to ride this wave, gentlemen, ande out stronger on the other side."

 Chapter 72: Sweeping Through the awards

    <h4>Chapter 72: Sweeping Through the awards</h4>

    (Kyle Love POV)

    Across the table sat a thin human with an absurd mustache that might have been funny if not for the cold calction in his eyes. His suit probably cost more than my car, and those golden-framed sses weren''t just for show. This was a man used to getting his way.

    Ed Louis took a long drag from his cigarette, deliberately blowing the smoke in my face. "So, you''re rejecting our offer?" His voice was casual, but I could hear the threat underneath.

    I waved away the acrid cloud, fighting the urge to cough. "That''s right," I said, keeping my voice steady.

    Ed stood up abruptly, jabbing his cigarette in my direction. "Do you understand that your decision today will make you regret it in the future?"

    I stood my ground, even as my heart raced. "I believe in the film. I know it''ll be profitable. Selling those rights to you would be foolish."

    He crushed the cigarette in his hand, his lips curling into a sneer. "Profitable? Heh, yeah, good luck with that." His voice dropped to a menacing growl. "No one who goes against Titan Pictures makes money. They all go bankrupt."

    I remained silent, acutely aware of the truth in his words. Titan Pictures was big enough to make good on that threat. It was the source of their arrogance, their certainty that they could bully anyone into submission.

    "Are you sure about your decision?" Ed asked again, giving me onest chance to back down.

    I don''t know where I found the courage, but I looked him straight in the eye. "I don''t want to repeat myself, Ed Louis." Using his full name felt like a small act of defiance.

    Ed''s eyes narrowed. "Alright, have it your way. I hope this decision doesn''te back to haunt you. Because I''m going to make damn sure that Love Pictures Entertainment falls. Remember that."

    With a final huff of anger, he stormed out, leaving me alone with the lingering smell of smoke and my own doubts.

    I sank back into my chair, my bravado evaporating. I couldn''t quite believe what I''d just done. Going up against a studio like Titan Pictures... it was madness. But I was gambling everything on Arthur Morningstar being right. That our film would profit even with a giant like Titan Pictures trying to crush it.

    As the reality of what I''d just done sank in, I couldn''t help but wonder: Had I just saved Love Pictures Entertainment, or signed its death warrant?

    ***

    (Roger POV)

    "Here''s your drink!" I called out, sliding a frothy mug across the bar to a burly customer who caught it with practiced ease.

    The Moonlight Film Festival always brought good business to the tavern. Film enthusiasts from across the kingdom - hell, from around the world - flocked to our little corner of the Moonlight Kingdom. Some came to watch, others to present, but they all seemed to end up here, drowning their excitement or sorrows in our ale.

    Three days in, and I was raking in dozens of dors a day. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

    I might be too busy pouring drinks to actually attend the festival, but I didn''t need to. The hot gossip came to me, carried on the slurred words of my patrons.

    "I''m tellin'' ya," a red-faced elf slurred, mming his mug down for emphasis, "Lord of the Rings is somethin'' else. Incredible, it was!"

    His dwarfpanion nodded vigorously. "Aye, hard to believe there''d be another film to top The Demonfather so soon."

    A human at the end of the bar scoffed. "Lord of the Rings? Please. It can''t hold a candle to Demonfather."

    "You''re off your rocker," another patron chimed in. "Lord of the Rings is clearly superior."

    "In your dreams, maybe," the human shot back.

    A half-elf raised his hands, trying to y peacekeeper. "Why argue? They''re both made by the same demon, aren''t they?"

    A collective groan rose from the group.

    "Say," the dwarf piped up, changing the subject, "any of you lot catch that picture in the paper? The one with the infamous prince and that famous critic?"

    My ears perked up at that. It had been days of this - "Lord of the Rings" on everyone''s lips, snippets of plot leaked through drunken retellings.

    It wasn''t just my customers, either. The newspapers and magazines I''d picked up to keep tabs on the festival were stered with headlines about "Lord of the Rings". You''d think no other films were even showing.

    "I don''t get it," a gruff voice cut through the chatter. "Been hearing about this ''Lord of the Rings'' non-stop. What''s the big deal?"

    I nced over to see a burly human addressing the group of film enthusiasts.

    An elf with silver hair leaned in. "It''s the talk of the festival. You should give it a watch."

    The human snorted. "Festival? Don''t have time for that nonsense."

    "Then you''ll never know what you''re missing," the elf shot back, a hint of smugness in his voice.

    The human''s brow furrowed. "Missing? ording to this," he waved a crumpled newspaper, "it''s so bad critics couldn''t even sit through it."

    Curious, I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the headline: "Infamous Prince''s ''Lord of the Rings'' - A Disaster of Epic Proportions".

    The elf snatched the paper, scanned it, then tossed it aside with a scoff. "Rubbish. They''re clearly not telling the truth."

    "But it''s not just this one," the human said, looking thoughtful. "I''ve seen a few papers trashing it. Makes you wonder."

    The elf''s eyes lit up. "Then see for yourself! Join us. We''ll even spot you a ticket."

    The human''s eyebrows shot up. "Yeah? Alright, I''m game."

    And just like that, they were out the door, the human swept up in the enthusiasts'' wake.

    I shook my head, chuckling to myself. This wasn''t the first time I''d seen this y out. Seemed like every other day, some skeptic would wander in, head full of bad reviews, only to get dragged off by die-hard fans determined to convert them.

    "This year''s festival is something else," I muttered, wiping down the bar. "More interesting, sure, but a hell of a lot weirder too."

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Two weeks of the Moonlight Film Festival had flown by in a blur. I''d been ping-ponging between Moon City and home, juggling the festival circus with ourputer project. Exhausting doesn''t even begin to cover it.

    But today was the big one - the festival''s grand finale. Awards day. My stomach was in knots as I sat in the packed auditorium, waiting for the ceremony to start.

    "Lord of the Rings" had snagged nominations for just about everything, including the festival''s most prestigious awards: the Lunar Laurel for Best Director and the Celestial Crown for Best Film. We were also up for a slew of minor awards like the Audience Choice Award and the Best Screeny.

    Herold Green, the festival director, took the stage, his silver robes shimmering under the spotlights. He started with the minor categories, and I found myself holding my breath each time he opened an envelope.

    "Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, we begin with our minor awards..."

    I tried to pay attention as he rattled off the winners, but my mind kept drifting to the big ones. Still, I couldn''t help but grin as "Lord of the Rings" swept up award after award in the smaller categories. The Audience''s Choice Award, the Best Screeny, Best Visuals, the Best Soundtrack trophy - they all came our way.

    Finally, Herold reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope I''d been waiting for all night.

    "And now, the moment you''ve all been waiting for. The Lunar Laurel for Best Director goes to..."

 Chapter 73: Controversy

    <h4>Chapter 73: Controversy</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The room held its collective breath as Herold Green fingered the envelope containing the winner of the Lunar Laurel for Best Director. He cleared his throat, milking the moment for all it was worth.

    "And the award goes to... ''Lord of the Rings'' directed by Arthur Morningstar!"

    The announcement hit like a thunderp. A beat of silence, then a cacophony of reactions.

    "This can''t be possible," an elf filmmaker muttered, his face a mask of disbelief.

    He wasn''t alone. The room buzzed with shocked whispers. Sure, "Lord of the Rings" had been cleaning up in the minor categories, but this? This was different. The main awards were supposed to be above such... upsets.

    All eyes turned to Arthur Morningstar - the infamous prince turned filmmaker - as he made his way to the stage. He epted the silver award, looking almost as surprised as everyone else.

    Herold beamed, practically bouncing on his toes. "You''re making history, Arthur Morningstar! First demon filmmaker to win a main award at this festival, and your film''s sweeping the board!"

    Arthur blinked, as if trying to process it all. "Yeah, it''s... it''s something alright. Honestly, I''m still wrapping my head around the fact that this festival was willing to embrace a film from a demon."

    Herold''s smile widened. "At this festival, we don''t care if it''s made by demons, elves, or even orcs. Good cinema is good cinema."

    Arthur chuckled, the sound a mix of amusement and lingering disbelief.

    In the audience, a sea of sour faces. Filmmakers who''d been so sure of their chances now sat rigid in their seats, a bitter taste in their mouths. The word ''cheated'' hung unspoken in the air.

    But for the journalists present, it was a feeding frenzy. Pens flew across notepads, cameras shed. This was history in the making - a demon film shattering records and expectations at the Moonlight Film Festival.

    The excitement only grew when "Lord of the Rings" snagged the Celestial Crown for Best Film. It was a clean sweep, unprecedented and undeniable.

    Well, almost undeniable. In the back of the room, a cluster of journalists from Titan Pictures-owned papers huddled together, faces grim. They''d been under orders to trash "Lord of the Rings," but this... this made their job significantly harder.

    "Rigged festival?" one suggested half-heartedly.

    Another sighed. "Maybe we can spin it as a shocking upset that calls the integrity of the whole event into question?"

    They knew it was weak, but what choice did they have? Sometimes, the story writes itself, whether you like it or not.

    ***

    The Moonlight Film Festival was a grand spectacle that drew over fifty thousand visitors from across the world to Moon City. Yet, ironically, the majority of the city''s three hundred thousand residents barely gave it a second nce. Most were too caught up in their daily grind to spare a thought for the cinematic extravaganza unfolding in their midst.

    Still, the festival was a source of pride for the kingdom, and even the busiest locals kept an ear to the ground. They might not have had time to watch the films, but they devoured the newspaper coverage, eager to stay in the loop.

    Among the myriad of films mentioned, one title kept popping up: "Lord of the Rings." It wasn''t the glowing reviews or critical acim that etched this name into the public consciousness, though. No, it was the relentless barrage of negative press that made it unforgettable.

    Day after day, the city''s major newspapers stered their front pages with scathing headlines about "Lord of the Rings." The sheer volume and vitriol of the criticism was impossible to ignore. It was as if the papers were waging a personal vendetta against the film.

    Ironically, this constant thrashing had the opposite effect of what was likely intended. Instead of burying "Lord of the Rings" in obscurity, it elevated the film to a topic of widespread curiosity and discussion. Even those who had no interest in cinema found themselves wondering about this apparently controversial movie that had riled up the press so thoroughly.

    The morning after the Moonlight Film Festival''s conclusion, the streets of Moon City buzzed with activity. A young elf, his voice cracking with excitement, darted between pedestrians, waving fresh newspapers.

    "Extra! Extra! Demon film dominates Moonlight Film Festival! Sweeps award categories! Get your morning news here!"

    An older elf, his curiosity piqued, approached the boy. "What''s this about a demon film dominating what now?"

    The newsboy grinned, sensing a sale. "All the details are right here, sir! Just one coin for the full story!"

    With a sigh and a shake of his head, the elf fished out a coin. "This better be worth it,d."

    "Thank you, sir! Enjoy your read!" The boy pocketed the coin and darted off to his next potential customer.

    The elf unfolded the paper, his eyebrows shooting up as he read the bold headline:

    "''Lord of the Rings'' Conquers Moonlight Film Festival! Demon Film ims Top Honors, Sparking Controversy!"

    As he walked, the elf muttered under his breath, "The festival, rigged? Surely not..."

    Around him, other passersby were engrossed in their own copies, their reactions a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

    "This calls for an investigation," a dwarf grumbled to hispanion.

    "Agreed," the other nodded. "The integrity of the festival is at stake."

    Not everyone was focused on potential scandal, though. A pair of humans nearby seemed more interested in the film itself.

    "I''m curious to see just how bad this ''Lord of the Rings'' really is," one mused.

    Her friend scoffed. "I heard Love Pictures Entertainment is distributing it. Always knew Kyle Love was in cahoots with demons."

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    And so it begins. I sifted through the stack of newspapers I''d just bought, my eyes skimming the headlines. A handful praised "Lord of the Rings," highlighting its historic win for demon entertainment. But the major papers? They were out for blood.

    "''Lord of the Rings'': A Stolen Tale?" screamed one headline.

    "Film Festival Rigged? Demon Movie''s Sweep Raises Eyebrows," dered another.

    "Moonlight Festival Loses Credibility with Controversial Win," a third proimed.

    I tossed the papers aside with a snort. Let them rant and rave. In the end, sess speaks louder than any headline. And I knew, deep in my bones, that "Lord of the Rings" would have thestugh.

    As I stuffed thest of my belongings into my travel bag, my mind wandered to the journey ahead. Sure, I could pop back to the Morningstar Kingdom in an instant thanks to my handy portal. But sometimes, the old-fashioned way has its perks.

    For one, I needed to maintain appearances. An exiled prince suddenly materializing out of thin air might raise a few too many eyebrows. Plus, the airport would be crawling with reporters and industry folks. A perfect opportunity to gauge reactions, maybe drop a few choice quotes for the press to chew on.

    And if I''m being honest? A part of me wanted to savor this moment. To feel the weight of that Lunar Laurel in my bag, to see the sideways nces and whispered conversations as I walked through the terminal. Let them wonder, let them gossip. The story of the demon who conquered the Moonlight Film Festival was just beginning.

    With a final nce around the room, I shouldered my bag and headed for the door. Time to face the music - and maybe conduct a little orchestra of my own.

 Chapter 74: Iâ€™m back, honey

    <h4>Chapter 74: I''m back, honey</h4>

    (Arthur''s POV)

    As I made my way down the sidewalk, the whispers followed me like a bad smell. They weren''t even trying to be subtle about it.

    "Is that Arthur Morningstar? The one who supposedly rigged our prestigious film festival?"

    "Must be. Despicable demon, isn''t he?"

    I kept my face neutral, pushing down the urge to roll my eyes. Then an elf nearby decided to get bold.

    "Go back to your kingdom, demon," he spat.

    I turned, meeting his gaze coolly. "That''s the n."

    Their words didn''t really get under my skin. After all, they were just parroting what they''d heard, dancing to Titan Pictures'' tune like good little puppets. Obviously, none of them had actually seen "Lord of the Rings." Their loss.

    But soon enough, when the film hit cinemas across the Moonlight Kingdom, they''d see for themselves. For now, Titan Pictures was doing my marketing for me, free of charge. Couldn''t ask for better publicity, really.

    As I approached the airport, I couldn''t help but smile, thinking about mytest reward from the system.

    <strong>[Heartstrings: A rare and powerful emotional maniption skill that enables the director to subtly shape the emotions of their actors, drawing out deeply authentic and captivating performances.]</strong>

    It was still at level one, only affecting three actors at a time for five shoots a day before exhaustion set in. But with practice, who knew how far I could push it? I was no stranger to leveling up skills, after all. {Nether Surge} had taught me patience.

    The moment I stepped into the airport, I was swarmed by reporters. Their questions hit me like a wave.

    "How do you respond to the usations of rigging the film festival?"

    I kept my cool, my voice level as I responded, "How could a demon like me possibly influence the festival? Only good films can sway the MFF. And my film? It''s a damn good film."

    As the reporters scribbled furiously, I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. Let them write their hit pieces. In the end, the film would speak for itself.

    ***

    After weathering a storm of usations from journalists in Moon City, I finally boarded an airship back to the Morningstar Kingdom. Two days and severalyoverster, I touched down in Fend Airport. No surprise, a swarm of demon reporters was waiting for me like vultures circling a carcass.

    The moment I stepped into view, they descended en masse.

    "Mr. Morningstar! We''ve heard about your film dominating the MFF!"

    "How does it feel to make history for demon entertainment?"

    I stered on my best media smile. "Pretty damn good, if I''m being honest." I reached into my bag, pulling out the Lunar Laurel trophy. Might as well give them a show. "Being the first demon to snag this prestigious award? It''s an honor, and yeah, I''m proud as hell."

    The reporters'' eyes bulged as they gawked at the award. You''d think I was holding the keys to the kingdom or something.

    Then, predictably, came the question I''d been asked a hundred times back in Moon City: "What''s your response to the controversy about rigging the MFF?"

    The crowd went quiet, all eyes on me. I nced at the reporter who''d asked, noting the "BM Newspaper" logo on his jacket. Ah, Bobby''s rag. No wonder.

    I sighed, not bothering to hide my exasperation. "Look, I''ve answered this question more times than I can count back in Moon City. If you''re that curious, wait for the elf newspapers to hit the stands. They''ve got all my responses in ck and white."

    As I pushed past the stunned reporters, I couldn''t help but smirk. Let them chew on that for a while. I had bigger fish to fry.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    News of Arthur Morningstar''s "Lord of the Rings" dominating the prestigious MFF spread like wildfire through the Morningstar Kingdom. The demon popce was torn. Pride in their race''s achievement warred with their dislike of the "weak" ex-prince. Some basked in the reflected glory, while others, fueled by rumors of rigging, spat disgust at Arthur''s name.

    Among thetter group, none burned with more fury than Bobby Morningstar. In the BM Newspaper office, he paced like a caged animal, his face twisted in a snarl.

    "This is uneptable!" Bobby roared, mming his fist on the desk. He whirled on Ashen Gray, CEO of Demon Pictures. "How is my worthless brother getting all this attention? And why isn''t my colored film, screening for two weeks now, producing better sales? Exin yourself, Gray!"

    Ashen maintained hisposure, though a muscle twitched in his jaw. "With all due respect, Your Highness, it''s not our studio''s fault. We poured everything into making your film the best it could be-"

    "Then why isn''t it popr yet?" Bobby cut in, his voice rising to a shout.

    Ashen fell silent, internally kicking himself. He regretted agreeing to Bobby''s vanity project, but even more, he cursed himself for turning down Arthur''s proposal. That film had raked in millions upon millions. The thought made Ashen want to bang his head against the wall.

    Noticing Ashen''s silence, Bobby pressed on. "And my brother''s second film is getting all this buzz? How do you exin that?"

    Ashen''s face screamed ''how should I know?'', but he kept his tone measured. "Your Highness, even before the ex-prince''s second film was made, it was under intense scrutiny. I believe it''s a domino effect from ''The Demonfather''s'' sess. That film created such a stir, it naturally drummed up interest in his next project."

    Bobby listened, nodding reluctantly. "I suppose that makes sense." But the sour expression never left his face.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    "Honey, I''m home," I called out as I strolled into the studio, unable to keep the grin off my face.

    The crew''s heads snapped up, a chorus of grins breaking out across the room.

    "Wee back, boss!" George bellowed, though the knowing glint in his eye reminded me of our little portal secret. Theputer team and I had been ying a bit of interdimensional hopscotchtely.

    Lilith practically bounced over. "We heard about the MFF sess! Is it true?"

    "Can we see the hardware?" Klein chimed in, eyes wide with anticipation.

    A chorus of "Yeah!" and "Show us!" erupted from the group.

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. These guys, most of them fresh out of the Infernal Institute of Cinematic Arts, were practically salivating at the thought of seeing a real MFF award up close. Can''t say I med them.

    "Alright, alright," I said, reaching into my bag. "Feast your eyes on these beauties."

    The moment the awards came out, I was swarmed. Again. Felt like d¨¦j¨¤ vu after all those reporter mobs. But this? This felt good.

    They oohed and aahed over the trophies, particrly the Lunar Laurel for Best Director and the Celestial Crown for Best Film.

    Just as I was basking in the team''s excitement, a familiar gravelly voice cut through the chatter. "Congrattions, Your Highness."

    We all turned to see Rocky, decked out in a suit that actually fit him for once, a warm smile on his weathered face.

    I couldn''t help but grin back. "Rocky, you old dog. Looking sharp. Come to join the celebration?"

    Rocky''s smile widened as he sauntered over. "The moment I heard your second flick was sweeping the MFF, I hightailed it over here. Seems you''ve gone and made another masterpiece." He raised an eyebrow, a hint of mock usation in his voice. "Without me, I might add."

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Oh,e on, Rocky. You''re a bonafide superstar now. Didn''t think you''d need little old me anymore."

    Rocky rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. He leaned in to get a better look at the awards. "Next time, don''t leave me out of the fun, yeah? Thanks to you, I can''t exactly go back to hawking tickets at my old theater without causing a riot. Need something to keep me from going stir-crazy."

    I pped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Alright, alright. Next time we cook up some movie, you''ll be my first call. Can''t have our resident celebrity wasting away from boredom, can we?"

    Rocky''s eyes lit up, though he tried to y it cool. "Well, if you insist. Someone''s got to keep you young whippersnappers in line."

 Chapter 75: Agency?

    <h4>Chapter 75: Agency?</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Seeing Rocky, I couldn''t help but think about the other cast of "The Demonfather" - Johnny Devilkin, Charles Flirt, Vivienne Westwood, Richard, and the rest. Word on the street was that they were all riding high on the film''s sess, their schedules packed with new projects.

    Oddly enough, Rocky was the only one I hadn''t heard much about since the film blew up. I''d just assumed he was cashing in like the others, enjoying his newfound fame and fortune.

    As I poured Rocky a cup of the popr Morningstar Tea, curiosity got the better of me. "So, old timer, how''s life been treating you since ''The Demonfather'' hit it big?"

    Rocky let out a long-suffering sigh, taking a sip of his tea. "Terrible, if I''m being honest."

    I blinked, caught off guard. Looking at his fancy new threads, I couldn''t help but be skeptical. "Terrible? You''re dressed like you own half the city. What gives?"

    He shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. "Looks can be deceiving, kid. Had to hire someone to run the theater - can''t even show my face there without causing a riot. Been cooped up at home most days, dodging fans like they''re debt collectors."

    I winced, starting to get the picture. "That bad, huh?"

    "You have no idea," Rocky continued, warming to his tale of woe. "Went to my cousin''s birthday celebration a few weeks back. By the end of it, my hand was cramping from all the autographs, and my face felt like it might crack from all the smiling for pictures. Exhausting doesn''t even begin to cover it."

    I felt a pang of guilt. I''d been so caught up in my own whirlwind, I hadn''t stopped to think about how Rocky''s life might have changed.

    "Sounds rough," I offeredmely, not sure what else to say.

    Rocky nodded, a hint of his old self peeking through. "Only recently, now that the ''Demonfather'' hype has died down a bit, have I been able to poke my head out without being mobbed. It''s a relief, let me tell you."

    I nodded, trying to piece things together. "Huh. I figured you''d be drowning in acting projects by now."

    Rocky let out a dry chuckle. "Hard to get project when you''re not signed with an agency, kid."

    I nearly choked on my tea. "Wait, what? You haven''t signed with anyone yet?"

    "Nope," Rocky shrugged. Then, with a sly grin, "Why? You offering?"

    "Me? Nah, I don''t... I mean, I don''t have an agency," I stammered, not wanting to overstep.

    Rocky leaned back, eyeing me thoughtfully. "You know, Your Highness, with your studio on the rise, ever consider starting your own agency?"

    The question caught me off guard. "My own agency?" I muttered, the wheels in my head starting to turn.

    "Yeah," Rocky nodded. "Look, I''ve had offers, but I don''t trust ''em. But you? If you started something, I''d sign in a heartbeat."

    I stroked my chin, the idea taking root. "You know, that''s not half bad. Could bring Firfel, Imkrag, Kurt, Vivienne, the whole gang under one roof."

    Rocky''s eyes lit up. "So, you''re gonna do it?"

    I chuckled, the possibilities unfolding. "Why not? It''d be good for the studio. Plus, I wouldn''t have to shell out a fortune every time I want to cast Firfel or the others."

    "Well, well," Rocky grinned, "looks like someone''s learned to y the game. I suggest it ''cause I want representation, but you were more interested in saving money."

    "Hey, someone''s got to watch the bottom line," I shot back with a grin. "Especially with the kingdom''s new ''films tax'' taking a bite out of my profits."

    Rocky nodded, his expression turning serious. "Yeah, read about that. Tough break, kid."

    ***

    No sooner had I decided to start an agency than I was knee-deep in legal jargon. I''d hired a legal team from the well-known demonw firm, to get "Hellfire Agency" off the ground. Their job? Navigate the bureaucratic nightmare of obtaining a license from the Morningstar Kingdom''s local government.

    This wasn''t going to be like starting Hellfire Studios, where my princely status had greased the wheels. Now, as an exiled prince, I was just another schmuck with a dream - albeit one with a famousst name.

    To speed things up, I decided to pay a visit to my dear sister, Lucy Morningstar. Sure, she was just the "Minister of Economic Development and Tourism," but she was still a princess with government connections. Time to cash in on some family favors.

    I strolled into the imposing Chamber of Infernal Commerce, watching the government drones do a double-take. You''d think they''d never seen an exiled prince before.

    "I''m here to see Lucy Morningstar," I announced to the receptionist, trying to sound important.

    She barely looked up from her hellphone. "Do you have an appointment?"

    "No, but-"

    "Then you can wait," she cut me off, reaching for the telephone. "I''ll call her office."

    I slumped into a chair in the lobby, watching as she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. After what felt like an eternity of bureaucratic purgatory, she called out, "Mr. Arthur?"

    I perked up. "Yes?"

    "The princess will see you now. Follow me."

    As we trudged down the hallway, I couldn''t help but gawk at the propaganda stered on the walls. "Morningstar - the Hope of all Demons," one poster proimed. Another assured, "We Care for all Demons. We don''t judge you for how evil you are." My personal favorite? "Let''s support our king''s n of reunification!" Yeah, because that''s going so well.

    It was surreal, my first time in this bastion of bureaucracy. I''d spent my whole life avoiding ces like this. We finally reached a red door, and the receptionist gave it a perfunctory knock.

    "Enter," Lucy''s voice rang out, crisp and authoritative.

    The receptionist gestured at the golden doorknob, clearly done with ying tour guide. I took the hint and let myself in.

    Lucy''s office was... well, "opulent" doesn''t quite cover it. It looked like a dragon''s hoard had mated with a luxury hotel suite. ''So this is where the people''s tax money goes,'' I thought, trying not to roll my eyes.

    "What brings you here?" Lucy asked, barely looking up from her desk. Her name tag, all fancy demon calligraphy on gold, probably cost more than most demons make in a month.

    I plopped down in the chair across from her, abandoning any pretense of formality. "Just here to ask for a few favors, sis."

    That got her attention. "Favors?" she echoed, eyebrow raised.

    Iid it out for her - my ns for the agency, the red tape I was facing, the whole nine yards.

    "You want to start your own talent agency?" Lucy''s surprise was almostical. "Why in the nine hells would you want to deal with all that oversight and regtion?"

    I paused, mulling it over. She had a point. This wasn''t like starting Hellfire Stories, a book publishingpany - this was a whole new level of bureaucratic nightmare. But I''de too far to back down now.

    "Look," I said, leaning forward, "having my own stable of actors just makes sense. It''ll streamline everything for my future projects." It sounded weak even to my own ears, but it was the best I coulde up with on the spot.

    Lucy''s skeptical look told me she wasn''t buying it, but hey, at least I was trying. Now came the real challenge - convincing my by-the-book sister to bend those rules just a little bit for her ck sheep brother.

 Chapter 76: Hellfire Agency

    <h4>Chapter 76: Hellfire Agency</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Lucy''s interrogation felt like itsted for half an hour. I kept circling back to one point: "Come on, I''ve paid a fortune in taxes from ''The Demonfather.'' You can''t throw me this one bone?"

    She sighed, her expression a mix of exasperation and something else. Pity, maybe? "I can''t just bend the rules for you, Arthur. You''re a civilian now, remember?"

    Her words hit like a bucket of ice water. I was about to slink out when she dropped another bombshell: "By the way, I''ve been hearing rumors. Did you really bribe the MFF to sweep the awards?"

    I froze, then turned to face her. Looking her dead in the eye, I said, "Bribed? The MFF? Come on, Lucy. Everyone knows they''re as incorruptible as theye. It''s not possible, and you know it."

    She nodded, but her eyes were sharp. "I hope you''re telling the truth. Bribing an event like the MFF... that''s not just frowned upon. It''s asking for a world of trouble."

    "Don''t worry about it," I said, trying to keep my voice light as I made my exit. But inside, I was seething.

    ***

    Days crawled by, and I was no closer to solving my agency problem. With "Lord of the Rings" set to release in two weeks, I knew the value of actors like Firfel, Shafel, and Rupert would skyrocket. I needed to act fast.

    Just when I was about to throw in the towel, an unlikely savior appeared: Anubis meworth, a local mob boss with a surprising soft spot for cinema. He offered to help navigate the legal hurdles, no questions asked.

    I was skeptical at first - getting in bed with the mob wasn''t exactly on my to-do list. But Anubis worked miracles. In just two days, he had "Hellfire Agency" up and running, all above board. Well, as above board as anything involving the mob can be.

    With the legal stuff sorted, I snagged a cheap building in the district nobody wanted and set up shop. My newly hired team hit the ground running, negotiating with the agencies holding Firfel, Vivienne, and the others.

    Meanwhile, I wasted no time signing Imkrag, Kurt, and Rocky. Imkrag and Kurt were priority - with "Lord of the Rings" still unreleased here, they were flying under the radar. For now.

    The ink was barely dry on the contracts when I saw Imkrag and Kurt''s jaws drop. You''d think I''d offered them the keys to the kingdom instead of a measly thirty grand upfront.

    "This... this is for real?" Imkrag stammered, his eyes wide as saucers.

    I couldn''t help but smirk. "Wee to Hellfire Agency, boys."

    Their pens couldn''t move fast enough. In the blink of an eye, I had two new talents under my belt. It was a start, but I knew the real challengey ahead.

    Later that day, I found myself in my new office at Hellfire Agency. The ce was still a work in progress, but I was determined to give it a different vibe from my Hellfire Studio setup. New venture, new me, right?

    I''d hung up some self-drawn posters of "The Demonfather," "Lord of the Rings," and even "Dragon Ball" back at the studio. But here? This ce was getting the VIP treatment.

    My fingers traced the cool metal of the Lunar Laurel as I ced it on my desk, right next to the Celestial Crown. Not too shabby for an exiled prince, if I do say so myself. The rest of the Moonlight Film Festival awards found their homes on the shelves, a testament to how far I''de.

    I was lost in thought, adjusting a crooked frame, when Klein burst through the door like he had hellhounds on his tail.

    "What''s up?" I asked, not bothering to turn around.

    Klein''s voice was strained. "Boss, we''ve hit a snag. The agencies holding Firfel, Vivienne, Shafel, and the others? They''re not budging."

    I nodded, unsurprised. This was exactly why I''d been in such a rush to get Hellfire Agency off the ground, even stooping to asking my greedy sister for help. With "Lord of the Rings" set to hit theaters in two weeks, I knew the value of those actors would skyrocket. Especially Firfel as Arwen, Shafel as Gdriel, and Rupert as Boromir. We needed to move fast.

    I leaned back in my chair, eyeing Klein. "Look, this isn''t unexpected. Here''s what we''ll do: ask them to name their price. If it''s steep, we''ll negotiate. Find their bottom line."

    Klein nodded, a determined glint in his eye. "Got it, boss. I''ll get on it right away."

    As he hurried out, I turned to the window, my mind a whirlwind of possibilities and potential pitfalls. The clock was ticking. In just two weeks, "Lord of the Rings" would hit screens across the Morningstar Kingdom. I needed to move fast, especially when it came to Firfel, Shafel, and Rupert. Their stock was about to soar, and I wanted them under the Hellfire Agency banner before that happened.

    ***

    The next few days were a blur of negotiations and number-crunching. My team worked around the clock, juggling offers and counteroffers. It was like trying to herd cats ¨C if the cats were shrewd agents guarding their golden geese.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity of back-and-forth, we made a breakthrough. The agencies'' resolve crumbled when I put serious money on the table: two hundred thousand for Firfel, fifty thousand for Shafel, and eighty thousand for Rupert. It was a hefty sum, but I knew it would pay off in the long run.

    As I signed the final contract, bringing these talented actors under the Hellfire Agency umbre, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. We''d done it. The core of my "Lord of the Rings" cast was now part of my growing empire.

    Of course, there was still work to be done. Charles Flirt, Johnny Devilkin, and Vivienne Westwood were still out there, free agents waiting to be scooped up. But I wasn''t in a rush. They''de around eventually.

    ***

    Two dayster, I weed Firfel to my office. As she stepped in, her eyes widened with surprise.

    "Wait, it was your agency that bought out my contract?" she asked, a mix of disbelief and amusement in her voice.

    I couldn''t help but grin. "Yep. Hellfire Agency is officially open for business. And let''s just say, acquiring your talents wasn''t exactly cheap."

    A slow smile spread across Firfel''s face. "So you''re the mysterious new agency everyone at my old ce was buzzing about." She paused, her expression softening. "You know, I was a bit worried at first. Didn''t know if I was being handed off to some shady outfit."

    I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. "Shady? Well, you''re not entirely wrong. Now that you''re under my agency, I''ll be saving a fortune on casting fees for my future projects. You work for me now, remember?"

    Firfel rolled her eyes, but I could see the amusement dancing in them. "You''re terrible, you know that?"

    "So I''ve been told," I replied with a wink. "But admit it, you wouldn''t have it any other way."

 Chapter 77: LOTR Box Office Success

    <h4>Chapter 77: LOTR Box Office Sess</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The streets of Fend City hummed with early morning activity. Demons, elves, and dwarves bustled about, starting their daily routines. On every street corner and shop window, film posters fought for attention, but one dominated thendscape: "Lord of the Rings."

    A group of demon workers who knew one another paused in front of therge poster, whispering quietly among themselves.

    "Isn''t this the film that won all those awards at the elf festival?" stocky demon asked, squinting at the image.

    A demon with horns that curled like ram''s nodded. "Yeah, it''s that exiled prince''s second film. Causing quite a stir, from what I hear."

    An imp, clutching a newspaper, sneered as he approached his colleagues. "Load of rubbish, if you ask me. Says right here in the Demons Daily that it''s a steaming pile of dragon dung." He tapped the paper for emphasis.

    One of his coworkers shrugged. "Why don''t we get tickets? I''m curious about this award-winning film, rigged or not."

    The imp hesitated, then nced at the screening date on the poster.

    "February 22, 1272," he read aloud. After a moment''s consideration, he shrugged. "Ah, why not? Can''t deny I''m a bit curious myself."

    As they moved on, more passersby stopped to gawk at the poster. The buzz around "Lord of the Rings" was impossible to ignore. While some demon newspapers praised it for bringing glory to their entertainment industry, the major outlets were tearing it to shreds.

    Yet, despite the negative press ¨C or perhaps because of it ¨C demons couldn''t stop talking about the film. They might im to believe the bad reviews, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity that even the harshest criticism couldn''t quash.

    Days slipped by, and February 22nd crept closer. The major media outlets patted themselves on the back, convinced their smear campaign against "Lord of the Rings" was working its dark magic. Everywhere you turned, demons were muttering about how awful the film was bound to be.

    Titan Pictures, having joined forces with the demon media moguls to boycott "Lord of the Rings," were practically purring with satisfaction. Their poison even spread through the Evros Continent like wildfire.

    The headlines grew more oundish by the day:

    "Lord of the Rings: A Testament to Stupidity, Starring Unintelligent Orcs"

    "Exclusive: Caedan Aegis Confronts Ex-Prince Arthur, Calls Film ''An Abomination''"

    Thest one cameplete with a photo of Caedan and Arthur from the Moonlight Film Festival - the very moment when Caedan had actually praised the film. But the article twisted the context entirely, iming Caedan''s animated expression was one of disgust rather than admiration. It was a tant misrepresentation, but people eager for scandal ate it up without question.

    As the release date loomed, more and more demons in the Morningstar Kingdom bought into the hype. "Can''t wait to see the ex-prince fall on his face," became amon refrain. After the unexpected sess of "The Demonfather," many were eager to see Arthur brought low.

    Spection ran rampant, insults flew freely, and then... the moment of truth arrived. February 22, 1272 dawned, bright and full of possibility.

    Across the kingdom, 2,100 theaters threw open their doors, ready to screen "Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring."

    It wasn''t the wide release Arthur had dreamed of - the major studios had flexed their muscles, strong-arming key cinemas into rejecting the film.

    ***

    At the Fend Grand Theatre, owned by Rocky himself, was buzzing with activity. A sea of demons stretched around the block, all eager to catch "Lord of the Rings." The sheer number of attendees caught many off guard.

    A fiend demon named Jimmy scratched his horns, bewildered. "I thought this film was supposed to be trash. What''s with the crowd?"

    His demoness girlfriend, L, shrugged. "Morbid curiosity, maybe? Everyone wants to see just how bad it is."

    "Huh," Jimmy mused. "Guess a lot of folks are itching to watch that exiled prince crash and burn."

    L snorted. "You said it. Demons will pay good money to see that weakling fall t on his face."

    After what felt like an eternity, they finally settled into their seats. The theater hummed with anticipation as the lights dimmed.

    From the moment the film began, expectations were shattered. The scaling resolution alone drew gasps of awe, but it was the world and story that truly captivated the audience.

    As the credits rolled, the theater erupted with chatter.

    "I can''t believe they killed off Boromir just like that," a demon with bat-like wingsmented.

    His friend scoffed. "He had iting. Aragorn''s the real deal ¨C now that''s a king I could get behind."

    "But what about that dragon at the end?" a young demoness chimed in. "I need to know what happens next!"

    As they filed out of the theater, the conversation continued to buzz around them. Gone was the anticipation of witnessing a disaster. Instead, demons found themselves dissecting characters, debating plot points, and specting about sequels.

    Jimmy turned to L, a look of shock still on his face. "Did we just... enjoy that?"

    L nodded, equally surprised. "I think we did. Huh. Who would''ve thought?"

    As the first day of screenings came to a close, it was clear that something unexpected had happened.

    ***

    The next morning, Ashen Gray sat in his plush office at Demon Pictures, basking in the glow of yesterday''s box office numbers. Theirtest film, strategically released topete with "Lord of the Rings," had pulled in a respectable 600 thousand dors. Sure, taxes would take a bite, but Ashen wasn''t worried.

    He allowed himself a smug smile. The major studios'' decision to boycott "Lord of the Rings" and block its ess to key cinemas seemed to be paying off. His film was enjoying a cushy run in 4,210 theaters across the kingdom.

    Just as he was about to pour himself a celebratory ss of whiskey, his secretary burst through the door like she had hellhounds on her tail.

    Ashen''s brow furrowed. "Whitney, for hell''s sake! Have you forgotten how to knock?"

    "I''m sorry, sir!" Whitney gasped, bowing quickly. "But you need to see this. Now." She pped a newspaper on his desk with trembling hands.

    Ashen raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "What''s got you so worked up?" He picked up the paper, noting the masthead: Primal Times, that annoyingly unbiased media from Horn Kingdom.

    His eyes skimmed the headline, then froze. He read it again, certain he must be mistaken. But there it was, in bold ck letters: "Lord of the Rings Box Office Smashes Records: 7 Million Dors in One Day!"

    Ashen felt the blood drain from his face. "Seven... seven million?" he stammered, his usualposure shattered.

    Whitney nodded grimly.

    "But... but that''s impossible!" Ashen sputtered, his mind racing. "How could they pull those numbers with only two thousand theaters? It must be a mistake. Or a lie."

    Even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was wishful thinking. Primal Times had a sterling reputation for uracy. They wouldn''t risk it on a false story.

    Ashen slumped in his chair, the implications hitting him like a ton of bricks. They''d underestimated Arthur Morningstar. Again.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    I leaned back in my chair, eyes fixed on theputer research spread across my desk. We were close, I could feel it. The first prototype was just within reach.

    If we could get our first prototypeputer working, maybe we could showcase it at the Electronics Expo in Empirica''s Apple City. It was still a few months out - plenty of time to sign up and secure a booth. The possibilities made my head spin.

    But as exciting as the future was, the present demanded my attention. I turned to the box office numbers from our film''s opening day. When I saw the figure - 7 million dors - I swear I could hear my team''s jaws hit the floor.

    "Seven million..." I muttered, a mix of pride and anxiety swirling in my gut. Sure, I was thrilled that the box office was being reported transparently, even on day one. But a part of me couldn''t help wishing it wasn''t tracked so meticulously. Made it a hell of a lot harder to fudge the numberse tax time.

    I shook my head, pushing away the thought.

    Maybe there was a way to... optimize our tax situation. After all, those millionaires and billionaires from my past life had it down to an art form. Surely some of those tricks could work here too.

 Chapter 78: Rings Craze

    <h4>Chapter 78: Rings Craze</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The studio buzzed with excitement as I weed Fart and Kyle.

    Kyle had just flown in yesterday, curious to see how "Lord of the Rings" was performing in the Morningstar Kingdom.

    His eyes were wide with disbelief as he blurted out, "It''s incredible! Seven million in a day with only two thousand cinemas? And without even securing the major theaters? How in the name of all that''s unholy did we pull that off?"

    I couldn''t help but smirk, ncing at Fart to field this one.

    Fart nodded, slipping into exnation mode. "Well, even though we missed out on the major cinemas, the theaters we did secure are no slouches. Most have hundreds of seats, some even pushing two thousand. At two dors a ticket, six screenings a day..." He paused, letting the math sink in. "We could theoretically hit 12 million or more if we packed every house."

    Kyle nodded, still looking dazed. "I get the numbers, but... with all the media bacsh? I thought we were toast."

    "Didn''t I tell you?" I chimed in, unable to resist. "Where there''s sugar, there''s ants. No matter how many people try to convince the ants it''s salt, they''ll figure out the truth eventually."

    Fart and Kyle exchanged a look that screamed, "Here he goes again with the weird metaphors."

    I chuckled, adding, "Besides, people love an underdog, right?"

    Kyle snorted, a hint of worry in his eyes. "Yeah, but you''re the underdog demons love to hate. Aren''t you concerned?"

    I justughed, feeling more confident than ever. The game was far from over, but we''d just scored one hell of a point. Let them hate. As long as they were buying tickets, they could curse my name all they wanted.

    Our conversation was interrupted when Lilith poked her head in. "Boss, there''s someone here to see you."

    "Oh? Who is it?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

    "Says he''s from the Horn Kingdom. Interested in distributing ''Lord of the Rings'' there."

    The Horn Kingdom. Now that was interesting. A small independent kingdom technically under Morningstar rule, but with its own government and economy. They''d been a thorn in my father''s side for years, clinging stubbornly to their autonomy.

    "Send him in," I said, straightening up.

    A fiend demon in a sharp suit strode in, all business. "Jerry Yan, Righteous Film Studio. Pleasure to meet you, Arthur Morningstar."

    I nodded, gesturing to a chair. "Likewise. Please, have a seat." I introduced Fart and Kyle as Jerry settled in.

    "I''ll cut to the chase," Jerry said. "We want ''Lord of the Rings'' distribution rights for the Horn Kingdom."

    ***

    (Apollonia Morningstar POV)

    I pushed my breakfast around my te, half-listening to Bobby''stest tirade. My dear brother was in rare form today, practically frothing at the mouth about Arthur''stest sess.

    But I couldn''t care less about Bobby''s bruised ego. My thoughts were on Arthur, the brother I''d worried about since his exile. I''d expected him to struggle, to fade into obscurity. Instead, he was turning the entertainment world on its head.

    I''d just seen "Lord of the Rings," and I couldn''t get it out of my mind. The story was captivating, but more than that, I found myself wondering about the world Arthur had created. Did rings of power like that really exist somewhere? And how in the world had my "weak" brother managed to wrangle all those orcs into his film? Not to mention that dragon...

    As Bobby continued to rant, I tuned him outpletely. Arthur had always been different, always been underestimated. But now? Now he was proving everyone wrong, and I couldn''t have been prouder.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The "Lord of the Rings" first-day box office sent shockwaves through the public and media alike. Seven million dors was no small feat, leaving those who had bought into the negative press stunned.

    Word spread like wildfire through the Morningstar Kingdom. Contrary to the scathing reviews, "Lord of the Rings" wasn''t just good - it was great. Viewers raved about the visuals, the story, and the overall quality of the film.

    This grassroots praise catapulted the second-day earnings to a staggering 8.1 million dors. In just 48 hours, "Lord of the Rings" had amassed 15.1 million dors - a feat many had deemed impossible.

    The ripples of this sess spread far beyond the Morningstar Kingdom. Major countries like Empirica and Wales found themselves ck-jawed at the numbers. The elven kingdoms, whose entertainment industry stood toe-to-toe with humans, reacted with simr astonishment.

    Even the Craft Kingdom, the dwarven realm second only to humans and elves in entertainment (but unrivaled in sculpting and architecture), took notice of the 15.1 million dor earnings.

    Despite the smear campaign by major outlets worldwide, news of the film''s financial triumph contradicted their narrative. The global audience, initially dismissive of "Lord of the Rings," now burned with curiosity. What was this film that could defy such odds and capture the hearts of millions?

    In the meantime, as "Lord of the Rings" fever swept through the Morningstar Kingdom, spection began to spread like wildfire. In one high school cafeteria, a group of young demons huddled together, their voices low:

    "Hey, guys," Oliver, a young wolf demon, leaned in conspiratorially. "Do you all believe in Teacher Envy? About those rings from ''Lord of the Rings'' actually existing somewhere in our world?"

    Kong, a monkey demon, and Croko, a scale demon, exchanged skeptical nces.

    They remembered their history teacher''s passionate ramblings about the film''s connections to ancient artifacts.

    Kong scratched his fur, scoffing. "Come on, Ollie. Envy was probably just trying to make his boring history lessons more interesting. You know how he gets."

    Croko nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I mean, Sauron? A dark lord with a magic ring? That''s straight out of a fiction."

    But Oliver''s eyes gleamed with excitement. "That''s what I thought too, but check this out." He reached into his bag, pulling out a worn, leather-bound book. "I found this in the school library."

    "What''s that supposed to be?" Kong asked, eyeing the book suspiciously.

    Oliver grinned, his tail wagging slightly. "This, my friends, is proof. It talks about ancient rings from the past, just as powerful as the ones in ''Lord of the Rings''!"

    "Really?" Croko''s scales bristled with interest.

    "Really," Oliver nodded, his tail swishing excitedly. "It said that in ancient times, there were rings that could hold a ton of stuff inside them. And that''s not all - they gave the wearer crazy magical powers and made them super strong!"

    Croko and Kong leaned in, their skepticism melting away. They snatched the book, flipping through the pages eagerly. Oliver pointed out the passages, and sure enough, there they were - rings of unimaginable power.

    As they pored over the ancient text, Kong suddenly jumped up, his fur standing on end. "Guys, I''ve got an idea."

    "What kind of idea?" Croko asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Kong grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "An operation. We''ll call it the Lord of the Rings Operation! We''ll go on a hunt for these ancient artifacts. Just think - if we find them, we''ll be so powerful we won''t even need school anymore!"

    "I''m in!" Oliver howled, barely containing his excitement.

    It wasn''t just high school demons getting caught up in the ring frenzy. Adults across the kingdom had started their own treasure hunts, seeking the powerful artifacts depicted in "Lord of the Rings."

    Days slipped by, and what had started as a small spark of curiosity was slowly but surely growing into a wildfire. Newspapers began featuring stories of demons convinced that the rings from the film existed somewhere in their world.

    In the royal castle, the Royal Information Minister approached the throne, a newspaper clutched in his trembling hand.

    Luke Morningstar, King of the demon realm, fixed the minister with a cold stare as he epted the paper.

    "My king," the minister began, his voice quavering, "this ''Lord of the Rings'' film is causing unrest in our kingdom. The mastermind behind all of this is none other than the former prince, Arthur. It must be intentional, a form of revenge for his exile."

    Luke''s eyes scanned the newspaper, his expression hardening. The headlines screamed of a new obsession sweeping the kingdom - demons young and old alike searching for magical rings. But it was the next part that made the king''s blood run cold.

    The article highlighted a crucial scene from the film where Boromir addressed Arthur''s character, Aragorn, as "king." The article writer spected that this was Arthur''s way of announcing his intention to im the throne in the future.

    Luke leaned back, his mind reeling. Could it be possible? His useless son, the one he''d cast aside, now boldly dering his ambition for the crown? The king''s fingers tightened on the newspaper, crumpling its edges.

 Chapter 79: The Mobâ€™s Dream

    <h4>Chapter 79: The Mob''s Dream</h4>

    (Anubis meworth POV)

    Five days. That''s all it took for the exiled prince''s "Lord of the Rings" to turn the kingdom on its head.

    The numbers were staggering - 31 million dors in just five days, blowing "The Demonfather''s" sess clean out of the water. Even for a hardened mob boss like me, those figures made my eyes bulge.

    I couldn''t help but feel a twinge of pride. After all, I''d lent a hand when the prince set up his talent agency. But Arthur and I both knew my help wasn''t charity. We had an agreement - a favor for a favor. What I wanted wasn''t outrageous, just a little boost in the entertainment world.

    As my driver pulled up to Hellfire Studios, I straightened my tie. "We''re here, boss," he announced.

    I nodded, stepping out with my two men nking me. The receptionist greeted us with a stic smile. "I''m here to see Mr. Morningstar," I said smoothly.

    "Do you have an appointment?" she chirped.

    "Indeed I do. The prince and I have a little chat scheduled."

    After confirming, she led us to Arthur''s office, but stopped my men short. "I''m afraid only you have clearance, sir."

    I waved off my guys'' frowns. "It''s fine, boys. Wait here."

    Stepping into Arthur''s office was like entering another world. Posters stered the walls - "Lord of the Rings" dominated one wall, but what caught my eye was this weird drawing with spiky hair.

    It reminded me of something I''d seen in Empirica, this new thing they call ics." They''re growing in poprity over there - colored drawings telling a story, starting to give novels a run for their money.

    Interesting stuff, though not really my taste. But the "Demonfather" poster? Now that was my absolute favorite.

    And there he was, ex-prince Arthur. A chill ran down my spine as I took him in - his posture, his expression, those eyes that seemed both indifferent and intensely emotional at once. It was like looking at Michael Corleone in the flesh.

    He sat there like he owned the world - and maybe he did. After watching "Lord of the Rings," I couldn''t shake the feeling that Arthur was sitting on a throne, not just an office chair. The ambition to be king someday radiated off him like heat from a furnace.

    Even as a seasoned mob boss, I felt a twinge of difort, a flicker of fear. But I couldn''t show weakness. Squaring my shoulders, I approached. "How are you doing, Mr. Morningstar?"

    Arthur''s smile was warm, but his eyes remained calcting. "Everything''s fine, Mr. meworth," he replied smoothly. With a gesture, he added, "Why don''t you have a seat?"

    I nodded, settling into the chair across from him. Time to get down to business. "As I mentioned two weeks ago, I''m a huge fan of ''The Demonfather.'' I''ve lost count of how many times I''ve rewatched it."

    "Yes," Arthur''s smile widened a fraction. "And you expressed interest in being part of the sequel, correct?"

    I nodded eagerly, leaning forward. "That''s right. Ever since you mentioned a part two, it''s all I can think about. It''s why I helped with your talent agency." I paused, then asked the question that had been burning in my mind. "So, when do you n to start filming the sequel?"

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    I let Anubis''s question hang in the air, taking a moment to sip my tea. Truth be told, "The Demonfather Part 2" was far from my immediate ns. I had my sights set on opening manga stores across the kingdom, maybe starting a recordbel. And my next film? That would be "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly."

    But I couldn''t tell Anubis that. Instead, I channeled my inner Michael Corleone, projecting that "final boss" aura. Yet I knew that act alone wouldn''t be enough to keep a mob boss like Anubis on his toes.

    So I reached for my ace in the hole - {Heartstring}.

    This skill, meant for directing actors, was about to serve a very different purpose. There were no cameras, no mics, no crew around us. Just two actors. No, that wasn''t quite right. One actor and one director.

    Anubis was my unwitting performer, and I was the puppet master pulling his emotional strings.

    I''d used {Heartstring} on him before, during our first meeting. The revtion that I could wield this power outside of film projects had caught me off guard then. Now, I felt more in control, less nervous about sharing space with a notorious mob boss.

    But the limits of {Heartstrings} were still a mystery to me. Cockiness could be my downfall, so I treaded carefully, weighing each word like a jeweler examining precious stones.

    After a full minute of contemtion, I finally spoke. "Mr. meworth, let me ask you something." I paused, letting the tension build. "Would you prefer an unripe cherry, snatched too soon by an impatient farmer, or a perfectly ripe one, thoughtfully picked by a patient hand?"

    Confusion clouded Anubis''s face. My penchant for odd metaphors was clearly throwing him for a loop.

    "I... I suppose I''d choose the ripe cherry from the patient farmer," he replied, uncertaintycing his words.

    A calm smile yed on my lips. "So you''d rather wait patiently for something good than rush into something subpar?"

    Anubis nodded slowly, then furrowed his brow. "No offense, Mr. Morningstar, but... what exactly does this have to do with the Demonfather sequel? I''m not seeing the connection."

    I took a deliberate sip of tea, savoring the moment. "It''s quite simple, really. To create a truly great film, we must exercise patience. Rush the process, and we risk producing something... less than satisfactory."

    Understanding dawned in Anubis''s eyes. My message had finally hit home.

    "So, regarding the Demonfather sequel," I said, leaning forward slightly, "it''s going to take time to n everything out properly. Rush it, and we risk a subpar product." I paused, letting my words sink in. "I understand your eagerness, Mr. meworth, and I intend to honor our agreement. You''ll have your role when the timees. But the question is: will you be the impatient farmer, or the patient one?"

    Anubis fell silent, clearly mulling over my words.

    "If you insist on starting now, we can," I continued, my tone measured. "It''s the least I can do to repay your help. But I can''t guarantee it''ll be the ripe cherry we both want it to be."

    After a long moment, Anubis let out a disappointed sigh. "I understand, Mr. Morningstar," he said, his voice heavy with reluctant eptance. "I''ll choose to wait. Wait for you to get everything just right."

    I smiled, genuine gratitude in my expression. "That''s a wise decision, Mr. meworth," I said, inwardly relieved. "Give me time, and I promise, when I contact you about the Demonfather sequel, it''ll be worth the wait."

    "I''ll hold you to that," Anubis nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Morningstar. I hope I haven''t taken up too much of it."

    "Not at all," I assured him, still smiling. I could feel the {Heartstrings} effect lingering, a testament to my careful handling of the situation.

    Whether a careless response would have shattered the spell remained a mystery, but I was d I hadn''t had to find out.

    As Anubis and his men disappeared down the hallway, I slumped back in my chair, exhaling deeply. "Thank hell that''s over," I muttered, ncing at my watch. Dealing with mob bosses was not how I''d nned to spend my morning.

    But before I could even think about rxing, Lilith poked her head through the door. "Boss, there''s someone here to see you. It''s the head of Demonic Talent Agency!"

    I frowned, my mind racing. Demonic Talent Agency? Firfel and Shafel''s old outfit? What could they want? Were they here toin now that their former stars had skyrocketed to fame with "Lord of the Rings"?

    ***

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 Chapter 80: Reshaping the industry

    <h4>Chapter 80: Reshaping the industry</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Five days after its Morningstar Kingdom debut, "Lord of the Rings" hit Empirican screens. Bryan Brothers, under intense pressure from major studios, had only managed to secure 2,874 cinemas - a far cry from the 4,720 they''d hoped for. The key cinemas remained frustratingly out of reach.

    Bryan Brothers was itching to screen the film as widely as possible after seeing its ridiculous earnings in the Morningstar Kingdom alone. Empirican theaters dwarfed their Morningstar counterparts in size and service quality. But with Titan Pictures and other major studios pulling out all the stops to suppress the film, their hands were tied.

    Meanwhile, back in the Morningstar Kingdom, the heads of major demon studios had gathered for a private screening of "Lord of the Rings." Much as they hated to admit it, they were impressed. But old habits die hard, and they couldn''t resist picking apart what they''d seen.

    Ashen leaned back, a hint of admiration in his voice. "It''s incredible. I don''t know how the ex-prince pulled it off, but those orc actors... And the original soundtrack? Unforgettable. Not to mention his filming techniques. There''s a lot to unpack there."

    Old Rus Key, the monkey demon who owned Monk Entertainment, nodded along. "But what really got me was that Balrog and the dragon. How in the nine hells did the exiled one manage that?"

    Ricky Brawl, the bull demon behind Demonic Entertainment, let out a deep chuckle. "Old Rus, you''re behind the times." He pulled a newspaper from his coat. "Take a gander at this."

    Rus adjusted his sses, squinting at the headline: "Exiled Prince''s Ambitious Studio Behind Lord of the Rings'' Breathtaking Landscapes!"

    As Rus read on, his eyes widened. The article detailed Arthur''s "Hellfire VFX Studio," equipped with illusion artifacts and other pricey magical gadgets to create lifelike backgrounds.

    "VFX Studio?" Rus muttered, confusion clear in his voice. "What in zes does that mean?"

    Dizzy Flu, owner of District Films, jumped in. "Read the whole thing, Rus. The ex-prince built himself a special effects studio. Calls it Hellfire VFX Studio. It can manipte backgrounds through illusions. Word is, he sunk millions into the thing."

    Ashen nodded grimly. "And let''s not forget, just to keep that VFX Studio running, the ex-prince is burning through thousands of dors a day."

    The room fell silent as the implications sank in. Old Rus broke the tension, his voice a mix of frustration and awe. "I hate this Arthur. He''s reshaping our industry right under our noses. After ''Lord of the Rings,'' people won''t settle for just any pictures anymore!"

    His words sparked a debate. Some nodded in agreement, while others scoffed, thinking Rus was giving the film too much credit.

    Ricky mmed his fist on the table. "That''s why we need our own VFX Studio!"

    "But the cost..." Dizzy hesitated, his voice trailing off.

    "Look at the profits rolling in from ''Lord of the Rings''!" Ricky countered. "We''re talking millions here!"

    Greed glinted in Ashen''s eyes. "Sure, it''ll cost millions upfront, but think of the potential returns."

    Old Rus cautiously interjected. "It''s not that simple. We can''t just conjure up millions like Arthur did."

    "Of course not," Ricky agreed. "That''s why we pool our resources. Each of us contributes to build a shared VFX Studio."

    The promise of profits was tempting, but the idea of sharing both costs and rewards didn''t sit well with everyone.

    They discussed the idea, but soon many of them began to disagree.

    Dizzy was the first to bail. "I''m out. I don''t like Demon Pictures and Demonic Entertainment having more control."

    "Count me out too," mumbled Daemon Spirit, breaking his usual silence.

    "Same here," Old Rus chimed in.

    As the studio heads bickered, across town, another drama was unfolding.

    The agencies that had sold their stars to Hellfire Agency were now eating crow.

    Demonic Talent Agency and Devil Contracts, former homes to Firfel, Shafel, and Rupert Darkme, were practically begging Arthur to sell the actors back.

    But Arthur stood firm, turning them away at every turn. All they could do was watch, filled with regret, as "Lord of the Rings" soared in poprity, catapulting their former stars to new heights of fame.

    ***

    Despite the drama swirling through the Morningstar Kingdom''s entertainment industry, "Lord of the Rings" continued its meteoric rise.

    In Empirica, the film raked in a staggering 10 million dors on its opening day alone. The entertainment moguls could only grit their teeth, their eyes glinting with a mixture of greed and regret. But even as they coveted the film''s sess, they couldn''t deny the seismic shift happening before them. The picture industry was entering a new era, and the architect of this change was none other than Arthur Morningstar, the exiled prince they''d all underestimated.

    The world was embracing this change as "Lord of the Rings" conquered box offices far beyond Morningstar and Empirica. In the Moonlight Kingdom, the film''s first-day earnings hit a jaw-dropping 8.4 million dors, even under the intense pressure from Titan Pictures in the Evros Continent.

    Major studios across kingdoms and countries, salivating over the film''s profits, began a frenzied race to acquire distribution rights. Representatives flocked to Arthur, each trying to outbid the other. Some returned home triumphant, rights secured, while others left empty-handed, nursing wounded pride and emptier pockets.

    As days slipped by, "Lord of the Rings" made its debut in the Horn Kingdom. Demons lined up in droves, eager to experience the film that had set the world aze.

    In the capital of Horn Kingdom, the streets bustled with activity as people flocked to theaters, eager to catch the much-hyped film. Among the crowd, a couple made their way towards the cinema.

    "Is this film you''ve been going on about really worth all the fuss?" Lee Jun-fan asked his girlfriend, Linda, skepticism evident in his voice.

    Linda''s eyes sparkled with excitement as she held up two tickets. "Trust me, Lee. My uncle works for Righteous Film Studio, and you know he never talks about movies. But when he came back from seeing this one, he couldn''t stop raving about it. He even gave us these tickets, see?"

    Lee shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, still looking unconvinced. "I don''t know. I read in the papers that it''s so bad it''s funny. That''s why it''s doing well at the box office."

    Linda shook her head, exasperation creeping into her voice. "Don''t believe everything you read, Lee. It''s obvious those stories are just hit pieces. People don''t buy tickets for bad films, even if they''re unintentionally funny."

    "If you say so," Lee shrugged, his tone nomittal.

    Linda pouted, nudging him yfully. "I know you''re only interested in martial arts films, but give this a chance. Trust me on this one, okay?"

    "Alright, alright," Lee conceded with a small smile. "We''ll watch the film."

    As they joined the queue, Lee couldn''t help but reflect on Linda''s words. She was right ¨C he had always been obsessed with martial arts films. Like many children growing up in Horn, Morningstar, or even Thorne, he''d been raised on a steady diet of high-flying kicks and dramatic fight scenes. It was no wonder he dreamed of bing an actor and starring in his own martial arts epic.

    But as he looked around at the excited faces in line, Lee was reminded of the harsh reality. For most young adults, that dream was just that ¨C a dream. Unlike Bobby Morningstar, who could throw money at vanity projects, the average person couldn''t afford to finance their own martial arts blockbuster.

 Chapter 81: Rising Star Imkrag

    <h4>Chapter 81: Rising Star Imkrag</h4>

    (Imkrag POV)

    Since "Lord of the Rings" took off, my family couldn''t stop gushing about me. I''d often overhear my mother bragging to the neighbors, "My son''s a star now! Go watch ''Lord of the Rings,'' he''s starring as Gollum!"

    But the neighbors would always reply, "Lord of the Rings? We haven''t seen it yet. It''s so expensive - two whole dors!"

    Living in the outskirts of Fend City, few could afford to go to the cinema, let alone watch "Lord of the Rings."

    One day, my imp mother, Is, burst through our rickety door, frustration etched on her face. "I can''t believe it, Imkrag! It''s been two weeks since your film hit the cinemas, and still no one in the neighborhood recognizes you!"

    She slumped into a chair, pouring herself a cup of coffee with a huff.

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Mom, you have to understand. In this whole neighborhood, we''re probably the only ones who''ve actually seen the film."

    "He''s right, darling," my dwarf father, Imkre, chimed in from behind his newspaper. "Two dors is still a big deal around here. If it weren''t for our precious Imkrag, we wouldn''t be able to watch films, eat properly, or even buy a newspaper." He waved the paper for emphasis.

    Is pouted, then sighed. "I suppose you''re right..." Her eyes softened as she looked at me. "My little baby''s a star now. He can buy us food."

    I couldn''t help but smile at them. Just then, the door flew open again as my little sister, Ruru, burst in. "Brother! There''s a demon outside who wants to meet you. Says he knows you and has a job offer!"

    I raised an eyebrow. "A job? But I don''t need¡ª" I trailed off, spotting a behemoth of a demon outside our tiny house. If he tried to enter, the ce might crumble to pieces.

    Stepping outside, I recognized him immediately. "Ringmaster Kelly!"

    Kelly, the circus owner who''d kicked me out before, smiled warmly. "Oh, here you are, dear Imkrag."

    "W-what do you want from me, Ringmaster?" I stammered, intimidated by his towering presence.

    My family hung back, probably terrified of being squashed.

    Kelly bent down, still looming over me. "Oh, you look pretty silly now, dear. I''m here to offer you your job back at the circus. Don''t you want it?"

    I was stunned. What had caused this change of heart? Kelly wouldn''t have set foot in our neighborhood before.

    "I-I''m sorry, Ringmaster. But I already have a job," I managed to say.

    Kelly''s smile faltered. "You''re... declining my kind offer?"

    I gulped as he continued, "Look, I can even offer you five hundred dors a month! Don''t you want it?"

    Five hundred dors was significant, but... "I''m sorry," I said again. "I have to decline."

    Kelly''s face darkened. "You''re really rejecting my kind offer? After I was gracious enough to visit you here?"

    I stayed silent, stepping back as my family trembled.

    "Boys," Kelly growled, his facade of kindness evaporating, "give this imp, or dwarf, or whatever he is, a lesson!"

    A group of imps emerged from behind Kelly, their eyes gleaming with malice. I recognized them immediately as the circus thugs.

    "I''m giving you onest chance, Imkrag," Kelly said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. He tossed a paper at my feet. "There''s the contract. Sign it now, or..." He gestured to the imps, letting the threat hang in the air.

    I gritted my teeth, aware of the pressure Kelly was putting on me. The contracty there, a few inches from my toes, like a venomous snake waiting to strike.

    Suddenly, a cold voice cut through the tension. "What do you think you demons are doing?"

    We all turned to see a young demon in an expensive suit striding towards us.

    "Boss Arthur!" I eximed, relief washing over me.

    Kelly fell silent, eyeing Arthur warily.

    "Are you bullying my talent here?" Arthur asked, his gaze fixed on Kelly, eyes cold as ice.

    Kelly puffed up his chest, trying to look brave. "So what if I am?"

    "You seem quite confident," Arthur said, his voice dangerously calm. "You think you can handle me?"

    Despite his size, Kelly flinched. But he quickly recovered, gesturing to his imp thugs. "I have my men here. You''re alone. What can you do?"

    Arthur chuckled, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "You think you guys are enough?"

    Kelly looked smug, clearly underestimating my boss. But his expression quickly changed as Arthur summoned a swirling fireball above his palm.

    "Now," Arthur said, his voice casual as if discussing the weather, "you think you can take this fireball? Or maybe it''s too small for a behemoth demon like yourself?"

    Our eyes bulged as Arthur increased the size of his fireball. Even Ringmaster Kelly took a step back. The imp thugs gulped, the pressure too much for them to handle.

    Kelly gritted his teeth, shooting me onest re. "Hmph, you may have be famous, but I don''t need someone like you at the circus anyway." With that, he turned and stormed off, his thugs scurrying after him.

    I let out a sigh of relief as Kelly and his thugs disappeared from view. Turning to Boss Arthur, who had just extinguished his fireball, I noticed his eyes scanning our humble abode.

    "Imkrag," he said, his tone a mix of concern and amusement, "you''ve got quite a fragile home here."

    Following his gaze, my eyes widened. Our little house looked like it might copse at any moment, the walls seemingly weakened just from the pressure of Arthur''s magical disy. My family huddled together in the corner, still shaken from the confrontation.

    "Boss," I stammered, curiosity oveing my shock, "what brings you all the way out here?"

    Arthur''s lips curved into a smile as he turned back to me. "Well, I was recently informed that you''re living in these outskirts. After finding that out, I feltpelled to take action. I can''t have my star talent living in a dangerous area, can I?" He paused, letting his words sink in. "So, I''ve taken the liberty of purchasing a house for you closer to the agency."

    Warmth spread through my chest at his words. "That''s incredibly generous, Boss. I was actually saving up to move out, but you really didn''t need to go to such lengths."

    "Nonsense," Arthur waved off my protests, slipping his hands into his pockets with an air of nonchnce that somehow made him look even cooler. "Besides, that''s not the only reason I''m here. You''ve received several project offers, Imkrag. I came to inform you personally and let you know it''s up to you to choose which ones you want to take on. We''re talking thousands of dors here, maybe more. And I think I can negotiate even better pay for you."

    At the mention of "jobs" and "thousands of dors," I saw my family perk up, hope recing the fear on their faces.

    "Really?" I asked, still processing the sudden turn of events. "That''s... that''s incredible, Boss. I don''t know what to say."

    Arthur''s smile widened. "You don''t need to say anything, Imkrag. Your performance in ''Lord of the Rings'' speaks for itself. Now, what do you say we discuss these offers over a cup of coffee? I hear your mother brews an excellent cup."

    At Arthur''s mention of her coffee, my mother Is''s face lit up with pride. "Oh, you''re too kind, sir! I''d be delighted to brew you a cup of my finest blend."

    I felt a warmth spread through my chest at my boss''s ttery. We were about to usher Arthur inside when a worrying creak from the walls reminded us of our home''s fragile state.

    Arthur, ever the quick thinker, smoothly changed ns. "Why don''t we continue this at Imkrag''s new home? Lady Is, perhaps you could bring your famous coffee there?"

    My family''s eyes widened with excitement, nodding eagerly at the suggestion.

    As we made our way to the house Arthur had bought, I fell into step beside him, my mind buzzing with questions about the new projects he''d mentioned. The walk felt both endless and too short, anticipation building with each step.

    Finally, we arrived. The house before us might have looked modest by some standards, but to my family and me, it was nothing short of a pce. We rushed inside, unable to contain our excitement, wide grins stered across our faces.

    "This... this is really ours?" I heard my father whisper in awe, running his hand along a smooth wall.

    My little sister Ruru darted from room to room, squealing with delight. "Look! Real windows! And the floor doesn''t creak!"

    As I watched my family explore our new home, tears of joy pricking at my eyes, I turned to Arthur. "Boss, I... I don''t know how to thank you."

    Arthur just smiled, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Your talent and hard work earned this, Imkrag. Now, how about that coffee?"

    In that moment, surrounded by my overjoyed family in our new home, with the promise of a bright future ahead, I felt like the luckiest demon in all the realms. Who would have thought that ying a creepy, ring-obsessed creature would lead to all this?

 Chapter 82: The idea of Theme Parks

    <h4>Chapter 82: The idea of Theme Parks</h4>

    (William Bryan POV)

    The performance of "Lord of the Rings" in just one week here in Empirica was nothing short of... well, to be honest, I''m at a loss for words. Speechless doesn''t even begin to cover it.

    Every time the box office numbers came in, I felt like I was in a dream. The film had raked in 74 million dors in Empirica alone. Such figures were once thought impossible in our industry. Even the major Empirican or elven studios wouldn''t have dared to hope for such astronomical earnings, no matter how good their films were.

    And yet, here we are. A film making that kind of money... and not just any film. Not a human production, not an elven masterpiece, but a demon studio''s creation. Or more specifically, the work of Arthur Morningstar - a young demon not even 18 years old, amassing generational wealth that other industry giants could only dream of.

    My musings were interrupted as Daniel, my brother, burst into the office unannounced. "William, I''ve scheduled a meeting with Mr. Morningstar back in the Morningstar Kingdom."

    I nodded, my face serious. "Good. Make sure we have all the business proposals we''ve been working on ready."

    Daniel hesitated, his brow furrowing. "I don''t mean to be rude, William, but... do you really think this proposal will be profitable at all?"

    "I''m sure of it," I replied, a confident smile ying on my lips. "Didn''t you see how much we made from ''Lord of the Rings''?"

    Daniel shrugged. "Yeah, we made a lot on the film, but our proposal for... amusement parks is a different story." He added, "We could lose a lot of money on this."

    I smiled again. I had been working on the amusement park proposal for days, but I knew it was more than just a park. "Trust me. It''s going to make us a fortune. After all, these parks are based on ''Lord of the Rings.''"

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    While the Bryan Brothers were busy hatching their ns, little did they know that Arthur had already beaten them to the punch.

    The locations used to film "Lord of the Rings" in the Green Forest hadn''t just been left to gather dust. For weeks, even as the film first hit screens, construction had been underway. The iconic tower from the movie wasn''t just a set piece anymore - it was bing a reality.

    Arthur had been funneling the box office earnings from "Lord of the Rings" straight into what he called the "Hellfire Theme Parks" project. Talk about striking while the iron was hot.

    So when the Bryan Brothers finally sat down with Arthur at a posh restaurant in Fend two dayster, they were in for quite a shock.

    "Amusement parks based on Lord of the Rings?" Arthur mused, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I don''t mean to rain on your parade, gentlemen, but Hellfire Studios has been working on that for a while now. Our first park is already under construction in the Green Forest."

    William''s jaw nearly hit the floor. "You... you''re telling us you had this idea before the film even blew up?"

    Arthur''s smile was enigmatic. "You could say that. In fact, we''re in the final stages of construction."

    The Bryan Brothers exchanged skeptical nces. Surely, Arthur was bluffing, trying to steal their brilliant idea.

    Daniel, ever the pragmatist, decided to call Arthur''s bluff. "Would it be possible for us to take a look at this park, Mr. Morningstar?"

    "Of course," Arthur replied without missing a beat. "We can head there now. It''s just a few hours away by car."

    The brothers agreed, still convinced they were about to expose Arthur''s lie.

    A few hourster, however, they found themselves standing ck-jawed in front of a meticulously constructed Shire. The rolling hills, the round doors of hobbit holes, the Party Tree - it was all there, as if plucked straight from the film and made real.

    William turned to Arthur, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. "This is... incredible. How did you manage to keep this under wraps?"

    Before Arthur could answer, a group of orcs came into view, strolling through the Shire. The moment they spotted Arthur, they rushed towards him with an eagerness that caught the Bryan Brothers off guard.

    "Boss!" one of the orcs called out, his gravelly voice tinged with excitement. "We''ve been cooped up here for ages! When are we gonna hit the big time? You promised people would start seein'' us as more than just savages, right?"

    The Bryan Brothers watched, ck-jawed, as Arthur addressed the orcs with a calm smile. "Soon, my friends. Very soon. Before you know it, people will be flocking here to meet you. You''ll be the stars of the show."

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    As I watched the orcs'' eager faces, a pang of guilt twisted in my gut. I couldn''t shake the feeling that I was some kind of viin, trapping innocent creatures in an borate zoo.

    The truth was, from the very beginning, I''d had bigger ns for these orcs than just casting them in "Lord of the Rings." They were always meant to be the mascots of the Hellfire Theme Park. Living, breathing mascots.

    Except they were real. I hoped these orcs would be satisfied entertaining the theme park visitors, weing customers with warm smiles on their faces.

    I turned to the Bryan Brothers, gesturing towards the gradually rising walls. "What do you think? There''s the entrance, and look, the Hellfire Theme Park sign is almostplete."

    The Bryan Brothers stood there, speechless and... was that disappointment I saw in their eyes? I could understand their reaction. After all, they''de here with a proposal for something very simr.

    "Hellfire Theme Park?" Daniel finally spoke, his voice a mix of curiosity and surprise. "So you call this a ''Theme Park''?"

    I nodded, aware that the term was novel in this world where "Amusement Parks" was still the go-to phrase.

    William seemed to gather his thoughts before speaking. "Mr. Morningstar, we are willing to partner with you on this idea."

    "Partner?" I echoed, my amusement barely concealed. I was curious about what they thought they could bring to the table.

    William, sensing an opportunity, pressed on. "We have extensive reach, Mr. Morningstar. We can market this theme park of yours, and..." He paused, seemingly finding his footing. "We can construct another theme park in Empirica! Bryan Brothers is willing to cover the cost, and you''ll still be earning a substantial amount!"

    I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. The idea of expanding into Empirica was tempting, I had to admit. But I wasn''t about to show my hand just yet.

    "An interesting proposition, gentlemen," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "But tell me, what makes you think Hellfire Studios needs partners for this venture? We''ve managed quite well on our own so far."

    The challenge in my voice was clear, but so was the hint of interest. I wanted to see how they''d respond, what else they might offer.

 Chapter 83: Hellfire Theme Park opening

    <h4>Chapter 83: Hellfire Theme Park opening</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The Bryan Brothers exchanged knowing nces before William spoke up, his tone carefully measured. "You''ll still need us, Mr. Morningstar. After all, from what we know, your studio has quite a few... shall we say, adversaries."

    Daniel nodded, eager to support his brother''s point. "Indeed. It''ll be quite the challenge for you to break through the promotional barriers with so many media outlets gunning for you."

    I tapped my chin, feigning amusement. But deep down, I knew they had a point. The mediandscape was a minefield, and having allies could make all the difference.

    "You gentlemen make a fair argument," I conceded, my voice carefully neutral. "But can the Bryan Brothers truly handle those who oppose me?"

    William and Daniel''s faces lit up with confident smiles. "Of course we can," William assured me.

    Daniel chimed in, "We have our own media outlets and connections with several major ones in other countries and kingdoms."

    "Hmm..." I made a show of considering their offer, watching as anxiety crept into their expressions. Little did they know, I was subtly employing my {Heartstrings} skill, giving me an edge in these delicate negotiations.

    "Let''s discuss this further," I said finally, and I could practically feel their relief.

    ***

    After several days of intense negotiations - during which my {Heartstrings} skill proved invaluable - I managed to secure a deal with the Bryan Brothers that was more favorable than I''d initially hoped.

    Not to be left out, the Lava Brothers also threw their hat into the ring, eager to be part of the theme park venture. Their involvement could prove particrly useful, given their ownership of media outlets like "LB News" and "Lava Headlines," not to mention their connections to the "Powerful Times," a major outlet in the Morningstar Kingdom.

    Though "Powerful Times" was based in the Horn Kingdom and rankedst among major newspaper publishers, it still wielded considerable influence. Having them on our side could be a pivotal advantage.

    As I signed the final documents, I couldn''t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The theme park was no longer just a dream - it was bing a reality, and with these new partnerships, its potential seemed limitless.

    Of course, I knew better than to let my guard downpletely. In this world of magic and media, alliances could shift as quickly as the wind. But for now, I allowed myself a small smile. The next phase of the Hellfire empire was about to begin.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    About five weeks after "Lord of the Rings" first hit theaters, its box office had skyrocketed to a staggering 290 million dors globally and domesticallybined. The hype for the film was at fever pitch.

    It had already surpassed the months-long box office run of "The Demonfather" - and "Lord of the Rings" was far from done, still going strong just five weeks into its screening.

    Around this time, Arthur''s first theme park, the "Hellfire Theme Park," finallypleted construction.

    As soon as it was finished, newspapers like "LB News," "Powerful Times," and the Bryan Brothers'' "The Angelic Times" began churning out stories about the "Hellfire Theme Park."

    Though it wasn''t yet open to the public, Arthur and his partners were determined to strike while the iron was hot, promoting the park aggressively.

    The news spread like wildfire among "Lord of the Rings" fans, eliciting a variety of reactions.

    At a bustling news stand, a demon couple perused thetest headlines.

    "Hellfire Theme Park? What in the nine hells is that supposed to mean?" Rook, a fiend demon, scratched his horns in confusion.

    His girlfriend, Liza, rolled her eyes. "Can''t you read?" She jabbed a finger at the newspaper. "It says it''s like an amusement park with Lord of the Rings fictional ces."

    Rook''s brow furrowed. "Oh... So this Shire actually exists in this Hellfire Theme Park?"

    Liza nodded, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice. "Seems like it."

    Their conversation caught the attention of nearby demons, who quickly snatched up their own copies of the newspaper, eager to learn more about this amusement park.

    At news stands across the city, word of the Hellfire Theme Park spread like a contagious spell. A group of half-dwarves, half-humans were particrly enthused.

    "Oh! I can''t wait to see the Shire for myself!" one eximed, practically bouncing with excitement.

    As half-humans and half-dwarves, they felt a special connection to the Shire and its inhabitants. In fact, thanks to "Lord of the Rings," a new term for people of their heritage had begun to spread. Many who had watched the film started calling them "Hobbits" - a phenomenon further propagated by the newspapers, solidifying this new racial designation.

    As for the elves who chanced upon the news in their kingdoms, their reactions mirrored those of the Hobbits.

    An elven husband turned to his wife. "Honey, let''s book a flight to the Morningstar Kingdom. I want to see Rivendell with my own eyes!"

    In Empirica, humans buzzed with curiosity about the tower of Isengard. A wizard teacher, intrigued by his student''s description of the "Hellfire Theme Park," mused aloud, "I wonder if Saruman still resides in the tower. Wouldn''t mind having a chat with him myself."

    The anticipation wasn''t limited to the Morningstar Kingdom. People worldwide eagerly awaited the grand opening of the "Hellfire Theme Park."

    With the opening date public knowledge, Grass City saw an unprecedented influx of tourists, leaving Lord Antree speechless.

    At first, Antree was merely curious about the surge in visitors. It wasn''t until his assistant, Rim, an imp demon, enlightened him that the reality sank in.

    "City lord," Rim exined, a hint of excitement in his voice, "it seems they''re all here for the opening of the Hellfire Theme Park."

    "Hellfire Theme Park?" Antree''s brow furrowed in confusion.

    Rim pressed on, "My lord, do you recall when ex-prince Arthur purchased that significant plot in Green Forest?"

    "I remember," Antree nodded, recalling how most of the money had gone to the Royal family and government. At the time, he''d thought Arthur a fool for spending so much on seemingly uselessnd.

    "Well..." Rim hesitated, then continued, "It appears the ex-prince had ns to profit from it. The Hellfire Theme Park is built on that verynd. People are flocking here for its grand opening."

    Antree''s eyes widened as the implications sank in. "You mean to tell me... the ex-prince is about to make a fortune from these visitors? They''re not here for Grass City itself?"

    "I''m afraid not, my lord," Rim confirmed. "And that tavern Arthur bought and rebranded as the Prancing Pony? It''s packed to the rafters."

    Antree''s expression turned solemn as he processed this information.

    ***

    As March 31, 1272 dawned, anticipation crackled in the air. The "Hellfire Theme Park" stood poised to open its gates in the lush expanse of Green Forest. Arthur, cutting a striking figure before the entrance, found himself surrounded by a sea of eager faces held at bay by vignt security.

    Excited voices pierced the air. "Aragorn! Please, kiss me like Arwen!" "Aragorn!" The cries of adoration washed over Arthur, but he remained focused on the task at hand.

    With a flourish, he raised an oversized pair of scissors. The crowd held its collective breath as he sliced through the ribbon, officially christening the park. A thunderous cheer erupted, marking the momentous asion.

    Arthur''s voice rang out over the din, amplified by the microphone. "The first Hellfire Theme Park is now open!" His eyes swept over the throng of people, a smile ying at his lips. "And as our inaugural guests, everyone here gets to enter for free!"

    The announcement was met with jubnt cries. "Yeah!" "It was worth the wait!"

    Amidst the celebrating masses, Lord Antree observed the scene, his expression tinged with regret.

    The scale of the event and the fervor of the crowd far exceeded his expectations. If only he had foreseen this, hemented silently, he could have demanded a far higher price for thend.

 Chapter 84: Successful Opening... or was it?

    <h4>Chapter 84: Sessful Opening... or was it?</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I watched in awe as humans, dwarves, and demons swarmed into the Hellfire Theme Park. There must''ve been hundreds of them, but the ce was big enough to swallow them all up.

    I could''ve made a fortune off these folks, at least a few thousand bucks. But I decided to let ''em in for free. The newspaper ads were good and all, but I knew word-of-mouth was where the real magic happened.

    If these people had a st at the Hellfire Theme Park, they''d tell everyone they knew. That kind of organic marketing? You can''t put a price on it.

    For the Shire, I got clever. Hired a bunch of half-human, half-dwarf actors to y "Hobbits".

    Funny thing is, after "Lord of the Rings" blew up, people started calling all half-human, half-dwarves "Hobbits" in real life.

    Over in mini-Isengard, we had orcs running around ying Saruman''s army. The Orthanc Tower wasn''t as tall as in the film, but you could actually go inside and climb to the top. Up there, I had a human actor ying Saruman.

    The guy who yed Saruman in the movie? Way outta my budget now.

    In another corner, we had mini-Rivendell. Elven actors cost an arm and a leg, so I only managed to snag a few to hang around there.

    The Hellfire Theme Park somehow managed to cram all these iconic "Lord of the Rings" ces into one spot.

    It wasn''t easy making everything fit, but we pulled it off by dividing the park into different sections. We didn''t build every little detail - just enough to sell the illusion.

    A bit of Rivendell here, a slice of Isengard there. It might''ve been smaller than in the movie, but it looked real enough to make you feel like you''d stepped right into Middle-earth.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    As visitors entered the Hellfire Theme Park, most had tempered expectations. After all, the newspapers had made it clear that the breathtaking scenes from "Lord of the Rings" were just illusions crafted in the so-called "Hellfire VFX Studio". But as they stepped inside, their eyes widened in surprise.

    Walking into the Shire, they found themselves surrounded by "Hobbits" going about their daily business. The iconic elements of Hobbiton were all there - from the cozy hobbit holes with their round doors to the Party Tree standing tall in the center of the vige.

    While it may not have been as perfect as the film version, the replica was real enough to make visitors feel like they''d stepped onto the set of "Lord of the Rings". It wasn''t just the physical scenery that sold the illusion, but the atmosphere as well.

    The Hobbit actors seemed genuinely ufortable with the throng of visitors invading their peaceful hamlet. This difort, however, only added to the authenticity of the experience. Visitors felt like they were truly intruding on the daily lives of these shy, home-loving creatures.

    This was all part of Arthur''s grand design. He had instructed the actors to behave as real Hobbits would when faced with an unexpected influx of outsiders.

    "Can I have a picture with you, Mr. Hobbit?" a young demon child asked, tugging at her parents'' hands.

    The Hobbit actor furrowed his brow, looking conflicted. "Err... Kid, I''m quite busy, perhaps-"

    "Please?" the little demon monkey pleaded, her eyes wide and hopeful.

    The Hobbit sighed dramatically. "Oh, alright then." His apparent helplessness in the face of the child''s request drewughter from the onlooking crowd.

    Encouraged by this sess, another child piped up, "Me too, Mr. Hobbit!"

    The actor''s face contorted into an exaggerated expression of dilemma, eliciting more chuckles from the gathered visitors.

    As word spread of the Hobbit''s amusing reactions, more and more people mored for pictures, creating aical scene that perfectly captured the essence of the shy, somewhat bewildered Hobbits encountering the outside world.

    Meanwhile, in the mini-Isengard section, the orcs ying Saruman''s army were really getting into their roles. The crowd eyed them with obvious disdain or fear, which didn''t go unnoticed by the actors.

    "Why''re they lookin'' at us like that?" one orc grumbled to his buddy. "Didn''t boss Arthur say we''d be weed with open arms after the film?"

    His friend shook his head. "Nah, you''ve got it all wrong. Look over there." He pointed towards their orc chief.

    They turned to see their leader surrounded by excited visitors, all moring for pictures and autographs.

    "See? People are warming up to us," the second orc said, a hint of pride in his voice.

    Before the orcs could dwell on why they were being avoided, visitors began approaching them for pictures too.

    Gradually, they realized it wasn''t that people disliked them - they just didn''t approve of orcs siding with Saruman or Sauron from "Lord of the Rings".

    An elf even offered some unsolicited advice: "Choose the right side, orc. Evil doesn''t always win, you know. Look at the demons now - they used to be considered evil, but these days they can''t hold a candle to other races."

    The orcs found themselves on the receiving end of impromptu lectures, especially from the elves, leaving them more than a little confused.

    "Where''s Saruman?" a human demanded, interrupting an orc mid-photo with a dwarf. "I want to challenge him to a magic duel!"

    The orcs exchanged bewildered nces, unsure whether to stay in character or break the fourth wall to exin the situation. This wasn''t quite the warm wee they''d been expecting.

    At the top of Orthanc Tower, the human actor ying Saruman stood before a mysterious orb, mic hidden nearby. He intoned gibberish meant to sound like spells, adding to the mystical atmosphere.

    Beneath the orb, concealed from view, a projector disyed scenes from "Lord of the Rings" - specifically, Gandalf andpany battling a snowstorm while crossing the Misty Mountains.

    This sight riled up the visitors, especially a young but burly, bearded dwarf who foolishly believed ''Saruman'' was actually attacking Gandalf.

    "You will not seed, Saruman!" the dwarf bellowed.

    "What are you do-" The actor couldn''t finish his sentence before a fist connected with his face. "Gah!"

    The crowd''s reaction was mixed - some chuckled, others cheered the dwarf on, many feeling a sense of vicarious revenge for Gandalf.

    More level-headed visitors rushed to restrain the dwarf and help the actor to his feet.

    "You... you despicable dwarf!" the actor sputtered, pointing usingly.

    "You deserve it!" the young dwarf shot back. "Attacking Frodo, Gandalf, Aragorn, and Gimli with your snowstorm spell!"

    Themotion drew the attention of the demon managing the mini-Isengard section, who quickly exined to the young dwarf that everything was just for show.

    Red-faced, the dwarf mumbled an embarrassed apology to the actor.

    Simr incidents popped up throughout the Hellfire Theme Park. While the opening was rocky by some standards, it was undeniably a huge sess. Many visitors felt as if they''d stepped right into the world of "Lord of the Rings".

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    As the sun dipped below the horizon and the "Hellfire Theme Park" shut its gates for the night, I found myself buried in a mountain of reports. My financial guy was practically salivating as he rattled off the potential profits we could''ve raked in if we hadn''t gone with the free admission. I couldn''t deny it was a pretty penny, but sometimes you''ve got to spend money to make money, right?

    What really caught my attention, though, were the incident reports. Seems our actors had a rougher day than expected. A bunch of orcs came to me, grumbling about getting punched or nearly barbecued by overzealous visitors throwing fireballs.

    "Boss," one of them said, nursing a bruised arm, "I thought you said we''d be weed with open arms after the film?"

    I winced, feeling a pang of guilt. "I know, I know. Look, I''ll make it right. How about a bonus for your trouble? And don''t worry about the medical bills - I''ve got you covered."

    Their eyes lit up at that, and I couldn''t help but feel they''d earned it, putting up with that mess.

    And the one whoined the most, his pride obviously bruised, was the human actor ying Saruman.

    He stormed into my office, sporting a nasty ck eye. His face was a mess of bruises, and his usually pristine white hair looked like it had been through a windstorm.

    "This is outrageous!" he fumed, gesturing wildly. "I was assaulted! By a dwarf, no less! Do you have any idea-"

    "Whoa, whoa," I held up my hands, trying not to let my amusement show. "Slow down. Start from the beginning."

    As he ranted, I couldn''t help but feel a mix of genuine pity and, well, amusement. I mean, who''d have thought people would be dumb enough to mistake this guy for the actual Saruman? Sure, he had the fake beard and dyed white hair, but he looked nothing like the actor from my film.

    "Look," I said when he finally paused for breath, "I get it. This isn''t what you signed up for. How about we sweeten the deal a bit? A fat bonus, full medical coverage, and a little something extra for your trouble. What do you say?"

    He eyed me suspiciously for a moment before his shoulders slumped. "Fine," he muttered, some of the fight going out of him. "But if this happens again..."

    "It won''t," I assured him, hoping I wasn''t making a promise I couldn''t keep.

    As he left, looking somewhat mollified, I couldn''t help but shake my head. What a day. But you know what? Despite the chaos, the punches thrown, and the singed eyebrows, I couldn''t deny it - we''d pulled it off. The Hellfire Theme Park was officially open for business, and if today was any indication, we were in for one hell of a ride.

 Chapter 85: Incredible skills

    <h4>Chapter 85: Incredible skills</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    A few days have passed since the "Hellfire Theme Park" opened its gates, and the profits are rolling in faster than I can count. Tens of thousands of dors, just like that. The park''s poprity in the Morningstar Kingdom has skyrocketed beyond my wildest dreams.

    Tourists are flocking to Grass City, drawn by the allure of our Middle-earth attractions. The elves, in particr, can''t get enough of our mini-Rivendell. Word''s even reached their media outlets, with headlines screaming about how Rivendell exists in real life. Talk about free advertising - we''ve got elves pouring in by the boatload.

    Of course, I had to make some adjustments after that chaotic opening day. Hired a bunch of behemoth demons as security to keep our actors safe from over-enthusiastic visitors. Yeah, we had to ster the ce with signs saying "Fake Scene," "Fake Spell," and "Fake Blood."

    Might take away from the immersion a bit, but it''s better than having another Saruman incident. Keeps the gullible ones from getting too carried away.

    The sess of ''Lord of the Rings'' has earned me an impressive 24.75 million entertainment points.

    That''s way more than "The Demonfather" ever brought in, which just goes to show how much more popr and impressive "Lord of the Rings" has been.

    The box office numbers back this up. We hit 330 million dors yesterday. The entertainment system''s data breaks it down like this: about 44 million tickets sold in the Morningstar Kingdom at 2 dors a pop. Another 22.5 million tickets went to other countries and kingdoms at the same price.

    In the western countries and kingdoms, where tickets go for 3 dors, we''ve sold about 66.67 million. ording to the {Entertainment System Film Statistics Data}, a total of 132.17 million people have bought tickets and watched the film.

    For each viewer, I earn 0.1 points if they''re casual fans, 0.2 if they love and adore the film, and a sweet 0.3 points for those who arepletely obsessed. With numbers like these, it''s no wonder the points are piling up so fast.

    My total entertainment points from "Lord of the Rings," "The Demonfather," and "Hellfire Theme Park" have hit a whopping 34.40 million. With this kind of points, I could finally snag some of those impressive skills from the {Magical Shop} that''d give my directing a serious boost.

    One skill that caught my eye was "Atmosphere Control," priced at 10 million entertainment points.

    <strong>[Atmosphere Control: Allowed the user to control the area''s atmosphere, adjusting lighting, temperature, and background ambience. (Require mana per use: 20)]</strong>

    <strong>[It can be leveled up with use.]</strong>

    At first nce, it might not seem like much, but the potential is insane. As a director, I could use this to elevate every scene in my films.

    Who knows? If I level it up enough, I might even control the atmosphere of an entire city. Imagine adjusting the temperature, making city folk dance to my tune, turning them into actors under my directorial strings¡ª Whoa. Getting a bit carried away there.

    It''s an ambitious dream, sure, but why not? I went ahead and bought the {Atmosphere Control}.

    Then there was this other skill in the {Skill Shop} called {Cinematic Vision}, worth 5 million entertainment points.

    <strong>[Cinematic Vision: As a director, you can visualize how scenes will appear in the final cut,plete with editing, special effects, and sound design. This foresight allows you to make on-the-spot adjustments to enhance the scene.]</strong>

    I bought that one too. The moment I did, I was hit with a wave of shbacks from filming "The Demonfather" and "Lord of the Rings." After the mental rey, I couldn''t help but shake my head.

    "I didn''t think I could film it like that," I sighed, feeling a twinge of regret. But what''s done is done.

    I''m now down 15 million points.

    After purchasing a skill that cost me 15 million entertainment points, the system unlocked higher-level skills that I can now buy.

    Scrolling through the list, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. There was {Time Rewind}¡ªand yeah, it does exactly what you''d think¡ªfor a cool 100 million points. Then there''s {Voice of Command}, a skill that can order someone against their will, for 30 million points.

    The more I scrolled, the more impressed I got. "I need to gain more points!" I muttered, shifting my focus topleting my firstputer. Probably this world''s first decentputer, at that.

    ***

    (Lucy Morningstar POV)

    I''ve got to hand it to that younger brother of mine, Arthur ¡ª he''s been unexpectedly helpful. The tax revenue from his film alone is significant, giving a real boost to the kingdom''s development. Not to mention, it''s done wonders for funding my own luxurious lifestyle. Those super rare potions I''ve been eyeing? Finally within reach, and they''ve helped increase my magical abilities more than ever before.

    But I didn''t just sit on that money. The moment I saw the first day''s box office results for "Lord of the Rings," I knew we were in for another tourism boom, just like with "The Demonfather." So I made a calcted decision to invest heavily in our entertainment venues ¡ª the amusement parks, circuses, the whole lot.

    Even though I haven''t seen the film myself yet, I know it was shot right here in the kingdom. That''s why I''ve poured about 70 percent of the film tax earnings ¡ª not just from "Lord of the Rings," mind you ¡ª into these entertainment investments.

    And wouldn''t you know it? My instincts were spot on. In just the first few weeks, our kingdom''s entertainment venues are already profiting from the surge in tourism. Looking at thetest financial reports, I estimate I''ll recoup my entire investment in these parks and circuses within the next two weeks.

    Lord Vermilion burst into my office ¡ª his habit of barging in without knocking making me frown. "What is it this time?"

    The economic advisor cleared his throat before speaking, "Your Highness, we have a bit of a... problem."

    My frown deepened. "Out with it."

    Lord Vermilion coughed nervously. "Red Berry, the overseer of our entertainment venues, is here to discuss some concerns."

    "Send him in," I said curtly.

    Red Berry, the scale demon who managed our entertainment industry, slunk in with fear written all over his face.

    "What''s the issue, Berry?"

    Red hesitated before blurting out, "Your Highness, I''ll be blunt. Our earnings from the entertainment venues are declining."

    I waved dismissively. "That''s to be expected. The hype from that ''Lord of the Rings'' film is dying down, so naturally, tourism is tapering off."

    "It''s not that simple, Your Highness," Red shook his head. "We''ve gotpetition."

    "Competition?" I raised an eyebrow.

    Lord Vermilion chimed in, "He''s referring to the exiled prince''s new Hellfire Theme Park. It''s simr to our venues but on a grander scale, capable of hosting thousands of visitors simultaneously."

    Red nodded vigorously. "Exactly. People are flocking there instead of our attractions. The ex-prince''s film hype isn''t fading ¡ª it''s intensifying."

    "And if this trend continues," Lord Vermilion added gravely, "it''ll be challenging for Your Highness to recoup your investments in the entertainment industry within the expected timeframe."

    As I listened, I felt anger building inside me. I''d thought everything was going ording to n ¡ª who would have guessed that damn Arthur would throw a wrench in my grand investment scheme?

 Chapter 86: Decent prototype

    <h4>Chapter 86: Decent prototype</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    In the "research room," my team and I huddled around our firstpleted prototype. The keyboard looked rough, a product of our simple manufacturing process, but it was functional. That''s what mattered.

    As for the monitor, we had a stroke of luck. Television had been invented in Empirica two years ago. It wasn''t exactly popr yet, with only a handful of TV programs avable, but it meant we didn''t have to reinvent the wheel when it came toputer disys. The technology was there, we just had to adapt it.

    "Alright," I said to my nervousputer team, "let''s insert the magic core."

    Drake and Josh exchanged anxious nces. I gave them an encouraging nod, and they finally slotted the magic core into what would have been the PSU socket in my previous life. In this world, magic cores were our power source, though I was already nning more efficient alternatives for the future. Not everyone could afford fresh energy like magic cores, after all.

    It''s worth noting that electricity in this world was a mixed bag of magic cores, coal, and oil. The fact that magic cores made up only a tiny percentage of the power grid just showed how expensive they were.

    We held our breath for a few seconds. Then, theputer monitor flickered to life. Green lines of light flowed across the motherboard, emanating from the magic core. It was working exactly as we''d intended.

    The screen only disyed a basic prompt, but you''d think we''d won the lottery from the team''s reaction.

    "Woo!"

    "Hell yeah, it worked!"

    Some of them looked ready to burst into tears of joy. I couldn''t me them. They''d been working around the clock to build this thing.

    Of course, we still had a long way to go. The machine didn''t have an operating system yet, and programming something on the level of Windows or Linux would take time. It would''ve been a monumental task if I was the only one who understood the hardwareponents and low-level programming. Thankfully, since the team had built theputer alongside me, they grasped the basics too.

    I hated to be a buzzkill, but I had to remind them: "I''m not trying to rain on anyone''s parade, but our prototype isn''tplete without the basic operating system we''ve been nning."

    Their brief celebration wound down, but pride still shone in their eyes.

    Drake and Josh, who had been scribbling low-levelnguage on papers, looked up with determination. Drake spoke with confidence, "We''ve pretty much memorized the coding, Your Highness. Given some time, we''ll be able to develop a basic operating system."

    I could see why he was so sure of himself. After all, the basic operating system we had in mind was rtively simple. It would include fundamental functions like file management and amand-line interface, But what set it apart was its integration with magical elements - a spell library that could tap into the power of the magic cores.

    This library would include various spells, with a focus on illusion magic, all drawing power from the magic cores.

    I had to admire their enthusiasm, but I wondered if they''d maintain that confidence when it came to programming an operating system on par with Windows or Linux. That was a whole different level.

    Still, the basic system we are about to develop was no walk in the park. We would be able to cast spells from the OS''s spell library ¨C a feature I was particrly excited about. My n was to load theputer''s memory with illusion spells. If we could link thisputer to the VFX Studio, we could make our illusions there even more efficient and impressive.

    ***

    Now that our first prototypeputer was in the bag, I''d already briefed George about signing up for the Electronics Expo in Empirica. The dwarf had been busy tinkering with our cameras when he heard the news about the prototype. He looked up, surprise etched on his face. "Done already? Thought it''d take longer..."

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Seems Drake and Josh have a knack for leading a team. They might''ve even surpassed you in talent."

    "Aye, I doubt that," George scoffed good-naturedly. He held up a camera, pride gleaming in his eyes. "Look here. I''ve souped up our camera. Better resolution, improved colors, and you can even control the frame rate now."

    He puffed out his chest a bit. "I ain''t been twiddling my thumbs, you know. Been plenty busy myself."

    "Very impressive," I nodded, stroking my chin thoughtfully. But before I could continue, a familiar voice cut through the air.

    "Arthur Morningstar!"

    George and I turned to see Vivienne bursting into the room, Firfel hot on her heels.

    I couldn''t help but smile. "You''re finally here, Vivienne."

    Just yesterday, I''d bought out her contract from her agency. It wasn''t cheap ¨C 70 thousand dors, to be exact.

    Vivienne, however, didn''t seem to share my good mood. "Don''t smile like nothing happened!" she snapped, jabbing an usatory finger at me.

    Confused, I nced at Firfel for help, but she just shrugged.

    "What did I do?" I asked, genuinely perplexed.

    "Why..." Vivienne paused, gathering steam. "Why didn''t you contact me for Lord of the Rings? I could''ve been Arwen, you know!"

    I stared at her, momentarily speechless. "But you''re not an elf-"

    "You could''ve made me Gdriel!" Vivienne insisted, stubborn as a mule.

    She looked like a kid who''d been denied her favorite toy. I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Don''t worry, I''ll be sure to feature you in my next film."

    "Only feature me?" She fixed me with an icy re.

    "It''s a cowboy film. Want in?" I offered, still amused.

    Vivienne lifted her chin proudly. "Why not? I could y a beautiful cowgirl."

    I looked at Vivienne in amusement ¡ª she acted like we hadn''t seen each other in ages, still so familiar around me. Then it hit me: maybe a few months really was just a blink of an eye for people with the long lifespans of this world.

    George, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. "Right, I''d better head to Empirica to sign us up for the Electronics Expo. I''ll book a flight now." With that, he excused himself and left.

    "Electronics Expo?" Firfel''s ears perked up. She turned to me, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "What''s that about?"

    Vivienne leaned in, equally intrigued. "Yeah, spill the beans, Arthur."

    I ran a hand through my hair, considering how much to reveal. "Well, we''ve just wrapped up an electronic project. Got the prototype ready and everything. We''re aiming to showcase it at the Expo in June."

    "Ooh, can we see it?" Vivienne asked, practically bouncing on her toes.

    Firfel nodded eagerly. "I''d love a peek too. Must be something special if you''re taking it to the Expo. That ce is where all the cutting-edge stuff gets unveiled."

    I hesitated, then smiled slyly. "Want to see it? There''s just one tiny catch ¡ª you''ll need to sign an NDA first."

    Their faces fell in unison. Firfel raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You don''t trust us?"

    "It''s not about trust," I backpedaled, seeing their expressions turn frosty. "I''m just being cautious. But... oh, alright. One quick look won''t hurt."

    I led them to the prototype, but their reactions weren''t quite what I''d hoped for.

    Firfel tilted her head, brow furrowed. "So... what exactly does it do?"

    "Is that a TV?" Vivienne squinted at the monitor. "And that thing... some kind of fancy typewriter? Weirdbo, if you ask me."

    I bit back a sigh, deciding against exining the full capabilities. No NDA, no details.

    Time for a subject change. "How about I fill you in on Hellfire''s next big project instead?"

    "The cowboy film you mentioned?" Firfel perked up.

    "Something like that," I nodded. "It''ll be a breeze to shoot with our VFX Studio. Think ''The Demonfather,'' but swap out tommy guns for six-shooters and lever-action rifles."

 Chapter 87: The Coveted Rings and Conspiracy

    <h4>Chapter 87: The Coveted Rings and Conspiracy</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Weeks had passed since die-hard "Lord of the Rings" fans began scouring every nook and cranny of the Morningstar Kingdom, desperate to unearth powerful magical rings like those in the film.

    But this wasn''t just a local phenomenon. The "Lord of the Rings Craze," as media outlets had dubbed it, had spread like wildfire across the globe. From the Moonlight Kingdom to Wales, from Deutd to the Leaf Kingdom in the Evros Continent, it had taken root. Even countries like Kanata, Aztec, and Empirica in the Empirica Continent weren''t immune. The fervor reached as far as the South East Anatolia and East Watch kingdoms, and even touched parts of the vast Eden Continent.

    People worldwide had thrown themselves into the search with reckless abandon. Adventurers, in particr, had taken it to extreme levels.

    Some brave souls set sail for distant inds, their logic simple yetpelling. When questioned by curious journalists, these seafaring treasure hunters all gave variations of the same answer: "Remember the end of the film? Frodo was on a boat, heading to some ind to hide the ring from Sauron''s forces. It only makes sense to check the inds."

    It was a reasonable assumption, but it came with unforeseen consequences. Reports flooded in of these adventurers shing with pirates, who, as it turned out, were after the same prize.

    Not all seekers were drawn to the seas, though. Some adventurers and mercenaries turned their attention to towering mountain peaks and deep, dark caves. These individuals didn''t just rely on "Lord of the Rings" for inspiration; they pored over ancient tomes, following cryptic clues in their quest.

    As the search intensified, ordinary folks found themselves pushed to the sidelines. Even dangerous mobs had joined the fray, adding an extrayer of peril to the already risky venture.

    The world had gone ring-mad, and there seemed to be no end in sight to this "Lord of the Rings Craze."

    ***

    In the Eden Continent, the Lunar Kingdom stood as the pinnacle of elven civilization. Its high castle, though dwarfed by the towering Eden tree that pierced the sky, served as the capital for the elven race. This kingdom held sway over almost all other elven realms, which followed its directives.

    Citizens of the Lunar Kingdom enjoyed special privileges when traveling to other elven territories or even some human and dwarf cities.

    Within the castle''s grand throne room, a serious atmosphere prevailed. On the throne sat a beautiful elf queen, her body adorned with intricate leaf designs and her head crowned with an elegant leaf circlet. Before her knelt several elves in robes, their faces concealed by animal-themed masks.

    The elf wearing a gori mask spoke, his voice low and urgent. "My queen, ourtest intelligence from Dolphin suggests that pirates have spotted magical rings. Dolphin and the others lost track of them, but we assure you, we will retrieve these artifacts."

    Despite her ethereal beauty, the queen''s expression remained grave. "We must secure these rings before they fall into the wrong hands. The Srus faith cannot be allowed to im them." Her voice hardened. "We''ve been on the back foot against the Srus for too long. As servants of the Moon Goddess, it''s our duty to bring her glory and honor."

    The masked elves bowed their heads in unison. "We will not disappoint you, my queen," the gori-masked elf vowed.

    ***

    Unbeknownst to Arthur, the "Rings" had caught the attention of powerful and influential figures across the globe. While adventurers, pirates, and treasure hunters scoured thends, they remained oblivious to the involvement of religious organizations, royals, and governments in the search.

    In the Evros Continent, within the Apollo Kingdom - the heart of the Srus faith - stood the most influential and popr church. The Holy Land bustled with worshippers from all walks of life,ing to pay homage to their Lord. However, beneath this pious facade, a ndestine meeting of high-ranking church officials was taking ce in a concealed room.

    "Where''s the Pope? His presence is crucial for a meeting of this gravity," a cardinal said, his tone serious.

    Another cardinal replied, "The Pope''s been missing for quite some time. Last I heard, he was seen in the Thorn Kingdom."

    "What? My sources ce him in Choson, in East Watch," a third interjected.

    "You''re both mistaken. Word has it he''s in Japon, crossing swords with samurai," yet another added.

    As the cardinals and archbishops continued to debate the Pope''s whereabouts, one cardinal, clearly wielding more authority, spoke coldly, "The Pope''s location is irrelevant. He''s been absent for years, neglecting his duties. If the Angels of Srus didn''t insist on keeping him, I''d have reced him long ago."

    His words silenced the room.

    "You''re right, Senior Virtue," one cardinal conceded.

    Another muttered, "I too question why the Angels want him to retain the position."

    Murmurs of agreement filled the room until Virtue raised his hand. "Enough," he said firmly, waiting for silence before continuing, "We must focus on the matter at hand."

    His expression grew grave as he spoke, "Our priority now is to secure these ancient rings. We cannot allow other faiths to impede us. These artifacts are crucial to our goal of ruling all races."

    Murmurs filled the room before one cardinal spoke up, "We''ve been searching for these ancient rings for years. Now this ''Lord of the Rings'' has alerted other faiths to their existence. It was supposed to be our secret!"

    "Indeed," another nodded grimly. "Now we face morepetition. The dwarves of the Forgefather''s faith, the elves of the Moon Goddess faith, and those faithless demons."

    "This is all Arthur Morningstar''s fault!"

    Virtue''s frown deepened. "Enough!" he barked, silencing the room. After a pause, he continued more calmly, "These ancient rings would have drawn attention eventually. There''s no point in assigning me." Despite his words, Virtue couldn''t help but internally curse Arthur Morningstar.

    "We must find a way to secure the Ancient Rings," Virtue concluded. "Otherwise, our grand n will crumble." He let his words sink in before adding, "That''s all for now. This meeting is adjourned."

    As the Srus Faith plotted, simr gatherings were taking ce across the world. The Moon Goddess faith, the dwarves who worshipped the cksmith God, all held their own ndestine meetings. Even in Empirica, the USE government was not idle.

    "Find those rings," the president ordered his top intelligence operatives. "This is a matter of national security and peace."

    Just as these powers set their ns in motion, shocking news broke: one of the magical rings had been found in the Morningstar Kingdom and was to be auctioned.

    Though the ring''s authenticity remained unconfirmed, it caught the attention of powerful figures worldwide.

    Even Arthur, despite being knee-deep in preparations for his next film, couldn''t resist the allure of the supposedly discovered magical ring. His curiosity got the better of him as he turned to George.

    "Hey George, fancy attending an auction? I''m itching to see this magical ring they''ve found."

    George looked up from his work, eyebrow raised. "Magical ring? Sounds like a load of nonsense to me. Probably just some hoax to drum up attention."

    Arthur shrugged off George''s skepticism. While he too harbored doubts about the ring''s authenticity, he couldn''t shake the thought that in this world - a fantasypared to his previous life - a magical ring wasn''t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

    "Come on," Arthur persisted, "even if the ring''s a dud, there might be some ancient dwarven craftsmanship or mechanical marvels up for grabs. Could be useful for our projects."

    At the mention of ancient dwarven artifacts, George''s eyes lit up. "Well, when you put it that way... Alright, count me in. Might find something interesting after all."

    With that, Arthur''s mind was made up. He''d attend the auction, blissfully unaware that the magical ring had caught the attention of far more powerful figures.

 Chapter 88: One-Eyed Auction

    <h4>Chapter 88: One-Eyed Auction</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The so-called "magical ring," supposedly identical to those in my "Lord of the Rings" film, was set to be auctioned at the "One-Eyed Auction".

    Though I seriously doubted it matched the rings from "Lord of the Rings," I still felt it was worth checking out. After all, it might indeed be a magical ring, even if it couldn''tpare to the ones in "Lord of the Rings".

    The auction was ted to begin in two days. Firfel seemed to have gotten wind of it too, as she came to my office asking, "Arthur, did you hear about the auction?"

    "Yeah, I''ve heard about it," I nodded. "They''re saying the ring''s the same as in my film, but I doubt it."

    Firfel raised an eyebrow. "How so?" She paused before adding, "Didn''t you base the film on real history?"

    I nodded with a wry smile. I couldn''t exactly tell her it was based on a film from my previous life, so I just said, "Well, yeah, but I took some creative liberties with the rings'' powers and capabilities. Truth is, no rings as powerful as those in ''Lord of the Rings'' actually exist."

    Firfel nodded, seemingly satisfied with my exnation. "I''m thinking of attending the auction with Shafel. Want to join us?"

    "Funny you should ask," I replied, a bit surprised. "I was nning to go with George. The ring''s piqued my curiosity."

    "Really? Why don''t we all go together then?" Firfel suggested.

    I shrugged, seeing no reason to refuse. "Why not? But tell me, what''s drawing you to the auction? Is it the ring?"

    Firfel shook her head. "Not really. While I''m curious about the ring, I''m actually after the Ancient Amulet."

    "Ancient Amulet?" I echoed, intrigued.

    "It''s an amulet said to have belonged to the third queen of the Roses Kingdom," Firfel exined, a hint of reverence in her voice.

    "Ah, the Roses Kingdom," I nodded, recalling Firfel''s origins. "So it''s a treasure from your homnd?"

    Firfel nodded, her eyes distant, perhaps lost in memories of her kingdom.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The day of the "One-Eyed Auction" finally arrived. The auction house stood proudly in the upper district of Fend city, one of the wealthiest areas in town.

    This district was a bustling hub ofmerce and luxury. Upscale restaurants and trendy cafes lined the streets, alongside high-end bookstores and fashion boutiques. Jewelry stores glittered with precious gems, their windows drawing admiring nces from passersby. It was also home to some of the most prestigious schools and universities in the city.

    Today, however, all eyes were on the One-Eyed Auction house, or more specifically, on the "Rings from Lord of the Rings" that were to be sold there.

    High-end cars, each worth tens or even hundreds of thousands of dors, began pulling up to the auction house. The who''s who of demon society stepped out, ready to vie for the prized items.

    Ashen Gray, head of Demon Pictures, strode confidently into the building. Close behind came Ricky Brawl of Demonic Entertainment, followed by Rus Key from Monk Entertainment. Dizzy Flu of District Films and Daemon Spirit of Spirit Studios weren''t far behind.

    It seemed the entire upper echelon of the demon entertainment industry had turned out for the event.

    Even rich demon kids, clearly having skipped their sses, were milling about outside the auction house.

    "Looks like my allowance is about to take a serious hit," one of them chuckled.

    His friend grinned back. "I''m saving mine for that magical ring. Can you imagine?"

    As they chatted, the group''s attention suddenly shifted. They turned to a young demoness standing nearby, her regal bearing unmistakable.

    "Apollonia," one of them called out, curiosity evident in his voice, "what about you? Got your eye on anything special in this auction?"

    The young princess regarded them coolly, clearly considering her response.

    The 14-year-old Apollonia began to respond, "I''ll probably just take a look at that magical ring¡ª" but she was cut off by a familiar voice.

    "Apollonia, what are you doing here?"

    The group turned to see Lucy Morningstar approaching. "Your Highness," they chorused, bowing deeply. Only Apollonia remained upright.

    Lucy fixed her gaze on her young rtive. "Shouldn''t you be in ss?"

    Apollonia met her stare evenly. "I''m just hanging out with my friends," she said, then added pointedly, "What about you? Aren''t you busy?"

    Lucy faltered for a moment before regaining herposure. "I''m here for important matters, of course." The truth, which she kept to herself, was that she too hade for the magical ring.

    As they spoke, more high-profile figures arrived at the auction house. Among them were secretive individuals in robes - some clearly cult members, others from the Srus, Moon Goddess, and cksmith God''s faiths. Intelligence operatives from the USE mingled with the crowd, as did agents from other countries and kingdoms, all trying to blend in.

    Just as the auction was about to begin, a sleek "Fire of Hell" car, worth a cool ten thousand dors, pulled up. Arthur stepped out, followed by George, Firfel, and Shafel.

    George let out a low whistle as he surveyed the lineup of cars. "Would you look at that? Most of these are Fire of Hell brand."

    Firfel nodded, a knowing smile on her face. "It''s all thanks to ''The Demonfather.'' That film saved the Fire of Hellpany from bankruptcy."

    Arthur chuckled, recalling how the struggling carpany had been revived simply because their vehicles featured so prominently in his film. They''d only given him a ten-thousand-dor car as a thank-you, but he hadn''t minded much.

    "Let''s go," Arthur said, leading his group into the auction house. As they entered, he couldn''t help but wonder what surprises awaited them inside. The magical ring might be the main attraction, but with this crowd, anything could happen.

    ***

    The auction officially began as a stunning subus took the stage as host. "Wee to the One-Eyed Auction, everyone," she purred.

    While the high-profile and secretive individuals remained stoic, many of the regr demon attendees couldn''t help but eye the alluring host appreciatively.

    "I''m Jenny Lee, and I''ll be presenting the items up for auction today," she announced,unching into the first item - a decaying dragon tooth starting at one hundred dors.

    In their VIP room, Arthur, Firfel, George, and Shafel settled in for a long wait. As the auction dragged on, Arthur found himself stifling yawns.

    Finally, the moment they''d been waiting for arrived. Jenny presented the Ancient Amulet, starting the bidding at 1,000 dors.

    Several VIP rooms sprang into action. A figure in a gori mask from one room bid ten thousand.

    Firfel, her eyes gleaming, countered, "Eleven thousand."

    The auctioneer acknowledged her bid, but the gori mask quickly upped the ante to fifteen thousand.

    Arthur watched the back-and-forth, noticing Firfel''s frown deepening as the price climbed. Sensing she was nearing her limit at twenty thousand, he decided to step in.

    "Thirty thousand," Arthur called out, his voice firm.

    His bid drew surprised looks from Firfel, Shafel, and George. Even the gori-masked bidder seemed taken aback, his gaze shifting to Arthur''s VIP room. Though he couldn''t see inside, it was clear the new voice wasn''t the woman who''d been bidding before.

    The auctioneer''s gavel struck twice. "Sold to VIP room number 8 for thirty thousand!"

    Firfel turned to Arthur, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you," she said warmly.

    Arthur just smiled, shrugging off her thanks. "It''s nothing."

    As they spoke, a veiled subus entered their room, presenting the Ancient Amulet. Firfel and Shafel rushed over, admiring it with reverence.

    Arthur studied the amulet curiously. "So... what exactly does it do?"

    Firfel hesitated. "To be honest, I''m not sure. But it can''t be simple. It belonged to the third queen of my homnd, after all."

    Arthur nodded, examining the clearly ancient artifact. Shafel chimed in, "Legend has it, this amulet was a gift from a King of the Giants."

    "Giants?" Arthur''s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

    Firfel smiled wryly. "So they say. Who knows if it''s true, though."

    Arthur nodded, recalling the mysterious disappearance of the Giants in this world''s history.

    Their discussion was cut short as the auction''s main event began - the unveiling of the "Magical Ring." The atmosphere in the auction house shifted palpably.

    From the gori-masked individual to the robed figures in the VIP rooms, from Lucy with Apollonia and her ssmates to the representatives of the Srus faith - all eyes locked onto the ring box.

    As the box opened, Jenny, the host,unched into her introduction. "The seller, who wishes to remain anonymous, is a pirate who acquired this ring at great cost. Many of his crew perished in the quest to obtain it." Her voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. "This ring,dies and gentlemen, is said to bestow unparalleled authority and power upon its wearer!"

    The room buzzed with excitement and tension. Arthur found himself leaning forward, despite his skepticism. Could this ring truly be as powerful as imed?

 Chapter 89: Lucyâ€™s blunder

    <h4>Chapter 89: Lucy''s blunder</h4>

    (Lance Ashford POV)

    The higher-ups had sent me, a champion of the Srus faith, to this lowly demon auction. My task: determine if the ring on offer was the one our church sought.

    Cardinal Virtue''s words still rang in my ears: "Verify if it''s the Ancient Ring we''re after. If not, track down the seller. Even if it''s not our ring, its origin might lead us to the real thing. Interrogate the seller, then... offer him to the Lord."

    Those orders weighed on me as I watched the proceedings. The robed bishop beside me scrutinized the ring on stage. "Is it the one?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

    The bishop nced between the ring and an ancient tome in his hands. After muttering an {Appraisal} spell, he shook his head. "No, Champion Lance. It''s just amon spatial ring from bygone days."

    I nodded, my jaw tightening. "I see."

    "If it''s not what we seek, we should locate the seller," the bishop mused. "The host mentioned he''s a pirate." A hint of disdain crept into his voice. "A sinner in need of cleansing, wouldn''t you agree?"

    "Indeed," I concurred, my mind already plotting our next move.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The Srus representatives weren''t the only ones to quickly realize the ring wasn''t the "Ancient Ring" they sought. The Fallen Stars, loyal only to Demon King Luke Morningstar, also recognized it as a mere spatial ring.

    "Waste of time. We''re out," muttered a robed Fallen Star. Without another word, their group vacated their VIP room.

    The gori-masked individual from the Moon Goddess faith, under orders from the Lunar Queen, followed suit. Even the dwarven representatives of the Forgefather faith slipped away quietly.

    Yet the cult members, less discerning, remained. Their excited voices filled the air as they vied for the spatial ring.

    "Two hundred thousand dors!" one shouted.

    "Two hundred and fifty!" countered another.

    Lucy''s voice cut through, "Two sixty!"

    In VIP room number 8, Arthur watched the bidding war with bemused detachment.

    "Not joining in, boss?" George asked, his armsden with the ancient dwarven artifacts he''d won.

    Arthur snorted. "Hundreds of thousands for that ring? No thanks. If it had the same power as the ones in ''Lord of the Rings,'' that pirate would''ve used it himself long ago, don''t you think?"

    George, Firfel, and Shafel mulled it over, nodding in agreement. "Your right."

    "Justmon sense," Arthur continued, a hint of disdain in his voice. "These bidders are swallowing every word hook, line, and sinker."

    "If it''s so obvious," George prodded, "why''d youe to the auction for it?"

    Arthur paused. "Curiosity, I guess." But internally, he knew the ring wasn''t from "Lord of the Rings." It matched the description of a spatial ring he''d once read about in an ancient text.

    Still, he mused, a ring that could store items was magical in its own right. Just not the earth-shattering power some seemed to expect.

    Arthur and his group slipped out of the auction house unnoticed, the crowd''s attention fixed firmly on the magical ring. Even the presence of popr "Lord of the Rings" actors like George, Firfel, and Shafel, not to mention the infamous ex-prince Arthur himself, went unremarked.

    The bidding war raged on, culminating in Lucy''s victory at a staggering 500 thousand dors.

    As Lucy imed her prize, Apollonia leaned in, whispering, "Sis, was it really worth spending that much on a ring?"

    Lucy scoffed. "Of course," she said, eyeing the ring greedily. "This will definitely boost my power."

    She slipped it on, excitement evident in her eyes. Apollonia''s ssmates watched intently, half-expecting Lucy to suddenly manifest the legendary powers of ancient demons and transform into the Demon Queen right before their eyes.

    Lucy channeled her magical power into the ring, anticipation building... only to feel nothing. No surge of power, no earth-shattering abilities. Instead, her mind filled with unexpected information: a spatial storage of 0.25 cubic meters.

    The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She''d been duped.

    Lucy''s expression turned cial, startling Apollonia''s ssmates.

    "Did... did Her Highness just inherit the ring''s power?" one of them ventured nervously.

    Before anyone could specte further, Lucy snapped. "Leave me alone. Now!"

    Their eyes widened in shock. Lucy''sposure rarely cracked; she was known for her calm intelligence and beauty. They scurried away without another word.

    Once alone, Lucy''s frustration boiled over. "I can''t believe I just blew five hundred thousand dors on this worthless trinket!" she hissed.

    If it had been a spatial ring with significant storage, she might have swallowed her pride. But 0.25 cubic meters? It was practically useless.

    As she clenched her fists, thoughts of revenge against the ring''s seller swirled in her mind.

    ***

    What Lucy didn''t know was that the seller was already regretting his decision to sell the ring. The pirate was on the run, constantly looking over his shoulder.

    Just as he reached his hideout, a tap on his shoulder made him freeze.

    "Where are you off to? I thought we might have a chat," a young voice said.

    The pirate turned to face a handsome young man. Normally, he''d have scoffed at such a pretty boy, but the iron grip on his shoulder made him wince in pain.

    "Let... let go of me," he stammered.

    The young man''s smile never faltered. "Why so nervous? We''re here to help. It''s quite an honor to offer yourself to Lord Srus, after all."

    Gritting his teeth, the pirate reached for his revolver. Before he could pull the trigger, the young man snapped his wrist, sending the gun ttering to the ground.

    "Who- who are you?" the pirate gasped. "I''ve never heard of Srus worshippers being this cruel!"

    Lance Ashford''s smile widened. "You don''t need to know that. Just understand that you''re very fortunate."

    Terror gripped the pirate. "L-look, I worship Srus too! Please, let me go!"

    "Oh, you do? Wonderful. Then you''ll be even more grateful for this opportunity." Lance muttered a spell, and the pirate crumpled unconscious.

    The bishop stepped out from the shadows. "We need to move, Champion Lance. Our authority in these demonnds is limited."

    "I know." Lance hoisted the pirate over his shoulder.

    A bus pulled up nearby, as if on cue. Lance and the bishop boarded the empty vehicle, and it drove off without a word.

    ***

    Hours after Lucy''s ring purchase, the royal family gathered for dinner. Luke red at his daughter, his voiceced with disappointment. "I thought you were exceptional, but you''re no different from a fool!"

    He jabbed a finger in her direction. "Five hundred thousand dors on a useless ring? Were you even thinking?"

    Lucy bowed her head, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Forgive me, Father. It won''t happen again."

    The demon queen, Luke''s wife, attempted to intervene. "Let it go, Your Majesty. It''s just five hundred thousand. She can earn that back quickly."

    Luke''s eyes turned cold. "Earn it back quickly? Ha!" He snorted. "If not for that lucky exiled son and his films, she wouldn''t see that kind of money."

    Lucy''s face reddened further at the mention of Arthur.

    "Think carefully about your spending," Luke warned, "or you might find yourself exiled too."

    ***

    The next day at Hellfire Studio, Arthur and his crew kicked off auditions for their next project. News of "Hellfire Studio auditions for next film project" had aspiring actors lining up in droves.

    In the wake of "Lord of the Rings," Hellfire Studio was undeniably on the rise.

    But sess, as Arthur well knew, rarely came without its share of hurdles.

    While Hellfire''s ascent seemed unstoppable, the media was abuzz with counter-moves from the industry giants. Titan Pictures and other major studios had just dropped bombshells of their own, announcing ambitious projects aimed at not just matching, but surpassing "Lord of the Rings."

    The pushback didn''t stop there. Famous singers and bands, signed tobels under these entertainment behemoths, were now actively discouraging their fans from supporting Hellfire Studio.

 Chapter 90: Blondie

    <h4>Chapter 90: Blondie</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    It''s been two days since I started auditions, but I''m still searching for actors to y Blondie, Angel Eyes, and Tuco.

    I''m aiming to cast a half-demon, half-human as Blondie to make the story more believable. While I bought "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" from the System''s Entertainment Shop, I''ve been adapting the script to fit this world''s history.

    There''s actual record of demons working as bounty hunters in Empirica''s past, though most were half-human, half-demon rather than pure demons.

    For Angel Eyes, the ouw, I''m looking to cast an elf. Despite elves'' reputation for being peaceful, many rebelled and migrated to Empirica when it was still developing, especially on the west coast.

    During Empirica''s Frontier Age, many elves reportedly became ouws.

    It makes sense for an elf ouw to y the "bad" character.

    As for the "ugly" bandit, I n to cast a dwarf.

    This time, I won''t be acting in the film. With my new {Cinematic Vision} ability, I want to focus solely on directing.

    So far, no luck finding anyone suitable for the lead roles. Then, in struts Damien Darkme¡ªsauntering into the audition studio like he owns the ce, demanding to be cast as the lead.

    "Hold up," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. "If you want the lead, you''ll need to audition like everyone else. That means getting in line."

    Damien''s face contorted with indignation. "Are you out of your mind?" He jabbed a thumb at his chest. "I''m Damien Darkme! A demon superstar! I''m doing your little movie a favor by even considering it, and you have the gall to reject me?"

    I stared at him, momentarily lost for words. Beside me, Klein and the others shifted ufortably.

    Klein leaned in, whispering urgently, "Boss, what do we do? Damien''s still a big name in the industry. An A-lister."

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "A-list in the demon realm, maybe." I shook my head. "Firfel, Shafel, even Imkrag have already left him in the dust¡ªnot just here, but globally."

    Klein fell silent, digesting this.

    Damien, growing impatient, pressed on. "Well? What''s it gonna be? I don''t have all day to waste on this. Am I in or not?"

    I met his gaze, my expression hardening. "No," I said firmly. "Back of the line. Everyone gets a fair shot here. Being... well, you, doesn''t buy you any special treatment."

    Damien''s face flushed with anger as he continued to argue. I''d had enough. With a subtle nod, I signaled the fiend demon security to escort him out.

    As Damien was led away, still protesting, I turned back to the waiting hopefuls. "Right, let''s get this audition back on track."

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    {Morningstar, Soul City}

    At the Snake Agency office, an imp demon regarded the actor before him with indifference. "I''m sorry, but I really can''t find a role for you, Clint."

    Clint, a half-human, half-demon, looked worse for wear. His appearance spoke volumes - sleepless nights and missed meals evident in his haggard face.

    "You''re my agent, Ralph... Can''t you find something for me? I''m really struggling here. Haven''t eaten in days." Clint''s voice was thin and weary, his exhaustion palpable.

    Ralph shrugged, unmoved. "Sorry, Clint. Not much I can do. Why don''t you look for other jobs while waiting for your big break?" His tone was t, devoid of sympathy.

    Clint sighed heavily. "I can''t... I''ve been job hunting for weeks. The few who hired me paid peanuts. It''s not enough to live on..."

    "I really can''t do anything for you, Clint," Ralph repeated, shrugging again. "You''ve gotta hang in there and keep looking."

    After a moment of silence, Clint perked up. "Wait - what about that project you mentioned? The exiled prince''s new film?"

    Ralph grabbed a nearby newspaper. "Oh, this?" He snorted. "I don''t think you stand a chance there, Clint."

    He pointed at the headline. "Look, even Damien Darkme got the cold shoulder from the ex-prince. Damien lined up to audition and was rejected outright!"

    Clint fell silent, eyes scanning the headline and grainy photos.

    "You don''t have any luck there," Ralph shook his head, lighting a cigarette. "No way Arthur would be interested in you."

    Clint knew Ralph was probably right. But after leaving Snake Agency, he set off for Fend City anyway.

    Ralph might be right, but Clint figured taking a chance beat waiting for a big break that would likely nevere.

    He was well aware that Snake Agency and Ralph were stringing him along, dangling false hope. Two months of waiting, and not even a minor role hade his way through them.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    The audition''s been running for a week now. I''ve managed to cast an elf named Levi Hayes for the ouw, and for "the ugly," I picked a dwarf who''s just the right mix of scary and, well, ugly.

    My {Cinematic Vision} skill''s been a godsend in spotting the right actors for each role.

    But "Blondie"? That''s been a tough nut to crack. A few caught my eye, but {Cinematic Vision} told me they just wouldn''t cut it in the role.

    I was starting to think I''d have to y Blondie myself when this actor shows up to audition.

    Clint Foster, he calls himself.

    Funny thing is, Clint''s got a bit of a young Clint Eastwood look about him - same hair, eyes, and nose. But looks aren''t everything. What matters is if he can pull off the role.

    I can see the hunger in his eyes, the desperation in his demeanor. Guy''s clearly been through the wringer.

    "Action," I call out.

    Clint starts his scene, and I watch with interest. As the audition wraps up, I find myself nodding in approval.

    My {Cinematic Vision} kicked in, showing me shes of Clint in various scenes, nailing the role. After a moment''s consideration, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the arm of my chair, I made my decision. This Clint guy was our Blondie.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Clint watched Arthur''s expression, his heart in his throat. The silence from Arthur and the casting crew felt deafening.

    He needed this role. Desperately.

    "Did... Did I do okay?" Clint''s voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

    Arthur''s smile caught everyone off guard. "Looks like we''ve found our lead," he announced, surprising not just Clint, but everyone at the audition, including the actors still waiting in line.

    ***

    Arthur''s film project had been under intense scrutiny from the start. The media had been circling like vultures, especially after the incident with Damien Darkme.

    They''d had a field day reporting on how the famous actor had been escorted out, forced to line up, only to be rejected.

    So when news broke that some unknown actor had snagged the role Damien had coveted, the media pounced. Headlines screamed across papers and news sites: "Unknown Face Steals Role from Damien Darkme!"

    When Damien caught wind of this, his reaction was explosive. In a fit of rage, he hurled a fireball at his agency''s table and tossed a chair at his hapless manager.

    Naturally, Damien''s meltdown became its own scandal, stered across the media, further tarnishing his already bruised reputation.

    ***

    (Clint Foster POV)

    I''m still reeling. Me,nding the lead role of "Blondie"? It''s surreal.

    My agent''s words echo in my head: "You don''t have any luck there. No way Arthur would be interested in you." Yet here I am, having done the so-called impossible.

    And as if that wasn''t enough, ex-prince Arthur drops another bombshell. He''s offering me a contract with his "Hellfire Agency."

    "Clint Foster," he says, eyeing me thoughtfully. "Your profile says you''re with Snake Agency..." He pauses, then adds, "How about joining my agency instead? I''ll offer you an upfront payment of forty thousand dors."

    I nearly choke on my drink. Forty... Forty fucking thousand dors?!

    Without missing a beat, I blurt out, "I''m in!" The enthusiasm in my voice surprises even me.

    It''s a no-brainer, really. My current agency, my agent? They couldn''t care less about me. So why not go with an agency that''s willing to put forty grand on the table?

    This feels like a dream. But if it is, I sure as hell don''t want to wake up.

 Chapter 91: The filming starts again, but... Arthur needs to punish some ghosts

    <h4>Chapter 91: The filming starts again, but... Arthur needs to punish some ghosts</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Atst, after what felt like an eternity of searching, I''ve assembled the main cast for my movie.

    Take Benny Cave, the dwarf actor ying Tuco. He''s sixty, but you''d never guess it. Dwarves are known for their "old looks," and at sixty, Benny could pass for a teenager. The only giveaway is his intimidating demeanor, a far cry from the naivety of younger dwarves.

    Benny''s perfect for "the ugly," and not just because of his looks. He spent fifteen years in the Aztec Kingdom over in Empirica. Rubbed shoulders with old-timers who lived through the Wild West era. That firsthand knowledge of the Empirican Old West and Civil War times? It''s gold.

    Then there''s Lei River, our elf ying Angel Eyes. Those kind eyes of his live up to the "Angel" part of his character''s name. But he''s ying "the bad," and I can already see the audience''s surprise when they realize this angel-faced elf is the viin.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    As the actors stepped into the VFX Studio, their eyes widened in amazement. The ce was a maze of ruins and spell markers.

    "So this is the famous VFX Studio where ''Lord of the Rings'' was made," Clint muttered, awe in his voice.

    Lei chimed in, "I heard this ce is worth millions. We''re literally walking on a fortune right now."

    "Wow," Clint breathed, the other cast members nodding in agreement.

    Benny, ever the skeptic, added, "Millions spent just for that ''Lord of the Rings'' movie? The ex-prince sure had guts to risk that much cash."

    "It paid off though," one of the side actors pointed out. "The film raked in so much, a few million in expenses seems like pocket change now."

    Benny sneered, "That''s ''cause it got lucky. What if it had flopped? Would''ve been millions down the drain."

    The others fell silent, unable to argue with the dwarf''s blunt logic.

    As they walked through the corridor and into the main studio area, their jaws dropped. Without the illusions, the ce looked surprisingly bare.

    They spotted Arthur with the production crew, tending to some horses and unicorns. He nodded as they approached. "You''re here. Good." He gestured to a nearby house shimmering with illusion magic. "Head over there. Makeup and wardrobe will get you ready for the scene."

    The actors nodded, still taking in their surroundings. In one corner, crew members were pouring sand, prepping the set for the day''s shoot.

    ***

    The cast emerged from the house, only to find themselves in what appeared to be a dusty old town. While astonished, they weren''t entirely shocked - they''d expected some impressive illusions.

    Even old Benny was taken aback. He felt transported back to the towns of Aztec in the Empirican Continent.

    Kicking at the ground, Benny watched sand swirl around his feet. "This studio ain''t half bad," he admitted, grudgingly impressed. "You can film anywhere, all in one ce."

    "You got that right," Lei agreed, nodding.

    Arthur''s voice cut through their wonderment, amplified by a megaphone. "Alright, enough gawking. Let''s get this show on the road!"

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Seeing them so awestruck, I had to snap them out of it. We had filming to do.

    As we started shooting the opening sequence - Tuco''s escape - I employed my {Heartstrings} skill. It helped Benny and the others act more authentically. One take, and we had the scene in the bag.

    Thebination of {Heartstrings} and {Cinematic Vision} was potent stuff. I''d use them all day if I could, but I''ve got to be careful. These skills have their limits.

    If {Heartstrings} was unlimited, what would be the point of good actors? I could turn even the worst performer into a star. But that''s not the reality. After using it for one scene, I''ve only got about four more uses today.

    I used {Heartstrings} again for Tuco''s scene. Benny didn''t even realize his emotions were being manipted. The dwarf''s pride had him convinced it was all his own talent.

    The other cast members, though... I could see it in their faces. They were starting to sense something was off. But I just had them brush it aside.

    It''s a fine line I''m walking here. These skills are incredible tools, but I''ve got to use them wisely. Don''t want to rely on them too much, or I might forget what real acting looks like.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    A few days into filming "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly," the cast started noticing something off about the VFX Studio. Sure, nailing tough scenes in one take was impressive, but the weird stuff happening on set? That was something else entirely.

    Actors shivering from sudden cold spells after wrapping up evening shoots. Personal items vanishing into thin air. Doors swinging open by themselves. It was getting to be a regr haunted house around there.

    Word spread quickly among the cast: ghosts were having a field day messing with them.

    Most of the demon actors shrugged it off. Ghostly pranks were nothing new in their world. But for some, the random cold spots and other unexined phenomena were starting to grate on their nerves.

    Clint got the worst of it one day, finding himself locked in a room. "Help! I can''t get out!" he yelled, panic edging into his voice.

    Even Lei wasn''t spared. Desperate for a bathroom break, he found himself pleading with an unseen prankster. "Open this door, you piece of crap! I need to pee!"

    These incidents piled up, and the actors kept bringing them to Arthur. His response? "Ghosts? Don''t sweat it. They''re just having fun. You should''ve seen what they pulled during ''Lord of the Rings.'' filming."

    The cast reluctantly epted this exnation, deciding to grin and bear it. What Arthur didn''t tell them was that the ghosts had actually ramped up their antics since "Lord of the Rings."

    During filming, the set would suddenly turn frigid for no apparent reason. Arthur found himself constantly using his {Atmosphere Control} skill to ward off the chill. The cold was messing with the scene''s atmosphere, and the shivering actors were struggling to stay in character.

    Klein approached Arthur, frustration evident in his voice. "Boss, these ghosts are getting out of hand. How are we supposed to deal with them?"

    Arthur rubbed his temples, feeling a headacheing on. "We can''t exactly call in Srus priests for a cleansing. Not after ''The Demonfather'' ruffled their feathers." He paused, considering their options. "Our best bet is to scare them off somehow. Make them think twice about messing with us."

    Klein looked skeptical. "Scare them? Boss, we can''t even touch ghosts. How are we supposed to intimidate something we can''t harm?"

    Arthur sighed, his eyes fixed on a transparent interface only he could see. "I might have a solution..."

    <strong>[Phantom Touch: A skill that grants the user the extraordinary ability to interact with ghosts and spirits on a physical level. By extending a hand, the user can reach out to ethereal beings, allowing for bothmunication and maniption of ghostly energies.]</strong>

    Arthur winced internally at the price tag: 4 million entertainment points. It was a steep cost, but as he watched another actor shiver from a ghostly cold spot, he knew he had to do something. These spectral shenanigans were threatening to derail the entire production.

    "Give me a few hours," he told Klein. "I think I can sort this out."

    ***

    Just hours after acquiring the skill, Arthur put it to use. As the ghosts began their usual pranks, leaving the actors helpless, everyone was stunned to see Arthur reach out and grab a previously invisible specter.

    "Aah!" The ghost''s shriek echoed through the studio.

    The production crew and cast watched in amazement as Arthur pulled the ghost into view, making it visible to all.

    They could only assume Arthur was using some powerful spell that not only allowed him to touch ghosts but also made them visible to the naked eye.

    But Arthur wasn''t done. He began plucking more ghosts from thin air, and to everyone''s disbelief, he started tying their ghostly tails together.

    "Ahh!"

    "He- he touched us!"

    "This can''t be possible!"

    The ghosts'' cries of fear and confusion filled the air as they gaped at Arthur in terror.

    Arthur pointed at the tangled mass of spirits, his voice stern. "You guys deserve a spanking!"

    The entire studio watched in awe as Arthur proceeded to discipline the troublesome spirits. It was a sight none of them ever expected to see - their director, literally taking ghosts to task.

    As the spectral wails died down, one of the actors whispered, "Remind me never to get on the boss''s bad side."

 Chapter 92: Wild West Epic Film Wrapped Up

    <h4>Chapter 92: Wild West Epic Film Wrapped Up</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    In a twist that left everyone astounded, Arthur didn''t just punish the ghosts - he hired them. The specters, desperate to avoid another spanking, reluctantly agreed to help with production.

    To everyone''s surprise, these ethereal beings proved invaluable. They handled seemingly impossible tasks with ease, perfecting lighting and achieving camera angles that would''ve been unthinkable without their spectral assistance.

    The quality of filming improved dramatically, though not solely due to the ghostly help. Arthur''s {Cinematic Vision} skill yed a crucial role in elevating the overall direction. He found himself grateful for the {Phantom Touch} skill, realizing it allowed him to fully harness {Cinematic Vision}''s potential with the ghosts'' aid.

    Despite their usefulness, the ghosts'' presence still unnerved some actors, especially when the spirits were invisible during filming. But as days passed, the cast gradually grew ustomed to their supernatural co-workers.

    ***

    While "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" production flourished, Arthur was putting the finishing touches on Chapter 10 of "Dragon Ball".

    For months, he''d been sketching during his downtime, his artistic skills improving with each stroke. Though filming now limited his drawing time, his increased proficiency meant he''d likelyplete "Dragon Ball" Volume 1 within a few weeks.

    Meanwhile, as Arthur immersed himself in his projects, his book "Harry Potter" caught the eye of Mark Stark, a businessman who owned a publishingpany in the Leaf Kingdom.

    Mark, impressed by the plot after reading it, nned to contact the writer and publisher about distributing the book in the Leaf Kingdom, situated in the Evros Continent.

    However, when he saw the publisher''s name - "Hellfire Stories" - it struck a chord.

    The "Hellfire" part reminded him of "Hellfire Studio," creators of "The Demonfather," a film that had left quite an impression on him. They''d even released another blockbuster recently, "Lord of the Rings," which was all anyone seemed to talk about these days.

    "Could this Hellfire Stories be connected to that studio?" Mark mused, his curiosity piqued.

    He doubted it initially. Surely that ex-prince who owned Hellfire Studio would be too busy with filmmaking to run a book publishingpany on the side. And "Harry Potter"? It seemed unlikely.

    But when Mark visited Hellfire Stories'' headquarters to discuss licensing rights with the CEO, he was in for a surprise.

    "Sorry, but I don''t have much say regarding the selling of licensing rights," the CEO told him apologetically.

    Mark frowned, confused. "Aren''t you the CEO?"

    The demon before him shook his head. "Um... actually, no. The true boss is Arthur Morningstar."

    Mark''s jaw nearly hit the floor. It seemed the ex-prince''s reach extended further than anyone had imagined.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Two weeks into filming, and things are running like clockwork. Lei''s nailing it as Angel Eyes, really selling that cruel ouw vibe. Sure, I''ve had to nudge him along with {Heartstrings} here and there, but he''sing into his own. Benny the dwarf, though? He''s been getting a lot more help from my little emotional maniption trick.

    But Clint? He''s a natural as Blondie. Kid''s so good, I haven''t had to waste a single {Heartstrings} on him. It''s like he was born for this role.

    That''s not to say Lei and Benny aren''t improving. Benny, especially, is really sinking his teeth into the part. Maybe it''s my {Heartstrings} working its magic, or maybe his time in Aztec is paying off, but damn if he isn''t bringing his A-game.

    Take that scene in the firearm store. Benny, as Tuco, handled that prop gun like a genuine Wild West ouw. When he pointed it at the old man owner and asked, "How much?", I swear I saw real fear in the old timer''s eyes.

    And when Tuco robbed the ce? Benny pped that "closed" sign on the old man''s mouth, and I could practically feel the poor guy''s shock. It was perfect.

    Benny''s reallying into his own. I barely need {Heartstrings} for him anymore. He even nailed that scene where Blondie shoots the invader. Benny, leaning out the window as Tuco, delivered that line pitch-perfect: "There are two kinds of spurs, my friend. Those thate in by the door," - he did the sign of the circle - "those thate in by the window."

    Gotta hand it to him, Benny''s got Tuco down pat, right down to that Srus faith circle thing. Maybe there''s more to this old dwarf than I first thought.

    And of course, Lei wasn''t about to be left behind. He''s really leaning into Angel Eyes'' ruthlessness. It''s fascinating, really. While all three main characters are morally ambiguous, Blondie''s the least of three evils, and Angel Eyes? He''s cold as ice, no mercy for anyone.

    Watching these three grow into their roles as we shoot... it''s something else.

    Clint and Benny, though? They''re hitting it off, on and off camera. That scene with Blondie weak in bed and Tuco by his side? Pure gold.

    Benny, faking a cry, nailed it: "You''re all alone, huh? Like me, Blondie. We''re all alone in the world. I have you, you have me."

    Sure, their characters are at each other''s throats half the time - hell, Blondie even sshed a drink in Tuco''s face - but there''s this undeniable chemistry between them. It''s like watching a dysfunctional friendship unfold.

    Benny''s facial expressions, I gotta say, are top-notch. Eli Wach would be tipping his hat if he could see this.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    While Arthur managed to capture most of the crucial scenes within the VFX Studio, some exterior shots and long-distance travel scenes still required on-location filming.

    As time progressed, the production nearedpletion without facing the hurdles that had gued "Lord of the Rings". They filmed the tense standoff between Blondie, Tuco, and the troops with exceptional detail.

    Arthur''s direction brought out the nuances - the troop leader casually dusting off his uniform, Benny and Clint''s loaded silence as they faced the soldiers. The subsequent capture scene felt raw and authentic.

    Arthur''s directorial prowess shone in the scene where Tuco endured a beating. He masterfully captured the anguish, even using his {Heartstrings} skill to coax a tear-jerking performance from the violin yer in the background.

    Over time, Clint and Benny''s rtionship began to mirror their characters''plex dynamic. This chemistry came through brilliantly in the final standoff, where Tuco and Blondie''s takedown of Angel Eyes felt organic and unrehearsed.

    The production was nearing the end of filming, capturing Tuco''s struggle as he hung from the tree. This scene resonated deeply with Arthur and the crew, evoking strong emotions.

    Even as the director, Arthur had to hand it to Benny for his portrayal of Tuco. That final scene - Tuco''s tear-filled eyes as he desperately reached for the money, his short stature and the hanging rope adding to his struggle - Benny had truly outdone himself.

    The film concluded with Blondie''s pinpoint shot, severing the rope and sending Tuco face-first into the dirt. As Arthur called the final "Cut!", a wave of emotion washed over him.

    After an intense four weeks of filming, they''d finally wrapped their Wild West epic.

    The experience had been a masterss in directing for Arthur. By stepping back from acting and focusing solely on his role behind the camera, he''d gained invaluable insights into managing actors and honing their performances. He''d watched Benny and Lei grow into their roles, revealing depths of talent he hadn''t initially anticipated. Their potential was undeniable, and Arthur knew they''d be valuable additions to his agency.

    Looking around, Arthur couldn''t help but notice how Benny and Clint had bonded over the course of filming, their friendship mirroring their characters''plex rtionship.

    Riding the high of their sess, Arthur extended an offer to both Lei and Benny to join Hellfire Agency. It was an easy decision for them both - they epted without hesitation.

    As the dust settled on the project, Arthur found himself thrust into a new opportunity. Word came in about an international book publisher interested in distributing "Harry Potter".

 Chapter 93: Stark Quill

    <h4>Chapter 93: Stark Quill</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    At Hellfire Stories headquarters, Mark Stark waited patiently in the office, the demon CEO beside him.

    "Boss Arthur will be here any minute now," the CEO assured.

    Mark nodded. "Yeah, I heard he just wrapped up a film?"

    "That''s right. It''s why I contacted you immediately. The boss finally has time to meet."

    As they chatted, the office door swung open, revealing the man himself: Arthur Morningstar.

    "Boss, you''re here," the demon CEO said, relief evident in his voice.

    Arthur nodded, patting his employee''s shoulder. "I''ll take it from here."

    Once alone, Mark extended his hand. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Morningstar. I''m Mark Stark. I''ve seen ''The Demonfather'' - learned a lot from it, actually."

    Arthur chuckled, shaking Mark''s hand. "Learned a lot? How so?"

    "It inspired me to lead my family andpany like Don Corleone," Mark admitted with a grin. "Though I''ll skip the, uh, crueler aspects."

    "Yeah, because if you didn''t, we''d be trading blows in a cell, not shaking hands in an office," Arthur quipped.

    Markughed. "Too right."

    Arthur smoothly changed gears. "So, I hear you''re interested in acquiring the licensing rights to my book?"

    "Your book?" Mark echoed, catching the emphasis.

    Arthur gestured to himself. "Isn''t it obvious? I wrote it."

    Mark''s eyebrows shot up. "For real? You wrote ''Harry Potter''?"

    "You doubting me?" Arthur asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

    "No- no, of course not," Mark backpedaled. "Just... surprised, is all."

    Mark couldn''t hide his surprise. The book he''d grown to love was written by the demon standing before him.

    Unable to contain himself, he blurted out, "I''m thrilled to meet the author of Harry Potter. I''ve been dying to ask - when''s the next booking? I''ve been imagining plots since I finished the first one."

    Arthur chuckled, gently steering the conversation back on track. "Maybe we should tackle those licensing rights first?"

    "Ah, right, of course," Mark said, a bit flustered. "I''d love to acquire distribution rights for the Leaf Kingdom, Wales, and Empirica."

    Arthur''s eyebrows rose, impressed. "That''s quite a reach. What''s yourpany called?"

    "Stark Quill Publishing," Mark replied with a hint of pride. "Based in my hometown in the Leaf Kingdom."

    Recognition shed across Arthur''s face. "Stark Quill? You own that? Well, no wonder."

    Mark nodded, eager to move forward. "Shall we discuss the licensing rights?"

    "By all means," Arthur agreed.

    Mark couldn''t help but gush a bit more. "I read the book a few weeks back, and I haven''t been able to stop thinking about it. The secret magic school, privileged kids from magical families slipping through walls to catch a train - it''s just... fascinating. I''m not even sure I have the words to describe how it made me feel."

    Arthur smiled, clearly pleased by Mark''s enthusiasm. "I can see the book really resonated with you."

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    I never expected "Harry Potter" to catch the eye of someone owning a major publishing house with reach across both Evros and Empirican Continents. Talk about a pleasant surprise.

    As Markid out his initial offer, I couldn''t help but chuckle. "I thought you liked the book? This offer seems... average at best."

    Mark''s smile didn''t waver. "It''s business, Mr. Morningstar. I do like the book, but liking something and betting money on its sess are two different things. Everyone''s taste differs, after all."

    "Fair point," I conceded. "But if it impressed you, a man I assume has read hundreds of books, you must know it''s something special. Doesn''t it deserve a better offer?"

    Mark proved a tough nut to crack. I even tried using {Heartstrings} to sway him, but the man''s will was stronger than I anticipated. He kept pushing that average offer.

    But two can y at that game. I dug in my heels, ready to negotiate for days or weeks if necessary. I wasn''t about to let "Harry Potter" go for anything less than it deserved.

    Two days of back-and-forthter, Mark finally caved. His new offer was music to my ears.

    He proposed a 15% royalty on all book sales, along with a hefty upfront advance of 80,000 dors. The deal included exclusive distribution rights for Leaf Kingdom, Wales, and Empirica for 5 years, with amitment to publish at least 100,000 copies in the first print run. As a cherry on top, he threw in an option for first refusal on future books in the series.

    Now that''s more like it. Seeing Mark''s resigned but respectful nod as heid out these terms, I knew I''d won this round.

    Thinking about it, I can see why Mark was willing to put that kind of offer on the table. After all, "Harry Potter" had already raked in tens of thousands of dors in the Morningstar Kingdom alone, and that''s just in a few months.

    Truth is, there''s no official sales data out there. I''ve been so caught up in filming that I never got around to announcing exact figures. I''m the only one who really knows how well the book''s doing. Because of that, "Harry Potter" hasn''t made it into those magazines or newspapers that list bestsellers.

    But word''s getting around. Some magazines have started making estimates based on the book''s growing poprity. It''s all word-of-mouth at this point, but that kind of buzz? It''s priceless.

    I''ve got a feeling Mark''s done his homework. He must have sniffed out the potential, which exins why he''s willing to put up that kind of money. He''s not just buying a book; he''s investing in a phenomenon.

    It''s funny, really. Here I am, sitting on what could be the next big thing in publishing, and most people don''t even know it yet. But Mark? He sees it. And that''s why he''s ready to bet big.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    A few days after Arthur wrapped up his film project, word of itspletion spread like wildfire through the restless media outlets.

    Headlines began popping up everywhere, not just about Arthur''s film, but also about major studios trying topete:

    "Arthur Morningstar Completes His Film¡ªTitan Pictures Announces Simultaneous Completion of Their Ambitious Project"

    "Titan Pictures'' Ambitious Movie, Filmed at Their Dwarven-Built VFX Studio¡ªA Copy of Ex-Prince Arthur''s Hellfire Studio Using Advanced Mechanics and Technologies¡ªOfficially Completed"

    "Titan Pictures Asserts Their Uing Film Will Surpass The Lord of the Rings, With Rumors Suggesting Executives Are nning to Set the Release Date to Coincide with Ex-Prince Arthur''s Third Film."

    Arthur''s eyes caught these headlines. Reading further, he learned that Titan Pictures'' movie was supposedly an epic tale, also revolving around ancient artifacts and drawing inspiration from elven history.

    "Don''t tell me they''re following in ''Lord of the Rings'' footsteps," Arthur muttered to himself, skimming the premise. But even if that was the case, it didn''t faze him.

    Klein approached, curiosity evident in his voice. "Boss, have you heard about Titan Pictures?"

    Arthur shrugged dismissively. "Don''t care about them."

    "Word is, they''re aiming topete directly with our film."

    Arthur sighed, "Guess they''re still sore that their smear campaign against ''Lord of the Rings'' backfired." Changing the subject, he added, "By the way, did you finish signing those actors I mentioned?"

    "Yeah," Klein nodded, "Raymond Crow - who yed the hated Carlo, Kyle Brook who was Luca Brasi, Charles Flirt who acted as Sonny, and several others from Demonfather are all signed with our agency without any issues."

    "Good work," Arthur nodded, his mind already moving on to the next challenge.

 Chapter 94: Talents

    <h4>Chapter 94: Talents</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    My next move? Starting my own recordbel. And no, this isn''t some spur-of-the-moment idea.

    For weeks now, I''ve been plotting this. It all started when I caught wind of some big-name music stars using their clout to turn fans against my films. Well, two can y at that game.

    The n? Build my own stable of stars, ones who''ll encourage their fans to support Hellfire Studio. These major studios might be industry behemoths, but I''ve got an ace up my sleeve - a whole world of entertainment knowledge from my previous life, music included.

    Even while knee-deep in my film project, I''ve had my newly hired scout teambing the streets for demon and elf talent.

    I gave them clear instructions on the kind of talent I''m after.

    Now, after weeks of searching, they''ve rounded up a few dozen potentials. Time to see what they''ve got.

    I arrive at the studio, greeted by the scout team. "Where are the talents?" I ask Leo, the feline demon heading up the operation. Guy''s got a tail and cat ears - hard to miss.

    "Any minute now, boss," Leo assures me.

    I nod, settling in with a magazine while I wait. A few minutester, our potential stars finally grace us with their presence.

    "Let them perform, one by one," I instruct.

    Leo nods, shouting to the group, "Line up, one at a time!"

    Looking over the crowd, I see mostly young demons and elves. There''s a rebellious glint in their eyes that I recognize all too well. No surprise they kept us waiting.

    "Guys," a cocky fiend demon pipes up, "the cat says line up like good little boys. Should we y along?"

    An elf snorts. "Who''d listen to that mangy furball?"

    "We''re here to be famous artists, not obedient puppies!" another demon chimes in.

    A chorus of "Yeah!" follows, apanied by smug grins all around.

    Leo turned to me, his tail twitching nervously. "These are the talents you asked for, boss." Poor guy looked like he was expecting a scolding.

    The rest of the team wasn''t much better, all worried faces and fidgety hands.

    I just smiled. "Rx, guys. You''ve done good."

    Sure, these kids were a pain in the ass, but that''s exactly what I was after. Demons and elves with a rebellious streak who could carry a tune? Perfect recipe for some grunge stars.

    "You lot are pathetic," a voice cut through the chaos. "No wonder nobody likes you."

    It was a blond demon, eyeing his fellow talents with disgust. "If you can''t even line up, just leave. Stop wasting everyone''s time."

    That got their attention.

    "Oh? The runt''s got something to say?"

    "Brave words, little man."

    You could practically feel the tension in the air. But this blond kid? He had the same fire as the others, just... smarter about it. Interesting.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    "Looking for a beat down, brat?" One of the bigger demons cracked his knuckles.

    The blond didn''t even flinch. "Beat me? Please. I''m here to be an artist, not a punching bag. You want to be my hurdle? I''ll take you all on."

    Before things could escte, Arthur spoke up. "The kid''s right."

    All eyes turned to him. Arthur stood, his gaze suddenly ice-cold. "Don''t want to y by the rules? There''s the door. You''re not stars yet, so quit acting like divas."

    "No wonder your family doesn''t like you¡ª" a demon started, but he never finished. One moment he was sneering, the next he was a crumpled heap against the wall.

    Everyone froze. Arthur had barely moved, just a flick of his wrist. Wind magic, powerful enough to toss a grown demon like a rag doll.

    The message was clear: Arthur Morningstar wasn''t someone to mess with.

    Arthur''s eyes were cold as ice. "Don''t even think about provoking me." His gaze swept over the crowd. "You really wouldn''t like the consequences."

    The talents swallowed hard, eyeing the demon who''d dared mention Arthur''s family. Seems they''d underestimated the ''weak'' ex-prince. That disy of magic had them rethinking their assumptions real quick.

    "So... you lining up or what?" Arthur asked, his tone deceptively calm.

    Like magic, the talents fell into line. The scout team looked on, amazed at the sudden obedience. Can''t me the kids though - they were just as rattled by Arthur''s show of power.

    "Now, let''s see what you''ve got!" Arthur dered, and the performances began.

    One by one, the demons took center stage. Jazz and bebop filled the air - popr genres among these rebellious types. Some even brought instruments, forming impromptu bands.

    "Doo doo doo," a demon started, snapping his fingers to the beat.

    Arthur watched, silent and scrutinizing. Then came the blond demon''s turn.

    The moment he opened his mouth,ughter erupted. His voice was rough, husky, unpolished - a far cry from the smooth tones before him.

    Leo leaned in, concerned. "Should we stop him, boss? Your ears must be bleeding."

    "No, no. Let him finish." Surprisingly, Arthur seemed intrigued.

    As the blond wrapped up, his face burned with embarrassment. His fellow talents were still snickering, and he braced himself for more humiliation.

    "What''s your name, kid?" Arthur asked, sounding older than his 16 years.

    "James ze," the blond replied, his voice a mix of defiance and resignation.

    "James ze..." Arthur''s smile had a hint of something. He turned to Leo. "Get this kid signed to our agency."

    Everyone''s jaws dropped, James included.

    Leo blinked. "Him, boss? You sure?"

    "He''s exactly what I''m after," Arthur said, cool as you like.

    "And the rest?" Leo nced at the other talents, all nervous energy and fidgety hands.

    Arthur gave them a once-over. "Send ''em packing. Didn''t do it for me."

    "What?"

    "But we sang better than this punk!" They pointed at James, faces twisted.

    "It is what it is," Arthur said, meeting their eyes. "You really want to argue?"

    That shut them up quick, but you could practically hear the curses in their heads.

    "Show ''em out," Arthur told Leo and the team.

    Once the reject parade cleared out, James turned to Arthur. "Why me?"

    Arthur smiled. "You''ve got something I''m looking for."

    "Something you''re looking for?" James furrowed his brow.

    "Yes," Arthur paused, "Your voice."

    "My voice..." James echoed, still not getting it.

    Since he was a kid, his unpolished, raspy singing voice had been nothing but trouble. Whenever he mentioned his dream of being a music star, people would shut him down. "Find another dream, kid."

    "You won''t be a music star with that voice."

    James looked at Arthur, puzzled. "What does my voice have that the others didn''t?" He couldn''t wrap his head around why Arthur would pick him over the rest.

    Instead of answering, Arthur asked, "What''s your dream, kid?"

    "To be a music star," James said, no hesitation.

    "Then go for it," Arthur said. "I don''t give a damn what others told you about your voice. Your luck''s just changed. I''m gonna help make that dream happen."

    James felt something in his chest. Funny, the exiled prince being the first to believe in him.

    "Leo''ll sort out the details for you. Once that''s done, swing by my office. Got a music style I want you to try out," Arthur said, his smile a bit cryptic.

    James nodded, eyes bright with anticipation. His luck was finally turning around. As Leo came back to fetch him, Arthur found himself alone in the studio.

    "Star search - check," Arthur muttered, his mind already racing ahead. "Wonder how that Horn Kingdom move''sing along."

 Chapter 95: Breaking News

    <h4>Chapter 95: Breaking News</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I''ve been milking my past life knowledge dry, trying to optimize these damn taxes. "Lord of the Rings" hit it big, and suddenly everyone wants a piece of the pie. But I know when it''s time to pack up and move on.

    This whole relocation n kicked off when Lucy pped that film tax on the kingdom. Turns out, moving apany''s a real pain in the ass. Been at it for months, and the paperwork''s endless.

    Even roped in Anubis, that mob boss, to grease some wheels. Fat lot of good that did.

    Picked Horn Kingdom ''cause it''s a stone''s throw from Morningstar and way more business-friendly. Plus, with all that bad blood between us and Thorn Kingdom, Horn was the obvious choice.

    Getting those Horn Kingdom business permits''s been like pulling teeth, but it should be moving along by now. Still, officially cutting ties with Morningstar? That''s gonna take a while.

    Sometimes I wonder if all this hassle''s worth it. But then I think about Lucy and her greedy tax schemes, and I know I''m making the right call. Just gotta keep pushing forward.

    Been putting my past life knowledge to good use, optimizing taxes left and right. Invested in bonds, shifted assets to Horn Kingdom - ce is a goldmine of advantages. No Value Added Tax? It''s like they''re begging for businesses to set up shop.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The next day, Arthur had just finished briefing James on his musical vision when a familiar face showed up.

    "Long time no see. How''s everything shaping up in Horn Kingdom?" Arthur eyed the demon before him.

    It was Richard Yu, the Tax Specialist from Horn Kingdom who''d been juggling Arthur''s assets and orchestrating the big move. They''d first crossed paths a few months back, right after "The Demonfather" hit it big.

    One meeting to hash out ns, then Richard vanished back to Horn Kingdom.

    Since then, Arthur has only been able tomunicate with him through letters.

    But damn if the guy hadn''t proven his worth. Not only was he wrangling the move''s paperwork nightmare, but he''d also been a whiz at optimizing the "Lord of the Rings" box office taxes. Sure, Arthur''s past life knowledge hadid the groundwork, but Richard and his team? They were making it happen.

    "Mr. Morningstar," Richard nodded, all business. "After months of pushing paper, we''ve finally got the green light."

    Arthur''s eyes lit up. "About time."

    Richard hesitated, then asked, "Not to overstep, but... how''s the royal family going to take you skipping town?"

    Arthur could see the fear in Richard''s eyes. Guy was terrified of ruffling royal feathers.

    "Don''t sweat it," Arthur said with a reassuring smile. "The royals washed their hands of me a long time ago. I''m just another schmuck looking for greener pastures."

    Richard nodded, sweat still beading on his forehead. "Now we just need your local government''s stamp of approval, and you''re set for Horn Kingdom."

    Arthur nodded. "So my only hurdle is telling Morningstar authorities I''m skipping town." He eyed Richard. "You''re helping with that too, right?"

    Richard squirmed. "Sorry, Mr. Morningstar. Can''t touch anything in Morningstar. My services stop at Horn''s borders."

    "Still scared of my family, huh?" Arthur chuckled.

    "You''ll need to hire your own legal team here," Richard said, not budging.

    "Rx, I''m just messing with you," Arthur grinned, watching Richard''s shoulders sag in relief.

    Days ticked by. Arthur''s local government applications inched forward. He sat through interviews, his legal team battling the paperwork beast of regtions.

    Then the media caught wind of it all. Headlines red about Arthur''s ns to ditch the kingdom.

    Lucy stormed in, eyes zing. "What''s this about you leaving? You''re just abandoning your family''s home?"

    Arthur met her re head-on. "Since when do you care? I''m not family anymore, remember?"

    Lucy faltered. Arthur pressed on, "When I asked for help, you said I wasn''t a prince anymore. No favors for exiles, right?" He shrugged. "So now I''m moving Hellfire''s HQ to Horn Kingdom."

    Lucy stood there, speechless. There wasn''t a damn thing she could do about it.

    As she left, Arthur couldn''t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. The tables had turned, and for once, he held all the cards.

    The next day, Lucy tried to throw a wrench in Arthur''s ns. Getting approval was like pulling teeth, but Arthur''s legal team was working overtime. Plus, with the media''s eyes on everything, Morningstar couldn''t risk scaring off other businesses by ying dirty.

    For once in his life, Arthur found himself thankful for the nosy media. Sure, they probably wanted to paint him as the bad guy, but they''d identally made his exit a whole lot smoother. The royal family couldn''t flex their muscle without spooking the whole kingdom''s economy.

    Lucy, not one to give up easy, went straight to daddy dearest. "Father, are we really just letting Arthur walk away like this?"

    King Luke snorted. "Are you using that head of yours? Stop him, and we''ll have every business and investor running for the hills. You want to tank the whole economy?"

    "But... we''re just going to let Arthur and his cash cow films go?" Lucy pressed.

    "Hmph," Luke grunted. "One little Hellfire Studio doesn''t make or break an industry." He waved a dismissive hand. "Besides, he can''t keep churning out hits forever."

    "There are these behemoth studios in the industry like Titan from Evros and others that are crafting films. They''ll surely surpass Hellfire," Luke said, gesturing at the newspapers strewn across his desk.

    Lucy still looked uneasy. Lord Vermillion, kneeling beside her, chimed in, "The world''s changing rapidly, Your Highness. Arthur won''t be the only one with a VFX studio for long. Other studios are swiftly catching up. Even our local major studio is constructing their own VFX setup. They''ll be producing films as profitable as ''Lord of the Rings'' in no time."

    King Luke nodded, "Precisely. Don''t fret about taxing films. There are plenty of other studios'' pictures you can levy for revenue."

    Lucy mulled it over, finally epting the inevitable. "So we''re just letting Arthur depart."

    "He''s grown arrogant with two sessful films, Your Highness," Lord Vermillion added. "But he''ll face difficulties soon enough. Mark my words, he''ll return seeking our aid before long."

    ***

    Arthur''s n to leave Morningstar hit the headlines like a thunderbolt. The Lava Brothers and Bryan Brothers, Hellfire''s partners, came rushing to confirm the news straight from the source.

    When Arthur confirmed it, Fart couldn''t hide his concern. "Mr. Morningstar, we haven''t even seen your third film yet. Are you nning to release it in Horn Kingdom first?"

    Ray, Fart''s brother, looked just as nervous.

    "The film''s still in editing, so I can''t show it to you yet," Arthur exined. "As for the release? Yeah, Horn Kingdom might get first dibs."

    Fart and Ray fell silent, their worry palpable. They''d grown fond of Hellfire Studios, not just for the quality films, but for the hefty profits.

    Arthur, sensing their unease, smiled reassuringly. "Rx. I''m changing addresses, not partnerships."

    "You''ll still release your movies here?" Ray asked, surprised.

    "What do you think?" Arthur chuckled. "New home doesn''t mean I''m abandoning this market."

    Fart furrowed his brow. "What''s the point of moving then? Your films will still be taxed here."

    "Yeah, but not as heavily," Arthur exined. "They''ll tax me as a foreign entity now - standard rate, not the local gouging. Foreign films have different tax obligations."

    "You''re giving up the kingdom''s incentives for local production?" Ray asked.

    "Yeah. They didn''t do much for me anyway," Arthur shrugged.

    And that was the truth. Arthur had yet to see these so-called government incentives - or maybe his family was intentionally withholding them. Either way, it only strengthened his resolve to move out.

 Chapter 96: Horn Kingdom welcomes the Hellfire

    <h4>Chapter 96: Horn Kingdom wees the Hellfire</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    In the studio meeting room, I could see the worry etched on my employees'' faces. Moving kingdoms wasn''t sitting well with them.

    Klein, one of my key crew members, spoke up first. "Boss, do we really need to move? Aren''t we doing fine here?"

    Others chimed in, their concerns tumbling out:

    "We''re thriving here, aren''t we?"

    "What about the VFX Studio? We just leaving it behind?"

    "I''ve got family here, boss."

    I let them air it all out before sighing. "Look, moving out''s the best y for ourpany long-term. Our future films won''t get gouged by local taxes."

    Then I dropped the magic words: "It means better pay for all of you."

    Their eyes lit up like Christmas trees.

    "Without that hefty local tax, I can pad your paychecks," I said, smiling.

    Suddenly, the move didn''t seem so bad to them.

    "As for the VFX studio, we''re selling it to Lava Brothers for four million," I added.

    That got them going again. "Sell it? Why?"

    "Can''t we still use it for filming?"

    I held up a hand. "Sure, we could use it. But if we film here, we''re back to ''local production'' and ''local taxation''. Kind of defeats the purpose of moving, doesn''t it?"

    Exining all this was draining, especially after wading through the move-out paperwork.

    The move to Horn Kingdom was set for my employees and actors. Fortunately, Horn seemed eager to wee us with open arms.

    At Hellfire Agency, my actors peppered me with questions about the relocation:

    "Are we leaving the kingdom too?"

    "What''s our future in Horn Kingdom?"

    Even Imkrag chimed in, "Boss, can I bring my family to Horn Kingdom?"

    I addressed their concerns, assuring them they could stay if they preferred. They''d just be working from the Hellfire "branch" here.

    But that didn''t sit well with them. They wanted to be at headquarters, not some branch office. In the end, they chose to follow me to Horn Kingdom, ready to risk it all.

    Later, Vivienne cornered me in my office, her interest piqued. "I''ming with you to Horn Kingdom. I''m dying to see your next move."

    "Curious about my ns, are you?" I couldn''t help but smile.

    "Of course. This move isn''t just for show," Vivienne said. "You''ve made history with two sessful films. I''m not about to let you out of my sight. Plus, I want in on your next project."

    I just smiled at her determination. Then Firfel dropped by, concern etched on her face. "Is relocating your entirepany really wise?"

    I nodded, conviction in my voice. "Yeah, it is."

    I gazed out the window of my office, my fingers tracing the expensive desk I''d bought just months ago. "As much as I want to stay in this familiar ce, I know that for mypany to grow, to dominate the entertainment industry, we need to move away from this kingdom. Away from my family."

    Firfel looked at me, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "Dominate the entertainment industry? You''ve got quite the ambition."

    I smiled, "Yeah."

    The {Entertainment System} wasn''t named that for nothing, and films were just the beginning.

    "But is Horn Kingdom really the best choice?" Firfel pressed. "It''s still technically part of Morningstar, even if it''s under Wales'' control. Are you really getting away from your family''s influence?"

    My smile widened. "That''s exactly the point. My family can''t touch Horn because it''s under Wales. And if Horn ever returns to my family''s control, I''ll be ready to relocate again."

    "You''re thinking ahead," Firfel said, impressed.

    "Of course," I nodded. "I''ve also chosen Horn because its entertainment industry, especially films, is more advanced than Morningstar''s. It''s the perfectunchpad for Hellfire Studio."

    My mind was racing, thinking about distributing "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" in Horn Kingdom. Sure, the film was made here in Morningstar and would still face local taxes, but that wasn''t a big concern. I never received any incentives anyway, so there were no incentive wbacks orpliance issues to worry about.

    Moving to Horn Kingdom was definitely the right call. At least there, I wouldn''t have to watch my dear sister Lucy siphon off my hard-earned cash.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Two weeks flew by in the blink of an eye. News spread like wildfire about Arthur Morningstar selling his VFX Studio to the Lava Brothers, and word got out that he''d secured help from the Horn government to start building a new VFX Studio in Horn City.

    Arthur and his team moved at breakneck speed. With the Horn Kingdom government''s backing and Richard Yu''s team smoothing the way, transferring assets from Morningstar to Horn went off without a hitch.

    Thanks to the short distance between Morningstar and Horn Kingdom, moving assets and relocating staff was a breeze.

    The day after their arrival at Horn Airport, Arthur and his team were greeted by a swarm of local demon reporters. The Righteous Film Studio executives, there to wee them to Horn City, the capital, found themselves pushed aside by the eager press.

    "Mr. Morningstar! Is it true you relocated due to unfair taxation on your films?"

    "Mr. Morningstar, sources say you''re releasing your third film here in Horn Kingdom. Can you confirm?"

    "Arthur, why Horn Kingdom? Why not Thorn? Is it because your family would''ve stopped you if you chose that demon kingdom?"

    Arthur chuckled wryly, "One at a time, gentlemen." He kept walking as his employees formed a protective barrier against the eager reporters. "I''ll answer your questions, but let''s keep it orderly."

    The reporters reined in their enthusiasm, and one asked if unfair taxation drove him out.

    "Yes, indeed," Arthur nodded, not bothering to deny it. His tone was light, almost joking. "I might as well have been the tax department''s favorite punching bag. They never missed a chance to take a bigger slice of my films'' earnings."

    His yful delivery left the reporters unsure if he was serious or not.

    One reporter pressed, "But isn''t it logical for higher-earning films to be taxed more?"

    Arthur breezed past him. "Next question."

    More questions poured out, and Arthur fielded them deftly. He expressed his optimism for his future in Horn Kingdom and answered a few more before airport security finally separated him from the press.

    Jerry Yan approached, looking apologetic. "I''m sorry about that, Mr. Morningstar."

    "No worries, Mr. Yan," Arthur smiled, straightening his suit. "I was expecting something like this."

    Jerry nodded and led Arthur and his team into the city.

    Later, Arthur met with Horn Kingdom officials who couldn''t stop praising "The Demonfather" and "Lord of the Rings." He noticed how these politicians seemed moreid-back than those in Morningstar, eager to rub elbows with someone of his aplishments.

    Later that day, Arthur inspected his new Hellfire Studio - a decent, if modest, building in Horn City.

    Richard Yu had snagged the building from the bankrupt "Legendary Dragon" studio, its sign still hanging as a ghostly reminder of past glory. Arthur recalled Legendary Dragon''s heyday as the premier martial arts filmmaker. But times changed, the genre grew crowded, and foreign films of all stripes gained traction. Legendary Dragon couldn''t keep up.

    As Arthur and his crew stepped into their new Hellfire Studio, the contrast with their former headquarters in Fend City''s cheap district was stark. This ce was a definite upgrade.

    The building gleamed with newness, all sleek lines and polished surfaces. It practically screamed ''high-end studio.'' Some crew members, still wide-eyed, wandered off to explore.

    "Hey, check out the restrooms!" someone called out. "They''re actually clean!"

    In another section, they discovered hot tubs, separate ones for men and women. This unexpected amenity seemed to lift the mood considerably.

    "Maybe this Horn Kingdom isn''t so bad after all," muttered a demon, eyeing the hot tub appreciatively.

    The initial unease about relocating to this unfamiliar ce, ruled by a foreign kingdom no less, began to dissipate. Grins reced frowns, and excited chatter filled the air.

 Chapter 97: Horn City

    <h4>Chapter 97: Horn City</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    It looks like my crew is adapting to our new headquarters in Horn City. They''re already making themselvesfortable, rxing in the studio''s hot tub as if they''ve been here for years.

    I didn''t stop at just acquiring the studio. I also purchased a three-story dorm building nearby for my crew to live in. It''s more than spacious enough for everyone. For the actors who came along, I bought the top few floors of an apartmentplex. I''ll be living in the penthouse at the very top.

    I considered buying a house here, but the prices are quite steep. A standard house costs around 60,000 dors, while luxury homes range from 100,000 to 300,000 dors. Looking at these prices, I decided to be more economical.

    Yes, I have millions in my bank ount, but it''s wiser to be cautious with spending, at least until my third film, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," is released in cinemas and starts generating profits.

    This is especially important since I''m still in the process of transferring my money to the local banks in Horn Kingdom. Luckily, there''s a branch of a Morningstar banks here in Horn City, which helps, but I''d prefer to have all my funds transferred to a local Horn City bank eventually.

    On the bright side, construction of the new VFX Studio is already underway. Horn City''s construction equipment seems more efficient than what I''m used to. The old arena is gradually being transformed into my new VFX Studio.

    While the new VFX Studio won''t have the ghosts that my former VFX Studio in Morningstar had, it''s not a problem. Why? Because I actually brought the ghosts with me. They''re incredibly useful and can assist with production in numerous ways. I wasn''t about to let them go so easily.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The following day, Arthur set out to explore Horn City''s notable spots with Firfel, Vivienne, Shafel, Imkrag, and his other actors. His crew ventured off on their own, their excited expressions betraying their eagerness to discover this part of Morningstar Kingdom that felt so foreign to them.

    Jerry Yan, an executive from Righteous Film Studio, offered to guide Arthur and his group around the city.

    Their first stop was the bustling market. Arthur and hispanions noticed how it outshone the one in Morningstar''s Fend City. Jerry introduced them to Horn street foods, some exotic enough to turn Firfel and the others'' stomachs. Arthur and Jerry shared augh at their reactions.

    As they continued exploring, the group found themselves genuinely enjoying the experience. They visited Victory Harbour, alive with ferries and cargo ships. The famous "Twinkle Ferry" caught their eye, shuttling passengers between the Dragon penins and Horn.

    Dragon was part of the Horn Special Administrative Region, situated on Morningstar''s southern coast.

    Boarding the Twinkle Ferry, they crossed to Dragon and explored its Walled City. Arthur observed Firfel and the others having a great time, snapping pictures with their Impact portable cameras.

    They even caught Arthur in an embarrassing moment, scratching his butt. The girls couldn''t stop giggling at the photo.

    "You''re all having way too much fun with this," Arthur said, his tone a mix of amusement and mock exasperation.

    Later, the group visited Sandy District in Dragon. The bustling area featured a lively shopping district where Firfel, Vivienne, and Shafel eagerly browsed the stalls.

    "Look at that, Mr. Morningstar," Jerry said, pointing to a nearby stall.

    Arthur nced over, seeing oval or pear-shaped pouches. "What are those?"

    Jerry nudged Arthur, gesturing towards Firfel and the others shopping in the distance. "Come on, don''t y innocent. Surely you know what they''re for. Very useful for your love life."

    "What are you talking about?" Arthur asked, genuinely puzzled.

    Jerry whispered, "Those are sheep dders."

    "Sheep dders?" Arthur repeated, still confused.

    Jerry sighed, realizing Arthur truly didn''t know. "It''s what a man needs in bed! They''re... protection!"

    Arthur''s eyes widened as understanding dawned. "What? Why are you rmending that to me?"

    "Isn''t it obvious?" Jerry pointed at Firfel. "The news says that elf Firfel is your lover, right?"

    Arthur was speechless.

    "Aren''t you using protection?" Jerry''s eyes lit up. "Or maybe you don''t need it-"

    Arthur cut him off, covering Jerry''s mouth. "Shut up," he whispered, ensuring Firfel couldn''t hear. "We''re not in a rtionship!"

    Jerry nodded, though his eyes showed he didn''t quite believe it.

    "Anyway," Arthur said, expression perplexed, "Sheep dders for protection? Really?"

    Jerry chuckled. "Why not? They''re better than modern rubber ones. More natural and thin."

    "Who''d use that? Who even thought of it?" Arthur asked incredulously.

    Jerry was surprised by Arthur''s ignorance. "You don''t know? Sheep dders are an ancient form of protection, invented by the Romans themselves."

    Arthur shook his head, marveling at this unexpected history lesson in the middle of their city tour.

    ***

    Arthur and hispanions spent the entire day familiarizing themselves with Horn Kingdom, visiting various locations before finally returning to Horn City. The day had been tiring, but Firfel and the others were clearly satisfied with their excursion.

    Vivienne turned to Arthur, her eyes bright with excitement. "We should do this again sometime. It was so enjoyable!"

    Arthur smiled warmly. "I''m d you liked it."

    Firfel chimed in, "This kingdom may be small, but it''s more vibrant than Morningstar."

    Shafel nodded in agreement.

    After chatting with them for a while, Arthur saw them off to their new homes in the apartmentplex.

    Left alone with Arthur, Jerry broached a new topic. "Mr. Morningstar, about your third film... Is the editingplete? The other executives are eager to see it."

    Arthur nodded. "It''s nearly finished. Should be done in a few days. The move dyed things a bit."

    "I understand," Jerry said, unable to hide his anticipation. "I hope to see it soon."

    Arthur could see Jerry''s eagerness, and he understood why. After all, his first two films had each grossed hundreds of millions of dors at the box office.

    They continued their conversation in the studio lobby for a few more minutes before Jerry took his leave.

    At 5 pm, Arthur headed to a warehouse under his control. This secretive location housed hisputer research team, who had arrived in Horn City a few days ahead of the main group.

    Upon entering, Arthur was greeted by his tired but dedicated team, their eye bags testament to their hard work.

    "How are you guys holding up?" Arthur asked.

    Drake responded, "Everything''s on track, boss."

    Josh added, "We''re still adjusting, but it''s not a major issue."

    Arthur nodded, "The Electronics Expo is approaching fast. How''s the basic operating systeming along?"

    "Nearlyplete, boss," Drake reported.

    After a few more questions and words of encouragement, Arthur left for his penthouse via taxi.

    Returning to his apartment, Arthur felt satisfied with how smoothly everything was settling. His thoughts turned to Horn''s entertainment industry, which he''d observed was more advanced than Morningstar''s in many aspects.

    He saw numerous opportunities to establish himself in this new market. The key difference, he realized, was the foreign influence prevalent in Horn.

    Major studios from Empirica and Evros held considerable sway here. Horn''s demon citizens had developed a taste for foreign content, though their preference for martial arts films remained strong.

    Foreign investors, noticing this trend, poured money into martial arts productions. However, the genre''s once-unshakeable dominance was gradually eroding.

    These investors had attempted to diversify, introducing western films and other genres. While these efforts gained some traction in Horn, they hadn''t quite reached the tipping point.

    Only a select few foreign or domestic films truly captured widespread attention. But Arthur''s own productions, "The Demonfather" and "Lord of the Rings," had shaken things up. They''d brought significant change to the industry as a whole and altered foreign investors'' perceptions.

 Chapter 98: Announcement

    <h4>Chapter 98: Announcement</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Two days after exploring the city, on May 11, 1272, Arthur finallypleted editing "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly." He promptly invited the Righteous Film Studio executives for a viewing.

    Rayleigh Wang, the 45-year-old Monkey Demon CEO of Righteous Film Studio, greeted Arthur with unexpected warmth. "Delighted to meet the mastermind behind Demonfather, Arthur Morningstar!" He enveloped Arthur in a bear hug as if they were old friends.

    "Uh... Likewise," Arthur responded, slightly ufortable.

    A nce at Jerry Yan''s face told Arthur to just go with it. Jerry seemed resigned to his boss''s overfamiliar behavior.

    As they walked to the private theatre, Rayleigh chattered incessantly. "I''m beyond excited about this third film of yours, Arthur. I''ve been losing sleep wondering what His Highness has created after Demonfather and Lord of the Rings."

    He continued without pause, "Will it be as profitable? I certainly hope so. Otherwise, wouldn''t all this anticipation and our warm wee be a waste?"

    Rayleigh''s bluntness was startling, especially given Arthur''s presence. Only after Jerry''s nudge did Rayleigh catch himself. "Hahaha - my apologies," he said, not sounding particrly sorry.

    Arthur just shook his head as they reached the theatre.

    "Atst, the moment of truth!" Rayleigh announced shamelessly.

    Throughout the exchange, Arthur maintained hisposure, adapting to Rayleigh''s entric personality.

    He realized that navigating such characters would be crucial in establishing himself in Horn''s entertainment industry.

    As they settled into their seats, Jerry leaned close to Arthur, whispering, "I apologize for my boss''s behavior. He''s always like this."

    "Don''t worry about it. I understand," Arthur replied with a nod.

    Jerry seemed relieved by Arthur''s graciousness.

    The studio lights dimmed, and the projector whirred to life, its beam hitting the white wall.

    "This is going to be interesting!" Rayleigh muttered, while Jerry and the other executives shook their heads at their boss''s antics.

    The Hellfire Studio intro appeared, followed by the film''s opening.

    Although Arthur had previously exined that the film would be set in Empirica''s Wild West, Jerry, Rayleigh, and the others were still caught off guard by the unmistakable Western ir.

    As the soundtrack began, Arthur smiled, recalling how he''d managed to produce it amid thepany''s relocation challenges.

    The opening sequence introduced "The Ugly" Tuco, "The Bad" Angel Eyes, and "The Good" Blondie.

    Initially, Jerry, Rayleigh, and the executives were skeptical of the Western-style film. Past attempts by demons to adapt this genre had failed miserably, leading many to believe martial arts films were safer bets.

    They expected Arthur''s third film to follow suit. However, as the story unfolded, they found themselves unexpectedly engrossed, only realizing how immersed they''d be as the film neared its end.

    The executives became especially thrilled and tense during the final standoff between Blondie, Tuco, and Angel Eyes.

    As the powerful, dramatic orchestra piece with its sweeping melodies yed, the three characters eyeing each other with hands on their guns, Jerry and the others sat on edge.

    Rayleigh, gripping his helpless subordinate''s arm, dered, "If Blondie and Tuco kill each other, I''ll hate this film forever."

    His words left the executives unsure whether tough or not.

    Rayleigh''s investment in Blondie and Tuco''s rtionship was obvious, mirroring Jerry and the others'' feelings. Arthur smiled, noting their engrossment.

    When the shooting began, the audience held their breath, half-expecting to see Blondie or Tuco fall while Angel Eyes emerged victorious.

    Instead, Blondie and Tuco jointly shot Angel Eyes.

    "Hell yeah!" Rayleigh cheered, raising both his and his subordinate''s hands.

    "It''s not over yet, boss," the subordinate reminded him helplessly.

    Rayleigh tensed again as Blondie and Tuco eyed each other warily.

    "No, no. They won''t shoot each other. They''re friends," Rayleigh muttered, though unsure given the two charactersplicated love-hate rtionship.

    Relief washed over Rayleigh and the others when Blondie shot Angel Eyes again, ensuring his demise.

    The film concluded with Tuco struggling, hung from a tree by a rope, before Blondie saved him.

    As the credits rolled, Rayleigh apuded enthusiastically. "Very good! Very good!"

    Rayleigh''s enthusiastic pping continued, with Jerry and the other executives joining in, their eyes now fixed on Arthur.

    "I love it!" Rayleigh eximed, approaching Arthur. "Your Highness, I won''t let you down. I''ll do everything to distribute this film across Horn Kingdom!"

    Arthur smiled, gently reminding him, "Please, no royal titles. I''m an exiled prince."

    Rayleighughed heartily. "Exiled or not, you''re royalty to me. At least in filmmaking, you''re certainly a prince."

    Arthur, still ufortable with Rayleigh''s quirks, steered the conversation, "Let''s discuss the distribution details."

    Rayleigh nodded eagerly. "Although the number of cinemas here in Horn Kingdom can''tpare to Morningstar Kingdom, arge portion of our poption can afford to watch films," Rayleigh exined. "I can release the film in about four hundred cinemas, which is almost 90% of what Horn Kingdom has. Plus, I also have reach in the Kingdom of Choson and Japon in East Watch - in total, the film will be screened in thousands of cinemas."

    Arthur was taken aback. "Righteous Film Studio has reach over Choson and Japon?" He nced at Jerry, seeking confirmation.

    Rayleigh cleared his throat. "Allow me to exin, Your Highness. I have a half-brother, also my business partner, who owns a studio in Choson. My aunt lives in Japon, and her husband owns a studio there too. He''s also my business partner."

    Arthur was genuinely impressed by the man''s connections.

    Even his "Lord of the Rings" and "Demonfather" had failed to reach Japon Empire and Choson Dynasty - not because these nationscked free trade, but because they harbored animosity towards the Morningstar Kingdom.

    It seemed Arthur could finally break through to these nations with Righteous Film Studio''s help.

    ***

    Two dayster, Arthur finalized an agreement with Righteous Film Studio. On May 14, 1272, Hellfire Studio and Righteous Film Studio hosted an event at the renowned Penins Hotel in Dragon Penins to announce their film''s release date.

    The high-profile gathering drew notable figures from the entertainment industry. Reporters indulged inplimentary meals and drinks, adding to the festive atmosphere.

    To Arthur, it felt more like a celebration than a formal announcement. He observed that such events seemedmonce in Horn Kingdom''s entertainment scene - a party-like atmosphere to entertain guests and reporters before revealing a film''s release date.

    This approach, Arthur noted, appeared to be one of the foreign influences Horn citizens had adopted and made their own.

    As he surveyed the room, Arthur couldn''t help but reflect on how different this was from his experiences in Morningstar. The blend of business and pleasure, the easy mingling of industry insiders and media - it all spoke to a more rxed, yet potentially more effective, way of doing things.

    ***

    Finally, Arthur faced the reporters, nked by his partners. He leaned into the mic and dered, "My third film, ''The Good, The Bad and the Ugly'' will hit theaters on May 25, 1272. Coincidentally, it''s also my birthday."

    The reporters immediately fired off questions. When asked about the film''s style, Arthur replied simply, "It''s a western."

    This revtion set the reporters'' minds whirring, articles practically writing themselves.

    The next day, headlines zed across newspapers:

    "Ex-Prince Arthur''s Uing Third Film Set for May 25 Release¡ªExperts Predict Box Office Failure in Horn Kingdom Due to ''Western Style''"

    Horn citizens scoffed at the news. "Hmph. It''s bound to flop. Demon filmmakers have tried westerns before, and they''ve earned peanuts."

    More headlines followed:

    "Can ''The Good, The Bad and the Ugly'' Match Arthur''s Previous Blockbusters?"

    Then came a surprising news: Titan Pictures announced their film, "The Desired Crown," would also premiere in Horn Kingdom on May 25, 1272.

    This move seemed to confirm Titan Pictures'' intent to challenge Arthur''s third film, potentially splitting audience attention and cutting into his earnings by releasing on the same day.

 Chapter 99: Wild West Premier

    <h4>Chapter 99: Wild West Premier</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Across Horn Kingdom''s public spaces - bus stops, train stations, lobby cards - film posters for "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" and "The Desired Crown" vied for attention, their simultaneous release date fueling a promotional battle that caught the public eye.

    A demon, spotting a fallen poster, picked it up. It depicted three figures: a demon, a dwarf, and an elf. Below read the title: "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly".

    "Western style, huh?" The demon sneered, tossing the poster aside. "Bound to be trash like those Empirican westerns."

    This sentiment echoed throughout Horn Kingdom. Most believed "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" would flop, given that even Empirican western style films struggled to captivate Horn citizens.

    Arthur''s third film faced widespread indifference. Demonfather fans, upon seeing the posters, often shook their heads in disappointment.

    "What a shame," one fan sighed. "If that exiled prince had made a Demonfather sequel, I''d be interested. But this?"

    Meanwhile, "The Desired Crown" garnered more attention. Its premise, reminiscent of "Lord of the Rings," intrigued many. Titan Pictures''vish promotional spending - renting expensive venues and stering the city with massive billboards - ensured the film was hard to ignore.

    In the capital, Titan Pictures'' high-quality poster for "The Desired Crown" dominated the city''srgest billboard. They''d outbid Arthur for this prime spot, along with key advertising sites across the city.

    Rayleigh often grumbled, "I despise Titan Pictures! Can''t they leave even one billboard for us?"

    Jerry sighed, "It''s just business, boss. Our hands are tied."

    "His Highness must be fuming at Titan Pictures," Rayleigh mused, feigning concern.

    Jerry, seeing through Rayleigh''s act, replied, "I just spoke with Arthur. He said he wouldn''t care if Titan Pictures rented the entire city."

    Rayleigh''s astonishment was genuine. "Does he care at all?"

    Jerry chuckled wryly, "I think Arthur''s just confident in his film."

    ***

    As days passed, the rivalry between Hellfire Studio, Righteous Film Studio, and Titan Pictures intensified.

    Finally, on May 25, 1271, both "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" and "The Desired Crown" was about to premier across Horn Kingdom.

    That early morning, Arthur turned 17. He celebrated his birthday alone in his penthouse, his mind likely on the day''s events toe.

    Meanwhile, in cinemas across the kingdom, "The Desired Crown" premiered to eager audiences. Excited chatter filled the air as people filed in:

    "I can''t wait. Hope it''s as good as ''Lord of the Rings''."

    "Hmph. Titan Pictures says it''s better than ''Lord of the Rings''. I believe them."

    "Yeah, I hope so too. Been waiting weeks for this, man."

    Long-time Titan Pictures fans were already dering the film''s superiority before it even started.

    They settled in with popcorn and drinks, anticipation high.

    But as the film progressed, their expectations slowly crumbled.

    From start to finish, "The Desired Crown" proved utterly mediocre. Not only did it fail to surpass "Lord of the Rings," it couldn''t even hold a candle to it.

    Audiences left spitting with disgust.

    An elf cursed as he exited, "Fucking trash. Nothing but a ''Lord of the Rings'' rip-off."

    Hispanion agreed, "Yeah. What''s with that protagonist Freya? Bing the crown''s protector, chased by enemies? It''s just ''Lord of the Rings'' with a crown instead of a ring!"

    The disappointment was palpable as viewers, once excited, now left the theaters feeling cheated and let down.

    After "The Desired Crown" screening, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" was up next. A few disgruntled viewers from the previous showing decided to stick around, buying tickets for the exiled prince''s third film.

    It seemed the Horn citizens had money to burn, willing to risk disappointment again after "The Desired Crown" let-down.

    While the western-style film didn''t draw the same crowds as its predecessor, curiosity about Arthur''s third offering after two hits ensured a decent turnout.

    The holdovers from "The Desired Crown" entered with low expectations, ready to bail early if needed.

    Yet as the film began with its catchy orchestral piece introducing Tuco, "The Ugly," the audience fell silent, intrigued.

    The introduction of Angel Eyes caught them off guard. Initially appearing upright, his merciless killing of a father and son sent chills through the viewers.

    When Angel Eyes murdered his employer, smothering him with a pillow before firing a bullet, the audience tensed. As he wasbeled "The Bad," someone piped up from the audience, loud enough for many to hear, "You don''t say."

    Laughter rippled through the cinema. Indeed, Angel Eyes was "bad" to the bone. The film''sbeling seemed almostically obvious.

    Without realizing it, the audience found themselves drawn deeper into the story. From Tuco''s introduction to Angel Eyes'' ruthlessness, and especially Blondie''s entrance as "The Good," they were hooked.

    Blondie and Tuco''s partnership in fooling the authorities and splitting the bounty drew chuckles from the crowd. Blondie''s sharpshooting skills particrly impressed them.

    However, Blondie''s morally ambiguous actions didn''t go unnoticed. Someone in the audience questioned, "If he''s ''The Good,'' why''s he tricking the police like that?"

    The question hung in the air, unanswered but adding to the film''s intrigue.

    What the audience did realize was that Blondie and Tuco were twopelling and humorous characters. The film they''d expected to be tense and serious turned out to have light, evenedic moments.

    Of course, Angel Eyes'' presence brought gravity to the story, especially in scenes showcasing his ruthlessness.

    The film masterfully alternated between the light-hearted antics of Blondie and Tuco and the serious, menacing presence of Angel Eyes.

    As the story progressed, Blondie and Tuco parted ways.

    Later, Tuco''s gun acquisition from a firearm store had the audience in stitches, particrly when he unceremoniously shoved the "Closed" sign onto the old shopkeeper.

    The film then ramped up the tension, with various characters gunning for Blondie. Yet, Blondie''s coolpetence in handling these threats kept the audience on the edge of their seats.

    When Blondie reunited with Tuco by the window, delivering the line "There''s two kinds of spurs," the audience chuckled. Tuco''s habit of making the Srus Faith''s "circle" sign added to their amusement.

    As minutes ticked by, tension built around Blondie and Tuco''s dangerous rtionship. Despite their funny dynamic, the threat of them killing each other loomedrge.

    The scene with a weakened Blondie in bed and Tuco''s ambiguous empathy struck a chord. Tuco''s line, "I have you, you have me," seemed genuine despite his crocodile tears.

    This scene evoked conflicting emotions in the audience - humor mixed with an undercurrent of something deeper. It was a novel experience for many, a film scene evoking suchplex feelings.

    Tuco''s persistent "circle" sign habit continued to drawughs, clearly an ingrained quirk of his character.

    Without realizing it, the audience had forgotten their disappointment with "The Desired Crown," fully immersed in "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" for hours.

    Tears began to flow as Tuco endured his beating. The scene''s impact was intensified by a group of musicians within the film, ying instruments that perfectly matched the brutal spectacle.

    The audience''s emotions were further stirred by the violinist in the scene, whose own eyes brimmed with tears as he yed with raw feeling. This diegetic music added ayer of realism and emotion that deeply affected the viewers.

    Gone were the light,edic moments between Blondie and Tuco. In their ce was a powerful, heart-wrenching scene that had many in the audience sniffling.

    An elf elder, choking back tears, muttered, "I didn''t expect that I would cry over an ugly criminal dwarf like this..." as he dabbed at his eyes.

    The sadness was palpable throughout the theater. The audience, caught off guard by the depth of their emotional response to a character they''d initially seen as merelyical, found themselves deeply moved by Tuco''s suffering.

 Chapter 100: Happy Birthday!

    <h4>Chapter 100: Happy Birthday!</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Following the emotional scene of Tuco''s beating, the film continued its tale of three men seeking confederate gold.

    Despite their earlier sympathy, the audience was reminded of Tuco''s true nature. His bathtub scene drove this home, with the ugly dwarf brazenly cleaning his teeth with bubbles.

    Tension mounted as a confident man aimed a gun at the seemingly vulnerable Tuco. The audience jolted in surprise when Tuco suddenly fired, his hidden gun concealed beneath the bubbling water.

    As his opponent tumbled to the ground, Tuco rose from the bath and fired again, coldly stating, "When you have to shoot, shoot. Don''t talk."

    This line, delivered with Tuco''s characteristic bluntness, resonated with the audience. Many found themselves secretly cheering for Tuco, appreciating how he remained true to his nature even when appearing defenseless.

    The scene showcased the film''s ability to continuously surprise the viewers, subverting expectations and keeping them engaged. It reinforced Tuco''splex character - capable of evoking both sympathy and admiration for his ruthless survival instincts.

    Before they knew it, the film approached its climax with the three men in a standoff.

    Many viewers anticipated Tuco and Angel Eyes teaming up against Blondie, given Tuco''s alliance with Angel Eyes and hisplicated rtionship with Blondie. The audience was uncertain which partnership was stronger - Blondie and Tuco''s or Tuco and Angel Eyes''.

    Relief washed over the crowd when Blondie and Tuco jointly shot Angel Eyes. A collective sigh echoed through the theater.

    The film''s conclusion, with Blondie once again saving Tuco from hanging, brought the story full circle. The audience recognized the return of Blondie and Tuco''s authority-scamming partnership.

    Only as the credits rolled did viewers realize the film had ended. Many found themselves wanting more, surprised by how quickly the time had passed.

    As they left the theater, conversations buzzed:

    "I can''t believe I sat through an entire western film."

    "Sat through? We watched the whole thing without getting bored!"

    "Ha! All I can say is it was way better than that Titan Pictures film!"

    The unexpected enjoyment of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" left the audience pleasantly surprised, especially inparison to their earlier disappointment with "The Desired Crown".

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Another birthday, another solitary celebration. I''m thinking of whipping up some favorites from my previous life - burgers, pizza, ''elf fries'' (this world''s version of French fries, named after the Moonlight Kingdom''s first elf king who invented them), carbonara, the works.

    Back when the royal family kept my allowance tight, I could only manage burgers and fries. Now, the world''s my oyster, culinarily speaking.

    But before I can indulge, there''s studio business to handle - namely, my third movie''s release.

    In my new office, Rayleigh Wang and Jerry Yan present the box office results. The paper shows we''ve sold a mere fifty thousand dors worth of tickets.

    "Hmm... Not bad..." I muse.

    Rayleigh''s not having it. "Not bad?" he sneers. "It''s abysmal! We''re in hundreds of theaters and this is all we''ve got?" Blunt as ever, this one.

    I set the paper aside. "Don''t worry, Mr. Wang. Our film will pick up steam."

    "How can you be sure?" Rayleigh practically lunges at me, thankfully intercepted by Jerry.

    "I''ve sunk a fortune into this, Your Highness! Do something!" Rayleigh''s actually tearing up now.

    Weird demon, indeed.

    "Uh... Your high- I mean, Mr. Morningstar," Jerry interjects, restraining Rayleigh. "My apologies. We should be going."

    He drags the tantrum-throwing Rayleigh out, looking utterly helpless.

    As the door closes behind them, I can''t help but chuckle. The day''s been... interesting, to say the least. Now, about that birthday feast...

    ***

    After buying ingredients, I returned to my penthouse. Opening the door, I was met with darkness.

    "Hmm?" Before I could process this, the room suddenly zed with fire magic. My eyes widened as I saw George, Firfel, Vivienne, Shafel, Imkrag, and others gathered there.

    "Happy Birthday!!!" They shouted, apanied by a shy magical light show. A big cake and various meals adorned the table.

    "What the..." I was genuinely surprised. It''s the first time anyone''s done this for me.

    In my previous life, I celebrated alone. In this one, my demon family was too cold to care, with probably only my youngest sister Apollonia showing any genuine concern.

    George chuckled, "Did you think we''d forget your birthday?"

    I could only smile in response.

    Firfel approached with a gift. "Happy birthday," she said warmly.

    "Oh, what''s this?" I opened it to find an expensive watch. "You shouldn''t have."

    "I know you like watches. I hope you like it," Firfel smiled.

    "I do. Thank you," I replied sincerely.

    Vivienne butted in, "Hey, don''t forget my gift." She thrust a package at me.

    "Okay, okay. Geez," I said, opening it to reveal a cute headband. "Do you take me for a girl or something?"

    Vivienne justughed at my reaction.

    Then there was George, presenting me with one of his weird inventions.

    As I looked around at these people who''d gone out of their way to celebrate me, I felt a warmth I hadn''t experienced in either of my lives. Maybe birthdays weren''t so bad after all.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Media outlets were having a field day with the box office results of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" and its rival "The Desired Crown."

    "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" pulled in a mere fifty thousand dors, promptlybeled a failure by newspaper articles. Smug experts who predicted its downfall wrote: "This was no surprise - western-style movies have never found sess in Horn Kingdom or the wider Anatolia region."

    In contrast, Titan Pictures'' "The Desired Crown" boasted a four million dor box office. Headlines trumpeted: "The Desired Crown performs spectacrly on opening day! Viewers im it surpasses Lord of the Rings!"

    The narrative was clear: "The Desired Crown" was a roaring sess, while Hellfire Studio''s "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" was deemed an epic failure.

    However, a different story circted among actual viewers. Many warned friends and family: "Don''t bother with ''The Desired Crown.'' It''s so bad, people are walking out before it ends."

    Indeed, reports of mid-screening exits were numerous, butrgely suppressed. Only newspapers like "Powerful Times" dared to publish these ounts.

    Meanwhile, those who''d seen "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" were rmending it: "You won''t believe it! The film''s actually good! I never thought I''d sit through an entire western style movie, but I did!"

    The word-of-mouth for "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" spread slowly at first. On its second day, the box office only reached about two hundred thousand dors.

    Meanwhile, "The Desired Crown" raked in 2 million dors. Though a significant decline from its opening day, it still outperformed "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly".

    However, the third day brought a shocking twist. "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" box office skyrocketed to six million dors! Even more surprising, "The Desired Crown" plummeted to a mere five hundred thousand.

    This dramatic shift left the media and those who hadn''t yet seen "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" stunned and confused.

    Many felt betrayed by the initial media reports. Comments like, "The Desired Crown was awful. I can''t believe I trusted those newspapers iming it surpassed Lord of the Rings," becamemon.

    Others chimed in, "The ex-prince''s western style movie was actually entertaining and more interesting."

    "Yeah, it was refreshingly different," another agreed.

    The tables had turned. Public opinion now favored "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," while "The Desired Crown" faced mounting criticism.

    This reversal highlighted the power of genuine audience reactions over initial hype and misleading media reports. It showed how word-of-mouth could dramatically impact a film''s sess, even when starting from a seemingly disadvantaged position.

 Chapter 101: Breaking Preconception

    <h4>Chapter 101: Breaking Preconception</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    At Righteous Film Studio headquarters, anxiety was mounting. Rayleigh Wang and executives like Jerry Yan grew increasingly nervous as "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" struggled at the box office.

    Investors demanded exnations, criticizing the decision to back Arthur''s third film: "We''re hemorrhaging money! That exiled prince''s film doesn''t stand a chance against Titan Pictures!"

    Many pushed to pull "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" from theaters after just two days, citing the high costs of maintaining it in hundreds of cinemas.

    But Rayleigh, entric as ever, stood firm. "No, no! We can''t stop screening it! I still believe there will be returns!" he insisted. "We''ll continue showing the film across the kingdom until I recoup my investment!"

    So, despite the disappointing first and second-day performances, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" remained in hundreds of cinemas for its third day.

    Rayleigh''s stubborn faith, initially seen as foolish by many, was about to be put to the test.

    Investors, resigned to Rayleigh''s stubborn decision, approached the third-day box office results with low expectations for "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly."

    However, when they saw the stunning six million dor figure, their eyes widened and jaws dropped in disbelief.

    The fourth day brought even better news: a 6.8 million dor box office.

    At Hellfire Studio''s hall, executives from Righteous Film Studio joined Rayleigh in celebrating with Arthur.

    "Hahaha!" Rayleigh''s joyfulughter filled the room. "Those investors wouldn''t believe in my vision!"

    Nearby, the major investor of RFS smiled, raising his ss in a toast.

    Rayleigh, unable to contain his glee, bragged to Arthur, "That guy was forcing me to stop the screening - but look at him now!" He guffawed, "He''s as tame as a dog after seeing my vision was right! The film''s earning millions!"

    The investor looked embarrassed in Arthur''s presence.

    Arthur simply offered him a toast as the party continued.

    Rayleigh continued his boastful tirade, "Investors and executives were afraid of Titan Pictures - but I said, damn Titan Pictures! Our film will make it!"

    Two hours into the celebration, Rayleigh was thoroughly inebriated.

    Jerry, equally tipsy, attempted to scold him, "You''re drunk, Rayleigh! Stop acting like a spoiled kid!"

    "I''m... I''m not drunk!" Rayleigh swayed, slurring his words. "I am... I am not a spoiled kid! My mommy said so!"

    George leaned towards Arthur, asking skeptically, "You sure it was the right decision to have a party here at your studio with these people?"

    Arthur chuckled, "Let them be. These people, especially Rayleigh, are weird, but they''re very interesting."

    Firfel, standing nearby,mented, "That Rayleigh is beyond weird. He acts like a child."

    "Yeah," Vivienne nodded in agreement. "He tried to get touchy with me too, but fortunately, he''s not forceful. Otherwise, he''d have tasted my fist."

    Arthur, Firfel, George, and the others shared a heartyugh when they heard that.

    ***

    The media initially predicted Arthur''s third film, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," would be a colossal failure. Headlines boldly proimed: "Exiled Prince''s Third Film Set to Be His Biggest Flop."

    This confidence stemmed from the Horn Entertainment Industry''s apparent desire to pull Arthur down, jealous of his rapid sess with his first two films. Titan Pictures, wielding significant influence in the industry, spearheaded this effort.

    The film''s western genre, unpopr among Horn citizens, made it easy for these industry giants to generate negative press. They were certain Arthur''s streak of sess was about to end.

    However, from the third day onwards, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" defied expectations. Its box office numbers soared, earning millions day after day.

    Meanwhile, Titan Pictures'' "The Desired Crown" saw a dramatic decline. Its earnings plummeted from millions to hundreds of thousands, and finally to mere tens of thousands daily.

    This unexpected turnaround left the media scrambling to exin the phenomenon.

    The dramatic box office shift reached Titan Pictures headquarters in the Muscovy Empire''s Evros region. In his spacious office, Chairman Alexander Leonidovich Volkov, stroking a cat in hisp, reviewed the Horn Kingdom box office reports with Ed Louis.

    "What happened? Aren''t western-style movies unpopr in Horn Kingdom?" Alexander questioned, eyeing the papers on his desk. "Why is that infamous prince''s third film performing so well?"

    Ed Louis replied, "Boss, you''ve seen ''Demonfather'' and ''Lord of the Rings.'' This film is likely just as good."

    Alexander nodded, his expression darkening as he considered "The Desired Crown''s" performance. "What about our film? Didn''t our director boast it would surpass ''Lord of the Rings''? Why did it only perform well initially?"

    "It''s been widely criticized," Ed admitted. "Many call it a shameless copy of ''Lord of the Rings.''"

    Alexander''s response was swift and cold. "Fire the director and the team. They created an obvious imitation." He paused, then continued, "This failure is eptable as the film was merely an experiment. We''ll improve next time." His eyes narrowed as he added, "Deal with the Hellfire film. Bribe Horn film critics for negative reviews. Have our popr Horn artists criticize the prince''s film in interviews."

    "Of course," Ed nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

    This scene reveals the cutthroat nature of the industry and the lengths to which powerful studios will go to maintain their dominance.

    It also highlights the growing threat Arthur''s sess poses to established yers like Titan Pictures.

    ***

    As nned, popr film critics in Horn Kingdom began publishing scathing reviews:

    "The film is terrible. Itbels Blondie as ''Good,'' even though he''s just as evil! Don''t waste your time on this movie!"

    "It''s a one-dimensional film. There''s no point in watching such shallow content."

    "The film''s only gaining sess because Blondie is half-demon."

    More negative reviews flooded in, but those who had actually watched the film met these critiques with disdain.

    "No way Dudu would give this review! Was he paid off or something?" some fans spected, suspecting foul y.

    While some were swayed by the reviews, others who had seen the film were quick to counter:

    "Don''t trust these reviews. Go watch the film yourself. It''s worth it."

    "Is it true that Blondie,beled as ''The Good,'' isn''t a good person at all?"

    This question lingered in the minds of many, even those who had watched the film.

    "Watch the film and then read those unbiased review to understand," became amon response.

    Amidst the controversy, unbiased critics emerged, offering nuanced analyses of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly." One such review stated:

    "The three men were bad in their own way. Blondie,beled ''The Good,'' was indeed a terrible person. While he distanced himself from ''The Bad'' Angel Eyes, he still associated with ''The Ugly'' Tuco. Yet, the film cleverly portrays Blondie as the lesser evil. Despite his illegal activities, his actions somehow seem less reprehensible. The film ingeniously challenges our moral standards. Ultimately, it''s an amazing western-style film."

    These bnced reviews cleared the air for many viewers, deepening their understanding of the film''splexities.

    Intriguingly, these in-depth analyses sparked curiosity among audiences. Many were inspired to rewatch the film, eager to catch the subtle details pointed out by perceptive critics.

    This phenomenon demonstrated the film''syered narrative and its ability to provoke thought and discussion.

    It also highlighted how thoughtful criticism could enhance audience appreciation and engagement, turning a single viewing experience into a deeper exploration of the film''s themes and nuances.

    As "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" continued to rake in significant box office sess, the media''s attempts to thrash it proved ineffective.

    History seemed to repeat itself, echoing the "Lord of the Rings" era. The negative press paradoxically piqued audience curiosity, fueling the film''s poprity to unprecedented heights.

    The Horn Entertainment Industry and experts found it hard to believe that a western-style movie like "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" could be such a huge sess. It was well known that Horn citizens, and indeed the whole of Anatolia, typically disliked western-style movies.

    The fact that Arthur, a demon not even from the west, had created a western-style film that proved to be a significant sess brought wonder not only to the Horn Entertainment Industry but also to western countries and kingdoms. They were curious about the film''s content and quality.

    Many in the west wondered if Arthur Morningstar had once again created a film that could stand alongside "The Demonfather" and "Lord of the Rings" in terms of quality and appeal.

 Chapter 102: Titan Pictures Massive Flop

    <h4>Chapter 102: Titan Pictures Massive Flop</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" enjoyed a sessful first week at the Horn Kingdom box office, then quickly spread to Morningstar Kingdom, Choson Dynasty, and Japon Empire.

    Curiosity drove many to the theaters, intrigued by the film''s sess in Horn Kingdom and its infamous demon ex-prince creator. While audiences expected a decent film, they doubted they''d truly enjoy a "western style" movie that didn''t align with their tastes.

    To their surprise, the majority who watched it fell in love with the story and found the characters captivating.

    However, not everyone was impressed. In Morningstar Kingdom, a group exiting the theater shared their criticisms:

    "Meh. ''Lord of the Rings'' is better."

    "The story''s good, but I don''t like that it''s all about Empirica."

    "The ex-prince should make a martial arts movie instead. It would represent demons better."

    One demon, caught in a fantasy, mused, "Or better, he should make a movie about demons ughtering humans when we ruled the world four hundred years ago."

    "Humans were our ves back then."

    "All races were our ves!"

    Meanwhile, Hellfire Stores, a partnership between Arthur and the Lava Brothers, began selling wild west clothes alongside "Lord of the Rings" merchandise. These stores, scattered throughout Fend city, capitalized on the film''s poprity.

    The figurines of Imkrag, Kurt, and other actors in their "Lord of the Rings" roles were selling rapidly, with Gollum leading sales, closely followed by Aragorn and Arwen.

    At the store counter, a thirty-year-old demon approached the cashier. "I''m here to buy Blondie''s clothes," he said, reflecting the growing demand for "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" merchandise.

    Blondie''s attire became popr among adult and young adult demons. Elves showed a particr fondness for Angel Eyes'' outfits, while dwarves gravitated towards Tuco''s style.

    Just twelve days after the premiere of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," its influence was visible throughout Anatolia. From Horn Kingdom to Morningstar Kingdom, people began adopting wild west fashion inspired by the film.

    Children, especially, embraced the trend wholeheartedly. Donning hats and other western essories, they yacted as Blondie, Angel Eyes, or Tuco.

    At the Horn City yground, a group of children donned costumes mimicking characters from "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly."

    "Ready, Delki?" a demon child called out.

    Delki, an incubus demon wearing Blondie''s outfit, nodded firmly. "Hmm!"

    "The standoff begins!" the child announced dramatically.

    Three children, decked out in western wear, embodied Blondie, Angel Eyes, and Tuco. In the background, their friends provided a makeshift soundtrack.

    A feline demon child attempted to mimic the film''s theme: "Ooh-ooh-ooh, Wah-wah-wah."

    A monkey demon boy joined in: "Ahh-ahh... Ahh-ahh..."

    Delki and his counterparts eyed each other warily, hands hovering over their toy guns.

    "Pah!" Delki eximed.

    The others followed suit with their own sound effects: "Pow!" "Bang!"

    The half-demon, half-elf boy ying Angel Eyes dramatically fell, struggling to get up.

    "Pow!" Delki fired his water gun, and Angel Eyes copsed, ying dead.

    "Yes!" The children cheered enthusiastically.

    As the game ended, the defeated Angel Eyes stood up, brushing sand off his clothes. "This time, I''ll be Blondie!" he dered.

    "No way! I''m ying Blondie!" the demon who had been Tuco protested.

    This yful reenactment showcased the film''s profound impact on young audiences.

    The children''s enthusiasm and attention to detail in their roley demonstrated how deeply the characters and scenes had resonated with them.

    ***

    As "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" prepared for its Empirican debut, Titan Pictures'' "The Desired Crown" abruptly ceased screening in Horn Kingdom and Morningstar Kingdom.

    Titan''s failure didn''t go unnoticed by industry rivals. Science Pictures'' newspaper, Science Daily, mocked: "Titan Pictures'' epic failure - they boasted their new film would surpass ''Lord of the Rings''. Look how that turned out!"

    Underground Films'' CEO weighed in during an interview: "It''s a massive flop. Titan spent millions but only recouped half before the film tanked. It''s particrly embarrassing considering they were trying topete with a small demon studio."

    Mouse Entertainment from Empirica joined the fray. A prominent executive stated, "The Desired Crown was nothing but a shameless copy. It brought nothing new to the entertainment world." He added, "They''re a joke. But of course, Mouse Entertainment Pictures recognizes the profitability of films like ''Lord of the Rings'' - and we''re proud to announce that our VFX Studio, equipped with dwarven technologies, is nowplete."

    This unexpected announcement from Mouse Entertainment shocked the media. Known primarily for cartoons, their venture into films marked a significant shift in the industryndscape.

    Cartoon animation, while not yet a global phenomenon, was gaining significant traction in western kingdoms and countries. Its origins could be traced back to Empirica eight years ago, with Mouse Entertainment positioning itself as a leader in this emerging industry.

    Over the years, Mouse Entertainment had firmly established its dominance. Their gship cartoon, "Mr. Mouse," created five years prior, was generating tens of millions of dors in Empirica alone.

    Initially, Mouse Entertainment believed cartoons were the future of entertainment. However, the emergence of films like "Demonfather" and "Lord of the Rings" shifted their perspective.

    The CEO and founder of Mouse Entertainment was particrly impressed by "Lord of the Rings''" box office performance. Learning about the crucial role of VFX Studios in creating such spectacles, he decided his studio should also invest in this technology.

    It became clear that Titan Pictures wasn''t the onlypany eyeing domination of the entertainment industry. Mouse Entertainment, with its strong foundation in cartoons and newfound interest in VFX-heavy films, was also positioning itself as a major yer.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    The entertainment industry''s been buzzingtely, partly thanks to "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," and partly due to Titan Pictures'' massive flop.

    It''s particrly intriguing to see Mouse Entertainment, previouslyser-focused on cartoons, eyeing VFX-driven filmmaking.

    "Looks like this world''s Mr. Mouse is venturing into effects-heavy films much earlier," I mused, chuckling to myself.

    To me, Mouse Entertainment was clearly this world''s Walt Disney. They''re following a simr path, but there''s one key difference: while they''re genuinely trying to innovate with their cartoons, that Disney-esque greed for profit is still evident.

    Still, I''m hoping they''ll produce their own set of hits. They might be future rivals, but I''m curious to see what this world''s entertainment industry can create beyond my "Entertainment System"-aided productions.

    Speaking of creation, June 21 is approaching fast - time for the Electronics Expo in Apple City. We''re showcasing ourputer there, and I''m banking on attracting talent to speed up its development. Maybe we''ll finally be able to build an arcade machine for video games!

    I''m itching to y something, anything really. It''s been too long since I''ve had a good gaming session.

    This world was mind-numbingly dull without video games! Memories of my past life flooded back - skipping school to y God of War 2, GTA San Andreas, Mario, and Counter-Strike at theputer caf¨¦. The nostalgia hit hard.

    For a moment, I wished I could go back, just for a bit. But then again, I''m pretty content with how this life''s turning out.

    "Boss! You need to see this!" Klein''s voice shattered my reverie as he burst into my office, waving a newspaper frantically.

    "What''s got you so worked up?" I asked, snapping back to reality.

    "This headline - it''s about our film!" He thrust the paper into my hands.

    The headline jumped out at me: "sphemy or Art? Srus Church Rails Against ''The Good, The Bad and The Ugly''"

    Frowning, I scanned the article. Apparently, the Srus Church took offense at Tuco''s overuse of their circle sign. For a moment, I worried the Srus Pope might block my film in their dominated kingdoms and countries. But reading further, I felt relief wash over me - it was just some Srus followersining.

    "Boss, do you think they''ll try to shut us down?" Klein asked, his voice tight with concern.

    I leaned back, letting out a breath I didn''t realize I''d been holding. "Rx, Klein. It''s just hot air. The Srus higher-ups aren''t going to waste their time on this. Our film''s release is safe."

 Chapter 103: Wild West Success

    <h4>Chapter 103: Wild West Sess</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Despiteints from the Srus Church, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" was set to screen in Empirica.

    This time, it wasn''t Hellfire Studio''s partner, Bryan Brothers, releasing Arthur''s third film, but a studio called "Western Studio." They outbid Bryan Brothers, securing licensing rights by offering Arthur 8 million studios and a 29 percent share of the box office - a deal surpassing offers from major Empirican studios like Science Pictures and Bryan Brothers.

    Western Studio began promoting the film across Empirica, with its premiere set for June 9, 1272, just three days away. It was up against another western, "Dust and Gunfire," directed by the renowned Dous Harper and starring the famous Lewis Light.

    "Dust and Gunfire" had been sessful since its premiere a week prior.

    As "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" promotions ramped up, newspapers and magazines that had praised "Dust and Gunfire" ran intriguing headlines: "Can this demon western match Harper''s genuine frontier tale?"

    Many fans of Harper and Light were skeptical. Some sneered, "A demon making a western? What do demons know about our culture?"

    Others echoed the sentiment: "It''s like westerners trying to make a martial arts movie. It''s bound to fail."

    Newspapers further fueled this view with headlines quoting Director Harper: "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly might only be popr in Anatolia because it deviates from true western style, aligning more with Anatolian tastes. It''s likely to fail here, where audiences are ustomed to ''genuine'' westerns."

    This buildup of anticipation and skepticism set the stage for a dramatic showdown at the Empirican box office, pitting Arthur''s unconventional take on the western genre against established Empirican filmmakers and audience expectations.

    ***

    June 9, 1272 - "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" finally hit Empirican cinemas.

    Audiences bought tickets with low expectations. The film''s demon origins gave many pause, but the infamous exiled prince''s reputation as the creator of acimed films like "The Demonfather" and "Lord of the Rings" piqued their curiosity.

    At Holy Theatre in Angel City, people filed in, their skepticism evident in their hushed conversations.

    "Think this ex-prince''s third film will live up to his first two?" one moviegoer asked hispanion.

    His friend shook his head. "Doubtful. What could a demon prince possibly know about our culture?"

    Another in their group chimed in, "It was popr in the East, so it might be interesting. But we can''t expect uracy - the exiled prince has never even set foot here."

    "You''ve got a point," the first agreed.

    The air of skepticism hung heavy as the lights dimmed and the movie began. The audience settled in, bracing themselves for disappointment but secretly hoping to be surprised.

    From start to finish, the audience was spellbound. They had expected merely an "interesting" movie, but the film''s urate capture of their culture and history surpassed all expectations.

    Thepelling story, memorable characters, and haunting soundtrack left asting impression.

    As the credits rolled, many viewers left the theater eager to return with friends and family for a second viewing.

    The first day''s box office results for "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" were impressive: 900 thousand dors. While it outperformed "Dust and Gunfire''s" 600 thousand dor take that day, context was key. "Dust and Gunfire" had been screening for a week, with a ster opening day of 3.7 million dors and a cumtive 8.8 million dor box office.

    Moreover, "Dust and Gunfire," starring Lewis Light, hadn''t yet been distributed internationally, suggesting even greater potential earnings.

    This sess wouldn''t have been possible without Arthur''s groundbreaking first film, "The Demonfather."

    As the first colored film, it had inspired both novice and renowned directors worldwide. Film schools now incorporated its techniques into their curric, particrly its use of symbolism.

    The iconic scene of Don Corleone being gunned down amidst oranges, and Sonny holding an orange before his demise, introduced the fruit as a harbinger of death. This motif gradually permeated other films, bing a recognized cinematguage.

    But enough about "Demonfather" - at present, Dous Harper''s fans and those of Lewis Light were feeling smug about "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly''s" seeminglyckluster performance. Arthur''s third film hadn''t received the thunderous wee they''d feared.

    Director Harper himself felt vindicated, certain that Arthur''s film would see declining numbers after its modest first-day showing in Empirica.

    But the second day''s box office results shattered expectations - "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" raked in a shocking 3 million dors! The third day saw an even more staggering 9 million dor haul!

    Far from declining, the film''s poprity was skyrocketing.

    This unprecedented jump raised eyebrows across the industry. Director Harper, feeling something was amiss, publicly criticized the box office tracking system, especially when his own "Dust and Gunfire" only managed to scrape together 90 thousand dors.

    But Harper''s protests fell on deaf ears. Empirican citizens were falling in love with "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly." Much like in the East, children began role-ying as Blondie, Angel Eyes, or Tuco in the streets.

    By its third day, the film had exploded in poprity across Empirica. Surprisingly, it seemed to resonate even more strongly with Empiricans than it had with Anatolians.

    The unexpected sess of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" in Empirica was turning into a cultural phenomenon, defying all predictions and leaving its critics scrambling for exnations.

    The triumph of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" gave major studio executives a serious case of d¨¦j¨¤ vu.

    They couldn''t wrap their heads around Arthur''s consistent sess. First "The Demonfather," then "Lord of the Rings," and now this. Just when they thought his third film wouldn''t match the massive sess of its predecessors, it blindsided them. It was as if Arthur was mocking them, saying, "Bet you didn''t see thating, did you?"

    Director Harper found himself in an especially embarrassing position. He''d confidently predicted Arthur''s third film would flop in Empirica, only to watch it be even more sessful there than elsewhere.

    Walking down the street became an exercise in humility for Dous. Everywhere he looked, children were role-ying scenes from the very film posters he''d once sneered at.

    Even the popr Lewis Light couldn''t resist the hype. After watching the film himself, he began to understand what all the fuss was about.

    "Arthur Morningstar," Lewis Light muttered, staring at the young demon prince''s picture in the newspaper. The exiled filmmaker''s name had be inescapable, dominating media headlines.

    "I''m growing more curious about you," Lewis mused. "What would it be like to work with you, I wonder?"

    Lewis wasn''t alone in his intrigue. Other prominent actors and actresses found themselves drawn to Arthur''s sess. However, they dared not voice their interest, fearing bacsh from their agencies or damaging rtionships with major studios.

    Meanwhile, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" continued its triumphant run across the Evros region. As time passed, it effortlessly crossed the 100 million dor box office mark. While it might not have matched the astronomical sess of "Lord of the Rings," it stood as yet another hit in Arthur Morningstar''s growing arsenal.

    The industry bigwigs were left scratching their heads, wondering how this exiled demon prince had managed to outmaneuver them yet again. Arthur''s uncanny ability to captivate audiences across cultures was forcing them to reconsider everything they thought they knew about filmmaking and market trends.

    In his office, Arthur allowed himself a satisfied smile as he read the system notification:

    <strong>[The Good, The Bad and The Ugly sessfully reached 100 million box office!]</strong>

    <strong>[Mission: "Conquer the Wild West: Hit 100 Million with Your Frontier Epic" - SUCCESS!]</strong>

 Chapter 104: Transformation

    <h4>Chapter 104: Transformation</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Finally, mission aplished - and now, the reward I''ve been itching to get my hands on.

    <strong>[Bloodline Ability: Primal Morningstar]</strong>

    A surge of excitement coursed through me as I eyed the reward. The name alone, "Primal Morningstar," had my curiosity piqued. As a Morningstar myself, I couldn''t help but wonder what this {Bloodline Ability} was all about.

    I dove into the full details:

    <strong>[As a Morningstar, you possess an ancient and powerful bloodline that grants you the ability to transform into your primal demonic form. This transformation embodies the regal, fearsome essence of the Morningstar, giving you both physical and magical dominance over others. Your appearance changes dramatically, showcasing the full power and majesty of your heritage.]</strong>

    So, I''m awakening my ancient bloodline? My heart raced. Could this finally put me on par with my father and brothers?

    But then I read on: <strong>[Currently, you can only ess the first phase of this {Primal Morningstar} transformation ability, with more advanced phases avable as you meet specific requirements.]</strong>

    Just Phase 1? My fantasies of surpassing my father or my first brother vanished in a puff of smoke.

    "It''s still something," I consoled myself. "A major power-up is nothing to sneeze at."

    I pored over the rest of the skill description, surprised by the system''s uncharacteristic generosity with details.

    After digesting it all, I locked my office door and positioned myself in front of the full-length mirror.

    "Alright, let''s see what this transformation looks like..."

    My heart pounded as I prepared to trigger the ability. What kind of demon would I see staring back at me?

    After gaining the {Primal Morningstar} ability, a strange new kind of demonic energy began swirling through my body. It felt both familiar and alien - like it had always been there, dormant, waiting to be discovered. Yet I''d never felt anything quite like it before.

    This demonic energy seemed to dance in my veins, reminding me of {Nether Surge}, but far more potent. It was, to put it mildly, freaking weird.

    Weirdness aside, I decided to trigger these yful demonic energies.

    Instant regret.

    "Hng! What the actual fuck-"

    My muscles and bones screamed in agony, my skin stretching impossibly tight. It felt like my body was tearing itself apart and reforging itself simultaneously.

    "Ah!"

    The change was excruciating. My eyes burned with an intensity that made my usual scarlet-eye transformation feel like a gentle warmth inparison.

    I stumbled against my desk, steam rising from my body like I was some demonic kettle. My suit, unable to withstand the transformation, tore to shreds. Now I stood naked, save for my underwear clinging on like a loyal sidekick.

    As the pain intensified, I couldn''t help but wonder if this was the price of power, or if I''d seriously underestimated what it meant to unlock my "primal" form.

    "Lord, save me-" Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I endured what felt like hell on earth.

    Fighting to stay conscious, I silently cursed the system for not warning me about the excruciating pain of transformation. If I''d known, I could''ve done this in my private bathroom or back at the penthouse. Not here in the office where anyone could walk in at any moment.

    Thank hell I''d had the foresight to lock the door.

    <i>Knock knock</i>

    "Boss, are you there?" Klein''s voice filtered through the door.

    ''Why now?'' I inwardly groaned. Speak of the devil.

    "Wha-what do you want!?" I managed to growl through gritted teeth.

    "Boss - I''m here for an important matter¡ª"

    I cut him off, "Le-let''s talkter! I''m in se-serious business here!"

    Klein''s voice turned concerned, "Are you okay, boss? You sound weird..."

    The pain began to subside, allowing me to speak more normally, "I''m fine. Just in the middle of something important. It''s serious business."

    "Funny business?"

    For fuck''s sake. "Just get out!"

    "Okay, okay," Klein retreated, sounding bewildered.

    This guy was getting toofortable around me. But I had bigger concerns.

    As Klein''s footsteps faded, a strange, gradual pleasure began to rece the pain. I felt... oddly good. This power... it was like being high, even though I''d never touched drugs.

    The sensation was intoxicating, a rush unlike anything I''d experienced before. As the transformation settled, I couldn''t help but wonder: was this how it felt to truly embrace my demonic heritage?

    I pushed myself up from my kneeling position, suddenly aware of a significant change in height. Had I grown to six or seven feet tall?

    But that wasn''t all. I felt a new pair of appendages I could control - not arms, but wings. With a slight experimental p, papers and various items in the room were suddenly caught in a gust, scattering across the floor.

    Approaching the full-length mirror, I realized my new height meant I couldn''t see my entire reflection. Only my upper body was visible, my head nearly brushing the ceiling.

    My torso caught my attention first. The abs and muscles I''d always had now looked more defined, radiating power.

    Kneeling to get a better view, I was startled to see my forehead horns had vanished. Instead, impressive antler-like horns now crowned my head, their scarlet hue both intimidating and oddly graceful.

    My eyes zed the same scarlet shade I''d seen sh during moments of intense emotion. My features had sharpened, bing more handsome, my sweat-sheened body exuding an almost maic attraction.

    Then there were the wings - bat-like appendages sprouting from my back. When I touched them, the sensation was as natural as touching my own shoulder.

    This new form was... impressive, to say the least. Powerful, regal, and undeniably demonic.

    "Awesome..." I couldn''t help but grin. "With this power, I could toss Bobby around like a ragdoll."

    I examined my hands, noting the sharp nails. Curiously, I tried to pierce my skin, but my nails couldn''t break through.

    "Seems my skin''s tougher now," I mused. Testing further, I scratched at a book. The cover yielded slightly, and with more force, my nail sank into the thick tome.

    A smile spread across my face, revealing vampire-like teeth in the mirror. "This feeling... Could I stay like this forever?"

    As if in answer, a system notification shed before my eyes:

    <strong>[Primal Morningstar activated. Limited duration: ten minutes]</strong>

    <strong>[You can maintain the transformation for ten minutes. Prolonged use may deplete your mana reserves.]</strong>

    Not ideal, but workable. I could already feel an unprecedented level of control over my body.

    The system borated:

    <strong>[You will gain masterful control of your body as you train your bloodline ability. You can manifest your wings in your original form, retract your red horns, or change your eyes to an intimidating scarlet hue. The more you master your transformation, the longer you can maintain it and the more powerful you''ll be.]</strong>

    This new ability was more than just raw power - it was potential. With practice, I could fine-tune my demonic traits, adapting them to any situation. The possibilities were thrilling.

    With a satisfied smile, I decided to revert to my original form.

    The process of changing back was easier, but still came with a twinge of pain. As my body shifted and shrank, I could feel my muscles and bones realigning, a sensation that was ufortable but manageable.

    Once I was back to my normal self, a system notification chimed in my head:

    <strong>[Ding! Your pain resistance increased!]</strong>

    I let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God." The thought of enduring that level of agony every time I transformed was daunting. This pain resistance was a wee development.

    As I stood there, catching my breath and adjusting to being back in my usual body, I couldn''t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. This new ability was powerful, no doubt, but it came with its own set of challenges.

    The increased pain resistance was a good start, but I knew I''d need to practice and build up my tolerance if I wanted to use this transformation effectively. Still, the potential benefits seemed well worth the difort.

    I nced at the mirror onest time, seeing my familiar face looking back at me. It was strange to think that such a powerful, imposing form was now hidden beneath this exterior.

 Chapter 105: Noble Demon?

    <h4>Chapter 105: Noble Demon?</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    As I exited the office, my crew''s eyes widened at the sight of my shredded clothes.

    "What happened to you, boss?!" they eximed in unison.

    "Haha, don''t worry about it," I said, trying to sound casual. "Just a small... ident."

    Embarrassment bubbled up inside me as I made my way to the male hot tub. I quickly stripped, grabbed a towel, and sunk into the warm water.

    For ten minutes, I rxed, my mind racing with thoughts of my new ability to transform, fly, and who knows what else. Eventually, I stood up and quietly borrowed some clothes hanging nearby.

    Just as I finished dressing, a demon exited the hot tub. "Bo-boss! Those are my clothes!"

    "Oh, these?" I said nonchntly. "I''ll repay you. For now, I need to borrow them."

    "But..."

    One look from me was enough. He nodded in understanding.

    As I left the hot tub area, I found Klein waiting outside. "Oh right, you had something to report?"

    "It''s about our talents, boss..." Klein said, his tone uncharacteristically solemn.

    Hmm? This didn''t sound good.

    "Tell me," I said, bracing myself for whatever news wasing.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    A few hours before Arthur''s transformation, Clint and Benny had decided to celebrate the huge sess of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly."

    Though Clint and Benny had only been living in Horn City for a few weeks, they''d wasted no time exploring the local nightlife. Among the handful of bars they''d discovered, one stood out: "Hidden Bar."

    As Clint and Benny entered the Hidden Bar, the reality of their newfound fame was still sinking in.

    "I still can''t believe this is happening to me," Clint said, a mix of excitement and disbelief in his voice. "Suddenly bing so famous... My manager even said Empirican major studios want me in their films."

    Benny sighed, a rueful smile on his face. "Me too. I''m just a sixty-year-old man. Never imagined I''d be famous at this age."

    Their conversation was interrupted by an excited voice. "Hey, aren''t you Blondie and Tuco from that western film?"

    Clint chuckled, "Yeah, that''s us. But I''m Clint, and he''s Benny."

    "Wow. Can I have an autograph?"

    Everything was happening so fast. Just weeks ago, they could walk into a bar unnoticed. Now, they were surrounded like... well, celebrities. Which, they realized with a start, they actually were now.

    As more people approached, asking for autographs, Clint and Benny exchanged a look. This was their new reality, and while exciting, it was also a bit overwhelming.

    Clint and Benny hade to Hidden Bar to celebrate, but they couldn''t get a moment to themselves. Fans kept approaching, getting too touchy and demanding their attention, making it impossible for the actors to enjoy their evening.

    Fortunately, the bar manager, a subus named Alissa, noticed their predicament and swooped in to rescue them. "Follow me," she said, leading them to the VIP room.

    "Thank you, Alissa," Clint said, gratitude evident in his voice. He and Alissa had grown close over the past few weeks, even before his sudden rise to fame. She''d always treated him and Benny well, and Clint had found himself drawn to her.

    Alissa smiled warmly. "Come on, I''m the bar manager here. Looking after my customers is the least I can do."

    Benny, never one to miss an opportunity for yful jabs, interjected, "Haha! Suddenly all concerned about customers, are we?" He grinned mischievously. "Just a few days ago, I saw you beat down some young troublemakers and kick out the folks cheering them on!"

    Alissa chuckled, unfazed. "That was different."

    Clint nudged Benny as they settled into their seats, a silent request to ease up on the teasing.

    Benny noticed the growing closeness between Clint and Alissa. He shook his head, thinking, ''Who would''ve thought this guy would find a love life so quickly in a foreign city?''

    Indeed, just a few weeks ago, Horn City had beenpletely alien to them.

    The jovial atmosphere shattered as trouble barged in. Alissa''s eyes widened in recognition and fear. A group entered their VIP room, led by none other than Caleb Diamond - a music star famous throughout Horn Kingdom and beyond.

    "What are you doing here?" Alissa''s voice trembled.

    Clint, sensing her distress, asked, "Who are they, Alissa?"

    Caleb chuckled darkly, hands in his pockets as he eyed Clint and Benny through fancy sunsses. "Just checking out who you''ve been... associating withtely."

    "Leave!" Alissa demanded, pointing at the door.

    Caleb''s gaze turned icy as it settled on Clint. "You... What''s your rtionship with Alissa?"

    "My rtionships are none of your damn business, Caleb!" Alissa shouted.

    "Quiet!" Caleb snapped, but Alissa, fueled by anger and fear, hurled a liquor bottle at him. Caleb gestured to his men, who moved to restrain her.

    Clint jumped up, eyes wide. "What the hell? Don''t touch her!"

    "Just run, Clint!" Alissa pleaded, clearly more concerned for his safety than her own.

    Caleb''s voice dripped with venom. "So he''s your new boy? Trying to rece me? That''s not happening."

    Benny watched helplessly as the situation spiraled. Clint, unable to stand by, fought back but was quickly overwhelmed by Caleb and his group.

    As fists flew and bottles shattered, the celebratory night had devolved into chaos. The VIP room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a cage, with Clint and Benny trapped in a confrontation they never sawing.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    I listened intently as Klein recounted what happened to Clint and Benny, my eyes growing cold. "How are they? Are Clint and Benny okay?"

    Klein sighed heavily. "They''re in the hospital, boss. But... they''re not in good shape." He hesitated before adding, "They could recover quickly with some high-grade healing potions and a skilled healer, but that''ll cost tens of thousands."

    I nodded decisively. "Hire the most reputable healer in the city. And get those medical potions. They''re my talent - their appearance and health are paramount."

    Klein asked hesitantly, "You''ll cover the costs, boss?"

    "What kind of question is that?" I shook my head, slightly annoyed. "Of course I''ll cover it." Then, my tone sharpening, I asked, "You mentioned the culprit is Caleb Diamond?"

    Klein nodded. "We''ve already got the legal team working on filing charges against him."

    "Good," I said, "but it won''t be easy. The guy''s popr and influential." My eyes narrowed. "But I''ll make sure Clint and Benny get justice, one way or another."

    "What are you nning, boss?" Klein asked, concern evident in his voice.

    I just smiled, offering no answer. My mind was already racing with possibilities, some of which Klein was probably better off not knowing.

    As Klein left, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of anger. No one messes with my talent and gets away with it. Caleb Diamond was about to learn that the hard way.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    A day after Clint and Benny''s beating, Caleb lounged in his penthouse, attempting to soothe his panicked manager.

    "Rx, Veret. We''ve got nothing to worry about," Caleb said, exuding confidence.

    Veret''s voice cracked with anxiety. "Nothing to worry about?! Those guys you beat up aren''t nobodies! They''re rising stars! The media will be all over this!"

    Caleb chuckled, waving off the concern. "Come on. Dad will handle it. He''s got connections with politicians and newspaper bigwigs. We''re covered."

    Veret visibly rxed at this assurance.

    Seeing his manager calm down, Caleb''s smirk widened. He felt invincible, his mind wandering to dangerous territory. ''No one can have Alissa but me,'' he thought, then mused, ''Maybe I should pay those two a visit in the hospital, teach them asting lesson.''

    Just as this cruel thought crossed his mind, the window exploded in a shower of ss.

    "What the hell¡ª" Veret''s shout was cut short as a tall, imposing demon appeared in the shattered window frame.

    Caleb''s face contorted with rage. "Who the fuck are you? What do you think you''re doing?!"

    Instead of answering, the demon unfurled massive bat-like wings. Caleb and Veret''s eyes widened in shock and fear.

    The atmosphere in the penthouse shifted dramatically. The once-cocky Caleb found himself face-to-face with a being that radiated power and danger.

    The unfurled wings left no doubt - this was a ''noble demon.'' A higher ranking one at that.

    Caleb and Veret stood transfixed, having never seen one in the flesh before. Such demons were exceedingly rare.

    With a single p of his wings, the demon sent a gust of wind that made Caleb and Veret stumble.

    Caleb''s demeanor changed instantly, his voice dripping with forced politeness. "I apologize for my earliernguage. I didn''t realize we were in the presence of a noble demon." He gestured at the broken window. "Please, don''t worry about that. We can easily rece it."

    Veret nodded frantically, like a bobblehead caught in an earthquake. "Absolutely! We''re just... curious why a noble demon such as yourself would honor us with a visit?"

    Caleb''s ego couldn''t resist chiming in. "Did youe to see me?" he asked, puffing up with pride. "I know I''m quite popr. My fame reaches far and wide. I can see why even a noble demon such as yourself were so excited to meet me that you didn''t think twice about breaking a window to get in."

    He continued, oblivious to the growing danger. "Would you like an autograph? I could even perform a song for you-"

    His words were cut short as the demon suddenly appeared before him, fist connecting with Caleb''s face. The impact sent him flying across the room.

    Veret''s eyes bulged in shock. "Wha-what?!" he sputtered, his earlierposure shattered.

    The noble demon stood silently, his scarlet eyes burning with barely contained rage. It was clear that this was no social call, and Caleb''s assumption of admiration couldn''t have been further from the truth.

 Chapter 106: Unknown Assailant

    <h4>Chapter 106: Unknown Assant</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The sight of this Horn superstar, Caleb, filled me with disgust. His face showed no hint of remorse for what he''d done to Clint and Benny. The audacity of him bragging about his fame to me... Without hesitation, I closed the distance between us and nted my fist squarely in his face.

    <i>Boom!</i>

    Caleb crashed into the nearby wall, crumpling to the floor.

    "Wh-what?!" The demon beside Caleb sputtered, pointing a shaky finger at me. "Why did you hurt my client?!"

    I fixed him with a cold stare. "And you are?"

    "I-I''m his mana-manager, Veret!" he stammered, trying to sound brave.

    "You''d better leave before I decide to do something to you too," I warned.

    Veret gulped, ncing at the unconscious Caleb before locking eyes with me once more. He didn''t need telling twice - he bolted, panic written all over his face.

    I knew he''d probably go for help, but I didn''t care. I wasn''t done with Caleb just yet.

    I approached Caleb''s limp form and roused him with a light punch. "Gah!" He jolted awake, pain etched across his features.

    "Rise and shine, sleepyhead. We''re not done yet," I chuckled darkly.

    "Why are you doing this?!" Caleb''s voice trembled with fear and anger. "What did I do to you?!"

    I shed my vampire teeth in a cold smile. "Nothing. I just felt like beating someone today. Lucky you."

    "Veret! Save me-" Caleb''s cry died in his throat as he realized his manager had abandoned him.

    "He left you to me," I informed him, my smile never wavering.

    As Caleb''s eyes widened in terror, I began the beating in earnest.

    "Don''t do it!"

    "Please stop, I beg you!"

    But his pleas fell on deaf ears. His shrieks of pain and agony filled the room as I exacted my revenge.

    A few minutester, I left Caleb battered on the ground. I made sure to leave him alive - I''m not a killer, after all. But I made damn sure he''d remember this lesson for a long, long time.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The next day, shocking headlines sshed across daily newspapers:

    "Horn Superstar Caleb Diamond Found Battered in Penthouse! Manager ims Noble Demon Assault!"

    At news stalls, people buzzed with disbelief. "A Noble Demon attacking Caleb? Can we trust this?"

    A nearby dwarf chimed in, "I''m skeptical of newstely. They''ve spread so much misinformation about the exiled prince''s new film."

    The newspapers'' credibility had indeed taken a hit after their unfounded criticism of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly." However, as more reputable sources corroborated the story, doubt began to waver.

    At the hospital, journalists crowded around Caleb''s battered form and his father, Police Commissioner Raff Diamond.

    "Any leads on who might have done this, Commissioner?" a reporter probed.

    Raff''s eyes turned to ice as he spoke, "One thing''s certain. I''ll find that demon, noble or not, and see him behind bars."

    His cold tone sent chills through the room. It was clear Raff was already plotting his revenge.

    After fielding questions, Raff had his officers escort the press out.

    He hoped the culprit would read the papers and quake in fear. Raff Diamond was on the hunt, and he wouldn''t rest until he found his prey.

    In the wake of Caleb Diamond''s assault, news broke about his earlier attack on Clint and Benny, the rising stars from "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly." The public was in uproar, struggling to reconcile the image of their beloved superstar with these violent acts.

    Media coverage was split. Some newspapers dismissed the allegations against Caleb as unreliable, while others reported them as fact. The Hellfire Agency''s decision to press charges lent credibility to the usations.

    Fans found themselves torn. Caleb''s devoted followers refused to believe their idol could be so cruel, clinging to supportive news outlets. Meanwhile, Clint and Benny''s new admirers felt vindicated by Caleb''s current predicament, seeing it as karmic justice.

    At the Central Police Station, investigators briefed Commissioner Raff Diamond on their findings.

    "From what we''ve gathered, your son did indeed assault those two rising stars-"

    Raff cut in sharply, "Make sure this doesn''t get out."

    "Of course, Commissioner."

    "Continue. What else?"

    The investigator cleared his throat. "We believe there''s a connection between the attacks. Shortly after Caleb beat those two, a demon infiltrated his penthouse and assaulted him."

    Raff''s brow furrowed. "Are you suggesting those rising stars took revenge on my son?"

    "It''s a possibility," the investigator nodded. "But there''s more. Your son is involved in various... activities that couldnd him in serious trouble."

    Raff nodded solemnly. He knew all too well the challenges of investigating his own son, whose shady dealings threatened to unravel everything.

    "What about the demon assant... Is it really a noble demon?" Raff asked, his voice tinged with concern.

    The investigator nodded grimly. "I''m afraid so, sir."

    Raff''s frown deepened. "Are you certain?"

    "Yes, Commissioner. The evidence supports it. He flew straight through your son''s penthouse windows. The broken ss and marks on the damaged floor corroborate Veret''s ount. Our investigation confirms it was indeed a high ranking demon."

    Raff sighed heavily, his hopes of an easier resolution dashed. Exacting revenge on a noble demon would be...plicated.

    "If it is a noble demon, we''re in for a real challenge," Raff mused. "And I doubt those rising stars have the connections to sic a noble demon on my son."

    The investigator hesitated before speaking. "But sir, what about the exiled prince, Arthur Morningstar? Maybe he-"

    Raff''sughter cut him off. "Impossible. It couldn''t be the exiled prince."

    "But he is a Morningstar, sir."

    Raff chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Indeed he is, but that ex-prince reportedly can''t even conjure a fireball, let alone fly."

    The investigator nodded, chastened.

    "Keep digging," Raff ordered. "Noble demon or not, we need to find him and understand why he attacked my son. And of course," his eyes hardened, "he must be punished for his actions."

    As the investigator left, Raff turned to the window, his mind racing. A noble demon assantplicated matters significantly. But he was determined to see justice - or was it vengeance? - served, no matter the obstacles.

    ***

    In the Hellfire Headquarters office, Klein approached Arthur, who was overseeing auditions for their next project.

    "Boss, did you hear about Caleb getting beaten in his penthouse?" Klein asked cautiously.

    Arthur chuckled, not looking up from his work. "Yeah... Guess karma works faster than we thought."

    Klein nodded, eyeing Arthur doubtfully. He recalled Arthur''s earlier words: ''I''ll make sure Clint and Benny get justice, one way or another.'' He couldn''t shake the suspicion that Arthur was involved, but quickly dismissed the thought. After all, the attacker was reportedly a noble demon who could fly - surely beyond Arthur''s capabilities.

    "Caleb''s concert''s been postponed because of the incident," Klein continued. "Serves him right, though."

    This caught Arthur''s attention. "He has a concert?"

    "Yes," Klein confirmed. "Ticket sales haven''t even started, and it''s already dyed."

    "When''s it supposed to be?" Arthur asked, his interest piqued.

    Confused by Arthur''s sudden curiosity, Klein exined, "In a few weeks." he added, "The concert was originally scheduled for two weeks from now, but it''s been postponed. Even though Caleb will fully recover in a few days, he won''t be able to perform then¡ªthe police are still investigating who assaulted him."

    Arthur nodded, his expression unreadable. "When tickets do go on sale, buy them all. Speak with my financial advisors to arrange it."

    Klein''s jaw dropped. "What? Why? You want to support that scumbag, boss?"

    "Of course not," Arthur''s smile turned cruel. "I want him to perform to an empty house."

    Klein was speechless.

    Arthurughed, clearly pleased with his n. "Imagine the headlines: ''No One Attends Caleb''s Concert.'' It''ll be epic."

    "That''s... that''s cruel, boss," Klein said, a note of fear in his voice.

 Chapter 107: New Genre: Grunge

    <h4>Chapter 107: New Genre: Grunge</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" continued its triumphant march, surpassing the hundred-million-dor mark at the box office. While it dominated in Morningstar, Horn, and Thorn, its sess in the United States of Empirica was nothing short of phenomenal.

    The film''s influence seeped into everyday life, with adults donning frontier-style clothing. Some towns in the Golden State seemed to have stepped back in time to the 1180s, echoing the era of Empirica''s civil war and frontier age.

    Meanwhile, the famous demon actor Damien Darkme watched this unfold with growing regret. His arrogant behavior during the audition, expecting special treatment from the exiled prince Arthur, now haunted him.

    He had dismissed Arthur''s project, believing it wouldn''t amount to much. The film''s resounding sess was a bitter pill to swallow.

    Swallowing his pride, Damien penned a message to his elder brother Rupert in Horn Kingdom using an expensivemunication scroll:

    "Elder Brother - I deeply regret my arrogant behavior towards Prince Arthur. You were right; I should have shown humility and respect. I hope he''ll consider me if he ns another big project. If he does, I''ll wait in line obediently and give my all in the audition. I''d be content with any role, even if it''s not the lead."

    Thirty minutester, Rupert read the message in his apartment. He sighed, shaking his head. "Looks like my stupid arrogant little brother finally learned his lesson the hard way."

    Rupert understood Damien''s change of heart. Watching "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" be a blockbuster in mere weeks was a powerful reality check. He couldn''t really me Damien for his bted epiphany.

    As Rupert pondered his response, he wondered if Arthur would give Damien another chance. In the cutthroat world of demon entertainment, second chances were rare. But then again, Arthur Morningstar had proven time and again that he didn''t y by the usual rules.

    ***

    In the newly built recording studio at Hellfire Headquarters, Arthur continued his efforts to shape James ze into a star. Despite his busy schedule with the uing film project and the Electronics Expo in Apple City, Arthur hadn''t forgotten about the blonde demon with musical dreams.

    James strummed an electric guitar, an instrument invented just a few years ago by jazz guitarists in Empirica. Its poprity was spreading, gaining traction in Empirica, Wales, and other music-loving kingdoms and countries, including Horn and parts of Morningstar.

    As James yed the melody from Arthur''s music sheet, Leo and others in the room couldn''t help but frown at the unfamiliar sound.

    "Boss," Leo ventured, doubt in his voice, "are you sure this sound will be epted? It seems... broken and unpolished."

    Arthur nodded confidently. "Of course. Trust my vision. James and I are creating a new genre in the music world."

    "A new genre?" Leo echoed, skepticism evident.

    Arthur smiled, then turned to James. "Take a break, James. Rest those fingers."

    James hesitated, his dedication clear. "But I need to practice more - to be as good as you!"

    "No doubt you will be," Arthur assured him. "But for now, let me borrow your guitar. I''ll demonstrate again, so you, Leo, and the others can better understand the genre I''m aiming for."

    James''s eyes lit up, remembering his private session with Arthur in the office where he''d heard Arthur perform a strange yet captivating song. He eagerly handed over the guitar.

    As Arthur positioned himself to y, the room fell silent with anticipation. Leo and the others leaned in, curious despite their doubts.

    With a strum of his fingers, Arthur unleashed a sound that was raw and unpolished, yet strangely captivating. Though simr to James'' ying, Arthur''s ying carried a fresh, catchy quality that set it apart.

    "Where do bad folks go when they die?

    They don''t go to heaven where the angels fly"

    Arthur''s voice, gritty and raspy, filled the room. The lyrics continued, painting a vivid, dark picture:

    "They go down to theke of fire and fry

    Won''t see ''em again till the fourth of July"

    James'' eyes widened in admiration, captivated by Arthur''s unique vocal style. Leo and the others, initially skeptical, found themselves drawn in, unable to look away.

    Arthur''s performance was a rollercoaster of emotions - aggressive one moment, fragile and vulnerable the next, then softening unexpectedly. It defied their usual tastes, yet they couldn''t help but listen, rooted to the spot.

    Unconsciously, they began to mimic Arthur''s movements - bobbing their heads, tapping their feet. The music seemed to possess them.

    As Arthur repeated the final lines and let thest notes of the guitar fade, the room fell into stunned silence. Then, as if breaking from a spell, James began to p, the others quickly joining in.

    "Thank you, thank you," Arthur chuckled, waving off the apuse.

    Inwardly, he felt a surge of satisfaction. The {Grunge Vocal Style} skill he''d purchased from the system''s music category had proven its worth. He''d just introduced apletely new genre to this world, and judging by the reactions, it was going to make waves.

    Leo, still pping, looked at Arthur with newfound respect. "So that''s the new genre you were talking about, boss?"

    Arthur nodded, a smile ying on his lips. "Yes. It might sound unpolished, gritty - but you''d be surprised how many people will connect with it."

    "I can see why," Leo admitted, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Even I was captivated. I can''t quite exin it."

    Arthur chuckled. "That''s the power of music."

    Joseph, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. "What will you call this new genre, boss?"

    Arthur paused, letting the anticipation build. "It will be called ''Grunge''."

    "Grunge?" Leo repeated, his nose wrinkling slightly at the ugly-sounding name.

    "Grunge will be the new genre where artists can express honesty," Arthur exined, his eyes alight with passion.

    Confusion rippled through the room at the mention of ''honesty''. Only James, who had been privy to Arthur''s thoughts on the genre, seemed to understand.

    Noticing their bewilderment, Arthur borated. "In grunge, it''s not about polished sound. It''s about the raw honesty of the artist. They cany themselves bare, without smoothing rough edges or making things pretty for the sake of perfection. It''s about being real."

    A hush fell over the room as Arthur''s words sank in. James looked particrly inspired.

    "In Grunge, it doesn''t matter if you scream, whisper, or y a jagged guitar riff. People are tired of the fake, the glossy, the manufactured," Arthur continued, his voice cool but filled with conviction. "There''s a saying, ''Honesty is the best policy.'' We''re going to introduce a music genre that embodies that truth."

    Arthur''s words resonated deeply with the group. While some struggled to grasp the full meaning, Leo, James, Joseph, and a few others seemed to understand the core message: ''Don''t be a hypocrite. Embrace truth and honesty.''

    As Arthur headed towards his office after the enlightening lecture, he encountered Rupert in the hallway. "Oh, Rupert. What''s up?"

    Rupert looked ufortable, clearly there on an awkward mission. He spoke on behalf of his younger brother, Damien, expressing the actor''s regret and his desire to be part of Arthur''s next big film project.

    "Is that so?" Arthur mused. "He''s always wee to audition. But he needs to check his ego at the door and line up like everyone else. Can he do that?"

    "Yes, yes. He promised he''ll behave," Rupert assured, gratitude evident in his voice.

    Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "I remember hisst audition. It seemed like he wasn''t giving it his all."

    "He swears he''ll do his best this time," Rupert said with a smile. "He''s quite talented, after all. His fame isn''t for nothing. It''s just... it gets to his head sometimes."

    "Fair enough," Arthur conceded. "Make sure he signs up for the audition soon. I''ll be heading to Apple City for the Electronics Expo shortly, so time is of the essence."

    Rupert''s eyebrows raised at the mention of the Electronics Expo, curiosity evident on his face. But he knew better than to pry into Arthur''s affairs.

    As Rupert left, Arthur couldn''t help but reflect on the situation. Damien''s change of heart was interesting, to say the least.

 Chapter 108: Tempting Mission Reward and... is this actor Bruce..?

    <h4>Chapter 108: Tempting Mission Reward and... is this actor Bruce..?</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I''m rushing to get this next film project off the ground - a martial arts movie.

    Honestly, I didn''t want to rush another film, but the {entertainment system} dangled a mission with a reward too tempting to ignore. Originally, I nned to wait until the VFX Studio was finished to make my next movie. Maybe even finally film that epic "Star Wars" - but that''s impossible without the VFX capabilities.

    So what''s this mission with the irresistible reward?

    <strong>[Mission: Produce two critically acimed films without relying on a VFX studio, each grossing over one hundred million dors.]</strong>

    <strong>[Reward: Creator''s Realms]</strong>

    Just looking at it makes me itch toplete it immediately.

    The {Creator''s Realms}. It''s an OP Ability if I''ve ever seen one. I can''t ignore this.

    Even with the Electronics Expo looming, I''mser-focused on this martial arts film.

    Reading the ability''s description again, I can hardly wait to make these two sessful films and im this power:

    <strong>[Creator''s Realms: Unlock the ability to traverse into the fictional worlds you have created in the real world. However, you can only enter the worlds of your creations that have achieved significant poprity and sess in reality.]</strong>

    <strong>[Level 1: You can step into the realm of one of your sessful fictions. However, your time within the fictional world is limited to one real-world day. The time spent within the fictional world may differ, as the time flow varies between each universe.]</strong>

    Reading up to this made my blood pump with pure, unadulterated excitement.

    If I gain this ability - my future possibilities are endless!

    I could enter the world of films, novels, manga, anime, or even video games, as long as they became wildly sessful in reality.

    I can''t afford to screw up the development of this uing film project. The stakes are too high, the potential too great.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The next day, Arthur found himself growing increasingly frustrated as the auditions for his new film project failed to yield satisfactory results.

    "Sigh," Arthur exhaled heavily. "We need to find our lead fast - we can''t afford to drag this out any longer."

    Klein, Mochi, and other crew members exchanged puzzled nces before Klein spoke up. "Boss, I''ve been noticing... you seem unusually impatient about this new film''s developmenttely. It''s like you''re in a rush to finish it as soon as possible."

    Mochi nodded in agreement. "Right. Even during ''Lord of the Rings'' or the western film, you weren''t like this."

    Arthur looked slightly embarrassed but attempted to exin, "It''s natural, guys. The Electronics Expo ising up. I need to be there-"

    "You don''t need to concern yourself with the expo," a voice interrupted.

    It was George, striding into the room with confidence. "Drake, Josh, and I will handle it. We''ll do just fine attracting talents in Apple City for you."

    Arthur eyed George doubtfully. "You sure you can handle it?"

    George chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "What do you take me for? I might be a bit clumsy with inventions that asionally explode, but I''m still a smart dwarf who can handle small tasks."

    Arthur''s skepticism was evident, but George pressed on. "Just let me do it," he insisted. "I''ve noticed how eager you are to make this new film, for whatever reason. You focus on that, and we''ll take care of the expo."

    After a moment''s hesitation, Arthur sighed, relief washing over his features. "Alright," he conceded.

    George nodded confidently. "We''ll be all set to head to Apple City tomorrow."

    Arthur patted his shoulder. "I wish you luck."

    "Thanks for that luck, Arthur," George grinned. "Sometimes I forget you''re lucky not because you''re an idiot, but because you''re lucky to have me."

    Arthur''s expression turnedically nk. His look screamed, "You''re still not going to let that go, are you?"

    He recalled his ill-fatedment about "idiots being favored by luck," meant for George but misinterpreted as self-deprecation. Klein and the others stifledughs at the memory.

    Arthur, slightly embarrassed, shooed George away, turning his attention back to the auditions.

    Suddenly, a familiar face stepped onto the audition floor, causing a stir among the crew.

    "Whoa, that''s Damien Darkme!" Klein eximed, shocked.

    "What''s he doing here in Horn Kingdom?"

    "Isn''t it obvious? He''s here to audition."

    "I see..."

    While the others were surprised, Arthur had expected this, recalling his conversation with Rupert.

    "Which role are you auditioning for?" Arthur asked, curious to see how Damien would approach this.

    To everyone''s astonishment, Damien bowed humbly. "I''ll be auditioning for a side character."

    The room fell silent, stunned by this deration. Even Arthur raised an eyebrow, taken aback. The proud Damien Darkme, settling for a side character? It seemed the conversation with his brother had truly humbled him.

    Arthur''s surprise gave way to an approving smile. "Alright," he said, leaning forward with interest. "Let''s see what you can do."

    As Damien prepared for his audition, Arthur couldn''t help but feel a mix of curiosity and satisfaction.

    This was a far cry from the arrogant star who had demanded special treatment before. Perhaps there was hope for Damien after all.

    Damien began his performance,unching into a martial arts choreography that immediately caught everyone''s attention. His body movements spoke volumes about the techniques he was employing.

    The choreography was recognizable - a watered-down version of legitimate martial arts skills used by Knights and Warriors from the Martial Arts Academy. While it might not have been impressive in real life, Arthur knew it would trante well to film.

    Arthur''s mind wandered to the old days of ck and white demon films, where even subpar martial arts looked spectacr on screen. His introduction of color films had changed the game, but the new cameras had also exposed the ws in many martial arts performances.

    Damien''s movements were undoubtedly polished, likely from his extensive film experience. Yet, Arthur could see that to make it truly convincing on modern film, Damien would need to push his skills further.

    As Damien finished his routine, Arthur nodded appreciatively. "Alright. Very impressive performance," he said, offering polite apuse.

    Damien bowed in gratitude, his humility still evident.

    "But you still have room for improvement," Arthur continued, his tone constructive rather than critical. "Would you be open to rehearsals with a professional Horn choreographer?"

    "I''m fine with that," Damien replied with a smile, his eagerness to improve apparent.

    Arthur smiled at Damien''s cooperative nature. It was a relief to see him so amenable, especially given Arthur''s urgency to start the film.

    "Next!" Arthur called out as Damien exited the audition room.

    As the next actor entered, Arthur kept his head down, jotting notes about Damien''s performance.

    Klein took the lead. "Your name?"

    "Hello," the actor bowed respectfully. "My name is Lee Jun-fan. It''s a pleasure to meet you!"

    Arthur''s eyebrows shot up at the name. ''Lee Jun-fan?'' It rang a bell, tugging at his memories.

    When Arthur finally raised his head to look at the actor, his eyes widened in shock.

    "Um... Is- is something the matter?" Jun-fan asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he noticed Arthur''s wide-eyed stare.

    Klein, picking up on the strange atmosphere, turned to Arthur. Seeing his boss''s shocked expression, as if he''d seen a ghost, Klein nudged him gently. "Boss, boss!" he whispered urgently.

    Arthur snapped out of his trance, blinking rapidly as he focused on Klein.

    "Are you alright?" Klein asked, concern evident in his voice.

    "I''m fine," Arthur nodded, his voice steadier than he felt.

    Despite his assurance, Arthur was deeply shaken. The actor standing before him wasn''t remarkable for being exceptionally handsome or unusually ugly. No, what struck Arthur was how uncannily simr Jun-fan looked to Bruce Lee from his previous life.

    This Lee Jun-fan could have been Bruce Lee''s clone, transported across dimensions and time.

    Arthur leaned forward, his interest piqued. "You may begin your performance, Lee Jun-fan," he said, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

    Jun-fan nodded, a flicker of nervousness crossing his features. He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath to center himself. As he exhaled, a transformation seemed toe over him.

    In an explosive burst of energy, Jun-fanunched into a series of movements that were clearly more than mere choreography. His body flowed with a grace and power that spoke of years of dedicated training.

    "Wait¡ª" Arthur''s voice cut through the air, halting Jun-fan mid-motion.

    Jun-fan froze, anxiety creeping into his voice. "Is something the matter?"

    Arthur cleared his throat, trying to mask his growing excitement. "Are you using actual martial arts?"

    "Y-yes!" Jun-fan stammered, nodding vigorously. His eyes darted nervously as he added, "Is it not allowed?"

    "No, no. It''s fine," Arthur assured him, waving his hand dismissively. "I was just surprised to see an actor with knowledge of real martial arts. And from the looks of it, this isn''t just any ordinary style."

    Jun-fan''s posture rxed slightly as he exined, "Actually, the martial arts was taught to me by a famous old demon martial artist in the Morningstar Kingdom..."

    "Is that so?" Arthur stroked his chin, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. The wheels in his mind were already turning, imagining the possibilities this unexpected development could bring to his film.

 Chapter 109: Electronics Expo

    <h4>Chapter 109: Electronics Expo</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The presence of a Bruce Lee doppelganger before me was tempting fate. For a moment, I toyed with the idea of scrapping my current project in favor of recreating "Enter the Dragon." But I quickly dismissed the notion. "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" was already in motion, and it felt wrong to suddenly change course.

    Besides, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" was a masterpiece in its own right, easily capable of reaching a hundred million at the box office. If executed properly, the film could likely hit that mark in the three demon kingdoms alone: Morningstar, Horn, and Thorn.

    I''d already decided: Lee Jun-fan would portray the character of Li Mu Bai.

    To most, the name "Li Mu Bai" might sound peculiar, but not so much in the demon kingdoms. It was a quirk of this world that demon culture shared surprising simrities with Chinese culture from my previous life. I wasn''t Chinese in that life, but even I could recognize that the demons'' ancientnguage was essentially Chinese, though it had long since fallen into extinction, leaving no one able to read it anymore.

    Names like "Lee Jun-fan," "Wang," "Yu," and "Lee" still existed among demons, but their bearers likely had no idea of their meanings. These Chinese-sounding names were bing increasingly rare, phased out by the ubiquitous mon tongue" or "World''s Language" that had somehow be the global standard.

    It wasn''t just demonnguages that had vanished into the mists of time. Many human, elven, and dwarven kingdoms and countries had also lost their original tongues. I often wondered what cataclysmic event could have led to such widespread linguistic homogenization.

    The elves and dwarves, to their credit, still clung to vestiges of their ancientnguages. They had elders who could speak the old tongues, but even among their own kind, the vast majority couldn''t read or understand a single word of their ancestral scripts.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The Hellfire team fanned out across Horn Kingdom, scouting for the perfect filming locations for "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." Fortune smiled upon Arthur; the kingdom boasted a diversendscape that seemed tailor-made for his vision. Ancient viges, stubbornly clinging to tradition amidst a modernizing world, stood frozen in time. Undeveloped forests and majestic mountains offered the perfect backdrop for the film''s more rugged scenes.

    For the desert sequences, the team made an unconventional choice: the kingdom''s secluded beaches. It was here that Arthur now stood with his crew, the soft sand crunching beneath their feet as they surveyed the potential shooting location.

    Eli, a demoness heading the illusion team, walked alongside Arthur, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "With our new technique, we can efficiently use illusion magic to transform this beach into the desert for our film," she exined, gesturing towards the expanse of sand and sea before them.

    Arthur nodded, his interest piqued. "So you''ve mastered those new film techniques we discussed?"

    Eli''s face broke into a proud smile. "Yes, boss," she confirmed, barely containing her enthusiasm. "By implementing our newly developed illusion artifact directly into our camera, we can create backdrop illusions more efficiently than ever before."

    A look of satisfaction crossed Arthur''s face as he absorbed this information. Theirtest innovation was an artifact imbued with illusion magic, designed to be embedded directly into the camera lens. Through this enchanted lens, they could conjure a convincing desert backdrop, seamlessly recing the sea.

    Of course, there were limitations. The illusion would only cover the seaward side of the beach, and actors would be confined to the sandy shore. The camera, too, would need to remain stationary. But Arthur saw these not as obstacles, but as creative challenges.

    "This technique will be perfect for our wide shots and distant scenes," Arthur mused aloud. "For close-ups, we can easily manage without the illusion."

    ***

    While Hellfire Studio bustled with preparations for their uing film, another spectacle was unfolding across the sea in Empirica. The Electronics Expo in Apple City had drawn inventors and innovators from all corners of the worlda?"humans, elves, and dwarves alike showcasing theirtest technological marvels.

    Despite Empirica being predominantly human, it was the dwarves who stole the show. Their reputation for genius preceded them, and they were weed with open arms in countries and kingdoms far and wide, Empirica included.

    The expo hall hummed with excitement, but nowhere was the crowd thicker than in the section devoted to electronics and mechanical wonders. At the heart of this throng stood Billy Dark, a dwarf of considerable renown. Hispany, DARK ELECTRONICS, was a billion-dor enterprise whose products had be integral to daily life across the globe.

    Today, Billy and his team were unveiling theirtest creation: a mechanical puppet powered by a magic core. With a simple push of a button on its back, the puppet could perform a variety of household tasksa?"sweeping floors, washing dishes, and more.

    "Wow! This is an amazing development, Mr. Dark!" an onlooker eximed, eyes wide with wonder.

    Another voice chimed in, "As expected from Mr. Dark. It''s an incredible invention."

    Billy acknowledged the praise with a modest smile. "It can be easilymanded by a simple push of a button," he exined, demonstrating by pressing the ''dishes'' button. The puppet immediately set aside its broom and began washing tes in the kitchen demo area.

    A tech journalist pushed forward, notepad at the ready. "How much will this cost if it''s released to the public, Mr. Dark?"

    "It won''t be much," Billy replied, his eyes twinkling. "Maybe around 299 or 499 dors for a basic puppet. The advanced model will be 499."

    "That''s very cheap," another journalist remarked. "Having one puppet is like having a servant."

    Billy nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes," he agreed. "With just a monthly change of an inferior magic core, it''s much cheaper than paying a servant. And with a high-quality magic core, the puppet can remain powered for several months."

    Yet as impressive as Billy''s invention was, other innovators, both famous and unknown, were showcasing their own technological prototypes throughout the expo.

    In the less popr section of the expo, where neers to the electronics industry disyed their creations, foot traffic was sparse. Only a few curious onlookers wandered through, ncing at the various stalls.

    George, along with Drake and Josh, sat silently at their booth as people passed by, barely sparing them a nce.

    "What do we do now, boss George?" Drake asked nervously, his difort evident.

    Drake and Josh, having spent months working behindputers, were clearly out of their element in this public setting. Their introverted natures didn''t help matters.

    George, while more extroverted, found himself at a loss. But he''d promised his friend Arthur he''d do his best, so he steeled himself to make the most of this opportunity.

    Just as George was pondering how to motivate his team, a human journalist approached their stall.

    "What kind of product are you guys presenting?" the man asked, curiosity piqued.

    George stood up quickly, gesturing to theputer on the table. "We''re introducing aputer! It''s a groundbreaking invention from Hellfire Electronics!"

    The journalist furrowed his brows. "Hellfire Electronics?" The name was unfamiliar, though not unusual for this section of the expo. Still, the word ''Hellfire'' rang a distant bell.

    "Yes, yes. We''re from Hellfire Electronics," George grinned, seizing the moment. He introduced hispanions, "These two led the development of thisputer technology we''re presenting."

    The journalist nodded. "I see, I see. What does thisputer do?" He gestured at the device, "It looks like a television and that... fancy typewriter?"

    Drake and Josh, sensing their cue,unched into an exnation of theputer''s capabilities, demonstrating the operating system and its functions.

    The journalist, who introduced himself as Mack Eagle, listened with growing interest. "Wow... This is incredible dwarven technology. As expected of the dwarves."

    "Um... It''s not dwarven," Drake corrected. "In fact, it''s an invention of our boss Arthur. He''s a demon."

    Mack frowned, doubt creeping into his expression. "A demon?" he paused before asking, "If he''s the inventor, why isn''t he here?"

    "Uh... He''s actually busy making a film..." George admitted.

    "Making a film?" Mack''s confusion deepened.

    "Yeah. I don''t know if you know him, but he''s Arthur Morningstar," George exined.

    Mack''s eyes widened as the name registered. ''Are you kidding me?''

 Chapter 110: The Computer

    <h4>Chapter 110: The Computer</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Mack Eagle''s eyes were wide with disbelief. "You guys were serious?" he asked, his voice a mix of skepticism and awe. "Is this really the invention of that infamous prince?"

    The idea that the exiled prince, renowned in the film industry, was now venturing into the tech world seemed almost too fantastical to believe.

    "Yes," Josh replied, his voice brimming with admiration. "Without boss Arthur, thisputer wouldn''t have been possible!"

    Drake nodded enthusiastically, adding, "Boss Arthur is a genius among demons!"

    Mack nodded along, though doubt still lingered in his eyes. Seeking to understand more, he probed further, "So thisputer has a spell library - and it can conjure spells?"

    Drake''s confidence grew as he delved into familiar territory. "Yes, but it''s limited to illusion or weak spells," he exined. "Any powerful spells would be too much for it to handle."

    Josh chimed in, eager to borate. "Thisputer was primarily designed to enhance boss Arthur''s filmmaking. It can link to the VFX Studio and control it efficiently, making the illusions in the studio more seamless!"

    Understanding began to dawn on Mack''s face. "So thisputer is primarily for filmmaking purposes?"

    Drake and Josh nodded in unison, but Drake added with a hint of excitement, "That''s the core function - but it seems our boss has bigger ns for this technology."

    Josh jumped in, "Ourputer can solve mathematical problems with ease. While it can''t handle overlyplex calctions yet, it''s far more efficient than manual counting."

    Mack''s journalistic instincts kicked in as he saw potential applications. "Oh? Thisputer could be useful for elections too, then? It could count votes more easily?"

    "Yes, something like that," Josh confirmed with a nod.

    As Drake and Josh conversed animatedly with Mack, George found himself fading into the background. He watched his teammates, surprisingly adept at handling the journalist''s questions, and couldn''t help but wonder, ''Am I useful here?''

    He observed Drake and Josh, once shy and reserved, now confidently exiningplex technology to a curious journalist.

    As Mack continued to probe the capabilities of theputer, his initial skepticism gave way to astonishment. What he had first dismissed as merely a television with a fancy typewriter was revealing itself to be a technological marvel capable of far more than he had imagined.

    His pen flew across his notebook, jotting down details about theputer. The fact that this invention came from the infamous prince Arthur Morningstar added an extrayer of intrigue. Mack could already envision the attention his article would attract, linking the world of cutting-edge technology with the already famous filmmaker.

    Eager to see theputer in action, Mack asked, "Can you do a demo of theputer conjuring an illusion spell?"

    "Of course," Drake replied confidently, nodding to Josh.

    Mack watched intently as Josh''s fingers danced across the keyboard. Letters appeared on the monitor in real-time, mirroring Josh''s typing. It struck Mack that theputer was indeed like a typewriter, but instead of imprinting on paper, the words materialized on the screen.

    The text on the monitor, however, was a mystery to Mack. Complex strings of characters scrolled by, their meaning beyond hisprehension. When Josh finally stopped typing and hit the ''enter'' button, Mack held his breath in anticipation.

    Suddenly, a massive fireball erupted from theputer screen, hurtling directly towards Mack. His eyes widened in terror.

    "No!" he cried out, instinctively covering his head and bracing for impact. In that split second, Mack could almost feel the heat of the mes, his mind already conjuring images of being scorched to ash.

    But when he cautiously opened his eyes, he found himself unharmed. The fireball had passed right through him, continuing its path towards a nearby stall. Dwarves at the neighboring booth scrambled away in panic, only for the fireball to pass harmlessly through their disy as well.

    Laughter erupted from Drake, Josh, and George. Mack, his heart still racing, looked at them in confusion. "Wha-what was that..."

    Drake, still chuckling, exined, "It was an illusion spell!"

    Josh added with a grin, "Ourputer couldn''t conjure such a huge fireball!"

    "Damn," Mack muttered, a mix of relief and embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

    As his pulse slowly returned to normal, Mack couldn''t help but be impressed. The illusion had been so convincing, so vivid, that he had truly believed he was in danger.

    "Who... Who did that!?" The dwarves at the neighboring stall, faces flushed with embarrassment, whirled towards Drake and the others. Their outburst caught the attention of nearby onlookers, who began drifting towards the Hellfire booth.

    Drake, Josh, and George stumbled through apologies, expecting a tirade. But as they exined the source of the illusion, the dwarves'' anger morphed into astonishment.

    "That tiny thing summoned that spell?" one dwarf asked, eyeing theputer skeptically.

    Before long, it wasn''t just Mack clustered around their booth. A growing crowd of curious expo-goers pressed in, hungry for a glimpse of this so called puter".

    ***

    The next day, Mack''s article about the Electronics Expo hit the stands. While he praised various innovations, two details about the Hellfire prototype puter" set tongues wagging:

    It could conjure illusion and weak spells.

    The device was the brainchild of the infamous ex-prince, Arthur Morningstar.

    The impact was immediate. The once-quiet neer section saw a surge in foot traffic. It still couldn''t match the prominent section, but the improvement from yesterday was stark.

    They came in droves, all moring to see the puter" with their own eyes. A few investors, scenting opportunity, approached George about potential partnerships.

    His response never varied: "I don''t have a say on this. Maybe you could go to Horn Kingdom and talk to my boss Arthur."

    George wasn''t idle, though. He began scouting talented dwarves who showed particr interest inputer development, extending invitations to join them in Horn Kingdom.

    By the third day, word of the puter" had spread like wildfire. The neer section now rivaled the prominent area in buzz and excitement.

    Even industry titans like Billy Dark couldn''t ignore the chatter. The famous inventor found his attention drawn to this upstart technology that was stealing some of his thunder.

    When Billy Dark finally deigned to see theputer for himself, his reaction was far from the awe many expected. He grudgingly admitted it seemed impressive, but it fell short of his lofty expectations. What particrly irked him was the need for coding to perform even simple spells.

    His disdain was palpable during an interview with tech journalists. When asked, "Mr. Dark, there''s a dark horse at this expo called the Computer. It''s the invention of the exiled prince and is imed to be revolutionary technology. What are your thoughts about it?"

    Billy''s lip curled into a sneer. "Revolutionary technology? Hardly. I''ll grant that it could aid in calctions and filmmaking, but revolutionary? A truly revolutionary product is one that''s easily produced and used by the masses."

    He leaned forward, his voice dripping with derision. "Thisputer? It''s neither easy to produce nor simple to use. If you can''t speak its so-called puternguage'', you''re out of luck. How is that revolutionary for the average person?"

    His words, though harsh, carried a kernel of truth. Theputer, in its current state, wasn''t exactly user-friendly for theyperson. Its manufacturing process wasplex, too.

    But Billy''s criticism wasn''t purely about the product''s merits. As a shrewd businessman, he saw little value in products that couldn''t be easily mass-produced or widely adopted. In his eyes, developing such niche items was a waste of resources and effort.

    Yet, not everyone shared Billy''s pessimistic view. Other businessmen, both peers of Dark and up-anders, were already scheming ways to acquire licensing rights from Arthur or invest in the technology. They saw potential where Billy saw problems.

    Some envisioned theputer as a potential weapon, capable of conjuring forbidden spells. Others recognized its value forplex calctions. A few forward-thinkers even imaginedputers automating tasks in their factories.

    These visionaries, perhaps more perceptive than Billy, could see the far-reaching implications of the puter". They understood that sometimes, true innovation isn''t immediately essible to all, but that doesn''t diminish its potential to reshape the world.

 Chapter 111: Starting and... Ending...

    <h4>Chapter 111: Starting and... Ending...</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" auditions wrapped up. Vivienne snagged the role of Yu Shu Lien, and she''s over the moon about it.

    Shafel''s ying Jen Yu, while the antagonist Jade Fox goes to January, a forty-year-old actress. January''s thrilled - this could be her big break.

    Lee Jun-fan''s taking on Li Mu Bai, and Damien Darkme''s set to y the bandit Lo.

    We''re at this old demon mansion we rented in Dragon Walled City. The crew''s busy setting up, and Lee Jun-fan''s looking jittery as hell.

    "You alright there, Jun-fan?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

    "Yeah, yeah," he nodded, not too convincingly. "Just a bit nervous."

    "That''s normal, especially for a newbie," I said, aiming to calm him down. "Just rx and focus on your role. Don''t overthink it."

    "Got it, boss Arthur," Jun-fan bowed, all formal-like.

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Boss?"

    "Is he wrong, boss?" Vivienne chimed in, appearing out of nowhere.

    I just shook my head, smiling.

    Vivienne turned to Jun-fan. "Look, rookie, I get it. But like boss Arthur said, you gotta rx."

    Jun-fan nodded. "Yeah, I''m just... it''s a lot. Never thought I''dnd a lead in a martial arts film. It''s been my dream, you know?"

    "Alright, kid," Vivienne said, "save the emotions for the camera. We''ve got a movie to make, and we can''t have you distracting the boss with waterworks."

    "Right, sorry," Jun-fan chuckled, looking a bit sheepish.

    "Jun-fan, eat this first. It''ll get you in shape before filming starts." A woman appeared, holding out some food.

    Jun-fan introduced her, "This is Linda. My girlfriend."

    "I see..." I nodded, but Vivienne couldn''t resist teasing, "Is someone getting jealous here?"

    Her words were clearly aimed at me. I rolled my eyes and pped her butt, "Get to work!"

    Vivienne''s eyes widened, "Wow, didn''t expect you to touch me like that!"

    "It''s not what you think!" I protested, but noticing Vivienne''s mischievous grin, I just waved her off to work.

    She shrugged and headed to the makeup artists.

    Thirty minutester, filming began. Jun-fan was really nervous at first. We had to reshoot a few times before he settled in and started acting well.

    His performance improved, partly due to my use of {Heartstrings} in some shots, and partly because of Linda silently cheering him on.

    Days passed like this - we filmed scenes in various parts of the Horn Kingdom.

    Since we were filming in public and the project wasn''t a secret, the Horn media quickly caught wind of it.

    I read the newspaper headline: "Arthur''s New Twist: Director Leaps into Martial Arts Film"

    "Looks like your film''s stirring up buzz again," a familiar voice said. I turned to see old Rocky.

    "Old Rocky..." I nodded. He''d settled well in the Horn Kingdom, though I''d begun to suspect there was more to him than met the eye.

    Since gaining the {Primal Morningstar} bloodline ability, I''d noticed Rocky''s knack for appearing undetected. Even with my new powers, this old demon''s stealth skills were impressive. He''d pop up like some demon Batman.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    As weeks passed, spection about Arthur''s fourth film ran wild in the media. But unlike before, they weren''t just slinging mud.

    Horn media outlets had learned their lesson after the "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" fiasco. Instead of pre-judging, they spected on how Arthur might revive or ruin the martial arts genre.

    One headline read: "Morningstar''s Martial Arts Gamble: Renaissance or Ruins for the Genre?"

    Walter Forest, a respected industry expert, wrote in the Powerful Times: "Arthur''s track record speaks for itself. But after ''Demonfather'' and ''Lord of the Rings'', his third film didn''t quite hit the same heights. It''s hard to predict if he''ll deliver a groundbreaking martial arts film or if the pressure''s finally caught up with him. Producing three films in under a year is no small feat ¨C some stumbles are inevitable."

    Meanwhile in the Morningstar Kingdom, media outlets were also buzzing about Arthur''s fourth film. What really caught them off guard was Damien Darkme taking a side role in the ex-prince''stest project.

    A monkey demon, reading the newspaper, shook his head. "Damien Darkme''s career must be tanking if he''s settling for a side character in the ex-prince''s film."

    His friend, a half-elf half-demon, disagreed. "Nah, Damien''s always doing fine. Maybe he just wants in on Arthur''s film. The guy''s made three solid hits. He''s a credit to us demons!"

    "You''ve got a point," the monkey demon admitted, then added with a sigh, "Still can''t figure out why he''d leave our kingdom though..."

    His friend chuckled. "You haven''t heard? It''s obviously because of Her Highness Lucy''s unfair film taxes!"

    "Yeah, but isn''t he getting incentives for his films?"

    The friend shook his head. "From what I''ve heard, nope. No incentives."

    "Sigh. Maybe it''s a family thing. Word is the exiled prince isn''t exactly chummy with his siblings," the monkey demon mused.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Weeks flew by, and we''re finally wrapping up "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" with Shafel''s big scene as Jen Yu, leaping off the bridge.

    Shafel looked a bit green as she prepared to jump, but I wasn''t worried. My wizard team had her secured with some heavy-duty magical yet powerful threads.

    As she took the plunge, our ghost camera crew swooped after her, capturing every moment of the fall.

    I nodded, impressed. "Looks like the ghost team''s been practicing their shots."

    Jun-fan, still wide-eyed, muttered beside me, "I still can''t wrap my head around ghosts helping with the filming."

    Vivienne just chuckled, clearly used to the weirdness by now.

    I kept my eyes on Shafel''s descent, noticing Firfel fretting nearby. No need for that - worst case, I''d sprout my wings and y catch. Luckily, it didn''te to that.

    "Cut!" I called out, and the wizard team smoothly halted Shafel''s fall. She looked mighty relieved as they pulled her back up to the bridge.

    I chuckled, feeling the weight ofpletion. Time to review the footage.

    Our ghost cameramen trio - Diddy, Puffy, and Daddy - hovered nervously as I checked their work.

    "B-boss, how''d we do?" Diddy asked, his voice quavering.

    Puffy puffed up, trying to sound confident. "We nailed it, right? All that practice..."

    "Rx, boys. I led the shot, so we''re golden," Daddy, the burliest ghost, asserted. But I caught a hint of worry in his ethereal eyes.

    I smiled warmly at the spectral crew. "Guys, you''ve got nothing to fear. You all did great."

    The ghosts visibly rxed - well, as much as ghosts can. They even let out sighs of relief, which was pretty amusing considering theirck of lungs.

    "You really gave them those weird names. Are they pets to you?" Firfel suddenly piped up beside me, eyebrow raised.

    I grinned. "I think they like my naming skills." I turned to the ghosts. "Right? You guys like your names?"

    Puffy, Daddy, and Diddy all nodded enthusiastically, reminding me of bobblehead dolls.

    "Yeah, yeah," Puffy chirped.

    Daddy''s face contorted into what I assumed was meant to be a smile. "I love it! A wonderful name!"

    Not to be outdone, Diddy chimed in, "I like the name you''ve given me, boss! And my brothers'' names too!"

    I nced at Diddy''s brothers nearby, White and Party, who were nodding just as vigorously.

    Firfel shook her head, a mix of amusement and exasperation on her face.

    Ignoring her reaction, I pped my hands, addressing the whole crew. "Alright, boys and girls! Time to celebrate wrapping up our film!"

    A cheer went up from the crew, living and dead alike. Even the ghosts who''d been helping with the filming joined in the excitement.

    Firfel rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile on her face. "You and your strange little family," she muttered, but there was no real bite to her words.

 Chapter 112: First Video Game and... Why is it so empty here?

    <h4>Chapter 112: First Video Game and... Why is it so empty here?</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    With the film wrapped up, I turned my attention to theputer research team. Time to see how the new recruits were faring.

    Most of the fresh faces George brought back from the Electronics Expo were dwarves, their stubby fingers surprisingly nimble on the keyboards. A handful of humans had also joined, their eyes gleaming with excitement for the project.

    Of course, I wasn''t taking any chances. Each new member had signed a high-level magical contract. Try to b about our work, and they''d find themselves suddenly mute on the topic.

    The scrolls for these contracts didn''te cheap, but the secrecy was worth every gold coin.

    I strode into the secret warehouse where ourputer was taking shape. Drake and Josh immediately cornered me, eager to recount their progress.

    As I listened, I couldn''t help but feel impressed. At this rate, we might see "Hellfire OS 1" within six months to a year. It''d be basic, sure - about on par with Windows 1 - but considering Microsoft took four years to develop their first OS, we were making incredible time.

    Our edge? A perfect blend of talent, round-the-clock work, and a dash of magic. That spell transferring code from paper straight into theputer system was a real time-saver. No need for tedious retyping.

    I watched a dwarf scribble some code, then wave his hand. The paper glowed briefly before the text vanished, and a nearby screen lit up with the newly added lines.

    Of course, besides developing the operating system, my team''s been working on those games I told them about.

    Drake approached me. "Boss, thatputer program you asked for? We finished it a week ago. Want to see if we did it right?"

    "You followed my n to the letter?" I asked.

    Josh nodded. "Yes. That ''Space Invader'' program isplete."

    "Let''s take a look," I said, feeling a thrill at the thought of seeing the world''s first video game.

    We headed to anotherputer. Josh booted it up, and there it was - Space Invaders on the screen!

    "This is good... You guys did great," I smiled, impressed.

    Drake handed me the controller. "This is the device that can help youmunicate with the program, boss."

    "Actually, Drake, this is called a ''game controller''," I exined.

    Drake and Josh exchanged puzzled nces.

    "And this ''Space Invader'' program? It''s called a ''video game''," I added.

    "I... see..." Drake nodded, looking a bit confused.

    Josh piped up, "So we''ve been developing... not a crucial program, but a ''game'' for people to kill time?"

    I chuckled at Josh''s words. "That''s about right." But I couldn''t help adding, "There''s a saying - video games are medicine that fill your heart with joy and happiness."

    Drake and Josh''s expressions clearly said, ''Was there ever such a saying?''

    Okay, I made that up.

    Anyway, I started up Space Invaders and began to y. Drake and Josh watched curiously, and even the others busy with programming couldn''t help but peek over.

    After I finished ying, Drake and Josh eagerly took control of the video game.

    Once they''d had their turn, Drake mused, "So this is a video game..."

    "We''ve been working on this program, but I didn''t expect its only function was to entertain," Josh said, sounding surprised.

    Drake nodded. "Yeah, I''ve been curious about what this program was all about while we were developing it. It''s not a crucial program, but I didn''t expect it to be for entertainment."

    "It''s also a program that can help people kill boredom. That has value in its own way," Josh added thoughtfully. "Boss Arthur is really ahead of us in understanding. Computers can make interesting programs like Space Invader, and it''s fascinating!"

    I listened to Drake and Josh''s conversation, amused that they were talking as if I wasn''t even there.

    Now that the first game, "Space Invader," was done, we just needed to develop a few more games to create an arcade machine for the entertainment spots in the city.

    I couldn''t help but wonder how the people of this world would react to such basic entertainment.

    Sigh

    Part of me wished I could speed up the development of theputer operating system. With it, my team and I could create my favorite video games like "Mario," "Sonic," and others.

    But I knew I couldn''t be impatient. One step at a time.

    I left the warehouse and headed to the penthouse for some much-needed sleep. It had been a long day - wrapping up filming, celebrating with the crew, checking onputer development, and ying "Space Invader" for half an hour.

    As I drifted off, my mind was already racing with ns for the future of gaming in this world.

    ***

    The next day, Klein approached me with news. "Boss, that superstar Caleb Diamond is about to have a concert in the Yellow Theatre."

    I chuckled darkly. "Did you make sure to buy up as many tickets as possible?"

    "Yes, boss," Klein nodded, "but there are a few we couldn''t get our hands on."

    I waved it off. "Doesn''t matter. With barely anyone there, they''ll see their idol embarrass himself in front of an empty house!"

    "Did you give tickets to the journalists for Caleb''s concert?" I asked.

    Klein''s smile widened. "Yes, and I made sure they believe Caleb himself invited them to see how famous he is with a packed crowd."

    I nodded, impressed. Klein was really growing beyond just being a casting director. "Good. Now we just wait for the headlines. That scumbag will regret messing with my talents. I won''t rest until his career is in ruins, even if it takes years."

    "You''re a cruel demon king, boss!" Klein eximed, his tone full of admiration.

    This guy was getting toofortable with me, but I didn''t mind much.

    "Call Leo," I added. "I want to know how James'' debut ising along."

    "Of course, boss." Klein bowed deeply.

    "I''m not a demon king, don''t bow so low!" I protested.

    But Klein only bowed deeper. "Understood, boss."

    I sighed. It was clear Klein saw me as more than just a boss, maybe even a friend. But I couldn''t bring myself to mind too much.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    At the Yellow Theatre, venue for Caleb Diamond''s concert, the arriving journalists were met with an unsettling sight.

    "Why''s it so dead here? It''s weird," one journalist muttered to his colleagues from other media outlets.

    His friend nced outside, noting the few passersby who didn''t even spare the theatre a second look. "Right? It''s like a ghost town."

    Another chimed in, "What are you on about? It''s hours before the show. Of course it''s empty. Fans haven''t arrived yet."

    "Yeah, but this is Caleb we''re talking about. It''s never been this dead before," someone else pointed out.

    An elf journalist tried to reassure the group. "Rx, guys. People will flood in soon enough. Remember, tickets sold out in days. That says something about Caleb''s fame."

    "I guess," a fiend demon journalist nodded. "He is an international superstar, after all."

    But as hours ticked by and the journalists entered the theatre, an awkward realization set in. Contrary to their expectations, no big crowd materialized. Only a handful of people dotted the vast space.

    The three thousand-seat theatre gaped emptily, most seats unupied.

    "What... what''s going on here?" a journalist muttered, confusion etched on his face.

    The group exchanged bewildered nces, the silence of the nearly empty theatre speaking volumes. This was not the packed house they''d anticipated for a star of Caleb Diamond''s caliber.

 Chapter 113: Ruining the enemyâ€™s career

    <h4>Chapter 113: Ruining the enemy''s career</h4>

    (Caleb Diamond POV)

    A few injuries weren''t gonna stop me from putting on a show! Thanks to my dad''s connections and my deep pockets, I healed up in just two days a few weeks back. Now, I''m ready to rock like nothing ever happened.

    And man, those tickets flew off the shelves in days! That''s star power for you!

    Decked out in my favorite suit, makeup on point, I headed backstage, ready to bring the house down.

    I was all set to hear the crowd chanting, "Caleb! Caleb!" like always, but...

    It was dead quiet.

    "Hey, what gives? Why''s it so quiet out there?" I asked one of the production guys.

    The imp demon looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "Um..."

    I shooed him away with a sigh, and he scampered off like his tail was on fire.

    "No worries," I told myself. "I''m sure they''re just holding their breath, waiting for me to blow their minds!"

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The band kicked off, but Caleb was nowhere to be seen. The handful of fans and journalists in the seats squirmed ufortably.

    June, a demoness and devoted Caleb fan, exchanged confused nces with her friends Bucky, Hill, and Rain.

    "What the hell''s going on?" Rain whispered. "Why''s it so empty?"

    Bucky nodded, doing a quick headcount. "Including us, there''s maybe only a dozen people here..."

    Hill''s voice held a hint of doubt. "Didn''t the news say Caleb''s tickets sold out?"

    As they puzzled over the situation, Caleb finally made his grand entrance.

    "I''m here, everyone!" He threw his arms wide, ready to embrace the adoring crowd - only to have his excitement evaporate as he took in the sea of empty seats.

    The silence was deafening. Caleb''s confident grin faltered, reced by a look of utter disbelief. This wasn''t the packed house he''d been expecting. Far from it.

    Besides the band ying their music, the theatre was awfully quiet.

    Caleb''s weing arms froze mid-motion, his smile twitching uncontrobly as the awkwardness set in.

    "..."

    The silence between the few audience members and Caleb was palpable. Even the band felt it, their faces clearly asking, ''Should we really continue this concert?''

    "Cough." In the back rows, a feline demon named Johnny - an actor nted by Arthur - let out a cough that echoed through the nearly empty theater. In a normal Caleb concert, it would''ve been lost in the crowd''s noise. Here, it felt loud and insulting.

    Johnny shouted, his voice filling the space, "What? Are you not gonna start your concert!?"

    Caleb visibly flinched, humiliation written across his face.

    "Don''t waste my money on tickets! Go and perform!" Johnny yelled at the top of his lungs.

    Caleb twitched even more, hisposure crumbling.

    The audience, including the journalists, didn''t approve of Johnny embarrassing Caleb, but they had to admit he had a point. The show had to go on.

    Caleb cleared his throat, his voice a mix of anger, humiliation, and awkwardness. "I- I apologize," he stammered, trembling slightly, "I should start the concert now!"

    "That''s what I''m talking about!" Johnny pped loudly. "Now start it!"

    Veins popped on Caleb''s forehead, but he managed to grit out, "Okay."

    The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife as Caleb prepared to start his performance in front of the sparsest crowd he''d ever faced.

    Caleb started his performance, snapping his fingers and tapping his foot on the stage floor. "She... She is my personal subus sweetheart ~" he sang into the microphone.

    Gripping the mic stand, he continued, snapping his fingers again, "She..." He paused for effect, "She can only be my personal¡ª subus sweetheart maid ~"

    Despite the anger and humiliation burning inside him, Caleb pushed on with his performance.

    Ten minutes in, the journalists were already drafting articles about Caleb performing to an empty theater, highlighting theck of attendance.

    Suddenly, an unexpected turn of events caught everyone''s attention. The feline demon, Johnny, dramatically copsed in the middle of Caleb''s performance.

    Caleb stopped singing abruptly as staff rushed to Johnny''s aid.

    "I... I am gravely injured!" Johnny dered, his voice weak but carrying across the empty theater.

    A confused journalist stammered, "Ho-how are you injured? You''ve just been sitting there!"

    Johnny gasped theatrically, "I... My ear drums, my body... have been gravely injured by Caleb''s singing! I couldn''t take it anymore! Take me to the hospital!"

    The journalists'' eyes lit up at Johnny''s outrageous im. They furiously scribbled notes, sensing a juicy story in the making.

    Strangely enough, Johnny did appear to be seriously hurt. His body was covered in bruises, particrly around his ears.

    While the journalists couldn''t fathom how Johnny had sustained injuries from merely listening to Caleb''s performance, they knew this bizarre turn of events was headline gold.

    The already surreal concert had just taken an even more unexpected twist, leaving everyone, especially Caleb, stunned and bewildered.

    The concert came to an abrupt halt due to Johnny''s injury. Pressure Records, Caleb''sbel, quickly promised to refund all ticket purchases.

    Backstage, Caleb''s frustration boiled over. He hurled the mic at the mirror, shattering it. "Damn it!"

    Staring at the broken ss, realization dawned on him. "Something''s not right..." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Someone must be behind this shit!"

    ***

    The next day, shocking headlines sshed across the front pages of daily newspapers, captivating readers at newsstands everywhere.

    "Horn Superstar Caleb Diamond''s Concert: Empty Seats and Injured Fan!"

    Simr headlines screamed from other major dailies.

    Curious onlookers gathered, murmuring as they read.

    An elf turned to his friend, "First Caleb gets assaulted, then he''s used of beating up rising stars, and now this? His name''s getting more controversial by the day."

    His friend nodded, "Getting injured at a concert? And Caleb performing to an empty house? How''s that even possible?"

    As confusion spread, a demon who''d attended the concert spoke up, "I was there. The ce was really empty!"

    "Did someone actually get hurt from Caleb''s performance?" someone asked incredulously.

    The demon nodded, "Yeah, though I can''t exin how Caleb''s singing injured him, but he definitely got hurt."

    "How''s that possible?"

    The demon sighed, "I don''t know... Maybe Caleb used some magic in his singing that affected that feline demon?"

    A curious dwarf chimed in, "Why would Caleb do that?"

    The demon borated, "Actually, that injured guy had humiliated Caleb when he froze up at the start. He shouted at Caleb to perform, but then got hurt during the show. Maybe Caleb was angry andshed out magically."

    "Caleb can do magic in his performances?" The crowd''s unease grew. "That''s terrifying."

    Word spread like wildfire. The few concert attendees shared their experiences with friends and family, and within hours, thousands were talking about Caleb''s supposed ability to use magic in his performances to attack those he disliked.

    The rumors gained traction rapidly, further legitimized by newspapers quoting these spections.

    What the public didn''t know was that Johnny, the supposedly "injured" feline demon, was actually an actor hired by Arthur and his team. Johnny had used an expensive scroll spell to inflict injuries on himself, all part of a calcted n to ruin Caleb''s career.

    While Caleb''s team scrambled to investigate the empty concert and Johnny''s incident, the damage was already done. Public opinion had shifted, with many now viewing Caleb as a cruel and dangerous individual.

    Meanwhile, Arthur received refunds from Pressure Records for the tickets he''d bulk-purchased. Though he didn''t recoup all his expenses, Arthur considered the thousands of dors well spent. To him, it was a small price to pay for potentially derailing Caleb''s career.

    As the rumors continued to swirl and Caleb''s reputation took hit after hit, Arthur sat back, satisfied with the unfolding chaos he had orchestrated. The n had worked even better than he''d hoped, turning a superstar into a subject of fear and controversy overnight.

 Chapter 114: Lake of Fire - 69.9 FM

    <h4>Chapter 114: Lake of Fire - 69.9 FM</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Leo stood before me, updating me on James ze''s debut.

    "James'' single is now on sale," Leo reported. "Thanks to our partnership with Righteous Records, distribution is going smoothly, although we haven''t seen any sales yet." He paused, then added with a hint of excitement, "But I''m confident James'' single will catch people''s attention soon. In just a few hours, he''ll be performing at Horn Coast FM, one of the major radio studios."

    I nodded, considering this information. "James has been training for months now. He should be able to handle a live performance without any issues."

    But a thought nagged at me, and I voiced my concern, "Still, keep a close eye on him. That blondie can be too direct sometimes. He might struggle with the radio host interview."

    Leo''s reassuring smile didn''t waver. "Don''t worry, I''ve been running mock interviews with James. I''m confident he''ll do just fine."

    I nodded again, choosing to trust Leo''s judgment.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    A few hourster, James found himself waiting in line at the Horn Coast FM studio.

    The corridor was filled with up-anding artists, all there to perform and promote their songs on the radio. James couldn''t help but notice the stares he was getting from his fellow musicians. His style stood out starkly against theirs.

    While others were dressed to the nines, James had gone for a casual look. He wore a ck t-shirt emzoned with the word "Nirvana" and featuring a yellow circle that resembled a crude face.

    The smiley face wasn''t a widely recognized symbol yet, but the other artists seemed to get the gist of it. Paired with simple jeans, James looked like he''d walked in off the street.

    "What''s your name, fe?" A voice broke through James'' thoughts. He turned to see a fiend demon eyeing him curiously. The demon was the picture of elegance, from his expensive-looking suit to his shy watch and perfectly coiffed hair.

    "Me?" James asked, momentarily caught off guard. "I''m James."

    "James?" The demon repeated, a hint of disdain creeping into his voice despite his polite words. "Nice to meet you. I''m Tony."

    James just nodded in response. He could clearly see that Tony looked down on him. And it wasn''t just Tony ¨C all around him, the other artists in their elegant attire were regarding him with simr disdain.

    James could hear the snickers around him, feeling the judgemental stares of his fellow musicians. Their disdain was palpable, but James didn''t let it bother him.

    As the line moved forward, James realized his turn was approaching. Sure enough, within minutes, he was called into the studio. The radio host, a behemoth demon named Dorky, greeted him with a smile.

    "Wee to the studio, James ze!" Dorky''s voice boomed enthusiastically.

    A subus co-host named Amy chimed in, "You''re here with us now on Horn Coast 69.9 FM!"

    James felt a wave of nervousness wash over him, but he maintained his rebellious demeanor.

    The hosts couldn''t help but notice how different James lookedpared to the other up-anding artists they''d seen.

    Amy''s curiosity got the better of her. "You look pretty interesting, James ze," she said with a smile. "I wonder what kind of song you''ll perform for us today?"

    Before James could respond, Dorky interjected, "Amy, did you know James is actually from Hellfire Records? It''s a newbel, but get this - it''s owned by the famous exiled prince, Arthur Morningstar!"

    "Woah, really?" Amy''s interest was clearly piqued.

    James nodded, speaking casually, "Yeah, I''m the first music artist of Hellfire Records."

    The interview continued, with the hosts peppering James with questions. Internally, James felt annoyed, but he kept his cool, ying along to entertain them.

    Finally, Amy wrapped up the interview, "Alright, listeners, we''re about to hear James ze perform his single titled..."

    Amy and Dorky announced in unison, "Lake of Fire!"

    As James began to strum his electric guitar, the hosts fell silent, their expressions a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

    Outside the recording booth, the other musicians exchanged skeptical nces.

    "Hmph. I doubt that guy will sing any good," one sneered.

    Another added dismissively, "He looks like the kind of demon that won''t amount to much."

    ***

    In a dpidated bar, a handful of patrons were drinking and ying cards while tuned into Horn Coast 69.9 FM. Their ears perked up at the mention of the exiled prince owning a recordbel called "Hellfire Records".

    The old monkey demon, shuffling cards, spoke up, "Been hearing about that exiled princetely, especially in newspapers. Now even on music radio, his name pops up."

    An old fiend demon chuckled, exhaling smoke as he said, "I guess that Arthur just loves the attention."

    An old hag subus, also ying cards, joked, "He''scking attention from his family, so he''s seeking it everywhere else."

    The demons shared augh. "Hehe, you got that right," a scale demon chuckled.

    Their banter continued until James ze was about to perform. As he strummed the guitar, the old hag hushed the others, "Shh... Let''s hear this James y a song..."

    They fell silent, but from the first notes, they knew this song was different. The electric guitar melody started messy and unpolished, confusing them.

    Before they could fully react, James began to sing, his voice raspy, "Where do bad folks go when they die? They don''t go to heaven where the angels fly, they go down to theke of fire and fry"

    James continued, "Won''t see ''em again till the fourth of July"

    ?? ??

    As the melody flowed, the electric guitar y was almost broken, but strangely catchy. James'' voice, despite being raspy and unsmooth, captured their attention.

    They even paused their gambling to focus on what they were hearing.

    "I knew ady who came from Duluth

    She got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth," James sang. "She went to her grave just a little too soon, Flew away howling on the yellow moon"

    ??????

    Some of them couldn''t help but bob their heads. The old hag spoke up, "I knew Duluth. It''s a port city in the Gopher state in USE."

    "Yeah, yeah. We don''t care."

    "We''re trying to listen to a song, old hag."

    The old hag fell silent.

    They kept listening until the song ended. Only then did they realize, "What was that?"

    "Is that even a song? It sounds so raw and dirty. But I kind of like it."

    "Me too."

    It wasn''t just them. Other listeners across the airwaves found themselves intrigued by James'' unique music style.

    ***

    As thest notes of James'' song faded, he noticed Dorky and Amy looking stunned.

    Then, as if snapping out of a trance, the two hosts burst into excited apuse.

    "Incredible! That was... Impressive!" Dorky eximed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

    Amy chimed in, momentarily forgetting her professional demeanor, "Yes! I''m at a loss for words! It''s such a weird way to convey music, kind of unpolished, but at the same time, so refreshing! Definitely something new for the ears!"

    "Absolutely!" Dorky nodded vigorously. "My ears were getting tired from all that Jazz style music from the other performers¡ª"

    Amy nudged Dorky, reminding him they were still on air.

    Realizing his slip, Dorky quickly backpedaled, "No hate to the Jazz musicians out there - I very much enjoy it, but James here really performed a style of music that was incredibly refreshing! I''m sure our listeners were thrilled as well!"

    Outside the booth, the up-anding musicians were gritting their teeth. Their earlier disdain for James had transformed into bitter envy. To think that James had outperformed them so effortlessly...

    James exchanged a few words with the hosts before taking his leave. Dorky and Amy seemed reluctant to let him go, clearly wanting him to stay and perform more, but that wasn''t how these sessions worked.

    As James left, they weed another jazz musician who began to perform with his saxophone. Despite the musician''s undeniable skill, the hosts couldn''t help but feel like they''d heard hundreds of simr performances before. The repetitiveness was stark after James'' unique style.

    The contrast between James'' raw, energetic performance and the polished but familiar jazz only emphasized the impact of James'' debut.

 Chapter 115: Sensation

    <h4>Chapter 115: Sensation</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Just hours after James yed "Lake of Fire" on Horn Coast 69.9 FM, music stores saw an influx of curious customers.

    An old demon casually strolled into a store and approached the cashier. "Hey, do you sell James ze''s single here?"

    The imp demon cashier looked puzzled. It was the first he''d heard of it. "Um... What recordbel is he under?"

    The old demon paused, trying to recall. "He''s under Hellfire Records, I think."

    Recognition dawned on the cashier''s face. "Ah!" He pointed to a less-frequented section. "You can look for his song over there."

    The old demon nodded, found the single "Lake of Fire," and made his purchase.

    Minutester, another demon entered with the same query. "Do you have James ze''s song here?"

    The cashier nodded and directed them to the right section.

    As hours passed, the cashier noticed a pattern. More and more people were asking about this James ze.

    "Who is this James ze?" the cashier wondered to himself.

    The next day brought another wave of customers seeking James'' music.

    Two dayster, the cashier''s curiosity got the better of him. "Who is this James ze? I''ve been hearing so much about him recently."

    A group of demon teenagers chuckled. "Hehe, you don''t know?"

    "He''s the guy we heard on the radio!"

    "Yeah! His song is so good!"

    Intrigued, the cashier pressed further. "Where did you guys hear about him?"

    "We heard him on the radio," a monkey demon teenager exined. "I heard him on 69.9 FM."

    "Really?" another chimed in. "I heard him on 66.6 FM."

    "I heard him on 42.0 FM."

    Watching the teenagers excitedly discuss James ze, the cashier made a mental note to tune into a radio soon. He''d been stuck listening to music on his phonograph, but it seemed there were interesting developments happening on the airwaves.

    In music stores across the city, James ze''s single was flying off the shelves. Word of mouth spread like wildfire, and within days, thousands had heard of "Lake of Fire."

    James'' unique sound stood out in a sea of simr-sounding songs. In just a few days since his debut, he''d already amassed thousands of fans, thanks to his radio appearances and hundreds of enthusiastic listeners spreading the word.

    The impact of James'' music was felt even in unexpected ces. In a upscale restaurant, patrons looked up in confusion as the owner switched out the usual vinyl on the phonograph.

    As the new record began to y, the elegant, calming background music was reced by something entirely different. While not as polished or soothing as the usual fare, it was undeniably refreshing.

    A gentleman at one of the tables caught the waiter''s attention. "What song is this?"

    "It''s a new song called ''Lake of Fire'' by James ze," the waiter replied.

    "James ze?" the gentleman mused. "First time I''ve heard of him. I''ll have to look into his music."

    His fancy girlfriend, however, wrinkled her nose. "You like that? It sounds so weird and... unpolished. I don''t care for it at all."

    The gentleman tried to exin, "What''s wrong with it, sweetheart? It''s refreshing."

    "Oh, so you prefer this unpolished nonsense to our love song?" His girlfriend pouted.

    Backpedaling quickly, the gentleman chuckled nervously, "It''s not that, sweetheart. I love our song, it''s heartwarming. This is just... new and different."

    Seeing his girlfriend''s continued displeasure, the gentleman hastily imed he didn''t like the song after all.

    This scene yed out in various forms across the city. Many who heard James'' music fell in love with it instantly, drawn to its raw energy and uniqueness. Others, however, recoiled from what they perceived as ack of polish and effort.

    But love it or hate it, people couldn''t stop talking about it. The controversy only fueled sales, cementing James ze as a rising star in the music world.

    Newspapers and magazines quickly caught on to the buzz surrounding James ze''s first song, with some media outlets featuring it on their front pages,rgely due to James being signed to Hellfire Records - apany owned by the infamous ex-prince.

    Headlines zed across newsstands:

    "Ex-Prince''s Prot¨¦g¨¦ Takes Horn Kingdom by Storm: James ze''s Debut Single Skyrockets to Fame!"

    "Raw Genius or Bold Gamble? Arthur Morningstar''s Artist James ze Divides the Music Scene with an Unpolished Smash Hit!"

    "Experts Debate: Is Arthur Morningstar Ushering in a New Genre with James ze''s Groundbreaking Sound?"

    "From Film to Music: Can Arthur Morningstar Transform the Industry as He Did with Cinema?"

    These headlines only fanned the mes of James ze''s growing poprity.

    "Who is this James ze?"

    "Maybe I should give his song a listen."

    "An unpolished and raw song? Now that''s something I''ve got to hear."

    What started as thousands of curious listeners quickly grew to tens of thousands.

    Now tens of thousands were curious about James ze.

    Many more heard his song.

    Gradually, James was establishing himself, and thousands of people - whether demons, elves, or dwarves - became his fans.

    About a week after James'' debut, most people in the Horn Kingdom had somehow heard of him.

    Although the media outlets helped, and their controversy fanned the mes, it was the unpolished and raw nature of the song that attracted many people and further spread James'' name.

    A few dayster, James attended a music festival. To James and Leo''s surprise, arge crowd gathered in James'' area.

    "Oh, James! So that''s how you look in person!"

    "Can I have an autograph on your single, please?"

    More and more people were shouting at James.

    James felt incredulous. He waved at his fans and said into his mic, "Thanks for the support!"

    Someone shouted, "James, will you release more songs?"

    James smiled, "In fact, I''ll perform my unreleased songs here."

    The crowd cheered in excitement, "Hell yeah!"

    "That''s what I''m talking about!"

    James, with his guitar in hand, began performing songs like "Smells Like Teen Spirit", "Something in the Way", "Creep", and "The Man Who Sold the World".

    Initially, only dozens of people surrounded James and his band. Soon, the crowd swelled to hundreds.

    The audience was captivated by the songs - unpolished, raw, and energetic. They weren''t used to such music, having grown up listening to jazz. Yet, they couldn''t stop listening to James'' singing.

    After James ended his performance, fans mored for autographs, their excitement palpable.

    Leo seized the moment, whispering to James, "Quickly, promote the songs you just sang."

    James nodded and spoke into the mic, "Guys, the songs I''ve just performed are avable for sale. You can buy them at our booth here."

    The crowd''s attention shifted to the Hellfire Records merchandise stall nearby. Within minutes, fans swarmed the booth, quickly depleting the stock of James'' singles.

    Hourster, at Hellfire HQ, Arthur observed James'' growing fan base. He instructed Leo to set up a concert for James, striking while the iron was hot.

    James'' fame was on the rise - he was new to the industry, a fresh face with refreshing songs. Arthur knew they had to capitalize on this momentum. If they didn''t organize a concert soon, it would be harder to promote Jamester, especially once people started copying his style.

    ns were made for a concert in two weeks. They partnered with media outlets and radio stations to promote ticket sales.

    Simultaneously, Arthur negotiated agreements with recordbels in other kingdoms, including Morningstar, Choson, Japon, and countries in South East Anatolia.

    The new sound also caught the attention of several recordbels from Empirica, some of which had branches in the Horn Kingdom. These establishedpanies, known for their keen ear for emerging talents, were intrigued by James'' unique style.

    As word spread and deals were struck, it became clear that James ze''s name would soon reach far beyond the borders of the Horn Kingdom.

    From the bustling cities of Empirica to the distant shores of other realms, more and more people around the world would soon be introduced to the raw, energetic sound of James ze.

 Chapter 116: Devourer Ring and itâ€™s very effective

    <h4>Chapter 116: Devourer Ring and it''s very effective</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Watching James ze gradually rise to sess, I felt a surge of happiness - not just for him, but for myself as well. I''d finallypleted the mission of making James a rising star, and the system rewarded me with something extraordinary:

    <strong>[Devourer Ring (One of the Ancient Rings): This ancient artifact allows the host to store vast amounts of magic mana within it, serving as a reservoir for personal power. The ring also has the ability to devour iing powerful magic or energy attacks, absorbing and neutralizing them. Stored magic can be channeled back to enhance your spells, offering amplified spellcasting by adjusting the ring''s magic output mode.]</strong>

    <strong>[Level 1: The ring can hold up to 50,000 magic mana and can devour intermediate-level magic spells and energy attacks.]</strong>

    <strong>[You may level up this ancient artifact using Entertainment Points!]</strong>

    Excited, I quickly pulled the ring from the system storage. It was a golden band, exuding power and mystery. I slipped it onto my finger, expecting some dramatic change, but felt nothing out of the ordinary.

    I sighed, "Maybe I should level up this ring," I muttered, admiring how cool it looked on my hand.

    As I examined it closer, I noticed ancient runes embedded in the metal. They quickly faded, bing transparent, and suddenly information about the ring flooded my mind.

    I learned about the ring''s four modes, the first being "Bloodthirst Mode". Despite its ominous name, it was actually the weakest.

    This mode allowed the ring to absorb magical or energy attacks - its basic function. It could consume spells from a limited range and feed on their mana. At its current level, the ring could absorb up to 10,000 mana from a single attack, storing it forter use.

    The first mode could enhance my magical spells, turning even a basic fire spell into a formidable attack.

    "Wrath Mode," the second setting, boosted magical output. When activated, it increased spell power by 20 percent, consuming 5,000 mana with each cast. This mode packed more punch than the first.

    The third, "Abyssal Mode," could autonomously gather mana from the surroundings, potentially even duringbat. Despite its usefulness, I hesitated to use it. The risk of attracting attention from powerful figures who might detect the ring''s energy seemed too great. This mode also offered an even more potent magical boost, though at considerable risk.

    "Nightmare Mode," the fourth setting, was both the most powerful and the most dangerous. It would create a defensive barrier around me, absorbing any iing attacks. Then, it could unleash devastating magical assaults using all the stored magical power. Ast-resort option, no doubt.

    I examined the ring, noting how I could switch between modes. For now, I''d have to adjust them manually. But with further upgrades, I''d be able to switch modes with a mere thought.

    At level 1, the ring wasn''t reaching its full potential. I decided to invest some entertainment points to upgrade it. The cost? A steep 1 million points to reach level 2.

    I gritted my teeth. It felt like a pay-to-win scheme, but the potential benefits outweighed the cost. I made the investment.

    At level 2, the ring''s capacity doubled, now able to store 100,000 units of magical mana.

    It was incredible. For perspective, my own magical mana capacity was about 10,000 - already impressive, thanks to my recent level up and the boost from my Primal Morningstar bloodline ability. As I trained this ability to transform, my body and mana reserves had been steadily increasing.

    I pushed further, upgrading the ring to level 3 for five million points. Now it could store a staggering 1 million magical mana.

    The potential upgrades didn''t stop there. Level 4 would allow 10 million storage, level 5 a whopping 50 million for 100 million points. But level 6, the max level, was something else entirely.

    At level 6, the ring could store unlimited mana, continuously feeding on energy. All four modes would merge, allowing the ring to consciously adjust to any situation. Impressive, yes, but the price? Astronomical. 1 billion entertainment points!

    You''ve got to be kidding. It might take years to umte that many points.

    I wondered what I''d even do with the current 1 million capacity. Filling it seemed a distant goal.

    Yet, I couldn''t help but ponder the catastrophic potential of such a ring. Unlimited magical mana storage? The possibilities seemed endless, and frankly, a bit terrifying.

    Curiosity got the better of me. I decided to test the ring, channeling my full 10,000 mana into it.

    To my shock, the ring devoured my entire magical reserve in an instant. I couldn''t even react fast enough to stop it.

    Dizziness washed over me. "Damn it. This ring is a glutton," I muttered, feeling utterly drained.

    I hadn''t expected it to consume my mana so quickly. As I sat there, exhausted, I realized I might have underestimated the power - and the danger - of this ancient artifact.

    With a thought, I switched the ring to "Abyssal Mode". Instantly, an unsettling quiet fell over my office. It was as if the ring had absorbed even sound itself, creating an eerie, unnatural peace.

    My devil cat, usually soposed, suddenly bristled. Its hair stood on end for a moment before it slumped to the floor, unnaturally still.

    I gasped, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. "This... This ring is absorbing all the magical mana in the office, even from my cat!"

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Unbeknownst to Arthur, the ring''s influence extended far beyond his office.

    The entire Hellfire HQ seemed caught in the eye of an invisible storm. Employees went about their business, chatting and working as usual. The atmosphere felt oddly peaceful, yet no one seemed to notice anything amiss.

    Then, without warning, fatigue swept through the building like a wave.

    "Wha-what''s happening? I suddenly feel tired," one employee mumbled.

    "Me too," another nodded, struggling to keep their eyes open.

    Lilith''s voice drifted from her desk, "I feel sleepy. I think I might take a nap." Her head dropped onto her desk, and she was out cold.

    Klein felt his eyelids growing heavy. He looked around, seeing his colleagues slumping over their desks one by one. Fighting against the overwhelming urge to sleep, he pped his cheeks. "He-hey, guys. We are in... in the middle of work!" he shouted, but his voice came out weak and ineffectual.

    More and more employees sumbed to the mysterious fatigue.

    Klein swayed on his feet, fighting a losing battle against the encroaching darkness. Finally, he too copsed to the ground, his snores joining the chorus of sleeping coworkers.

    The ring''s influence stretched far beyond Hellfire HQ, its absorption intensifying with each passing moment.

    On the streets outside, passersby suddenly felt their strength ebbing away.

    "Yawn. Weird, I just slept soundly earlier," a dwarf mumbled, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

    A high school magic student, more attuned to the arcane, muttered, "Why do I feel like my mana''s being absorbed?" Before he could ponder further, his eyes grew heavy, and he slumped to the ground.

    The neighboring buildings weren''t spared either.

    "Hmm... It feels so good to sleep..." a demon boss murmured, slumping over his desk, drool pooling beneath his cheek.

    The phenomenon spread rapidly across the entire district. Hundreds sumbed to sudden exhaustion, either falling asleep where they stood or struggling against an overwhelming fatigue.

    Meanwhile, in the Hellfire HQ office, Arthur noticed the ring had mysteriously umted 1 million magical mana and ceased its absorption. It even returned his initial ten thousand mana, leaving him feeling better than before.

    Oblivious to the chaos outside, Arthur left his office in high spirits, his sleeping cat cradled in his arms. He marveled at how his office alone could provide so much mana for the ring.

    As he descended to the first floor, an eerie quiet settled over him. "Why does it feel so strangely silent?" he wondered, still unaware of the widespread effects of his magical experiment.

    Little did Arthur know, his simple test of the ring had inadvertently plunged the entire district into an unnatural slumber, leaving him as perhaps the only conscious person for blocks around.

 Chapter 117: Donâ€™t underestimate the ring, Arthur.

    <h4>Chapter 117: Don''t underestimate the ring, Arthur.</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The eerie silence unnerved me as I headed to the workstation. What I saw there left me stunned.

    My employees were sprawled across their desks, sleeping so deeply they might as well have been inas.

    "...what the heck is happening?" I muttered, my mind racing.

    Then it hit me. I nced at the cat in my arms, still out cold, then at the ring on my finger.

    "...fuck..." I pped my forehead, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world.

    I''d been wondering how the ring umted a million units of magical mana in my office alone. Turns out, it had drained the entire building dry!

    And here I was, thinking using "Abyssal Mode" in my office would be discreet. I couldn''t have been more wrong.

    Shaking my head, I surveyed the sleeping employees. How the hell was I going to fix this mess?

    Deciding to let them sleep it off, I headed to the parking lot, nning to retreat to my penthouse to study the ring further. But as soon as I stepped outside, I froze.

    People were passed out on the sidewalks. Vehicles had stopped in their tracks, some even crashed. Drivers slept soundly, even those with minor injuries.

    "This..." I looked around, seeing the eerie quiet stretch as far as the eye could see. "This is bad..."

    I bolted back to my office, mming the door behind me and pacing frantically.

    "It seems that I''ve underestimated this ring gravely..." I muttered, staring at the seemingly innocent band of gold.

    I couldn''t believe it. I''d only used the "Abyssal Mode" for about thirty seconds - not even a full minute! Yet the effects were far more massive than I could have ever imagined.

    Examining the ring more closely, I discovered that "Abyssal Mode" had four settings: low, mid, high, and ultra. To my horror, I realized the mode was set to ultra by default!

    I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to scream. "Why the hell did the system set the mode to ultra? And make it the default setting?!" I felt like cursing the system to high heaven.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The strange event in the New District didn''t go unnoticed by those just beyond its borders.

    In a modest house adorned with the Srus Circle symbol, an old mage felt an eerie aura brush against him, chilling him to the bone.

    "Wha-what was that?" He trembled, peering out the window towards the New District. "Something ominous... Something terrifying... What could it be?"

    Kneeling, the old mage - a bishop of the Srus faith - gazed at the bright sun. He made the sign of the circle and prayed, his voice carrying the weight of his lesiastical authority:

    "Lord Srus, your light guides us through darkness. As your humble servant and bishop, I beseech you to grant me strength to face whatever evil approaches. If it is your will that I should fall in defense of your teachings and your flock, I go dly into your radiant embrace. May my faith be a beacon to others in these troubled times."

    Other religious figures in the Horn Kingdom sensed the disturbance too, each interpreting it through their own faith''s lens.

    A dwarf knelt before an altar, his voice steady despite his fear, "Great Forgemaster, temper my spirit as you would the finest steel. Let the weapons and armor crafted by your wisdom be our shield against theing storm."

    Meanwhile, a beautiful elf touched her crescent moon pendant, her whisper barely audible, "Mistress of the Night Sky, illuminate the path before us. May your celestial wisdom guide us through this encroaching darkness."

    Little did they know, they were vastly overestimating the situation. While they braced for some abominable creature to suddenly appear, the reality was far less apocalyptic.

    The Srus bishop, convinced of impending doom, penned a dramatic farewell in amunication scroll to his fellow bishops: "My dear friends, as I write this, a powerful and mysterious force has emerged in the demon realm. Should I not survive theing storm, know that I faced it with unwavering faith..."

    A few hourster, the dramatic expectations of the religious figures dissolved into bewilderment as they arrived at the New District.

    Instead of apocalyptic scenes, they found people sleeping in the streets, looking foolish rather than frightened. Reporters and photographers swarmed the area, capturing the bizarre spectacle.

    As one demon finally stirred from his slumber, journalists pounced, peppering him with questions. The demon, still groggy, looked confused.

    "Did you know that you''ve been sleeping on this cold ground for a few hours now?" a reporter asked.

    The demon''s eyes widened. "A few hours? I only wanted a short nap!"

    "Did you notice anything unusual before falling asleep?" another pressed.

    The demon yawned, looking around bewildered. "Wait, why are you all surrounding me? Is me sleeping in public really newsworthy?"

    "No," the reporter rolled her eyes. "It''s because you''re not the only one who strangely fell asleep in the middle of the day."

    As realization dawned on the demon, seeing the stopped cars and sleeping figures scattered around, he began answering questions more eagerly.

    The next day, news of this weird yet shocking event spread like wildfire across the Horn Kingdom. It didn''t stop there. The story reached the Morningstar Kingdom, Thorn Kingdom, and even parts of Empirica and Evros.

    It turned out some of the reporters who witnessed the strange phenomenon in New District were international correspondents. Their presence ensured the news spread globally with ease.

    The headlines zed across newspapers and news crystals, each more sensational than thest:

    "MYSTERIOUS MASS SLUMBER: Entire Horn Kingdom District Falls Asleep Mid-Day!"

    "MANA DROUGHT: Experts Confirm Hundreds in New District Drained of Magical Energy"

    "OMEN OF DOOM? Mass Sleep Incident Sparks Apocalyptic Fears"

    These reports captivated audiences far and wide, turning a local incident into a global sensation.

    Even though life in the New District hadrgely returned to normal, the area buzzed with unusual activity. Reporters lingered on street corners, osting passersby for their ounts of the previous day''s events.

    "Excuse me, sir! Can you tell us what you experienced during yesterday''s mysterious slumber?"

    "Ma''am, did you notice anything unusual before falling asleep?"

    The streets also saw an increased police presence. Officers patrolled with heightened vignce, their postures tense and alert. It was no secret that their superiors had reprimanded them harshly for sumbing to the inexplicable sleep, and they were eager to prove their worth.

    Adding to the mix were figures from various religious orders, their robes and symbols standing out among the crowd. They moved through the district with purpose, some offering blessings, others seemingly searching for signs of the divine ¨C or the diabolical ¨C in the aftermath of the event.

    ***

    Meanwhile - the demon responsible for the news that became worldwide was weing guests with a warm smile.

    "Wee, wee," Arthur greeted the studio representatives visiting his studio for a private viewing of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon". Though aware of the chaos he''d caused, he maintained hisposure, knowing that panicking would only arouse suspicion.

    Eric from Bryan Brothers nodded to Arthur. Sheldon from Science Pictures, Ray from Lava Brothers, and Jerry from Righteous Film Studio were also present, along with other unfamiliar faces from various studios.

    Frank Law from Martial Studio, a major yer in martial arts films, spoke up. "We''re expecting great things from your film, Mr. Morningstar. It is a martial arts film, after all."

    Arthur simply smiled as he led them to the private theatre, anticipating his guests'' eagerness to see the martial arts film he''d created.

    As they settled into their seats, the representatives wondered if Arthur would deliver another masterpiece.

    While some were genuinely curious about the martial arts film and interested in distribution rights, others - like Bryan Brothers - were merely attending out of politeness, not particrly interested in martial arts films even if Arthur''s work was decent.

    Their attendance was more a gesture to maintain connections with Arthur. After all, he might produce a film in the future worthy of their attention, and they''d be willing to acquire licensing rights for it, regardless of the cost.

 Chapter 118: Emotional Fighting Film

    <h4>Chapter 118: Emotional Fighting Film</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The private theatre plunged into darkness as the movie began. From the opening sequences, the representatives'' interest was immediately piqued.

    Set in the ancient Morningstar Kingdom, the film transported viewers back in time - the clothing, houses, and surroundings meticulously crafted to reflect the era.

    "I know where this is, but..." Frank muttered, recognizing the filming location yet noticing subtle differences.

    Jerry, too, noticed the familiar yet altered settings.

    Arthur observed their confusion with a smile. He knew the differences were due to the new illusion technique applied to the camera lens, transforming everything subtly.

    As the film progressed, everyone except Arthur was captivated by the fighting scenes. The choreography looked convincingly like real martial arts, the movements fluid and powerful.

    Characters ran on walls, leapt onto rooftops, and engaged in breathtaking chases that showcased their seemingly superhuman abilities.

    Yu Shu Lien''s ongoing battle with Jen Yu, the sword thief, held the representatives spellbound. Despite knowing it was choreographed, the intensity felt real and gripping.

    Arthur chuckled at their reactions. In his previous life, such gravity-defying martial arts would have seemed unrealistic. But here, in this world, it fit perfectly.

    The two women continued their fiercebat, their fight spilling into the weapon room. Jen Yu wielded the powerful Green Destiny sword, while Shu Lien countered with an array of weapons.

    The representatives watched, entranced, as the battle unfolded on screen, Arthur''s masterful direction bringing the ancient martial arts world to vivid life before their eyes.

    As the film progressed, everyone became thoroughly absorbed. During Jen Yu''s shbacks with Lo, the audience chuckled.

    "Damien looks so weird with that ancient cloth and messy hair," Frank eximed, promptingughter from the others. Damien, after all, was a famous Morningstar actor.

    Their amusement quickly gave way to moreplex emotions as Jen Yu''s rtionship with Lo unfolded. Her backstory became clearer, deepening their understanding of her character.

    Later, after several intense duels, Li Mu Bai was poisoned.

    "Come on, Jen Yu..." Frank muttered. He and the others knew she had the antidote.

    But Jen Yu''s hesitation proved fatal. As Li Mu Baiy dying, confessing his love to Shu Lien, Frank, Jerry, and the others found themselves tearing up.

    "Damn that Jade Fox," Jerry shook his head.

    Even though Jade Fox met her end at Jen Yu''s hands, the death of Li Mu Bai - the character they''d grown attached to - hit hard.

    The film''s ending left them with mixed feelings as Jen Yu leapt off the cliff. While they resented her role in Li Mu Bai''s death, they understood Jade Fox was the true culprit.

    They recalled Lo''s tale of a man who jumped off a mountain, surviving due to his pure faith. Eric, Ray, and others found this imusible - surely she couldn''t survive such a leap.

    As the credits rolled, Frank sighed, his emotions conflicted. The others shared hisplicated feelings, moved by the film''s emotional depth.

    The representatives turned to Arthur Morningstar, the demon behind the film. A brief silence fell over the group as Arthur chuckled and invited them to his spacious office. As they filed out of the private theatre, they held their tongues about the film, not wanting to appear too impressed and potentially weaken their negotiating position.

    Julian from E-Motion Pictures in Empirica broke the ice. "I''ll be honest, Mr. Morningstar - at first, I was quite skeptical about your martial arts film. But color me impressed. Unlike other martial arts films that only focus on fighting, killing, and seeing who''s stronger, your film not only gave us impressive fighting scenes but was also quite emotional."

    The others nodded in agreement. Leonard, representing a studio based in Wales, chimed in, "I was kind of expecting a film with a protagonist who defeats other martial artists, then gets beaten by an antagonist - only to return after training and beat the antagonist. That kind of form."

    Everyone shared augh at that.

    Arthur joined in with a chuckle, "If I were my brother Bobby, the film would be exactly like that."

    "Hahaha," the room erupted inughter.

    Indeed, Bobby was known for his predictable martial arts films where he always yed the protagonist. He''d beat everyone until a stronger antagonist appeared, lose to them, then return to triumph. His filmscked any motivation for the constant fighting - in one interview, Bobby simply stated he fought everyone to disy his immense strength.

    "By the way, Mr. Morningstar," Jerry interjected, "I know the actor who yed Li Mu Bai. He''s my niece''s boyfriend. I didn''t expect him to be so talented in acting."

    Arthur nodded, his expression thoughtful. "He has great potential."

    Jerry assumed Arthur was being polite, unaware that Arthur genuinely believed in Jun-fan''s ability to draw crowds, much like Bruce Lee in his previous life.

    As they entered the office, Eric voiced a question that had been on everyone''s mind. "Did Jen Yu survive at the ending?"

    The others leaned in, curious. They recalled Lo''s unsettling calmness as he watched his lover plummet from the cliff.

    Arthur''s smile was ambiguous. "Well, that''s up to your interpretation," he said. "If you believe she died, then perhaps that''s her way of atoning for her sins. But if you think she survived and found true freedom, that''s equally valid. She wanted to escape her family''s expectations, society''s pressures. From beginning to end, she was rebellious, never willing to ept the fate handed to her."

    His response left the representatives feeling conflicted, pondering the ambiguous ending.

    Arthur continued to entertain the studio representatives in his office before they departed.

    The following day, Eric returned with Bryan Brothers'' offer, which Arthur found disappointing and declined. Righteous Film Studio''s below-average offer met the same fate.

    Despite his long-time partners'' apparentck of interest in the martial arts film, Arthur remained patient. His patience paid off as other studios like Martial Studio and E-Motion Pictures presented decent offers.

    Arthur attempted to negotiate better terms, but sensing the studios'' reluctance to go all-in on his martial arts film, he ultimately settled for their ''good enough'' offers.

    Arthur was well aware of the declining poprity of martial arts films in Anatolia, let alone in the West. The genre wasn''t particrly favored outside its traditional stronghold, making distributors hesitant about its performance in their home markets.

    While he was confident the film would perform exceptionally well in Anatolia, its sess beyond was uncertain. Arthur understood this reality - after all, he couldn''t simply change people''s tastes, especially given the cultural differences between demons and other kingdoms and countries.

    Yet, it was precisely this unpredictability that intrigued Arthur. He was curious to see how a genre typically popr only in Anatolia would fare in other regions.

    While "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" might not reach the astronomical box office numbers of "Lord of the Rings" or even match "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly", Arthur had a new ace up his sleeve: wider distribution.

    This time around, the film''s release would follow a different pattern. After its premiere in the Horn Kingdom, it wouldn''t be long before audiences in Morningstar, Choson, Japon, USE, and even parts of Evros would get to see it. This rapid, multi-region release strategy was something new for Arthur''s films.

    The key to this expanded distributiony in Arthur''s growing industry clout. His track record of three critically acimed andmercially sessful films had opened doors. Studio executives and distributors who might have been hesitant before were now eager to work with the demon filmmaker who seemed to have the Midas touch.

    These newfound connections meant Arthur could negotiate simultaneous or near-simultaneous releases in multiple territories. Instead of a slow rollout region by region, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" would hit screens across a wide swath of the world in a rtively short time frame.

    This strategy had the potential to boost the overall box office significantly. Even if the film performed moderately in some regions, the sheer number of theaters showing it could add up to impressive total earnings.

    In essence, Arthur was leveraging his past sesses to ensure histest film had the best possible chance at financial sess, regardless of how it might be received in any single market.

 Chapter 119: Iâ€™m cautious now

    <h4>Chapter 119: I''m cautious now</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    My team and I swiftly handled negotiations with international film distributors - days flew by in a blur. Meanwhile, the news about the sudden "Mana Drought" from a few days ago remained the hot topic.

    Of course, being the actual culprit behind that "Mana Drought", I felt a pang of guilt towards my employees and the people of the New District.

    I couldn''t help but overhear my crew discussing it loudly.

    "I really don''t know what happened. One moment, I''m working, then suddenly... I felt my mana sucked dry for some reason and then I fell into a slumber."

    "Me too... I can feel my magic was sucked dry... Remembering it is terrifying!"

    Another chimed in, "Did you guys read the news?"

    A demoness nodded, "Yeah... They''re saying the world is about to experience a ''Mana Crisis''. It''s been a long-term problem, but I never thought much of it. What happened a few days ago changed my perspective. Maybe that so-called ''Mana Crisis'' is more serious than we thought."

    I shook my head and approached them, feigning ignorance. "What are you guys talking about?"

    "Ah, boss!" they turned to me and nodded.

    Lilith exined, "We''re talking about what happened a few days ago, boss. When we strangely fell asleep without any exnation."

    I nodded, putting on a confused expression to avoid suspicion. "Yeah, it was a strange phenomenon. I remember being in my office when my cat and I suddenly sumbed to sleep."

    Klein added, "There''s news that wizard scientists are saying the world iscking mana to sustain itself - so it forcefully borrowed magical mana from the people of this district."

    Hearing that theory almost made me break character, but I was genuinely amused and curious about the theories people in this world were concocting. They simply had no idea that the ring on my finger was responsible for the incident a few days ago.

    As I listened to their spections, I couldn''t help but marvel at the imagination of this world''s inhabitants. If only they knew the truth behind the "Mana Drought", but that was a secret I''d have to keep to myself.

    "So the world is sentient enough to forcefully suck magic mana from people?" I voiced my thoughts, ying along with their theories.

    Klein and the others nodded. "That''s what those experts said."

    "If the world is really conscious enough, it''s probably thinking of reducing people on the world so that the mana will be bnced," I mused, curious to see their reactions.

    "Yeah, the experts say that the world will end in about 100 years if it continues to lose mana," another chimed in.

    "End of the world? Heh, that was news a hundred years ago, but we''re still alive," someone snorted skeptically.

    Indeed, there had been news a hundred years ago that the world would end if it continued to lose mana. I stroked my chin, listening intently to their conversation.

    "But this time, it''s different. I also thought that news iming the world will end due to ''Mana Crisis'' was bullshit. But now I understand, there''s some truth to it - after all, we just experienced how bad the world iscking mana a few days ago," the demon added. "The dragons in the Eden continent are growing extinct because of mana problems-"

    "Alright, you guys get back to work. You''ll have enough time to discuss thister," I interrupted, knowing it would likely turn into a debate soon.

    "O-okay, boss!" They saluted and scurried back to their workstations.

    I shook my head with a sigh. ncing at the newspapers on their desks, I had a feeling that the events from a few days ago would remain hot news for a while. After all, the media would milk this mysterious and controversial story, knowing people would continue to buy such news.

    This whole situation gave me a deeper understanding of the ring on my hand and reinforced the need to be extremely careful in using it. The consequences of its power were far-reaching, and I couldn''t afford another slip-up like the Mana Drought incident.

    I decided to stick to the basic functions of the ring. Its more powerful modes would only be used when absolutely necessary. After all, the "Abyssal Mode", just the second most powerful mode, had already caused catastrophic effects.

    I shuddered to think about the "Nightmare Mode", the ring''s most potent setting. If "Abyssal Mode" could affect an entire district, it''s possible that "Nightmare Mode" could impact the whole city.

    And that''s with the ring at just level 3.

    At level 4, could it affect half of the Horn Kingdom? Or maybe even the entire kingdom, given that Horn isparatively smallpared to Morningstar?

    I nced at the ring on my finger. It looked like an ordinary gold band, belying its immense power.

    Shifting my focus from the ring, I turned my attention to uing projects. I was eager to start on my second film to gain that {Creator''s Realms} ability.

    Besides the film project, I''d been working on a new venture for weeks. I''d beenying the groundwork to distribute the manga "Dragon Ball" in the Horn Kingdom, as well as Morningstar, Choson, and Japon.

    ''Manga'' already existed in Japon, but it was only gaining traction there. Japon manga were essentially copies of ''Comics'' from Empirica, which had been gaining poprity in Empirica and some parts of the world.

    I was confident readers wouldn''t be too confused by "Dragon Ball". This world already had the concept of ics'' and ''manga'', even if they weren''t wildly popr yet.

    While these mediums weren''t mainstream, I believed the story of "Dragon Ball" would stand out. Its unique blend of action, humor, and adventure could potentially revolutionize the manga industry in this world, just as it had in my previous life.

    I''m also betting on this world to make "Dragon Ball" popr. After all, I''m thinking of visiting the Dragon Ball world through {Creator''s Realms}.

    If "Dragon Ball" isn''t sessful, I won''t be able to visit its world. I can only visit the worlds of fictions that be hugely sessful in reality.

    I''m also considering creating "Naruto", so I could visit that world and learn basic jutsu, like the cloning technique.

    With the cloning technique, I''d be able to produce manga faster. My clones could help with the drawing process of the manga I''m nning to create.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    While news of the "Magical Mana Drought" gained traction worldwide, stirring worry about the future, media outlets didn''t forget about Arthur''s fourth film, a martial arts epic.

    As soon as "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" was advertised simultaneously across Horn, Morningstar, Choson, Japon, and other nations, it immediately captured media attention.

    Unlike Arthur''s previous three sessful films, this new one would be screened simultaneously in many nations. This wider distribution piqued people''s curiosity about the martial arts film.

    Headlines across various kingdoms read:

    "Arthur Morningstar''s New Martial Arts Epic: A Global Release!"

    "Morningstar''s ''Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon'' Set to Premiere Worldwide"

    "Can Arthur''s Martial Arts Film Conquer the Global Box Office?"

    The simultaneous release strategy was a hot topic among film critics and industry insiders. Some praised it as a bold move, while others questioned whether a martial arts film could resonate with such a diverse global audience.

    As the release date approached, anticipation built. Would Arthur Morningstar''s winning streak continue? Or would this foray into martial arts and global distribution prove to be his first misstep? The world waited eagerly to find out.

    People were genuinely curious about Arthur''s martial arts film, especially in Anatolia where such films still held a special ce in their hearts.

    News of Arthur''s new film, along with the usual mix of negative press, celebrity gossip, business news, and entertainment industry controversies, seemed to bring a sense of relief to many.

    If it was before, people might have grown tired of such news. But this time was different. They actually preferred hearing about celebrities and entertainment industry drama over the more ominous news about the "Mana Crisis", "The end of the world", or "Prophecies of Renowned Seers from Bharat Kingdom".

    These doomsday headlines were spreading fear across the globe. In contrast, entertainment news offered a wee distraction, a breath of fresh air in an increasingly anxious world.

    Meanwhile, James ze''s first concert was set to take ce in about a week, and his fans were buzzing with excitement to see him perform live.

    The concert venue itself was a departure from the norm. Instead of the usual theatre setting favored by other artists, James'' performance was scheduled to take ce in Horn Park - a public area where fans would watch the concert standing up.

    This unconventional approach aligned perfectly with James'' fresh, innovative sound. It was new and refreshing, much like his music. However, it also drew criticism from media outlets and some members of the public.

    Headlines reflected this mix of excitement and skepticism:

    "Standing Room Only: Is James ze''s Outdoor Concert a Hit or Miss?"

    "Music Critics Question Safety of James ze''s Public Park Venue"

    Despite the criticism, many fans saw the unique venue as just another reason to love James ze. His willingness to break from tradition only added to his appeal, making the uing concert an even more anticipated event.

 Chapter 120: F*CK this world!

    <h4>Chapter 120: F*CK this world!</h4>

    (James ze POV)

    My concert''s about to kick off in a few days. I''m fucking excited. It''ll be my first time having a real concert.

    I''ve been losing sleep thinking about it - practicing the songs with the band non-stop.

    The guys are just as pumped as I am about this gig.

    Vio, this imp demon who''s our drummer, is particrly stoked about the concert.

    During practice, Vio got a little too enthusiastic with the drums, making some slight mistakes.

    "Hey, the tempo isn''t right. Let''s try that again," Jason, our bassist, called out to Vio.

    "Sorry, sorry. I got a little excited," Vio said, scratching the back of his head apologetically.

    Lucio, our rhythm guitarist, chimed in, "We get how you feel, Vio. We''re all psyched to be in James'' concert, but we can''t keep messing up!"

    Vio kept apologizing with that shy smile of his.

    "It''s not just my concert, guys," I cut in, hearing Lucio say ''James'' concert''. I shed a devilish grin, "It''s our concert!"

    Vio and the others looked surprised, then smiled genuinely. "You''re right," they agreed, nodding.

    "I don''t think there''s anything wrong with Vio''s performance - I think we should be more like him," I suddenly said, confusing everyone.

    I rified, "It''s not that Vio''s out of tempo - I think we''re just not matching his tempo."

    They still looked confused, including Vio.

    So Iid it out, "I think we should match his energy. We should perform like him! Excited and full of energy! After all, as boss Arthur said, we''re introducing ''Grunge''. It''s supposed to be a style that''s just about being true to ourselves."

    I could see understanding dawning on their faces.

    "When we perform and face the crowd - we''ll just be ourselves. Lose ourselves. No need to be so careful - I think it''ll limit what we can potentially do," I said, grabbing my guitar again. "Let''s do it again. Just don''t worry about that bullshit tempo! We just let ourselves out!"

    Vio, Jason, and Lucio exchanged nces, then with a smile, began ying their hearts out.

    As the raw, unpolished sound filled the room, I felt a rush of excitement. This was it. This was the sound of grunge, the sound of rebellion, the sound of us. Boss Arthur was right - this was going to change everything.

    ***

    A few dayster - it was finally time for my concert.

    The public park looked nothing like its usual self. A massive stage dominated the area, with a huge space in front for the crowd. Big speakers nked the setup. It was surreal.

    Excitement crawled from my feet to my head. I could see curious onlookers already bustling just outside the ''concert venue''.

    Even people without tickets would be able to catch my performance. I didn''t mind, but I wondered where boss Arthur got this kind of concert setup.

    An hourter, I peeked out from backstage. The ticketed area was filling up fast. The ce erupted in noise as the big speakers kicked in. For some reason, this setup felt right.

    "James! James!"

    "ze! ze!"

    I stood up, looking at my band as the crowd started chanting my name.

    Vio, Jason, and Lucio grinned at me, pushing me towards the stage.

    What greeted us was a fucking sea of people.

    My blood ran hot at the sight of the crowd below, their hands waving at us.

    Gripping the mic stand, instead of spewing any bullshit, I shouted back, "Yeah!!!"

    The crowd roared in response.

    "Woo!"

    I grinned wider. "I can''t hear you!"

    "WOO!!!"

    Without waiting for the band''s cue, I strummed my guitar and started ying.

    The crowd went wild.

    Vio, Jason, and Lucio didn''t need any signal. They just matched my energy, falling into sync with my ying.

    I didn''t even tell the band which song we''d y, but I knew they''d pick up on it from the opening melody alone.

    As the music filled the air and the crowd''s energy surged, I felt alive in a way I never had before. This was it. This was what we''d been working towards.

    "Load up on guns, bring your friends

    It''s fun to lose and to pretend," I began, the band perfectly matching my energy.

    "She''s over-bored and self-assured

    Oh no, I know a dirty word."

    As we yed, Iunched into, "Hello, hello, hello, how low."

    To my surprise, the crowd sang the follow-up, matching my performance, "Hello, hello, hello, how low."

    A chill ran down my spine. I exchanged nces with my bandmates, all of us equally thrilled by what we were seeing and hearing.

    The crowd kept going as I sang, "Hello, hello, hello, how low."

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Just outside the "concert venue," onlookers watched James'' concert from a distance with curiosity. From the moment James stepped onto the stage, they were skeptical about how an outdoor concert would turn out, but what followed waspletely unexpected.

    James didn''t spew any clich¨¦d lines about "thanking the fans for showing up" like other artists might. He just eximed with a "yeah!" and even demanded the crowd cheer more.

    Then, without warning, heunched into his performance.

    It was refreshing to see something so spontaneous.

    At first, some onlookers doubted if the band behind James could keep up, but they seemed to handle themselves well, matching James'' energy perfectly.

    When James began to sing and perform with unbridled energy, even the onlookers found themselves affected by his raw presence. His performance was unpolished, energetic, without any of the pretense they''d seen from other artists before.

    A collective chill ran through the crowd when they witnessed the audience singing along with James. It was clear that something incredible was happening ¨C a connection between artist and audience that transcended the usual performer-spectator dynamic.

    Even those who had been skeptical at first found themselves drawn in by the raw authenticity of James'' performance.

    For those in the eye of the storm, right in front of the stage, the experience was fucking incredible.

    As James ze fans, they got chills singing along with him. It felt surreal.

    They were shocked that so many had memorized James'' lyrics, especially since he was just an up-anding artist who''d emerged a few weeks ago. Yet here he was, already bringing so much to the table.

    Many had been skeptical about this outdoor concert, even feeling disappointed, thinking James couldn''t afford to rent a theatre. But now? They were living their lives to the fullest.

    Despite being outdoors with onlookers in the distance, they let loose. James and his bandmates'' performance affected them deeply.

    It was as if they were feeling the thrill of life for the first time.

    As if they were finally rebelling against the cruel world. They were rebelling!

    Expressing it all through the music!

    When James ended the song with, "A mtto, an albino. A mosquito, my libido. A denial," the fans went wild.

    James smiled devilishly. "Yes! Just let it out!"

    "Woo!"

    "Fuck!"

    "This concert is fucking amazing!"

    The crowd didn''t give a shit anymore. For once in their lives, they were being honest.

    James grinned, making a hand gesture with his fingers spread and his thumb tucked in, copying his boss Arthur. He shouted, "Yes! Fuck this hypocrite world! We are not puppets! We are living, breathing people!"

    "WOOO!!!"

    "James! James!"

    The air crackled with energy. This wasn''t just a concert anymore - it was a fucking revolution. The music, the crowd, James'' raw energy - it all came together in a perfect storm of rebellion and authenticity.

    For many in the crowd, this moment would be etched in their memories forever. The day they stopped pretending, the day they embraced their true selves, the day James ze showed them it was okay to be real, to be angry, to be alive.

    As the next song started, the crowd knew: nothing would ever be the same again.

    ***

    ***

    ***

    (Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana)

 Chapter 121: Devilâ€™s Horn

    <h4>Chapter 121: Devil''s Horn</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    James'' concert raged on for two solid hours, with fans losing themselves in the music. The noise level skyrocketed, drawing even more curious onlookers to the park.

    Reporters and bystanders watched in awe as the fans sang along with every song. "This concert is certainly energetic," one reporter remarked, eyes wide at the spectacle.

    Many wondered what it felt like to be in the thick of it, to be one of James'' devoted fans. They noticed James repeating songs or introducing unreleased tracks, yet the crowd''s enthusiasm never wavered. Even with new songs, fans picked up the chorus after hearing it just once, belting it out with James the second time around.

    As the concert wound down, the roar of the crowd gradually subsided. Fans filed out of the venue, their faces flushed with excitement. Reporters pounced, eager to capture their experiences.

    One reporter, despite witnessing the fans'' obvious enjoyment, decided to push a negative angle. "You''ve been standing for hours," he pointed out. "Isn''t it tiring? After all, you paid for tickets."

    A group of four James fans justughed. "Tiring? Hell no! If James'' concert was longer, we''d happily stand for a few more hours!"

    "Haha! I''d stand for a whole damn day!" another chimed in.

    The reporters were taken aback by their enthusiasm.

    Another reporter tried a different tack. "But what''s the point of paying? People could watch James'' concert without-"

    "We don''t care!" a demon fan interrupted, shing the hand sign James had been using throughout the concert. "James deserves the money - so we buy the tickets!"

    The reporters exchanged nces, realizing they''d underestimated the depth of James'' impact. This wasn''t just a fan base - it was a movement.

    As more fans echoed simr sentiments, it became clear that James ze had tapped into something powerful. He wasn''t just selling music; he was offering an experience, a sense of belonging, a way for people to express themselves freely.

    The reporters, realizing they had a much bigger story on their hands than they''d anticipated, furiously scribbled notes.

    ***

    The day after James ze''s concert, newspapers stered their front pages with eye-catching headlines:

    "James ze Outdoor Concert Was Enjoyed By His Fans"

    "The Loudest Concert Ever"

    "A New Music Style Is Taking Over!"

    These attention-grabbing titles were hard to ignore, even for those who initially didn''t care much about James ze or his music style. The sheer amount of coverage his "outdoor concert" received piqued the interest of many readers.

    What really caught people''s attention, though, was the mention of a hand sign James had been spreading, which was rapidly gaining poprity among his fans.

    The newspapers included a picture of the hand sign on their front pages - index finger and pinky raised, middle and ring fingers folded down, thumb tucked in. Many demon readers felt an inexplicable connection to it, sensing an impression of power in its simple gesture.

    Media outlets dubbed it the "Demon''s Horn" or "Devil''s Horn", noting its resemnce to demonic horns. This name struck a chord with the demon poption, who felt the sign somehow represented them.

    Within days, the hand sign''s poprity exploded across the Horn Kingdom. Kids shed it everywhere, picking it up from the media coverage and James'' fans who used it constantly. Even adults found themselves adopting it, feeling it was "kind of cool".

    The trend wasn''t limited to demons. Elves, humans and dwarves living in the Horn Kingdom also started shing the sign, embracing it as part of the local culture.

    At a music store, an elf approached the cashier. "Is the James ze album avable?"

    The cashier nodded and pointed to a specific section.

    The elf smiled, shed the "Devil''s Horn" and said, "Thanks, man."

    The cashier returned the gesture, "No problem!"

    This simple exchange illustrated how deeply the sign had prated everyday interactions. It had be more than just a fan symbol - it was now a universal greeting, a way for people to connect across racial lines.

    The rapid spread of the "Devil''s Horn" set off rm bells within the Srus Church. Their followers, initially caught up in the trend, now found themselves at the center of a growing controversy.

    In a bold move, the Srus Church in the Horn Kingdom called a press conference, inviting reporters from various media outlets.

    The human bishop, his face etched with concern, dered, "We shouldn''t tolerate the spread of this Devil''s Horn. It is the Evil''s Sign!"

    A demon priest, standing beside him, added his voice to the condemnation. "We, the faith of Srus, do not tolerate this kind of hand sign! It is an evil symbol!"

    The bishop nodded gravely, "We have reason to believe that this hand sign is part of an evil plot by Arthur Morningstar."

    These sensational ims quickly made their way to the front pages of newspapers, leaving many Srus followers who had been using the "Devil''s Horn" feeling conflicted. They hadn''t expected their religion to ban such a seemingly harmless gesture.

    However, the Srus Church''s conspiracy theory was met with derision from other faiths and non-human races.

    An elf, reading the news, burst intoughter. "Evil plot by Arthur Morningstar? Give me a break. This Religion of Srus is so paranoid!"

    Even humans of the Srus Faith found the ims absurd. Many thought, "What could that infamous exiled prince Arthur be plotting? He can''t even conjure a fireball!"

    Instead of rming people, the Srus Church''s stance had the opposite effect. Elves and dwarves faithful to their own religions, who previously hadn''t cared about the "Devil''s Horn", began using it specifically to annoy Srus believers.

    The streets of Horn Kingdom became a silent battleground of gestures. Srus followers, caught between their faith and the popr trend, watched as others shed the "Devil''s Horn" with increasing frequency, often apanied by mischievous grins.

    This backfire highlighted the growing disconnect between the Srus Church''s rigid stance and the evolving culturalndscape.

    What was intended as a warning had instead turned into a catalyst, further poprizing the very symbol they sought to suppress.

    ***

    (Arthur''s POV)

    The sales chart for James ze''s music brought a smile to my face. That line just kept climbing with no sign of slowing down.

    I turned to James and Leo, giving them a light apuse. "James, you did an amazing job," I said, then nodded to Leo, "You also did great marketing James effectively."

    Both of them shed embarrassed smiles. James, humble as ever, said, "Boss, if not for the songs youposed for me, I wouldn''t be able to do it."

    Leo chimed in, "And I didn''t do much either, boss. Sure, we talked with media outlets to promote James subtly, but it was your hand sign that really poprized James'' name."

    I could only smile. If they only knew that the songs and that hand sign were from my previous life, not my own creation. But I couldn''t exactly say that, so I just said, "You two are very humble. That''s how it should be."

    I couldn''t help but add, "After all, to grow, you should be humble, because there''s always someone above you - and be content because there''s always someone below you."

    James and Leo exchanged a nce that clearly said, ''Here we go again with his sayings''.

    I chuckled. Couldn''t me them. They probably had enough of my pearls of wisdom.

    But I couldn''t stop myself. I just kept on saying deep stuff sometimes when I was in a good mood.

    We talked for a while before they excused themselves. As I watched them leave, I pondered on the future. Having a "grunge" artist alone wouldn''t be enough to conquer the music industry. I needed bands like the "Beatles", "Queen", and others. They deserved to be known in this world too.

    Still, I was deeply satisfied with what James had achieved in just a few weeks since his debut. I knew the guy had that "rockstar" charm, and I wasn''t wrong in choosing him as my industry nt.

 Chapter 122: The strategy worked out just fine

    <h4>Chapter 122: The strategy worked out just fine</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The anticipation for "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" reached its peak as the official preview approached in dozens of Horn City cinemas. Thousands of tickets vanished within hours, and people flooded into the small theaters for the film''s preview.

    The audience held mixed expectations about Arthur''s martial arts film.

    As demons, they silently hoped Arthur would do the genre justice - after all, martial arts had always held a special ce in their hearts. They yearned to see the genre thrive again, as it once did.

    Would Arthur rekindle the demons'' fascination with martial arts? This question hung in the air as they settled into their seats. Even the demon critics, usually harsh, found themselves rooting for this film, desperately hoping not to be disappointed.

    As the film began, the demons held their breath. While it might not have been a big deal for the elves and dwarves in attendance, for the demons, this was different. Martial arts were rooted in their culture.

    From start to finish, the film surprised not just the demons, but the non-demon races as well. They had expected a muscle-brained plot typical of martial arts films, but this... this was beyond their wildest expectations!

    The fighting scenes were incredible, feeling as if the actors were truly engaged in rare and powerful martial arts. But it wasn''t just action - the film packed an emotional punch too. Some audience members found themselves in tears as Li Mu Bai died at Jade Fox''s hands. And when Jen Yu leapt off the cliff in the finale, the theater was dead silent.

    A demoness wiped her tears with a handkerchief, squeezing her boyfriend''s arm. "Wuwu. This film is so sad!" she sniffled.

    Her boyfriend could only shake his head helplessly, equally moved but trying to maintainposure.

    As the credits rolled, the audience filed out withplicated feelings.

    "Do you think Jen Yu survived the fall?" an elf asked his friend.

    "Are you an idiot? If you leapt off that high cliff, you''d be deader than dead," his friend retorted.

    Others shared the sentiment, feeling certain that Jen Yu couldn''t have survived such a fall.

    Meanwhile, the demon critics left the theatre with mixed emotions, but overall relieved that Arthur hadn''t messed up the martial arts genre. In fact, he might have just elevated it.

    As the crowd dispersed, the buzz of conversation filled the air. It was clear that "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" had not just met expectations - it had shattered them, leaving audiences with a new standard for what a martial arts film could be.

    ***

    On August 1, 1272, following its preview screenings, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" premiered not just in the Horn Kingdom, but simultaneously in Morningstar, Choson, Japon, and the USE. The Leaf Kingdom joined the premiere day, with Deutd, Wales, and the Bharat Kingdom (arge mixed human and demon poption in the Anatolia region) following a few dayster. The distribution reach extended even further, touching many other kingdoms and countries.

    Despite this wider distributionpared to Arthur''s previous films, some media outlets were quick tobel "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" as the weakest of Arthur''s works so far. They drewparisons to his first three films, suggesting this newest offering didn''t quite measure up.

    However, these ims quickly lost credibility as the box office numbers rolled in. The first day''s earnings,bining domestic and international figures, reached a mind-blowing 31 million dors!

    And that was just the beginning. The second day saw a jump to 33 million, followed by 30 million on the third day. Even with a significant dip to 20 million on the fourth day, the film''s performance remained impressive.

    Then came the fifth day, and with it, an astronomical leap to 48 million dors!

    This surge wasrgely due to the film''s release in the Bharat Kingdom, a neighboring realm to Morningstar, as well as its debut in the Leaf Kingdom, Deutd, and Wales.

    The film sparked a unique curiosity among international viewers. For many, it offered their first glimpse into demon culture, providing a window into a world they''d only heard about in stories.

    In Bharat, where demons and humans coexisted, the film resonated deeply with both poptions. Humans lined up alongside their demon neighbors, eager to see how their culture was portrayed on the big screen.

    As "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" continued its run, its performance varied across regions. While it began to decline in Horn, Morningstar, Choson, and Japon, with distributors reducing its screen count, the film was just hitting its stride in South East Anatolia.

    This simultaneous global distribution strategy was Arthur''s idea. Initially, distributors were skeptical when Arthur proposed this approach. But they couldn''t deny its effectiveness once they saw the results.

    The strategy allowed the film to maintain strong overall performance even as it declined in some areas, by opening strong in new markets. This approach meant they could umte box office revenues quickly across multiple regions.

    Despite losing out to Mouse Entertainment''s "Lord of the Mage" - a myth about the Old God Linley''s ascension to godhood - in some markets, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" still raked in impressive box office numbers thanks to Arthur''s strategy.

    This wasn''t the slow, traditional rollout. While Arthur didn''t deliver another phenomenal film like "Lord of the Rings", he introduced a new way of film distribution to the entertainment world.

    Headlines started appearing: "Arthur Morningstar''s Genius Distribution Strategy Paid Off With His New Film Raking In Millions"

    Media outlets found themselves in a peculiar position. They criticized the film itself, but praised Arthur''s genius strategy of simultaneous global release. Initially skeptical of this approach, they nowuded its effectiveness in maximizing box office returns.

    Major and minor film studios alike began taking notes. Arthur''s strategy wasn''t just a one-off sess; it was potentially reshaping how films could be distributed globally.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    [Your Fourth Film''s Box Office Have Hit 130 Million Mark!]

    Reading the system notification brought a genuine smile to my face.

    The system rewarded me with a 20% proficiency increase in using phase 1 of the Primal Morningstar Bloodline.

    Suddenly, I felt more in control of my body. With just a thought, I retracted the horns on my head - now I looked like any other human.

    Then, I easily released my bat-like wings. This time, they were smaller than before, just right for my original form. The huge wings were only necessary for my "noble demon" form - in my original body, they''d been ufortablyrge.

    It''s like having a big lump of breas- cough.

    Anyway, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" earned 100 million in just five days, thanks to its good story and the simultaneous distribution strategy. In a week, it hit the 130 million mark. But the box office has declined rapidly since then.

    I know the film won''t maintain this pace in theing weeks. It''ll probably end around 200 million before distribution stops.

    Several factors contributed to this: the hype dying down, andpetition from films like "Lord of the Mage" by Mouse Entertainment - a decent fantasy film, unlike Titan Pictures'' carbon copy of "Lord of the Rings".

    But it''s fine. I''vepleted a system mission and reached the 100 million goal.

    Now, I just need to make a second film without a VFX Studio to get the {Creator''s Realms} reward.

    As I pondered my next move, I couldn''t help but feel satisfied. The simultaneous global release strategy had paid off, even if some critics didn''t appreciate the film itself. It just proved that in this industry, innovation in distribution could be just as important as the content itself.

    I nced at my now-retracted wings. With these new abilities and the sess of mytest film, I felt ready to take on whatever challenge the system threw at me next. The path to {Creator''s Realms} was clear, and I was more than ready to walk it.

 Chapter 123: About to film the Part 2

    <h4>Chapter 123: About to film the Part 2</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    My next project is, without a doubt, the film many in this world are itching to see - "The Demonfather Part 2".

    Mob boss Anubis meworth, in particr, has been pestering me about it. The guy even followed me to Horn Kingdom - he''s bing an eyesore, honestly.

    It''s like I owe him a huge debt - which, to be fair, I kind of do. He helped start the "Hellfire Agency" and smoothed the transfer of assets to Horn Kingdom. Apparently, Anubis has connections with politicians here. No wonder things went so smoothly.

    Making this film without the VFX Studio will be challenging, but I can manage. Horn Kingdom''s modern city already has backdrops that''ll work fine for the film, like Repulse Bay for Michael Corleone''s birthday celebration scenes. Getting filming permits won''t be an issue either.

    <i>Knock Knock</i>

    "Enter," I said.

    Klein walked in, looking excited. "Boss, our VFX Studio is officiallyplete! That dwarf-basedpany SCULPTURE finished quickly, and I think it''s even better than our former studio!"

    I nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement myself. Films like "Star Wars", "The Wizard of Oz", and "Harry Potter" suddenly seemed within reach.

    "That''s great. But we won''t be using it much. We''ll be filming our next project without the VFX Studio," I said.

    Klein frowned, looking disappointed. "Why? We can make our next film project there!"

    I understand how he feels, but it has to be done. To get that {Creator''s Realms}, I need to sacrifice the VFX Studio use.

    "Well..." I thought for a moment, then said, "Our next film doesn''t require much VFX, so it''ll save us on the budget."

    I added, "I also want to prove to the world that making great films without fancy and expensive VFX is possible."

    Klein looked conflicted but seemed to be trying to understand.

    After a brief chat, he left with slumped shoulders. I felt a twinge of guilt, but reminded myself of the bigger picture. Sometimes, you have to take a step back to leap forward. And with {Creator''s Realms} as the prize, it''ll be worth it in the end.

    Klein probably won''t be the only one asking why I won''t use the VFX studio, but I''ll just give them the same reason I gave Klein. Honestly, what I told him makes a lot of sense.

    It''s true that indie filmmakers in this world are struggling to survive in an industry where only VFX studio productions seem eptable. Especially when VFX studios are only affordable for big studios.

    Well, I''m partly to me because my films raised this world''s standards. But that doesn''t mean great films always need VFX.

    Sure, there''s "Lord of the Mage" by Mouse Entertainment that beat my "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" at the box office. And Lava Pictures'' recent film "The Legendary Spell" is decent, though not matching "Lord of the Rings". But filmmakers shouldn''t have to rely on VFX studios all the time.

    After all, it''s risky. If a VFX-heavy film flops, like Titan Pictures'' attempt, they lose a huge amount of money. VFX is a money burner.

    Proving to the world that VFX isn''t everything might inspire more indie filmmakers.

    Thinking about it, I wonder if the system is trying to teach me something. Like not relying solely on VFX, and being more efficient with film projects.

    If there''s a real-world backdrop avable, why use VFX that requires a huge budget?

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    A few dayster, Arthur met with Anubis meworth in an expensive restaurant. Anubis''s reaction when Arthur informed him about "The Demonfather Part 2" was priceless.

    "Re-really? You''re finally making the Demonfather sequel?!" Anubis''s eyes widened in shock.

    "Shh!" Arthur looked around nervously. "Why are you acting so dramatically? Someone might have heard you!"

    Anubis quickly covered his mouth and nodded. He nced around, realizing he''d attracted some attention. "I apologize for that."

    Arthur sighed, both amused and exasperated by Anubis''s enthusiasm. He''d known the mob boss would be excited, but this reaction was beyond his expectations.

    Anubis regained hisposure and said, "I lost my cool there for a moment."

    "I understand," Arthur sighed. "You want to be part of the film, right? I think I have a role for you..."

    "Before that, Mr. Morningstar," Anubis interjected, "Actually, I also wanted to rmend some people for the cast of the next Demonfather. It''s okay if you don''t agree with this request."

    "Oh?" Arthur''s curiosity was piqued.

    "I have a group of friends also interested in being part of the film." Anubis took out his wallet and produced a few pictures. "This is what they look like. I wonder what roles you could give them?"

    Arthur examined the pictures. His eyes lingered on an old demon - a scale demon with antennae reminiscent of Polo from Dragon Ball.

    "Who is this demon?" he asked Anubis.

    "That''s Don Leviathan - he''s a boss of the Leviathan family from Apple City," Anubis exined.

    Anubis continued, pointing to another demon about his age, "This is Anus Leviathan Hades, Don Leviathan''s nephew. Also a soldier in the Leviathan family."

    "Anus?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What an interesting name..."

    Anubis smiled as he pointed out more pictures. "These are my friends interested in being in a movie."

    Arthur stroked his chin thoughtfully. Don Leviathan could fit the role of "Hyman" perfectly. He definitely looked like a lizard - ideal for a viin role.

    As for Anus Hades? What a bizarre name. Anus,bined with "Hades," the king of the underworld in his previous life? That name could be interpreted in many ways.

    These unconventional characters could add an interesting dynamic to the film. Plus, casting Anubis''s friends might secure his continued support. But he had to be careful not topromise his vision for the sake of appeasing a mob boss.

    "These are... interesting candidates," Arthur said diplomatically. "I''ll certainly consider them as we move forward with casting. But remember, the right fit for the role is crucial for the film''s sess."

    Anubis nodded eagerly, clearly pleased that Arthur was at least considering his suggestions.

    After the meeting with Arthur, Anubis''s excitement was palpable, even to his men. He turned to his right-hand man, dering, "Cancel all my schedule around August 8¡ª"

    He abruptly stopped, seeming to realize something, before amending, "Nah, just cancel all of my schedule for the whole of August."

    Miguel, his right-hand man - a name Anubis had chosen due to his obsession with ''The Demonfather'' - looked confused. "Why, boss? You have a meeting with an important person from the Devil Triad!"

    Hearing this, Anubis''s expression grewplicated. "Don''t worry about it. I''ll just send that person a letter. And as a token of apology, give him my..." He gritted his teeth before continuing, "My precious Katana as an apology for not attending..."

    Miguel''s jaw dropped in shock. "You... You will give your precious Katana to-to him?" He knew how important that ''katana'' was to his boss. It was a gift from that beautiful fox demon in Japon.

    "I- I can only do this," Anubis looked fearful. "We can''t offend the Devil Triad just like that."

    Miguel gulped and nodded. Then he asked, "Why can''t you just attend the meeting, boss?"

    Anubis''s mood seemed to lift as he smiled, "It''s because I will be focused on the production of Demonfather Part 2!"

    "Demonfather Part 2!?" Miguel eximed, surprised.

    Anubis realized he''d just revealed the secret Arthur had asked him to keep. He sighed and said, "You better keep your mouth shut about this, or I''ll cut your head off!"

    Miguel nodded fearfully, "Of course, of course!"

    Anubis continued, "I am fortunate enough to not only be part of Demonfather Part 2, but also to oversee its production to see if it''s any good or not."

    Miguel looked at his boss with admiration.

    Anubis kept on talking, saying that he would take on the role of the young Vito Corleone.

    As Anubis rambled on, Miguel couldn''t help but wonder how much of what his boss was saying was true and how much was exaggeration.

 Chapter 124: The artifact is shivering

    <h4>Chapter 124: The artifact is shivering</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Films like "Lord of the Mage" and the new "The Legendary Spell" were huge sesses, raking in millions of dors. The world was witnessing the dawn of a new era.

    Gone were the days of simple colored films. Media outlets were calling this the "VFX Era" - a transformation sparked by Arthur''s films "Lord of the Rings" and "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly".

    Filmmakers around the world initially thanked Arthur for bringing such groundbreaking films. However, as they struggled to keep up with the rapidly changing world of cinema due to limited VFX budgets, many began to resent Arthur Morningstar.

    Even renowned critics like Caedan were uneasy about this development. Despite his love for "Lord of the Rings", he said in an interview, "A masterpiece can still be made without VFX Studio - such example was The Demonfather, which, in my opinion, couldn''t be matched by Lord of the Rings in terms of storytelling."

    Of course, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" stood as a testament to sessful films made without VFX studios. Though its poprity was waning, it remained a topic of discussion.

    Morningstar Kingdom media outlets continued to rave about it, particrly Damien Darkme''s involvement. Headlines like "Damien Darkme Redeeming His Career With Arthur''s New Martial Arts Film" weremon.

    Indeed, Damien''s career had been on a downward spiral due to the scandal of assaulting his manager and agent. But with "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon", he was slowly making aeback.

    This demonstrated the power of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon", a film created without VFX Studio. However, due to its significant decline after the first week, many believed it still couldn''tpare to the new VFX-heavy films in terms of box office performance and visual effects.

    The future of the film industry was a hot topic, with media outlets featuring it prominently in their newspapers. Amidst this discussion, surprising news surfaced: Arthur Morningstar was set to make another film without using VFX Studio.

    Headlines zed across newspapers:

    "Arthur Morningstar Defies Trends: New Film to Forgo VFX Studio" - Horn Daily reported, "Hellfire crew members spotted scouting locations across Horn Kingdom, with preparations underway at Repulse Bay."

    Science Daily took a more critical stance: "Hellfire''s New VFX Studio Complete, Yet Arthur Opts for Non-VFX Film - Will It Disappoint Like His Martial Arts Film?"

    Media outlets spected wildly about the potential oue of Arthur''s film, but public excitement seemed muted.

    Major studios with uing VFX-heavy films exuded confidence. They''d witnessed Arthur''s "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" fall to VFXdenpetitors - proof that the ex-prince wasn''t invincible in the entertainment industry.

    In an interview, Titan Pictures chairman Alexander offered a biting analysis: "Arthurcks confidence in his ability to craft quality films even with VFX Studio at his disposal. He''s setting up a convenient excuse for when his film inevitably flops."

    This reasoning struck a chord, sparking heated debates about whether Arthur was running out of ideas.

    ***

    Meanwhile, at Repulse Bay, tourists and locals frolicked in the sea and on the beach, oblivious to the transformation taking ce at the resort. Arthur and his crew were busy redecorating the entire ce for their uing shoot.

    Having purchased the resort outright for the production, Arthur had free rein. He altered designs,pletely changedyouts, and reshaped the resort to fit his vision.

    He''d also acquired a vi on Victory Peak to serve as the Corleone Family mansion.

    Even before filming began, Arthur had invested tens of thousands of dors.

    Arthur''s substantial investment in "Demonfather Part 2" didn''t faze him. He knew the film''s profitability would more than justify the expense.

    Purchasing filming locations like the resort and vi was a strategic move. Arthur envisioned future profit from fans eager to visit where Michael and other Demonfather characters "lived and breathed."

    Anubis''s connections smoothed the property acquisitions, and the mob boss even pitched in with the resort setup.

    ***

    Anubis watched the production unfold with growing excitement - auditions, casting, location prep - everything was progressing smoothly.

    ''As expected of Arthur,'' Anubis thought, observing Arthur skillfully manage his crew.

    As Anubis spent more time on set, his admiration for Arthur grew. The ex-prince''s directorial prowess impressed him, but what truly astonished Anubis was Arthur''s ghostly workforce.

    Seeing specters working alongside the living crew had initially left Anubis dumbfounded. It was his first encounter with actual ghosts, and the fact that they had names of their own only added to the surreal experience.

    "Diddy, can you rearrange those props up there?" Anubis called out to one of the ghosts, pointing at a high shelf.

    Diddy turned, eyeing Anubis disdainfully. "You think you can just order me around?"

    Anubis chuckled, well aware that the ghosts only feared and obeyed Arthur. "Well, it won''t be me who''s angry if something''s amiss on set. Mr. Arthur will be the one furious-"

    "Can''t you reach it yourself?" Diddy grumbled, but floated towards the shelf.

    "I''d rather not waste time, and it''s hardly difficult for you," Anubis shrugged.

    Diddy sneered at Anubis, purposefully pushing through him as he passed.

    The chill of the ghostly contact sent a shiver down Anubis''s spine, but he grinned. Working on this film was unlike anything he''d experienced before.

    Though Anubis wanted to teach the ghosts like Diddy a lesson, he knew he wouldn''t be able to touch them unfortunately. His hands would just pass through their bodies. He was having a hard time understanding how Arthur could make them so obedient just like that.

    While Anubis was pondering how Arthur could hire ghosts like Diddy, Arthur was having a talk with the crew. They prepared the set the whole day, and everyone went home exhausted.

    ***

    The next day, the resort was finally ready for the uing shooting. The cast began to arrive for the scenes where Michael celebrated his birthday.

    One by one, they arrived, andter on, Firfel came to the resort.

    Her eyes taking in the grand and luxurious surroundings. After setting her belongings on a nearby couch, she felt an unexpected sensation. The ancient amulet suspended from her ne suddenly quivered against her skin.

    She froze, startled. ''The amulet... it''s finally reacting. But not to my magic,'' she thought.

    Firfel had been attempting to elicit a response from the amulet with her magical power for weeks, but to no avail. Yet now, out of nowhere, it trembled?

    Cautiously, she channeled her magic into the amulet, establishing a connection. She wasn''t expecting much, but suddenly, she could sense the amulet in a way she never had before. Though she couldn''t glean much information, she could somehow perceive its... feelings?

    Astonishment washed over Firfel as she processed what the amulet was experiencing. An artifact with feelings? It defied logic.

    The overwhelming emotion radiating from the amulet was fear. Puzzled, Firfel shook her head, trying to refocus on the task at hand - preparing for the uing shoot.

    As she approached Arthur and the others, the amulet against her chest intensified its shivering.

    Confusion clouded Firfel''s mind. She reinforced her magical link to the amulet, only to find herself unexpectedly affected by its emotions. "What''s causing you such terror?" she murmured.

    Despite the unsettling sensation, Firfel found herself drawn in the direction of the amulet''s fear. When she realized it led straight to Arthur, shock coursed through her.

    Surely Arthur couldn''t be the source of the amulet''s dread. It had never reacted this way to him before.

    Yet, as she maintained her magical connection to the amulet, Firfel''s gaze was inexplicably drawn to Arthur''s golden ring.

    ''Could that ring be responsible?'' Firfel mused internally, though she strongly doubted it.

    "Firfel!" Arthur''s voice cut through her thoughts. "You''ve arrived. Come join us, we''re discussing the uing shoot."

    Firfel nodded, keenly aware of the amulet''s constant tremor of fear. With a steady hand, she tucked it beneath her clothing, pressing it close to her chest. Its trembling eased, though the unease lingered faintly.

 Chapter 125: Uno Reverse Card, and... The balls is out!!!

    <h4>Chapter 125: Uno Reverse Card, and... The balls is out!!!</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Shooting Michael''s son''s Communion celebration wasn''t overlyplex, but the bustling set drew a crowd of onlookers.

    I spotted photographers in the distance, undoubtedly working for the media. Local news outlets would surely specte about my new film. While I couldn''t stop them entirely, I had security and Anubis''s men chase them away when they got too close.

    Dressed in a suit, I knew any "Demonfather" fans would immediately recognize me as Michael Corleone. I directed the shoot while in character, capturing the interactions between cast members, then filming Michael''s conversation with Senator Pat Geary, portrayed by a white-haired, aged-up Rupert.

    After four takes, we took a break. I reviewed the scenes on the monitor, sipping my iced coffee and checking for mistakes. The ghosts handled the difficult camera shots surprisingly well.

    I wondered if they could act as proficiently. I had ns for these specters in future projects, like the ghosts in Harry Potter. With enough training, they might pull it off. {Heartstrings} doesn''t work on ghosts, so I''d have to rely on old-fashioned coaching.

    "Arthur."

    A soft voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see Firfel approaching, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions.

    "Do you... have a moment?" she asked hesitantly.

    I nodded. "Having trouble with your acting?"

    Firfel shook her head, settling beside me. "It''s not about the acting... I just wanted to..." She trailed off, seemingly reluctant to continue.

    "You wanted to...?" I gently prompted.

    She took a deep breath. "I wanted to ask about the ring on your finger."

    What? I felt a surge of caution. Could Firfel have sensed something unusual about my ring? Surely she couldn''t have detected that it was more than an ordinary essory.

    That should be impossible. The {Devourer Ring} is at level 3 and can disguise itself as amon ring. I''m certain even my father, the demon king, wouldn''t spot the difference.

    "Why do you ask?" I probed, keeping my tone neutral.

    Firfel didn''t hesitate. "The amulet we bought at the auction is acting strangely around it."

    As confusion crossed my face, she revealed the amulet hidden beneath her clothes. To my astonishment, it was visibly trembling.

    "It''s actually shaking!" I eximed, genuinely surprised.

    Firfel nodded, pointing at my golden ring. "It seems terrified of your ring."

    I raised an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. "How can you tell it fears my ring?"

    "I channeled my magic into it," Firfel exined, concern evident in her voice. "Somehow, I sensed its feelings. The artifact''s fear is directed at your ring."

    Studying the ancient amulet, I realized it must be extraordinary to sense the {Devourer Ring}''s true nature despite its disguise. I needed to think fast.

    "I just bought this ring from a vendor," I lied smoothly. "It''s not even real gold."

    Firfel''s expression grew serious. "I think that ring is cursed or contains something evil. You should throw it away."

    Throw it away? Ridiculous. I''d never discard the {Devourer Ring} so carelessly. "No, I don''t believe there''s anything wrong with my ring. It''s certainly not cursed."

    Then, I yed an uno reverse card. "I think the amulet you''re holding is the cursed one."

    "What?!" Firfel eximed, shock evident on her face.

    I nodded confidently. "I believe my ring has an evil-repelling effect. The amulet, clearly cursed, is afraid of it."

    "I don''t think so..." Firfel''s confidence wavered. "This amulet reportedly belonged to the third queen of Roses Kingdom..."

    I shrugged, seizing the opportunity. "Maybe the queen cursed it. After all, it wouldn''t have sold at auction for mere thousands of dors otherwise. The owner was probably trying to dispose of it while still turning a profit."

    As doubt crept into Firfel''s eyes, I felt a mix of relief and guilt. I hated lying to her, but I couldn''t risk anyone discovering the true nature of the {Devourer Ring}.

    "Do you really think the amulet is cursed?" Firfel asked, her voice trembling with concern.

    I hesitated, guilt gnawing at me. Her worried expression was just too precious. Any man seeing her like this would feel an overwhelming urge to protect her, to ensure not even a fly woulde near her.

    "How about I take a look at that amulet?" I finally offered. "I''ll return it, don''t worry. I just want to see what might be wrong with it."

    Firfel looked conflicted but ultimately nodded. "Okay..." She unsped the amulet from her ne and handed it to me.

    "Please take care of it. Don''t lose it," she said firmly.

    "Don''t worry about it," I smiled reassuringly. As soon as the amulet touched my palm, it began trembling intensely.

    ''What am I going to do with you?'' I thought, studying it closely. Perhaps I should peek at its secrets? It must have something special to sense the true nature of my ring...

    I tucked it into my wallet and turned back to Firfel, gently caressing her back. "Don''t worry. I''ll investigate what kind of curse might be on your amulet."

    Firfel didn''t shy away from my touch, but doubt lingered in her eyes. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

    I chuckled, "Come on, haven''t you noticed how much I''ve improved in magic?"

    She nodded thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it, when I first worked with you, you were obviously weak in magic, but now... You''ve somehow changed..."

    "Let''s not dwell on that. We should focus on the shooting for now," I said, swiftly changing the subject.

    As I guided Firfel back to the set, my mind wandered to the "Dragon Ball" manga distribution. It should be hitting the shelves in my Hellfire stores across Horn City right about now. I wondered how many people had read it yet...

    ***

    (Ichiro Yamato POV)

    Coming to Horn City for rxation was indeed the right choice. From the Dragon Walled City to the "Twinkle Ferry" with its beautiful sea views, the city offered a charm distinct from my home kingdom, Japon.

    While the city presented many novel experiences, I found myself missing thefort ofics and manga during quiet evenings. Sure, interesting novels like "The Legend of the Monkey King" from Morningstar and "Harry Potter" were avable, but theycked the visual storytelling I craved.

    My travels to Empirica had satisfied this need with theirics, but Horn City''s offerings feltcking, limited to unpopr, boring Empiricanics in hotel rooms.

    As I wandered the city, camera in hand, amotion outside "Hellfire Bookstore" caught my attention. A demon barker shouted, "Listen, everyone! Hellfire Bookstore now has a new entertaining manhua created by Arthur Morningstar himself! Come on,e on! Everyone can have a look!"

    The word ''manhua'' piqued my interest more than the mention of the ex-prince. "A manhua? Where can I read it?" I asked eagerly.

    The demon pointed towards the store, and I found myself drawn inside the crowded shop. My eyes locked onto a shelfbeled "Arthur''s First Manhua Here!"

    The cover art of "Dragon Ball" immediately captured my attention. I grabbed a copy, skepticism warring with curiosity as I flipped it open.

    I knew Arthur Morningstar for his films, but manhua? What could he possibly know about the art form?

    True, we in Japon had borrowed the concept ofics from Empirica and Ancient Morningstar Art, even adopting the Morningstar ancient word "manhua" for our "manga". But we''d elevated the medium, establishing it firmly in our own culture. It''s already immensely popr in Japon, and we''re also working on spreading it internationally.

    But I am curious what the Morningstar can offer. They''re even reviving the word "Manhua" for this work called "Dragon Ball".

    As I delved into the manhua, I couldn''t deny it - the story was intriguing, to say the least. It followed a young boy named Goku, and just the first Chapter brought a smile to my face.

    The banter between Goku and Bulma, coupled with Goku''s innocence, was genuinely amusing. Their quest for the "Dragon Balls" was engaging, and even the introduction of the short antagonist emperor Pf and his crew didn''t dampen my enjoyment. If anything, these characters came across as moreical than threatening.

    Flipping through the pages, I chuckled at Goku mistaking Shu and Mai''s airship for a bird.

    The design of the air vehicle seemed odd - how could it fly without sails? But I reminded myself this was fantasy; I shouldn''t scrutinize the logistics too closely.

    I lost track of time as I reached the part where Goku encounters a turtle. As he''s helping the creature, a primal demon tiger appears, demanding the turtle on Goku''s back for a meal.

    Goku defeats the primal demon, but what truly caught my attention was his interaction with the turtle afterwards. He asks the turtle if he''s delicious, to which the turtle fearfully shakes his head. Goku then remarks, shaking his head, "Some people just eat anything. Not me though," referring to the primal demon.

    "Kid, you literally just ate anything, from centipedes to wolves¡ª" I found myself saying out loud, caught up in the story''s humor.

    My outburst was cut short by a stern look from a fiend demon. I realized with a start that this must be the store owner.

    "Are you buying the manhua or not?" he asked pointedly.

    Embarrassment washed over me as I became aware of how long I''d been standing there, engrossed in the story. "I- I''ll buy it!" I stammered quickly.

    As I fumbled for my wallet, I marveled at how easily the manhua had drawn me in. I''de to browse, and here I was, purchasing a copy without a second thought. The story''s charm, the characters'' quirks, and the world''s unique blend of the familiar and fantastical had hooked me more thoroughly than I''d expected.

 Chapter 126: Ancient Magic

    <h4>Chapter 126: Ancient Magic</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    After purchasing volume 1 of "Dragon Ball", Ichiro tucked it safely in his bag, deciding to save it forter at the hotel. He spent hours exploring Horn City before finally returning to his room, eager to dive back into the manhua.

    Though he had already read Chapter one at the store, Ichiro was curious to see if the subsequent Chapters would maintain the same level of intrigue. With the bedsidemp casting a warm glow, he settled in to continue Goku''s adventure.

    Hours slipped by unnoticed as Ichiro immersed himself in the story. It wasn''t until he turned the final page that he realized he had finished the entire volume in one sitting.

    "I''m already out of Chapters..." Ichiro sighed, disappointment evident in his voice. ncing at the clock, his eyes widened in surprise. "It''s already 3 AM!?"

    Shaking his head in disbelief, Ichiro marveled at how quickly time had passed. His gaze returned to the "Dragon Ball" cover, focusing on the illustration of the wishing balls.

    "I wonder if dragon balls exist?" Ichiro mused aloud, considering the possibility. It reminded him of how people spected about the existence of rings from "Lord of the Rings" after its release.

    Ichiro quickly dismissed the thought. "It''s just a fantasy story," he reminded himself. After all, even in the manhua, it wasn''t yet confirmed if the balls could actually grant wishes, as Goku and Bulma had yet to gather all seven.

    As he set the book aside, Ichiro''s thoughts turned to his mother, who owned a manga publishingpany in Japon. He felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of showing her "Dragon Ball." Her reaction to this Morningstar manhua could be interesting, given her expertise in the industry.

    Ichiro yawned, thete hour finally catching up with him. As he switched off themp and settled into bed, his mind continued to wander through the world of "Dragon Ball."

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    I''ve been filming "Demonfather Part 2" for days now, waiting to see if Anubis''s friends can actually act in my film. During my free time, like now, I''ve been examining Firfel''s amulet.

    Seeing it shiver pitifully, I decided to store my ring in the system while investigating. Without the ring''s presence, the amulet cooled down, its trembling significantly reduced.

    I attempted to inject my magic into it, but it rebuffed me each time.

    "This amulet is pretty stubborn," I muttered, frustrated.

    I''ve been researching the ancient runes on it, but so far, I''vee up empty. Not surprising, given how little is known about ancient runes. I''ve pored over books on the subject, but no luck.

    The only consistent reaction I''ve observed is the amulet''s response to my ring. This gave me an idea.

    I pulled the ring from the system storage. The moment it materialized, the amulet sensed it and started trembling again.

    I shook my head, feeling an odd pity for the amulet, despite it being a mere artifact. Its genuine fear of the ring was unsettling.

    Turning my attention to the ring, I noticed it exuding an ominous aura near the amulet.

    "Is this ring actuallymunicating with the amulet?" I wondered aloud, astonished to see what appeared to be an interaction between the two artifacts.

    The scene before me was almostical. My small ring, despite its size, seemed to act like a bossy Chihuahua, while therger amulet cowered like a frightened chicken.

    "Interesting..." I stroked my chin, intrigued. "I wonder what these two are talking about?"

    As I observed their silentmunication, my mind raced with possibilities. Could understanding this interaction unlock new secrets about both artifacts? And more importantly, how could I use this knowledge to my advantage?

    I made a mental note to research more about artifactmunication. If these inanimate objects could interact, what other surprises might be lurking in the magical items of this world?

    I imagined the ring scolding the amulet, exuding an air of authority while the amulet cowered before it.

    To my astonishment, the amulet began to release magic, offering it to the ring on my finger. The magical power it gave off reminded me of Firfel''s. It must be her magical essence.

    Sensing my ring was enjoying bullying the poor amulet, I quickly returned it to the system storage.

    I turned my attention back to the still-shivering amulet, gently caressing it. "Poor guy," I muttered sympathetically.

    This time, when I injected my magic power, the amulet didn''t resist. It weed my magical energy with open arms. This change of heart surprised me. I wondered if the ring was responsible for making the amulet more receptive.

    After channeling for a bit, I stopped as information about the amulet began to flow into my mind. I could even sense its feelings. Firfel was right; the amulet did have emotions.

    Memories flooded my consciousness: a dwarf crafting the amulet. But as I watched, a dragon appeared beside the craftsman. I wondered if the dwarf was actually a half-giant, half-dwarf, given its enormous size yet distinctly dwarven features.

    "??????????????????????????????????????." the dwarf spoke to the dragon.

    Whatnguage was that? I couldn''t understand a word!

    The scene ended, leaving me confused. It was clearly a memory from the distant past, in anguage far beyond myprehension.

    [Ding! You have discovered the ancient artifact "The Giant''s Gift".]

    [Queen Rose the Third Amulet]

    (An amulet full of mysteries! Unravel its secrets to discover its true purpose.)

    I''d hoped to finally understand the amulet''s true purpose, but this revtion seemed iplete. At least I now knew it was indeed a gift from the giants.

    I also received a reward for discovering the amulet - an ancient magical element.

    [You receive the reward: Rose Magic]

    Rose Magic.

    Is it just some shy spell?

    As information about the magic flowed into me, I learned that Rose Magic could be used for healing and would enhance my mana absorption when in nature.

    It also boosted my charm attribute.

    Maybe using it would make me more charismatic?

    I could try it around Firfel.

    At the same time, I discovered that as my proficiency with Rose Magic increased, I could even visit other people''s dreams. Now that''s pretty cool.

    And if my mastery of it skyrocketed, I might even use it for divination - though I doubt I''ll ever reach that level of proficiency.

    After all, it demands a significant understanding of magic. Like, dedicating almost all my time to mastering various types of magic - which isn''t feasible given my focus on the business.

    Still, the potential of Rose Magic intrigued me. Healing, enhanced mana absorption, increased charm, dream walking, and potentially divination - it was a versatile magical skill set. Even if I couldn''t master itpletely, any improvements in these areas could be beneficial.

    Rose Magic seems more intricate than ordinary spells.

    I conjured a rose from my palm, noting its healing effect.

    As soon as I employed Rose Magic, the amulet responded, as if awakening.

    Holding it with Rose Magic-infused hands, the amulet grew intimate with me.

    Interesting... Could Rose Magic hold special significance for this amulet?

    Not surprising, considering it belonged to the third queen of the Roses Kingdom.

    Of course, hailing from the Roses Kingdom, she must have wielded Rose Magic.

    "I wonder what your true purpose is..." I mused, studying the amulet.

    I retrieved the ring from system storage. This time, the amulet didn''t cower in fear.

    Even my ring''s hostility had dissipated. It seemed the two artifacts had be... friends?

    This development intrigued me. The Rose Magic appeared to have brokered a peace between the ring and the amulet. Could this magic serve as a bridge between other conflicting magical items? Or was this unique to these particr artifacts?

    I toyed with the idea of delving deeper into the rtionship between Rose Magic and the amulet. There might be more secrets to uncover, more powers to unlock. But for now, I had a film to make and an amulet to return.

 Chapter 127: Changes in the artifact

    <h4>Chapter 127: Changes in the artifact</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    After wrapping up the day''s shoot, I called Firfel over. "Here''s your amulet," I said, handing it to her.

    Firfel took it, examining it closely. "You''ve removed the curse?"

    I smiled, nodding. "Yes, it''s not cursed anymore. Look, it''s not reacting to my evil-repeller ring."

    Firfel nced between the ring on my hand and the amulet, doubt flickering in her eyes.

    "You''re right. It''s not reacting anymore..." she admitted, sounding impressed. "How did you manage that?"

    "Umm..." I hesitated, then added, "I learned a rare technique to remove curses. But I can only use it once a year..."

    Firfel eyed me suspiciously. "And you used this rare technique on my amulet?"

    I nodded.

    "Didn''t you feel it was a waste to use it on this amulet?" she pressed.

    "Haha, I don''t have much use for that technique. No worries," I assured her, but Firfel''s look clearly said ''Uh huh.''

    She didn''t fully buy the exnation, but it would have to do.

    ***

    The next day, we began shooting at the expensive vi on Victory Peak. Anubis arrived on set with his friends in tow.

    I recognized them from the pictures Anubis had shown me earlier - these were the ones curious of Demonfather Part 2.

    The old demon with Polo-like antennae was Don Leviathan, and the other scale demon was Anus. There were also some unfamiliar faces among them.

    "Mr. Arthur," Anubis said, gesturing to hispanions, "These are my friends. They''re curious about the production of Demonfather Part 2."

    "And this is the respected Don Leviathan," Anubis introduced the antennae-sporting demon.

    "It''s a pleasure to meet the famous prince behind Demonfather!" Leviathan eximed, opening his arms wide, clearly angling for a hug.

    Why not? It''s just a hug. But when I embraced him, Leviathan squeezed me so tightly I thought my eyes might pop out.

    I cleared my throat, and Don Leviathan took the hint, releasing me. "Hahaha, sorry if I got a little excited," he chuckled. "I just see Michael Corleone in you!"

    "No problem," I replied, brushing it off.

    "This is Anus Hades," Anubis introduced next.

    I shook hands with Anus as he said, "I love Demonfather. It''s a masterpiece."

    "Thanks," I smiled genuinely.

    "Though I hope this Demonfather Part 2 won''t disappoint," Anus added.

    Before I could respond, Anubis interjected, "Hehe, it won''t. I''ve been in production for days, read the script, and I''ve got to say, this one''s as good as the first Demonfather!"

    I looked at Anubis, speechless. "Hey, now you''re spoiling them," I chided.

    "Ah, sorry, sorry!" Anubis bowed his head apologetically.

    I noticed his friends'' surprise at Anubis''s humility. Can''t me them. A few weeks ago, I wouldn''t have imagined Anubis being so respectful to me. But it seems he''s grown to respect me after seeing the Demonfather Part 2 script and development progress.

    After chatting with Anubis and his friends, we continued filming. I tested the acting skills of Don Leviathan, Anus, and the others, but they were stiff as boards.

    Still, I knew they could improve. After all, Anubis had acted well as the young Don Vito Corleone. Though I suspect it was Anubis''s love for Demonfather and Don Vito that helped him act so convincingly.

    I had Don Leviathan, Anus, and the others do mock scenes, but they clearly had a lot to learn.

    A few dayster, after intense coaching, Leviathan, Anus, and the others seemed to be gradually settling into their roles. They were slowly transforming into actors.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    During the filming of "Demonfather Part 2", Firfel noticed a subtle shift in her amulet.

    She struggled to articte the change - it appeared the same, yet somehow felt different. The amulet now exuded a cool, soothing aura.

    In moments of exhaustion, she found that simply touching the amulet left her refreshed and reinvigorated. This wasn''t mere illusion; she could tangibly feel her energy returning upon contact with the amulet when tired. The phenomenon puzzled her.

    Back in her apartment after the shoot, Firfel studied the amulet intently. "What did Arthur do to you?" she muttered, curiosity gnawing at her.

    The amulet seemed improved, in her opinion. She pondered how Arthur could have aplished this.

    "Could it be that he really used a rare technique on the amulet?" she mused aloud. Initially skeptical of Arthur''s im, she now began to consider the truth in his words.

    While Arthur might not have divulged all the details, perhaps he had indeed removed the curse, unlocking the amulet''s basic functions like healing.

    Strangely, she found she could no longer channel her magic into it. The amulet seemed to reject her magical power outright.

    As Firfel turned the amulet over in her hands, her mind raced with possibilities. What other secrets might this artifact hold?

    And what exactly had Arthur done to cause such a transformation? The mystery deepened, leaving Firfel both intrigued and slightly unsettled by the power Arthur seemed to wield so casually.

    ***

    The next day on set, Firfel approached Arthur, noticing an inexplicable change in him. He seemed more... radiant.

    "Hey, you''re glowing today!" she remarked.

    Arthur turned, shing a smile. "Really?" he chuckled. "Or maybe you''re starting to develop feelings for me?"

    Firfel blushed despite herself. "You''re delusional."

    "Haha, I''m just teasing," Arthurughed, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Your face is turning red!"

    Annoyed, Firfel nudged him. Arthur''s yful jabs made her reconsider asking about the amulet. She pouted, not wanting to admit how his teasing actually got to her, and walked away.

    In the distance, she overheard Klein: "Haha, boss, I think you''re the one developing feelings-"

    "Someone''s about to lose a job," Arthur retorted, effectively silencing Klein.

    Firfel couldn''t help but wonder if Arthur did have feelings for her. Yet, she hesitated to entertain the idea of a rtionship. Her focus remained on bing a great actress and proving her family wrong.

    ***

    Days slipped by as Arthur began filming the young Vito Corleone scenes.

    The production expanded into Horn City itself, with Arthur and his crew transforming parts of the district to appear fifty years older for the camera. They arranged props meticulously, creating a bygone era for the lens to capture.

    They also needed arge number of extras for several scenes, so the crew began negotiating with local residents for their cooperation.

    The district''s residents responded with unexpected enthusiasm to the prospect of being part of Arthur Morningstar''s new mob film.

    "A film by Arthur Morningstar?" a demon eximed when approached by Klein. "Count me in!"

    Klein''s relief was palpable. Other crew members found simr excitement as they recruited locals. "Arthur''s filming in our district? I want to be part of it!" was amon refrain.

    The willingness to cooperate for the film''s production was overwhelming. It seemed Arthur''s name carried significant weight among the people, despite the media''s less-than-favorable stance.

    As filmingmenced, curious onlookers gathered at a distance to observe.

    "Wow, is this Arthur''s new film?" one demon wondered aloud.

    Another spected, "Do you think it''s Demonfather sequel?"

    A dwarf chimed in, "If it''s Demonfather sequel, I''ll definitely watch it!" He paused, then added, "But Hellfire''s only calling it a ''mob'' film. Maybe it''s a different mob story, not Demonfather."

    The air buzzed with excitement and spection. Even those not directly involved in the production felt a sense of pride that their district had been chosen as a filming location.

    Arthur, overhearing some of the chatter, couldn''t help but smile. The locals'' enthusiasm was infectious, adding an energy to the set that no amount of direction could manufacture. He made a mental note to include as many of them as possible in background scenes ¨C their genuine excitement would trante well on screen.

 Chapter 128: Wrapped up and renting failed

    <h4>Chapter 128: Wrapped up and renting failed</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Weeks flew by, and Arthur''s production of "Demonfather Part 2" nearedpletion without major hitches.

    Anubis, Leviathan, Anus, and the other mobsters who''d witnessed the production found themselves in aplex emotional state. They''d be too invested, and Michael''s arc left them conflicted.

    The order to kill his brother Fredo hit hard. The mobsters didn''t want to ept it, yet their line of work made Michael''s decision grimly understandable. Fredo''s betrayal had nearly cost Michael and his wife their lives, all because he couldn''t stomach taking orders from his younger brother.

    Still, watching Fredo''s death scene on the boat was heart-wrenching.

    After filming the final scenes, the crew erupted into apuse, celebrating the project''spletion.

    Arthur addressed his team, "Guys, we deserve to celebrate at the restaurant in Fantasia za!" He gestured to Anubis and his friends. "Anubis and the others will order us free drinks!"

    "Yeah!" the crew cheered.

    Anubis and his mobster friends smiled wryly but acquiesced. "I''ll order the most expensive dishes for everyone!" Anubis dered, with the other bosses promising top-shelf liquor.

    Arthur smiled inwardly. ''This is the perk of having mobs as friends,'' he thought.

    "Arthur, can we talkter?"

    Arthur turned to see Firfel.

    "I have something to discuss about the amulet," she said quietly.

    Arthur nodded. "Of course." Then, with a grin, he added, "But first, we celebrate!"

    Firfel returned his smile and nodded.

    "Master Arthur, can we finally scare other people as a reward?" Diddy approached Arthur eagerly.

    "Yes, but don''t go too far," Arthur conceded. The ghosts celebrated as he added, "Don''t even think of escaping. I''ve honed my ability to pull you back from the ends of the earth. I''ve imprinted on all of you."

    Diddy and the others visibly sweated. "We won''t stray, boss! We''ll return obediently!"

    "Good," Arthur chuckled as the ghosts vanished.

    Firfel watched the exchange, curious. "You''re sure it''s okay to let them go like that?"

    "Hehe, I wasn''t lying about my ability to pull them back. And I really did imprint on them," Arthur giggled.

    Firfel looked astonished. "You''re indeed full of surprises."

    "Haha, am I?" Arthur grinned.

    "Though I kind of feel bad for those ghosts. They''re like unpaid workers for you," Firfel mused.

    "Come on, don''t feel bad," Arthur reassured her. "I think they''ve started to enjoy filming."

    Seeing Firfel''s skepticism, he added, "I also promised to include them in future films. They''re excited about it."

    Firfel smiled. "Hehe, why are you trying so hard to convince me? They''re your ghosts, you shouldn''t care about my feelings."

    Arthur felt a twinge of embarrassment. He quickly turned to the crew and co-stars, leading them towards Fantasia za.

    Fantasia za, owned by the Empirica-based real estate giant Westfield, was a hub of luxury. It housed high-end stores and expensive restaurants, all vying for the attention of the wealthy.

    Arthur had visited several times before, yet the establishment''s design still impressed him. As they walked past luxury boutiques and chic caf¨¦s, a thought crossed his mind.

    ''I wonder if the arcade machine is alreadypleted by Drake, Josh and the others?'' he mused silently.

    Arthur eyed the Fantasia za, considering renting a space. So far, every spot seemed upied by thriving businesses.

    His gaze lingered on the casino section. An idea sparked - perhaps he could rent space there for his arcade machines. It was strategic; casino-goers might stumble upon the video games and y those instead.

    Lost in thought, Arthur and his group arrived at the expensive restaurant.

    Their celebration was frequently interrupted by fans. "Are you Arthur?" one asked.

    "Yeah," Arthur nodded, signing an autograph without much thought.

    Firfel, however, drew the most attention. "Lady Firfel! I''ve watched Demonfather, Lord of the Rings, Lovely Lady, Innocent Angel. Can I have an autograph?"

    "Sure," Firfel smiled graciously.

    Arthur noticed her poprity surpassed his own. Besides their shared projects, she had other works. He, on the other hand, was often the media''s favorite antagonist. People admired his films, but not necessarily him.

    Yet, Arthur found he didn''t care much about fame.

    After the celebration, Firfel pulled Arthur aside. "This amulet is strange. It''s somehow unlocked a healing effect," she said. "Did you do something to unlock such a function?"

    Arthur replied smoothly, "It was always the amulet''s function. After the curse was removed, the amulet unlocked it." Inwardly, he was surprised by this development.

    Firfel nodded, describing more features she''d discovered - dream control when the amulet was near her while sleeping, a calming effect when she was nervous.

    Arthur listened, nodding, while secretly yearning to borrow the amulet again to explore these new functions.

    ***

    The next day, Arthur visited theputer research facility. The "Arcade Machine" project wasplete, with four prototypes produced. They already featured several video games Arthur had instructed them to program.

    "Which games have you yed the most?" Arthur inquired.

    Drake smiled. "I yed Space Invader, but the others prefer Ping Pong."

    After discussing the project further, Arthur left the secret warehouse, his mind buzzing with possibilities.

    With the arcade machinesplete and loaded with several video games, Arthur was ready to introduce this new form of entertainment to the world. His next step: securing a prime location in Fantasia za.

    Arthur arranged a meeting with the za''s general manager, a human named Delvin Smile. The GM''s secretary promptly confirmed the appointment.

    The following day, Arthur entered Delvin''s office. The general manager didn''t bother to stand, greeting Arthur with indifference. "I heard you want to meet with me?"

    Arthur nodded, "Yeah."

    "What do you want? My time is precious," Delvin said curtly.

    Unfazed by the cold treatment, Arthur stated his purpose. "I''m nning to rent space in the casino section of Fantasia za."

    Delvin frowned. "That''s it?"

    Arthur nodded again.

    Delvin sighed, "I''m sorry, but several casinopanies have the whole section rented out. It''s called the ''Casino Section'' for a reason."

    "That''s why I wanted to meet you," Arthur smiled. "I heard White Casino''s lease is about to expire? I''d be happy to fill that spot."

    Delvin shook his head. "White Casino is a loyal tenant. We''re already in talks for renewal."

    "Come on, I''m willing to pay double," Arthur pressed, well aware of the valuable foot traffic in Fantasia za.

    Curiosity piqued, Delvin asked, "What do you need the space for anyway? Is it for a film project?"

    "No, it''s for my gaming machines," Arthur replied with a smile.

    "Gaming... machines?" Delvin echoed, assuming, "Are they gambling devices?"

    "Something like that," Arthur chuckled, not quite ready to reveal the full nature of his arcade machines.

    Delvin considered for a moment before shaking his head. "Sorry, but I can''t risk our loyal tenant for someone with unclear intentions for the area."

    As Delvin''s words hung in the air, Arthur realized he''d have to change tactics. The general manager clearly valued loyalty and certainty over potential profits.

    Perhaps a demonstration of the arcade machines would be necessary to sway Delvin''s opinion.

    "What if I could show you exactly what these machines can do?" Arthur proposed, a new n forming in his mind. "I think you''ll find they offer something unique that could draw even more visitors to Fantasia za."

    Delvin showed no interest in learning about the "gaming machine," firmly shaking his head.

    Despite Arthur''s continued attempts to persuade him, Delvin remained rooted in his stance.

    Arthur shook his head, feeling a twinge of pity. He understood Delvin''s desire to keep a loyal tenant, but it was a missed opportunity. Fantasia za could have been the birthce of video games in this world.

    He didn''t want to force the issue with an arrogant general manager. Clearly, Delvin''s position at Fantasia za, owned by the powerful Westfield real estatepany, had gone to his head. He wasn''t open to potential new business ventures.

    ''I guess it''s time for n B,'' Arthur thought to himself.

    He''d already prepared for the possibility of Fantasia za''s rejection. The alternative: Hellscape Center.

    While not as popr as Fantasia za, Hellscape Center could serve as a decent substitute.

    While the Hellscape Center appeared to be thriving, the property firm that owned it was struggling with bankruptcy.

    Although Arthur was initially hesitant to venture into real estate or property businesses, he began to consider acquiring thepany solely to implement his n for introducing video technology.

 Chapter 129: Arcade Machines

    <h4>Chapter 129: Arcade Machines</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    In the Dominion Estate Headquarters CEO office, demon imp Donald ck faced the infamous ex-prince, Arthur Morningstar.

    "You want to buy mypany?" Donald said quietly, attempting to project an intimidating aura despite his diminutive stature. The effect was moreical than menacing to Arthur.

    "Yes. I''m willing to buy your property firm for 220 thousand dors," Arthur stated matter-of-factly.

    Donald''s expression darkened. "220? No, I think mypany is worth 500!"

    Arthur sneered, "500? Get real. Your property firm is in the red. No one wants it, and if you keep running it, you''ll only sink deeper into debt. You won''t even break even; you''ll be in the negative."

    Donald visibly struggled, realizing Arthur wasn''t as naive as he''d initially thought. "Okay, how about 450?"

    Arthur shook his head firmly. "No can do."

    "Come on," Donald pressed, "Dominion Estates has two hotels and one mall, Hellscape Center. Even if we''re struggling, those establishments are doing fine¡ª"

    "Doing fine?" Arthur cut him off. "I don''t think so. Your properties have maintenance issues, they''re in poor condition. Tenants areining, profits are declining, and businesses are leaving for that new mall in town or Fantasia za."

    Donald sweated, hisposure crumbling. "How about 350? That''s the lowest I can go¡ª"

    Arthur stood up, feigning to leave. "Alright... I guess I won''t be buying a property firm anytime soon¡ª"

    Donald panicked, practically leaping from his chair. "Okay, how about 250?"

    Arthur paused, a faint smile ying on his lips. "220," he said, unmoved.

    "240?" Donald''s ''intimidating'' act hadpletely dissolved, his face a mask of desperation.

    "220." Arthur didn''t flinch at the counter-offer.

    The tension in the room was palpable. Donald''s eyes darted between Arthur and the door, weighing his options. He knew hispany was in dire straits, but pride made it hard to ept Arthur''s offer.

    Arthur, for his part, maintained his calm demeanor. He''d done his homework on Dominion Estates and knew exactly how much leverage he had. The properties might be struggling now, but with the right management - and the introduction of his arcade machines - he could turn things around.

    "Okay, this is really thest offer. If you don''t ept, you can leave," Donald said seriously. "235, that''s the lowest I can go."

    Arthur looked thoughtful, then pulled a coin from his pocket. "How about we toss a coin?"

    Donald flinched. "You want to gamble?"

    Arthur chuckled. "Not quite. If it''s heads or tails, depending on which side we choose, we''ll go with either 220 or 235. Whoever wins, that''s the price we agree on."

    Donald''s interest piqued. "So if I choose tails and win, you''ll buy thepany for 235?"

    Arthur nodded. "Yes. It''s that simple."

    Donald gritted his teeth. "Alright, let''s do it."

    "Head or tails?" Arthur asked.

    "Tails," Donald decided after a moment''s thought.

    "Okay, I''m heads," Arthur nodded and tossed the coin. He employed a subtle trick, facing the ''heads'' side up when tossing to increase his chances of winning.

    After all, the 50/50 chance in coin tosses was a myth. In reality, the odds slightly favor the side facing up when tossed, due to the coin''s center of mass.

    The coinnded on Donald''s desk. They both leaned in to see the result...

    "Yes!" Donald jumped in triumph.

    Tails.

    Arthur shook his head. ''Must be an off day for my luck.''

    "So you''ll buy mypany for 235?" Donald asked, grinning.

    Arthur nodded. "Yes."

    Donaldughed. "Alright, let''s discuss the procedure, hehe."

    ***

    The transfer of Dominion Estate to Arthur, which typically would have taken weeks or even months, waspleted in just two weeks. Horn Kingdom politicians favored Arthur''s takeover, expediting the process.

    Arthur felt grateful. In Morningstar, this would have dragged on for much longer.

    With ownership secured, Arthur turned his focus to addressing the declining state of the two hotels and the mall. He knew he had his work cut out for him, but the potential rewards - especially with the introduction of his arcade machines - made it all worthwhile.

    As Arthur surveyed his new properties, his mind raced with ns. The hotels could be renovated to attract a new clientele, while the mall - Hellscape Center - would be the perfect venue to introduce video games to this world.

    Despite losing the coin toss and paying slightly more than he''d intended, Arthur couldn''t help but feel satisfied.

    While addressing the hotels'' and mall''s issues, Arthur turned his attention to promotion. His ace in the hole: James ze, now a household name throughout Horn Kingdom.

    An event featuring James at Hellscape Center would draw crowds in droves.

    As renovations on Hellscape Center progressed, Arthur selected a prime location to showcase his video game arcades.

    In the short span of two weeks, Arthur''sputer research team had doubled their output, increasing the original four arcade machines to eight.

    "We''ll set them up here, boss?" A behemoth demon asked, hefting an arcade machine.

    "Yes," Arthur nodded, pointing. "They need to be highly visible to passersby."

    As the behemoths positioned the machines, curious onlookers began to gather.

    "Look, isn''t that Arthur Morningstar?"

    "You don''t say. Yeah, he looks like Arthur..."

    "Maybe it''s just a lookalike."

    "No, it''s definitely Arthur!"

    Their chatter caught Arthur''s attention, but he remained focused on the task at hand.

    "What are those devices the behemoths are cing?" One bystander wondered aloud.

    The crowd''s curiosity grew. "I don''t know, but they look interesting."

    Indeed, the arcade machines were eye-catching. Their cabs boasted vibrant, thematic artwork. The screens glowed invitingly, and the control panels gleamed with colorful buttons and joysticks.

    As Arthur departed with the behemoth demons, curious onlookers approached the mysterious arcade machines.

    Stickers on the cabs instructed users to "Insert a coin and get surprised!"

    A dwarf, stroking his beard thoughtfully, pulled out a precious coin. "Alright, let''s see what this is about..."

    He inserted the coin while others watched intently. The screen flickered to life, startling everyone.

    "What should I do now..." the dwarf muttered.

    Text appeared on the screen: "You can control the arcade machine through the controller and choose games."

    The dwarf and onlookers leaned in, fascinated. The screen disyed instructions that corresponded to the controller''syout. Gingerly, the dwarf grasped the controller.

    He pressed a button, and a list materialized:

    =Space Machine=

    =Ping Pong=

    =Tetris=

    The left side of the screen provided control instructions. The dwarf, quick to learn as his race was known for, navigated the menu using the arrow buttons.

    Unknowingly, he was providing a tutorial for the watching demons and elves, who were slower to grasp the concept.

    The dwarf selected "Tetris." As he hit enter, the program sprang to life.

    To everyone''s astonishment, simple animations of colored blocks in various shapes began to fall from the top of the screen.

    "What''s this?" the dwarf wondered aloud.

    Being clever, he quickly grasped the game''s mechanics from the introductory instructions. Soon, he was rotating and cing blocks, his fingers dancing across the controls.

    The onlookers watched, mesmerized, as the dwarf cleared line after line. The simple yet addictive nature of the game was apparent even to those who didn''t fully understand it yet.

    Within the hour, all eight arcade machines were buzzing with activity. The initial confusion gave way to excitement as patrons quickly grasped the concept of these novel devices.

    An old demon fiend, engrossed in a game of "Ping Pong," reminisced about his younger days. "I never thought such a device could exist," he muttered, recalling the Magical Ping Pong Tournaments he''d yed against humans in his youth.

    Though the pixted representation barely captured the feeling of a real match, it stirred a pleasant nostalgia in him.

    From a distance, Arthur observed the scene with a satisfied smile. His decision to let the mall-goers discover the arcade machines on their own had proven wise.

    Initially, he''d harbored doubts about this hands-off approach. But watching the growing crowd, their faces lit with fascination, he knew he''d made the right choice.

 Chapter 130: Part 2: Bro is speed running

    <h4>Chapter 130: Part 2: Bro is speed running</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    While arcade machines captivated Hellscape Center''s customers, Arthur greeted a diverse group of international studio representatives.

    Some were familiar faces - partners who had distributed his films globally, like Bryan Brothers, Lava Brothers, and Western Studio. Others were new acquaintances.

    A demon from Bharat Kingdom resembled a genie with legs and feet, looking almostically like a popo. A half-demon, half-elf from Choson Dynasty sported pointed ears. Demons from South East Anatolia mingled with average-looking humans from Empirica and Evros, alongside elves and dwarves from the Eden region.

    Arthur ushered them into a private theater. After the screening, apuse erupted.

    "Amazing!"

    "What an incredible film!"

    Arthur smiled, graciously epting their praise.

    ***

    As days passed, September 15, 1272 arrived. Dragon Ball, released just over a month ago, had taken Horn City by storm. Hundreds of thousands were now engrossed in its pages.

    Newspapers and entertainment magazines couldn''t ignore the phenomenon:

    "New Manhua: Dragon Ball Takes the City by Storm!"

    "Is Arthur Morningstar truly a pure demon? Experts believe he might have traces of elf and dwarf blood, exining his creativity despite his magical weakness. Histest manhua, Dragon Ball, seems to suggest that Arthur may not be a pure demon after all!"

    Ridiculous ims proliferated, but they only served to fuel Dragon Ball''s poprity.

    Meanwhile, Maya Yamato from Japon, owner of Shounen Manga, made a special trip to meet Arthur.

    Dragon Ball had amazed Maya ever since her son Ichiro introduced it to her. She hoped to distribute the manga in Japon, but there was a problem - herpany was struggling, losing ground to other manga publishers.

    Doubting Arthur would take her seriously, Maya was surprised by his respectful wee and attentive ear to her proposal.

    "I can''t offer much, but... I''ll do my best to publish your manga in many Japon cities!" Maya eximed, her voice tinged with desperation and hope.

    Arthur smiled. He''d reached out to Japon manga publishers before, but they''d rejected him outright, not even ncing at Dragon Ball. He suspected discrimination due to his Morningstar heritage.

    Now, a manga publisher hade to him, eager to bring Dragon Ball to her kingdom. Despite the low offer, Arthur didn''t hesitate. "Okay, I''ll have my manga published by yourpany."

    "Really!?" Maya''s surprise was evident. She''d expected rejection.

    Arthur nodded. "Yes. In fact, I''m willing to invest in yourpany to ensure Dragon Ball''s production and increase supply in case it bes sessful there."

    Touched, Maya''s eyes welled up. She bowed so low it startled Arthur. "Thank you very much!"

    Arthur smiled, helping her up. "Hey, no need to bow." He shook his head, amused. "Seriously, you Japonese... Why do you bow so much?"

    Maya, ovee with gratitude, bowed even lower. "Thank you!"

    "Okay, okay!" Arthur chuckled wryly. "Jeez, let''s just go and discuss the procedure."

    Maya''s emotions intensified as Arthur revealed his willingness to invest substantially in herpany for a mere 3 percent share. This generosity moved her to bow repeatedly, though Arthur gently discouraged it this time.

    ***

    While Arthur made inroads into the Japon manga industry through Maya, the arcade machines at Hellscape Center gained poprity among thousands.

    In just a few days, the machines attracted significant foot traffic to the mall.

    James ze''s event at Hellscape Center further amplified this trend. Thousands of demons flooded the mall, creating a tight squeeze that threatened to overwhelm the space. Only the diligent efforts of security prevented chaos.

    The event cemented Hellscape Center''s growing reputation.

    Simultaneously, promotion for "Demonfather Part 2" began across Horn City, Morningstar, Thorn, Bharat, Empirica, parts of South Anatolia, Evros, and the Eden region.

    Media outlets buzzed with anticipation for the Demonfather sequel.

    In a caf¨¦, demons discussed the uing film:

    "I can''t wait for Demonfather Part 2!"

    "Yeah! The first Demonfather was amazing! I wonder if the sequel will be as good?"

    An imp demon added hopefully, "I hope it will be good."

    "It will be," a monkey demon assured. "Just don''t listen to the media. They always like to bully Arthur just because he''s a weak royal prince."

    "I agree with you, we shouldn''t judge Arthur based on the unreliable media these days," a bull demon said, sipping his coffee. "While Arthur may not be as powerful as his brother, he''s certainly talented in entertainment."

    "True," another demon friend nodded. "Though I wonder how the first prince of the Morningstar Kingdom is faring."

    A panda demon chimed in, "Last I heard, he was sent to the prison realm to guard the gate. Supposedly keeps dangerous demons from escaping."

    "Haha,e on. You still believe in the prison realm? It''s a myth!" one scoffed.

    "Then where is the first prince, huh?"

    "Probably abroad, studying and living it up."

    "But no one''s spotted him anywhere. I really think he''s in another realm."

    "Haha, we haven''t been able to travel to other realms for ages. We''ve even lost portal travel. Only the powerful and influential can use it now."

    Many believed the "Prison Realm" was just a myth.

    Four hundred years ago, after the demons lost the war, it was said that humans couldn''t kill some demons, so they locked the dangerous ones in the "Prison Realm" - known in the western world as "Nether Realm".

    Rumor had it that first prince Azazel Morningstar was sent to the Nether Realm to be its warden and oversee the gate.

    Whether this was true or not remained a mystery to both demons and humans.

    ***

    Around the world, millions eagerly awaited "Demonfather Part 2".

    Whether the media or rival studios liked it or not, Arthur''s first work, "Demonfather", had revolutionized the picture industry. Not just as the first colored film, but for its thrilling, edge-of-your-seat storytelling.

    Even in kingdoms where the first film hadn''t been screened, many had seen it through store-bought copies. Now, with the sequel''s imminent release, those who''d missed the original rushed to buy it. Distributors lowered prices to boost sales before the sequel''s premiere.

    In the Bharat Kingdom, neighboring Morningstar, demand for the first film in developed cities quickly outstripped supply. Distributors ramped up production to meet the surge.

    Arthur''s profits soared, earning him about 3 million dors in just a week since promotion began.

    The hype reached fever pitch as "Demonfather Part 2" premiered in Horn, Morningstar, Thorn, Japon, and Choson Dynasty two weeks after promotions started.

    Media outlets, abandoning their smear campaign, now praised the film sight unseen. "Experts believe Demonfather sequel will be a masterpiece like the first!" trumpeted newspaper headlines.

    Media moguls hoped inted expectations might lead to disappointment, tarnishing Arthur''s reputation if the film fell short.

    The first day''s box office of 36 million dors didn''t surprise them. They patiently waited for a plummet.

    Instead, the second day saw 42 million, the third a whopping 55 million. Even with a slight dip to 49 million on the fourth day, profits continued to soar.

    Unexpectedly, the media found itself praised for its "urate" predictions.

    "Didn''t expect the media was right. The Demonfather Part 2 was a masterpiece!" eximed a demon leaving the theater with friends.

    "True. I can''t believe Michael could be so cold. He''s terrifying!" His friend nodded.

    "Damn that Michael! He''s one scary demon. He''s the only one I''d never dare offend!" Another added.

    "Do you think Arthur really wants to rece his father as king and rule Morningstar like Michael Corleone?" One said, a chill running down his spine.

    "Dude, it''s just a movie. Besides, there''s no way Arthur could overthrow his father!"

    "True."

    "Demonfather Part 2" stirred a whirlwind of emotions across the world.

    In Empirica, Aztec, and Kanata on the Empirica Continent, people began romanticizing mob life.

    In Apple City, Empirica, a group of thugs fresh from watching "Demonfather Part 2" donned suits like Michael''s. Their leader, Manny, embraced Michael Corleone''s persona.

    When one thug betrayed Manny, the others watched as their boss held the traitor affectionately, saying, "I know it was you, Buttcake. You broke my heart!"

    "I... I''m sorry boss!!!" Buttcake wailed, imagining a Michael-esque fate awaiting him.

    At the prestigious Harvard magic high school, a student president dered in a meeting, "My father taught me many things here¡ªhe taught me in this room. He taught me¡ªkeep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

    "Umm... President, didn''t your father die before you were born?"

    Michael''s lines permeated various cultures. In Japon, a Yakuza boss told his group, "If anything in this life is certain, if history has taught us anything, it''s that you can kill anybody."

    His subordinates exchanged terrified nces.

    The film''s impact extended far beyond entertainment, influencing behavior and speech across diverse societies.

 Chapter 131: Ghosts in trouble!

    <h4>Chapter 131: Ghosts in trouble!</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    It''s mind-blowing how fast "Demonfather 2" umted 180 million dors in just four days!

    Fuck, it even surpassed the box office ofmercial films from my previous life!

    And that''s with tickets selling for 2 dors here,pared to 12 or so in my old world. Surpassing 100 million in four days was rare even there.

    I guess it makes sense - people here have limited entertainment options. Films, radio, music, and newspapers are their main pastimes. Spending 2 dors on a film doesn''t seem like much to them.

    Plus, the theatre infrastructure here is surprisingly well-developed for its time. Cities have multiple theatres with hundreds to thousands of seats each.

    Even before "The Demonfather" introduced colored films, popr actors'' movies were making 100 thousand or more in nations like Morningstar or Bharat Kingdom.

    It''s thanks to the thousands of theatres established by major studios inrge nations like Morningstar, Bharat, Empirica, and others. People here are used to watching films for entertainment, which further boosted theatre infrastructure.

    Ironically, those studios trying to bring me down actually paved the way for my sess. Without their established distributionworks, umting millions would''ve been impossible.

    {Creator''s Realms}

    Thanks to them, I received the system reward yesterday when the film hit the 100 million mark.

    I also got a reward for my fifth film surpassing 100 million box office - a new magic element, {Sin Magic}.

    Nothing too impressive, it''s the same magical element my siblings have. But I can see my proficiency in it improving.

    I tried using {Creator''s Realms} yesterday, but it needs about 3 million magical power to activate. A pain, but not impossible. I just need to upgrade the {Devourer Ring} to level 4.

    The catch? It costs 50 million points to upgrade. I''m at 38 million now, so I just need to wait a week to hit 50 million entertainment points.

    At level 4, the ring will have a 10 million magical power storage. umting that won''t be a problem. I''ll use the portal to visit the Moonlight Kingdom, or maybe the Gloomstone Forest, and suck the mana dry before making a quick exit.

    Then I can use the ring to activate {Creator''s Realms}. Simple enough. Just need patience.

    And I''m not in a rush, especially with "Dragon Ball" gaining poprity not just in Horn Kingdom, but also Morningstar, Choson Dynasty, and Japon. I''ve been using my free time to draw volume 2.

    I bought a skill from the shop to make my hands more flexible and draw faster. Cost me 500 thousand Entertainment points, but worth it.

    Hourster, one Chapter was done.

    These past weeks, after wrapping up "Demonfather Part 2" filming, I''ve beenser-focused on "Dragon Ball." I''m already approachingpletion of volume 2.

    A dayter, I finished the drawing and submitted volume 2 for mass production.

    Soon, Horn City Dragon Ball fans will get their hands on volume 2. Then it''ll hit Morningstar, Thorn, Choson, and Japon.

    In Japon, Shounen Manga was saved from bankruptcy thanks to Dragon Ball.

    I''ve also started talks with Empiricanic publishers to bring Dragon Ball to their market.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Diddy, Puffy, Daddy, and the other ghosts were having a field day scaring people around.

    Demons proved disappointing targets, treating the ghosts like annoying children rather than fearsome specters. Dwarves, with theirck of emotional intelligence and excess of regr intelligence, were equally unimpressed.

    So the ghosts turned their attention to elves and, especially, humans.

    Humans were by far the most entertaining to scare.

    "Shit, I knew I shouldn''t havee to the demon realm! There are ghosts here!" One human shrieked, much to the ghosts'' delight.

    Diddy and the others giggled mischievously.

    They''d been enjoying themselves for weeks, determined to make the most of their freedom before Arthur inevitably called them back to work.

    Strangely, they''d been feeling more energetic since Arthur had taken them on as employees. They couldn''t quite exin it.

    As the ghosts continued their pranks on unsuspecting humans, their luck took a turn for the worse. They unwittingly targeted a Srus bishop.

    Diddy and the others found themselves paralyzed with fear as the bishop prepared to unleash a famous Holy Magic spell.

    "You ghosts won''t escape!" The bishop roared, his anger palpable.

    "No!" Diddy eximed in terror.

    "Run!" Puffy yelled to the others.

    They managed to flee, but not before Diddy sustained a serious injury. The bishop gave chase, but the ghosts'' speed proved superior.

    "Hmph. Lucky," the bishop muttered disdainfully as the ghosts disappeared from view.

    As they fled, the ghosts realized they might have pushed their luck too far. The encounter with the bishop was a stark reminder of the dangers that still existed for them, even in their spectral forms.

    ***

    Arthur asionally nced at his system entertainment points. After just a day, they''d reached 41 million. Once Dragon Ball volume 2 hit stores in Horn City in a few days, that number would climb even higher.

    Meanwhile, a giantpany called "HOLLOW" had begun selling televisions. This normally wouldn''t have caught Arthur''s attention, but HOLLOW, a dwarf-based electronicspany worth billions, had partnered with the USE human-based "Waves Corporation".

    Waves Corporation had sessfully developed signal towers not just in Horn Kingdom, but also in Empirica, parts of Evros, and the Eden region.

    Arthur could see the "Era of TV" approaching, and with it, an opportunity to create a TV program called "Hellfire Got Talent". He envisioned hiring Horn''s popr and veteran singers as judges.

    Waves Corporation was open for business, selling signal towers or offering assistance in building them. Arthur considered the potential of a "Hellfire Channel".

    Most of the world had yet to grasp TV''s full potential. Many studios were reluctant to risk investing in TV and signal towers. Even governments, barring USE and dwarven kingdoms, hadn''t establishedws and regtions for TV and signals.

    The rest of the world underestimated TV''s impact.

    Newspapers, feeling threatened, attempted to mock the new technology. "Who needs a TV when we have theaters to watch films on wide,rge projections?" proimed one major Empirican newspaper.

    More newspapers worldwide expressed their disdain for TV, publishing negative press about HOLLOW and Waves Corporation, despite these being multi-billion dorpanies.

    Even magazines, with their colorful pages, expressed negative views on television.

    Radio wasn''t fond of TV either. One famous radio host dered, "What''s the need for TV? We have newspapers, magazines, and films! VFX-heavy films are the future! TV is just a waste of electricity!"

    The public, constantly hearing criticism of television, adopted a simr stance.

    But not Arthur.

    He recognized TV''s potential to revolutionize entertainment and information dissemination. While others hesitated, he saw an opportunity to get ahead of the curve. With his experience from his previous life, he knew the impact TV could have.

    In fact, after contacting "HOLLOW" and "Waves Corporation", Arthur found their higher-ups eager to meet him. They seemed to respect his influence and wanted his support for TV, signal towers, and the concept of "channels".

    As Arthur pondered this in his office, he suddenly frowned. The ghosts, Diddy and the others, passed through his office walls.

    "Boss, help! Diddy and the others are injured!" Puffy eximed.

    "Nani?" Arthur stood up, surprised.

 Chapter 132: Creatorâ€™s Realms and win the Budokai?

    <h4>Chapter 132: Creator''s Realms and win the Budokai?</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I didn''t think these ghosts would get into trouble.

    ording to Puffy and the others who escaped unscathed, they''d encountered a powerful member of the Srus Church.

    Looking at Diddy and the few who were injured, I saw their already transparent appearance had dimmed further.

    "What do we do, boss? They''re disappearing!" Puffy said fearfully.

    I shook my head. I didn''t think I''d be using this magic so soon.

    "No worries, guys. They''ll be fine," I said.

    Puffy and the others still looked afraid, seemingly doubting my words.

    With a thought, I activated {Rose Magic}. My palm suddenly exuded a rosy colour, which I directed towards Diddy and the others.

    Rose petals drifted towards the ghosts, eliciting surprised expressions.

    "This..." Diddy and the others realized they were gradually healing. Their ghostly essence returned to normal.

    "Wow!" Puffy eximed.

    In just seconds, Diddy and the others were fully healed.

    "This is amazing!" Diddy eximed.

    I''d used about five thousand magical power, so I immediately stopped. It was tiring.

    "You guys are okay now," I said.

    "You''re amazing, boss!" Daddy eximed in astonishment.

    "Yeah, that was cool!" The others murmured.

    Diddy said, relief evident in his tone, "I thought I was about to die for a second time!"

    They looked at me with amazement before I admonished, "You guys should stop getting into trouble. You almost died a second time!"

    "We won''t misbehave anymore, boss!" The ghosts said in unison.

    "Alright, go rest and stop pranking people for now." I waved my hands. The ghosts, still grateful, thanked me, but I shooed them away and they left.

    I shook my head. Seriously.

    I hadn''t expected those ghosts to get into trouble, let alone encounter a powerful Srus member. They were lucky I could help.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Dragon Ball''s volume 2 hit select stores in Horn City, selling out within hours of its release. Its poprity immediately contributed to Arthur''s entertainment system points.

    Two days prior, "Dragon Ball" had debuted in Empirica, gaining instant poprity. Within 48 hours, stores were struggling to keep it in stock.

    The manga brought a novel experience to Empirican readers, who were already moring for volume 2.

    In his office, Arthur''s entertainment points finally reached 69 million.

    ''With Dragon Ball''s huge sess, it''s time to level up the ring and activate the Creator''s Realms,'' Arthur thought.

    Without hesitation, he purchased the upgrade for the {Devourer Ring}, increasing its storage to 10 million magical points.

    Arthur felt the ring''s enhanced power on his finger. It was an incredible sensation, unlike anything he''d experienced before.

    The ring currently held only 1 million magical power, leaving 9 million to collect.

    Arthur entered the secret room in his office, revealed by pushing the dummy book titled "48 Laws of Power" on his bookshelf.

    Inside, he approached the portal stone. Using it, he was transported to the Gloomstone Forest.

    As the portal appeared, Arthur stepped through. The journey was disorienting, as always, but he''d grown ustomed to it.

    Soon, Arthur found himself in the Gloomstone Forest, where his elephants were under the care of the orc tribe. He asionally visited secretly to check on them, but today''s mission was different.

    With a thought, Arthur activated the Abyssal Mode of the Devourer Ring.

    It quickly began absorbing all magical power in the area. Arthur had anticipated the forest beings would faint, but he hadn''t expected the effect to reach the nearby viges and even therge Gloomstone Town.

    "I feel tired," a demon mutteredzily, gazing at the clouds.

    Forest creatures - magical monsters, trolls, goblins - all sumbed to slumber.

    Arthur immediately deactivated Abyssal Mode as the ring hit 10 million magical power in just a minute.

    Ready to return to Horn Kingdom, he found the portal stone dimmed. "It seems affected by the absorption too..." Arthur muttered.

    After a few anxious minutes, the stone returned to normal. Arthur quickly activated it and fled the forest.

    ***

    Back in his office, Arthur sighed with relief at his swift sess.

    He used 3 million magical power points, leaving the ring''s storage at negative 3 million.

    Before he could reflect further, Arthur found himself transported to a world of pure whiteness.

    He looked around in astonishment.

    "Wow..." Arthur said, awestruck.

    A panel materialized before Arthur.

    {Wee to the Creator''s Realms}

    <strong>[You can travel to any fictional world, provided it''s your own creation and a sessful fiction in your reality.]</strong>

    <strong>[Do you want to travel to your fictional world now orter? (The magical power used to activate Creator''s Realms will be saved)]</strong>

    <strong>[Yes.]</strong>

    <strong>[No.]</strong>

    Without hesitation, Arthur selected yes.

    The panel shifted. <strong>[Based on our analysis, you can travel to eight worlds from your sessful fictions:]</strong>

    <strong>[Demonfather] /[Godfather (Original)]</strong>

    <strong>[Lord of the Rings]</strong>

    <strong>[The Good, The Bad and The Ugly]</strong>

    <strong>[Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon]</strong>

    <strong>[Harry Potter (your version)]/[Harry Potter (Original)]</strong>

    <strong>[Dragon Ball]</strong>

    Arthur raised an eyebrow at the two versions listed, finding it intriguing.

    He chose Dragon Ball without much deliberation.

    The interface transformed into a main menu:

    <strong>[New World]</strong>

    <strong>[Save]</strong>

    <strong>[Load]</strong>

    <strong>[Options]</strong>

    "Interesting..." Arthur mused, stroking his chin. He explored the options, discovering he could select his preferrednguage, attire, and hairstyle.

    After customizing his appearance, Arthur returned to the main menu. The ''Save'' and ''Load'' options were empty.

    "What''s this for?" he wondered aloud. A new panel appeared, offering an exnation.

    Arthur read it out, "You can save your progress in the fiction world. If you load the save file, you will return to the world as if you hadn''t left at all." He nodded appreciatively. "Very useful."

    With that, Arthur tapped "New World". A wave of disorientation hit him, far more intense than any portal travel he''d experienced.

    ***

    Arthur awoke, shaking his head to clear the disorientation. He found himself in a lush forest under a vivid blue sky dotted with picturesque clouds.

    "Am I finally in the Dragon Ball world?" he muttered to himself.

    A system notification shed before his eyes:

    <strong>[System Mission: Legend of the Tenkaichi Budokai!]</strong>

    <strong>[The Tenkaichi Budokai, the greatest martial arts tournament in history, is about to begin. As a hidden warrior from another world, you must enter and win the 21st Tenkaichi Budokai using only your martial arts skills¡ªno magic allowed.]</strong>

    "21st Tenkaichi Budokai?" Arthur''s interest piqued. "So I''m at the beginning of the Dragon Ball story..."

    He stood up, a smile spreading across his face. With a thought, wings sprouted from his back, and he took to the sky.

    Here, he could do everything he wanted without caution. Unlike his world, where powerful and potentially divine beings lurked in the shadows, Arthur knew they of thend in this realm.

    This was his chance to unleash his true power, honed through months of hard work. No need to hold back or hide his abilities.

    Arthur descended upon a nearby city, his wings drawing immediate attention from the civilians below.

    "Woah! Look, a person has wings!" eximed onlookers, their voices a mix of awe and surprise.

    The crowd on the streets buzzed with excited murmurs.

    "Mommy, can I fly like that handsome man too?" a young girl asked, tugging at her mother''s sleeve. The woman hastily pulled her daughter away as Arthur glided down towards them.

    Landing softly, Arthur nced around. "It feels different here..."

    A chubby man approached him, seemingly unafraid. "Hey there! First time I''ve seen someone flying! How''d you get wings on your back?"

    Arthur, recognizing the man as a typical Dragon Ball background character, decided to focus on his goal. "Hey, do you know where the Tenkaichi Budokai is being held?"

    "Tenkaichi Budokai?" The man pondered for a moment. "I believe it''s on Papaya Ind, about that way." He pointed in a specific direction.

    Arthur shed a grateful smile. "Thanks!" With that, he took to the skies once more, heading towards Papaya Ind.

    As he soared away, Arthur couldn''t help but marvel at the simplicity of this world. The people''s easy eptance of his supernatural abilities, their willingness to help - it was refreshingly different from theplexities of his own reality. Yet, he knew better than to underestimate this world. The uing tournament would surely test his limits, magic or no magic.

 Chapter 133: Elimination Round

    <h4>Chapter 133: Elimination Round</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Arthur''s wings had been pping for fifteen minutes, yet Papaya Ind remained elusive. He found himself still soaring over the city, passing buildings and floating vehicles. Onlookers pointed skyward, their faces a mix of awe and curiosity.

    The stares didn''t faze Arthur. He''d grown ustomed to being the center of attention, though in the past, those looks had been tinged with disdain rather than wonder.

    "Sigh, I might as well have a rest," he muttered, shaking his head.

    He''d overestimated his wings'' endurance. After a mere quarter-hour of flight, fatigue set in, slowing his aerial progress. As he descended, his wings retracted, and he found himself walking down a bustling street.

    ''Maybe I should just book a flight,'' Arthur thought, but his musings were cut short as he spotted a young woman about to be struck by an oing truck.

    Without hesitation, he activated {Nether Surge}, enhancing his physique. In a sh, he was at her side, whisking her to safety on the sidewalk.

    "Hey, you alright-" Arthur began, only to realize the woman he''d rescued was none other than a young Bulma.

    Bulma stared at him, her face flushed. "Thank-"

    Before she could finish, a voice boomed, "Hey, who the hell are you!?"

    Curious, they turned to see a man with disheveled hair, his finger usingly pointed at Arthur.

    Bulma, indignant, retorted, "And who the hell are you, huh? How dare you point your nasty finger at such a handsome man!?"

    The man''s face fell, hurt evident in his voice, "Bu-bulma! Can''t you recognize me?"

    "Who are you!?" Bulma pouted, clearly not recognizing him.

    "I''m Yamcha!" The man dered, his voice a mix of desperation and disbelief.

    "Ya-yamcha!? Is that you?" Bulma''s eyes widened in surprise.

    "Yeah, babe." Yamcha grinned, shing a smile that revealed a missing tooth. "It''s me. I was about to save you when that guy interrupted!" He jabbed a finger towards Arthur.

    Bulma and Yamcha turned to Arthur. Bulma''s cheeks remained flushed, which only fueled Yamcha''s anger.

    "Yamcha, don''t be so rude! He just saved me..." Bulma chided softly. She bowed to Arthur, "Thank you for saving me."

    She nudged Yamcha, adding, "Don''t mind Yamcha, my boyfriend''s just jealous."

    Arthur regarded the couple before him with mild amusement. "Oh, so this middle-aged man is your boyfriend?"

    "What did you say!?" Yamcha bellowed, fists clenching.

    Bulma pushed him back, turning to Arthur with a coy smile. "Bo-boyfriend? Did I say that?"

    "Hey- are you denying our rtionship now?" Yamcha looked crestfallen, tears welling in his eyes.

    Puar, floating nearby, patted Yamcha''s shoulder consolingly.

    Arthur smiled at the scene unfolding before him.

    "Hey, since you saved me, how about you join us for a meal at my house?" Bulma offered shyly.

    Yamcha''s re could have melted steel.

    "Nah." Arthur shook his head, "Just consider my saving you a favor to be repaid when I need help in the future."

    Bulma, persistent, tried again to convince Arthur. "Come on, you just saved my precious life! You deserve to be treated to something!" A blush crept across her cheeks.

    Arthur paused, ncing at Yamcha, who resembled a jealous dog watching its owner eye a potential recement. But Arthur''s hesitation stemmed from a different concern. Despite knowing the Dragon Ball story, he realized he had no grasp of this world''s geography or currency. Even if he could locate Papaya Ind, checking into a hotel would prove challenging without local money.

    Looking at Bulma''s eager face, Arthur sighed, "Alright. I''ll agree to a meal."

    "Damn it!" Yamcha muttered through gritted teeth.

    "Oh, shut it!" Bulma snapped, her annoyance palpable. "You still owe me! I''ve been calling you for weeks, and you wouldn''t answer! I thought you''d ditched me!"

    "You know I wouldn''t do that, Bulma!" Yamcha pleaded, scrambling to exin.

    Puar and Oolong, observing from the sidelines, merely shrugged at the couple''s bickering.

    Arthur silently followed the group. Though Bulma''s anger at Yamcha was evident, he could see her underlying relief at his return. Puar, too, seemed overjoyed at Yamcha''s presence.

    Drawing on his knowledge of the Dragon Ball plot, Arthur knew Yamcha had just returned from a month of training in preparation for the Tenkaichi Budokai.

    As they walked, Yamcha mentioned the tournament. Arthur''s interest piqued, "You want topete in the martial arts tournament?"

    Yamcha turned to Arthur, his voiceced with resentment, "What is it to you?"

    Arthur smiled, unfazed by the hostility. "Nothing. I''m also thinking ofpeting in the tournament."

    "Oh, wow. You''re a fighter too?" Bulma''s eyes widened in surprise.

    "Kind of," Arthur nodded, his tone casual.

    Yamcha burst intoughter, with Puar joining in. "A pretty face like you actually thinking ofpeting in the tournament? Haha, that''s rich!"

    "Yeah, and if you do go to the tournament, you''ll be up against Yamcha-sama! You wouldn''t stand a chance!" Puar boasted proudly.

    Arthur''s smile remained unfazed. "Let''s see about that."

    As Bulma observed the exchange between Arthur and Yamcha, a thought struck her. "By the way, what''s your name?"

    "I''m Arthur," he replied simply.

    Bulma turned to Yamcha, her voice thoughtful. "Yamcha, I think Arthur might be a good fighter. After all, he just saved me from a truck earlier, remember?"

    Yamcha snorted dismissively. "That''s nothing." He added, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, "In fact, I was about to save you there, but Arthur was just nearer to you."

    The conversation continued as they made their way to Bulma''s impressive house. Panchy, Bulma''s mother, warmly weed Arthur and Yamcha.

    Over the meal, Bulma peppered Arthur with questions about his origins and fighting background, her interest obvious. Arthur offered measured responses, revealing little.

    ***

    As evening fell, Arthur found himself on Papaya Ind, thanks to Bulma''s assistance. Despite her visible disappointment, he parted ways with the group upon arrival.

    Arthur made his way to the tournament registration area, the ce buzzing with energy and anticipation. Amidst the crowd, he spotted familiar figures - Goku and Krillin, apanied by Master Roshi.

    Arthur observed an amusing scene unfold: Goku reuniting with Yamcha and the others, while Puar transformed into a hammer, which Bulma promptly used to send the perverted Roshi flying. Shaking his head with a bemused smile, Arthur entered the registration building.

    Soon, the elimination round began. Arthur noticed Yamcha eyeing him tauntingly from across the room.

    "This guy''s still salty about me saving his girl, huh," Arthur mused, ncing at the tournament bracket. He found himself in the same block as Yamcha, a coincidence that brought a smirk to his face. Arthur resolved to win this fight and teach Yamcha a lesson.

    When Arthur''s turn came, he relied solely on his physical prowess, easily defeating a humanoid wolf fighter. Murmurs of admiration rippled through the crowd.

    "Woah, that young man fights well."

    "Yeah, no kidding."

    Arthur''s smile widened as he caught snippets of conversation around him. Turning his attention to the other tournament blocks, he witnessed Goku casually tapping a gigantic fighter, who stumbled and fell off the stage.

    Arthur''s expression grew solemn.

    He understood the immense power Goku and Krillin had gained after seven months of training under Master Roshi.

    Later, he observed Yamcha''s fight, watching as the former bandit leapt and delivered a decisive kick to his tall, burly opponent''s face.

    But Arthur knew Yamcha wasn''t the real threat.

    His eyes narrowed as he contemted the true challenges: Goku, Krillin, and Jackie Chun - Roshi''s disguise. These were the opponents he needed to watch out for in the tournament ahead.

    Arthur''s eyes widened as he witnessed Krillin''s fight. The young monk''s opponent was sent flying, crashing through a wall and continuing his trajectory until he collided with a distant structure. The disy of raw power left Arthur increasingly pensive.

    Despite having illustrated this very scene in the Dragon Ball manga back in his world, witnessing it firsthand was an entirely different experience. The reality of the situation began to sink in.

 Chapter 134: Beating former bandit

    <h4>Chapter 134: Beating former bandit</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    As time passed, the anticipated bout between Arthur and Yamcha drew near.

    Yamcha red at Arthur from across the arena, his anger palpable. "Hmph, I''ll make sure to teach this guy a lesson," he muttered under his breath.

    Goku and Krillin, standing nearby, exchanged confused nces at Yamcha''s evident hostility.

    "Is there something wrong with that fighter, Yamcha?" Goku asked, his gaze shifting to Arthur in the distance.

    "He seems to have some unresolved animosity," Krillin observed, choosing his words carefully.

    Yamcha jabbed a finger in Arthur''s direction. "That guy is too pretty. I''ll make sure to rearrange his face in our fight, hehe."

    "Too pretty?" Goku tilted his head to the side, his confusion evident.

    Krillin stifled augh. "Oh, so you''re just jealous there''s another man who looks better than you?"

    "Shut up!" Yamcha snapped at Krillin, who continued to snicker at his expense.

    ***

    Arthur breezed through his preliminary matches with ease. Despite facing opponents with imposing physiques, their sluggish movements made them easy targets for his refined techniques.

    His arsenal had been bolstered by martial arts skills purchased from the system shop: "Infernal Fist", "Infernal Kick", and "Swift Step". His trump cards, acquired at a steeper price, were the million-point "Devil''s Dance" and the 1.2 million-point "Wrathful Rage", thetter promising enhanced agility and power through controlled fury.

    While his "Nether Surge" remained off-limits due to its magical nature, Arthur''s newly acquired skills more thanpensated, making his victories seem effortless.

    Finally, the moment arrived - Arthur versus Yamcha. Arthur bounded onto the stage, hands sped behind his back, the picture of nonchnce.

    "Go, Yamcha! You can do it!" Goku''s enthusiastic cheer rang out.

    Arthur shed a genuine smile at his opponent. "I didn''t expect to meet you so soon. How are you holding up?"

    Yamcha''s teeth audibly ground together. "Don''t give me that look, bastard!" He immediately assumed a fighting stance. "Don''t be too cocky! I''ll make sure to teach you a lesson for eyeing my girl!"

    Arthur''s softughter only seemed to infuriate Yamcha further. "Go on, show me what you''ve got." His confidence was palpable, born from intimate knowledge of Yamcha''s skills, martial arts, and character - all meticulously drawn by Arthur''s own hand in the Dragon Ball manga for months.

    "Hmph! Let''s see if you''ll still have that smug look when I beat you!" Yamcha snarled, lunging at Arthur.

    Arthur easily read Yamcha''s movements. Compared to Goku and Krillin, who had trained for seven months under Roshi, Yamcha''s month-long preparation paled inparison.

    Evading Yamcha''s punch, Arthur muttered, "Infernal Fist!" His counter-attack zed towards Yamcha.

    Yamcha managed to dodge, but found himself immediately facing an iing "Infernal Kick". Unable to fully evade, he was sent flying.

    Goku and Krillin watched in astonishment. "That man is strong!" Krillin eximed.

    "Umu!" Goku nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he observed Arthur''s prowess.

    Yamcha teetered on the edge of the stage, regaining his bnce with a relieved sigh. "Phew!" He turned to Arthur, a grudging respect in his voice. "I admit, I underestimated you."

    "And I admit that I overestimated you," Arthur replied, his disappointment clearly feigned to provoke his opponent.

    "Grr, don''t be so cocky, bastard!" Yamcha snarled,unching into his signature move. "Wolf Fang Fist!!!"

    Arthur''s smile widened, his n to anger Yamcha into reckless action unfolding perfectly.

    Master Roshi, disguised as Jackie Chun, observed the fight with a critical eye. He shook his head, muttering, "What an impatient guy." The old master recognized Arthur''s strategy of manipting Yamcha''s emotions.

    True to Roshi''s prediction, Arthur employed his "Swift Step", effortlessly sidestepping Yamcha''s airborne assault.

    "Infernal Fist!!!" Arthur''s shout pierced the air.

    Time seemed to slow as Arthur''s fist connected with Yamcha''s exposed nk. Panic shed across Yamcha''s face as the realization of his mistake hit him, a fraction of a second before Arthur''s fist did.

    "Gah!" Yamcha''s cry of pain apanied his flight from the ring. He collided with a wall, groaning as he slumped to the ground.

    "Winner, fighter number 40, Arthur Pendragon!"

    The announcement was met with a wave of astonished murmurs from the surrounding fighters. But none were more shocked than Goku.

    "I thought that guy was strong?" Krillin pointed at the distant, crumpled form of Yamcha. "What happened?"

    Goku shook his head, watching as staff members assisted Yamcha. "That guy..." His gaze shifted to Arthur, excitement building in his voice. "He was pretty strong! I want to fight him!"

    Krillin stared at Goku, incredulous. "You''re not even sad for your friend over there? He was defeated!"

    "Yeah, he must be pretty sad about it," Goku nodded, his expression innocently thoughtful. "I guess his opponent was just that strong."

    ***

    Outside the arena, Bulma''s shock was palpable as she confronted the eliminated Yamcha. "Who defeated you?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

    Yamcha squirmed, embarrassment evident in his posture. "Well..."

    "Was it Goku?" Bulma ventured, filling the awkward silence.

    Yamcha remained silent, his pride still smarting from the defeat.

    The group''s attention shifted as Roshi appeared, followed shortly by Goku and Krillin.

    "Hey, Yamcha," Goku approached, his tone sympathetic but eyes gleaming with excitement. "Too bad I couldn''t fight you. I thought we could face off again."

    "Yeah..." Yamcha''s disappointment was evident.

    Goku''s enthusiasm bubbled over. "But I''m very excited to face that guy who defeated you!"

    Curiosity piqued, Bulma turned to Goku. "Who is this guy that beat him?"

    Yamcha interjected hastily, "Oh, haha, it''s just an unknown fighter! You don''t need to bother!"

    "I don''t remember his name..." Goku admitted, scratching his head.

    "Oh..." Bulma nodded, while Yamcha exhaled in relief.

    His reprieve was short-lived as Krillin chimed in, "I believe he was defeated by a guy that Yamcha called a pretty face. If I remember correctly, his name was Arthur."

    "Ah! Yamcha was defeated by that Arthur?" Bulma eximed, surprise and recognition mingling in her voice.

    Yamcha''s face reddened, his embarrassmentplete.

    Bulma, seemingly oblivious to Yamcha''s wounded pride, eximed, "Too bad I couldn''t watch it! I only got to see the earlier fights in that building!"

    Yamcha''s embarrassment gave way to surprise. "You were actually watching earlier?"

    "Of course I was!" Bulma''s cheeks puffed out in a pout. "I came to watch you. I even struggled to reach an open window to peek inside. I cheered for you, but youpletely ignored me!"

    Yamcha''s face cycled through a range of emotions ¨C surprise, guilt, and a touch of warmth at Bulma''s dedication. The revtion that she had been there, supporting him even when he was unaware, seemed to soften the blow of his defeat.

    ***

    As the main tournament about to start, Arthur found himself among the final eight contestants. He surveyed his fellowpetitors: the alluring Ranfan, the determined Nam, the disguised Jackie Chun, the enthusiastic Goku, the strategic Krillin, the brutish Giran, and the malodorous Bacterian.

    Thetter''s stench created an unconscious barrier, with the other seven contestants maintaining a noticeable distance.

    Arthur''s gaze lingered on Roshi''s disguised form. The old master, perceptive as ever, seemed to notice the scrutiny.

    Suddenly, Arthur felt a probing force attempting to invade his mind. ''The old man is using telepathy!'' Arthur realized, instinctively erecting a magical barrier.

    He knew of Roshi''s ability to read minds - a formidable skill that had likely served the old master well. But Arthur was prepared, his magical defenses holding firm against the psychic intrusion.

    Meanwhile, Roshi''s surprise was evident as he encountered an unexpected mental barrier. ''This is new... There''s actually someone here who can block my telepathy!''

    The old master regarded Arthur with newfound interest. ''It seems this tournament will prove more intriguing than anticipated. There are some fascinating individuals here.''

    Roshi offered Arthur a disarming smile, waving as if he hadn''t just attempted to breach the young man''s mental defenses.

    A chill ran down Arthur''s spine. Despite his growing confidence in his martial arts and his eagerness to test himself against the other contestants, he knew better than to underestimate them. After all, Roshi was capable of destroying the moon just to neutralize Goku''s transformation.

    Soon after, the blonde announcer called them over to draw lots for the tournament bracket.

    True to form, the lecherous Roshi boldly grasped Ranfan''s arm, asking the announcer if he could be paired against the beauty. His request was met with an exasperated rebuke from the announcer.

    The awkward moment passed, and the drawing proceeded.

    "Arthur, you''re number 4, which puts you in match 2," the announcer dered.

    ''Using magic here should be allowed,'' Arthur mused, contemting the possibility of manipting the drawing. Based on his recollection, he was ted to face Roshi as Jackie Chun, having taken Yamcha''s ce in the tournament.

    Preferring to postpone his confrontation with Roshi, Arthur subtly employed his magic to influence the drawing box. He ensured Jackie Chun would face Bacterian, while Krillin would be paired against Ranfan.

    As the brackets were finalized, Arthur allowed himself a small smile. Things were unfolding ording to his n.

 Chapter 135: Beating Nam and Against Master Turtle Hermit

    <h4>Chapter 135: Beating Nam and Against Master Turtle Hermit</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The arena buzzed with anticipation, spectators packed tightly around its perimeter. Bulma, Yamcha, Puar, and Oolong had secured prime spots in the front row.

    The first match pitted Jackie Chun against Bacterian.

    Jackie Chun pinched his nose, his face contorted in disgust. "Big guy, when was thest time you washed? You reek!"

    Bacterian''s only response was a gutturalugh, his yellowed teeth visible even to the audience. A cloud of flies hovered around him, testament to his pungent aroma.

    "I bet that old man doesn''t stand a chance," Bulma dered confidently. "The guy he''s up against might smell, but he''s massive!"

    Yamcha shook his head, recalling Jackie Chun''s performance in the preliminaries. "I wouldn''t be so sure. I saw some of his fights - he easily defeated those other guys."

    Bulma ignored Yamcha''s input, leaving him feeling awkward and unheard.

    However, her surprise was evident when Jackie Chun swiftly dispatched Bacterian, proving Yamcha''s assessment correct.

    As the second fight was announced - Arthur Pendragon versus Nam - an unexpected voice rang out from the crowd.

    "Arthur! Do your best!"

    Arthur flinched, turning to see Bulma cheering enthusiastically for him.

    Yamcha''s indignation was immediate. "Hey! Why are you cheering for the guy who defeated me?"

    Bulma snorted dismissively. "Sure, you''re my boyfriend. But who says I can''t look for an upgrade? In this case, I found a better prospect!"

    Yamcha''s jaw dropped in shock, while Puar patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Poor Yamcha," the shape-shifting cat murmured.

    In the ring, Arthur sighed, his focus returning to Nam. He knew the stakes for his opponent - Nam was fighting to save his vige.

    Nam pressed his palms together, bowing respectfully. "I am sorry, but I must win this tournament."

    Arthur''s smile was tinged with determination. "I also intend to im victory."

    Nam''s demeanor shifted to one of intense focus as he lunged towards Arthur.

    Arthur quickly realized Nam was a cut above Yamcha. He employed his "Swift Step," but Nam''s speed was unexpected, closing the distance in an instant.

    The two fighters began exchanging rapid-fire blows, their movements a blur to the awestruck audience. Arthur''s evasions were met with Nam''s relentless attacks, each fighter giving as good as they got.

    As the match intensified, it became clear that this wouldn''t be an easy victory for eitherbatant. The crowd held its collective breath, sensing the gravity of the battle unfolding before them.

    Arthur found himself struggling without the crutch of magic.

    Despite his intimate knowledge of the Dragon Ball world from his writing, the reality before him presented subtle yet significant differences.

    Nam''s power, abilities, and techniques diverged slightly from the plot Arthur or Toriyama had penned.

    This realization forced Arthur to reassess not just his opponents, but his own capabilities as well.

    It was a peculiar feeling - to be so well-versed in the strengths of others, yet uncertain of his own limits.

    Pushing himself to 70 percent of his power, Arthur was surprised to find Nam keeping pace. As they separated, both fighters gasping for breath, Nam admitted, "You are tougher than expected."

    Arthur''s smile was tinged with exhration. The thrill of a genuine challenge coursed through him.

    From the sidelines, Goku''s excitement was palpable. "They are indeed strong!" he eximed, eyes wide with admiration.

    Roshi stroked his beard, his gaze fixed on Arthur. ''That young man has power in his strikes and impressive speed, but hecks bnce and seems unustomed to his body''s true strength. An interesting person indeed.''

    The old master saw untapped potential in Arthur, a diamond in the rough.

    Having tested the waters, Arthur decided to unleash more of his power.

    He began to increase his muscle mass, subtly tapping into his {Primal Morningstar} bloodline ability without fully activating it.

    The audience gasped as Arthur''s physique noticeably bulked up. His eyes took on a scarlet hue, adding to his intimidating transformation.

    "Let''s y!" Arthur grinned, a hint of mischief in his voice.

    Nam swallowed hard, reassessing his opponent. ''This guy is stronger than I thought...''

    "Hey, that guy seems to be using the same technique as Master Roshi!" Goku''s observation cut through the tension, leaving Krillin puzzled.

    Master Roshi, overhearing Goku''s observation, visibly flinched. The memory of his own transformation shed through his mind - the surge of power as his muscles swelled, the raw energy of the Kamehameha wave obliterating the Ox King''s castle.

    Nam, sensing the shift in Arthur''s power, attempted to evade. With a shout, he summoned his full strength,unching himself skyward in a surprising maneuver.

    "Woah! Nam just rocketed into the sky!" The announcer''s voice cracked with excitement.

    A collective gasp rippled through the audience.

    Arthur''s grin widened. Unsure if he could match Nam''s impressive leap, he channeled power into his legs, amplified by the {Primal Morningstar}. To everyone''s amazement, Arthur not only matched Nam''s height but surpassed it, streaking past his opponent like a crims.

    Nam''s eyes widened in shock as Arthur appeared above him.

    With a savage grin, Arthur unleashed his "Infernal Kick," targeting the now-falling Nam. The impact was devastating, sending Nam plummeting towards the arena floor at breakneck speed.

    Boom!!!

    The sound of Nam''s body striking the arena floor echoed through the stadium. Hey motionless, unconscious from the powerful attack.

    Arthurnded gracefully on the stage, a triumphant smile ying on his lips. He knew Nam''s enhanced physiology - typical of this world''s inhabitants - could withstand such an assault.

    The thrill of the fight coursed through Arthur''s veins. This tournament was proving to be an invaluable experience, allowing him to push his limits and truly understand his abilities.

    He felt his control over the {Primal Morningstar} growing with each moment.

    "Winner, Arthur Pendragon!" The announcer''s voice boomed across the arena.

    The crowd erupted in cheers, their excitement palpable.

    Goku''s eyes sparkled with unbridled enthusiasm. "I want to fight him!" he dered, grinning from ear to ear.

    Beside him, Krillin gulped nervously, hoping he wouldn''t have to face Arthur anytime soon. In his estimation, Arthur seemed to be on par with Goku, or perhaps just a hair below in terms of raw power.

    ***

    The tournament progressed swiftly after Arthur''s victory over Nam. Next up was the anticipated match between Krillin and Ranfan.

    Ranfan, true to her strategy, attempted to charm Krillin by stripping down to her underwear. The male spectators and Roshi watched with undisguised excitement.

    Roshi''s nose erupted in a spray of blood. "Wow, hehe, she really did it..."

    Krillin''s face flushed crimson, teetering on the edge of sumbing to Ranfan''s allure. However, he managed to break free from her spell at thest moment, swiftly knocking her out.

    "Winner, Krillin!"

    Instead of cheers, a collective groan of disappointment rippled through the male audience.

    The tournament pressed on, with Goku emerging victorious against Giran. Finally, the semi-finals arrived, pitting Arthur against Jackie Chun.

    Bulma''s voice cut through the crowd''s murmur, "Go Arthur! You can do it!"

    Yamcha, Puar, and Oolong exchanged bemused nces at her enthusiasm.

    Jackie Chun eyed Arthur appraisingly. "I''ve been looking forward to this match, young man. You seem quite skilled."

    Arthur''s smile held a hint of mischief as he decided to test his opponent. He pointed behind Roshi, eximing, "Look, is that a woman''s underwear?"

    Roshi''s breath hitched, his head whipping around. "Where?"

    Seizing the opportunity, Arthurunched his attack, mentally invoking ''Infernal Fist!''

    "Oops!" Roshi suddenly hunched over, hand on his lower back. "Ah, my back''s been acting uptely. I''m getting too old for this, sigh."

    His apparent frailty was a ruse; Arthur''s fist met nothing but air.

    Roshi''s eyes glinted dangerously. "Boy, do you ept a kick for deceiving your elder?"

    Before Arthur could retreat, Roshi''s foot connected with his stomach, sending him flying towards the edge of the arena. The audience gasped, certain Arthur would be eliminated - until, to everyone''s astonishment, wings erupted from Arthur''s back, allowing him to hover just above the ground.

    Roshi scratched his head, feigning annoyance. "Hey, hey, that''s not fair."

    "He can fly!" Krillin eximed, eyes wide with amazement.

    Goku nodded, equally impressed. "Yeah, that was amazing..."

    The unexpected turn of events left the crowd buzzing with excitement, eager to see how this aerial advantage would y out in the match between the wily veteran and the powerful young man.

 Chapter 136: Intense battle and returning

    <h4>Chapter 136: Intense battle and returning</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Underestimating the old man was a grave miscalction.

    As I faced Master Roshi, the folly of my attempted trickery became painfully apparent. If not for my wings, I''d have been eliminated. Though, even if I had been, I could always resort to the "Load" option, reverting to my save file from an hour ago, before the fight.

    The possibility of losing this fight loomedrge in my mind. Roshi, after all, was a master with decades of experience, having invented many martial arts techniques.

    Inded back in the arena, forcing a smile. "You''re pretty strong, old man," I admitted, adding cheekily, "Despite being a pervert, you''re quite the master."

    Roshi, in his Jackie Chun disguise, retorted, "Watch your mouth, young man."

    We engaged in a brief staring contest before Iunched into an attack. To my frustration, Roshi effortlessly evaded every strike.

    Gritting my teeth, I decided it was time to unleash the "Devil''s Dance".

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The audience watched in awe as Jackie Chun consistently evaded Arthur''s relentless attacks.

    "The old man is incredibly strong!"

    "Indeed. He must be a true master."

    Backstage, Goku and Krillin observed the fight with growing amazement.

    "That Arthur seems to bepletely outssed by Jackie Chun!" Krillin eximed, his voice tinged with disbelief.

    Goku nodded thoughtfully. "If Arthur defeated Yamcha, and he''s struggling against that old guy, then that old guy must be incredibly powerful."

    On stage, Roshi feigned a yawn, channeling "Ki" into his hand. "Here, have a taste of the breeze," he chuckled, waving his hand towards Arthur.

    As the wind attack rushed towards him, Arthur suddenly called out, "Devil''s Dance!"

    Roshi''s eyes narrowed as Arthur gracefully evaded the wind ki attack. The old master''s brow furrowed in curiosity. "Dancing?" he muttered, intrigued by Arthur''s unusual evasive technique.

    The fight had taken an unexpected turn, leaving bothbatants and spectators alike wondering what surprisesy ahead in this sh of youth and experience.

    Arthur closed the distance in a sh. "I''m here," he announced,unching into a kick.

    Roshi leapt high to evade, descending with a counter-kick of his own. But Arthur''s graceful evasion led seamlessly into a counterattack. He sidestepped and threw a punch at Roshi, who narrowly avoided it.

    Undeterred, Arthur pressed on. His movements were fluid, his attacks lethal. He kept up a relentless barrage, weaving between offense and defense with mesmerizing precision.

    From the sidelines, Yamcha watched, transfixed. "I can''t tear my eyes away from Arthur! His movement is... captivating!"

    "You''re right, he moves so gracefully!" Bulma agreed, hearts practically visible in her eyes.

    Yamcha trembled, his gaze locked on Arthur. ''Incredible... He''s using a powerful technique that makes him look spellbinding! If I were his opponent, I''d be lost in his movements!''

    Even Roshi, in the thick of the fight, found himself intrigued by Arthur''s technique. ''Fascinating... Did he invent this himself? If so, his potential is truly remarkable.''

    Arthur continued his assault, burning through his stamina and energy as a substitute for magic. ''Damn it,'' he thought, gritting his teeth. He managed tond a few hits, but they seemed to have minimal effect on Roshi.

    While Roshi struggled tond his own attacks, his experienced eyes never stopped searching for weaknesses in Arthur''s technique. A glint of understanding shed in his eyes as he noticed Arthur''s intensity gradually waning.

    ''Ah, so he can''t maintain it without sacrificing something,'' Roshi noted with a smile. ''I''ll just wait for him to tire himself out,'' he chuckled inwardly, settling into a more defensive stance.

    Sensing Roshi''s rxed demeanor, Arthur immediately activated "Wrathful Rage." The pent-up frustration fueled his power surge.

    Roshi''s eyes widened in surprise as Arthur''s attacks suddenly intensified. Each punch and kick now carried a sting that couldn''t be ignored. ''Did he used another technique?'' Roshi marveled, struggling to maintain his defense.

    In response, Roshi employed his "After Image Technique," aiming to confuse his opponent. But thebination of "Devil''s Dance" and "Wrathful Rage" sharpened Arthur''s senses. He saw through the illusion andnded a solid punch, sending Roshi flying.

    As Roshi regained his bnce, Arthur prepared to press his advantage. But before he could, Roshi''s voice rang out, shocking everyone: "I concede!"

    A wave of confused murmurs swept through the crowd. Arthur halted mid-stride, bewildered. He knew Roshi had more fight left in him - he hadn''t even used his "Full Power" form yet!

    "What''s the matter? You don''t want to continue?" Arthur asked, genuinely perplexed. Despite his struggle, he''d felt himself improving with every exchange.

    Roshi giggled. "Hehe, I''m too old to fight an energetic young man like you! My bones are already giving out!"

    Arthur mentally called ''Bullshit'' on that excuse, knowing full well Roshi''s strength surpassed that of ordinary young men.

    Suddenly, Arthur felt a gentle probe at his mental defenses. Recognizing Roshi''s telepathy and sensing no threat, he allowed the connection.

    Roshi''s voice echoed in his mind: "I''m very impressed by you, kid. You have some interesting martial arts skills. But you still need to train if you want to be stronger. It''s about control, discipline, and knowing when to strike. You need patience and work hard."

    As Roshi leapt off the stage, his mental voice continued, "See you till then. I want to see you fight against my disciple."

    Arthur watched Roshi''s retreating back disappear into the crowd, a mix of confusion and respect swirling in his mind.

    The announcer''s voice cut through Arthur''s reverie: "Er, ah, that''s it,dies and gentlemen! In an unexpected turn of events, Jackie Chun has conceded to Arthur Pendragon!"

    The audience erupted into cheers, their excitement palpable despite the unconventional conclusion to the match.

    As the apuse washed over him, Arthur found himself reflecting on Roshi''s words. The old master had seen potential in him, but also areas for growth. This victory, while satisfying, was clearly just the beginning of a longer journey.

    Arthur rxed as he made his way backstage, passing Goku and Krillin who watched him with a mix of awe and curiosity. Finding a quiet spot, he sat down to rest.

    Krillin''s nervous voice broke the silence. "It''s our turn to fight now, huh, Goku?"

    "Yeah, let''s do our best!" Goku giggled, bounding towards the arena with infectious enthusiasm.

    After catching his breath, Arthur moved to watch the battle between Goku and Krillin. The fight was intense, but ultimately, Goku emerged victorious.

    "Looks like this is it for now..." Arthur murmured, noting he still had ''28 remaining'' in this world.

    He knew facing Goku would be challenging, especially with afternoon approaching and a full moon on the horizon. The prospect of battling a Great Ape was not appealing.

    Moreover, time constraints weighed on his mind. Thirty days here equated to one day in his world, and he''d already spent about a day here - roughly 40 to 60 minutes in reality. By not fully using the "one-day" limit of {Creator''s Realms}, he could reactivate the ability without expending 3 million mana - a significant saving.

    With a decisive nod, Arthur hit "save" and exited the world.

    Back in the "Creator''s Realms" interface, he promptly exited, finding himself once again in his office. The clock revealed only 57 minutes had passed.

    "Phew." Arthur exhaled, flexing his right hand. While he hadn''t mastered "Ki," hisbat skills had markedly improved. The experience left him confident in facing powerful martial artists in his own world, knowing he could further hone his skills in "Dragon Ball" if needed.

    His musings were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Enter," he called out.

    Klein stepped in, followed by several unfamiliar faces. "Where did you go, boss?" he asked, confusion evident in his tone. "I knocked ten minutes ago, and no one answered!"

    Arthur''s gaze shifted to the group behind Klein. He improvised quickly, "I was... sleeping."

    Klein''s expression remained skeptical. "Boss, these are police investigators. They have some questions for you."

    Arthur''s mind raced, wondering what could have prompted this unexpected visit fromw enforcement.

 Chapter 137: Creatorâ€™s Realms is a useful ability

    <h4>Chapter 137: Creator''s Realms is a useful ability</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I surveyed the police officers before me, then turned to Klein. "You can go. I''ll handle this."

    Klein nodded, concern etched on his face as he exited the office.

    Turning back to the officers, I offered a calm smile. "What can I do for our esteemedw enforcement today?"

    "May we sit?" The apparent leader of the group asked.

    "By all means," I gestured to the chairs.

    Only a few took seats while the others remained standing, a subtle show of force.

    The lead officer cleared his throat. "Mr. Morningstar, we understand you have an ongoing case against Caleb Diamond?"

    I nodded, maintaining myposure. "That''s correct. As you''re likely aware, my talents were assaulted by Caleb and his associates."

    The officers exchanged meaningful nces before the leader continued, "We''re here about that, Mr. Morningstar."

    "Oh?" I feigned curiosity.

    "We''d like to persuade you to drop the case against Caleb."

    I couldn''t help but chuckle. "Is there any particr reason I should abandon my pursuit of justice?"

    "It''s a futile endeavor, Mr. Morningstar," the leader said, his tone patronizing. "Our investigation shows your talentsck concrete evidence against Caleb. He''s innocent."

    "Well, that should be good news for Caleb," I smiled, my voiceced with barely concealed sarcasm. "But I won''t be dropping the case. After all, if Caleb truly is innocent, he has nothing to fear."

    The leader''s eyes hardened. "Is that your final word?"

    "Indeed it is," I replied, my respectful facade firmly in ce. "If there''s nothing else to discuss, I''ll see you gentlemen out."

    "No need," the leader waved dismissively, signaling his group to exit.

    As they filed out, I allowed myself a soft chuckle. "A bunch of fools. Puppets of themissioner," I muttered under my breath.

    There was no way I''d drop the case against Caleb. This visit only confirmed my suspicions about the corruption running through the city''s veins. It was clear that my pursuit of justice would ruffle more than a few feathers, but I was prepared for the challenge. The game was on, and I intended to y it to win.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The following day, Arthur returned to the {Creator''s Realms}, eager to test his mettle against Goku.

    Their exchange of blows was fierce, but the tide turned dramatically when Goku transformed into the Great Ape. Despite his best efforts, Arthur found himself overwhelmed, unceremoniously sted away by the colossal simian.

    Sighing in resignation, Arthur loaded his previous save file, returning to the day of Bulma''s invitation to her house. This time, he had a different agenda.

    "Bulma, could you show me the basic operating system for your earlyputers?" Arthur asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

    Intrigued, Bulma obliged, leading him to her personalputer. To her astonishment, Arthur began meticulously copying the code onto paper.

    Days passed, and stacks of papers filled with assembly code grew steadily. Arthur''s dexterous hands, honed by years of artistry, allowed him to transcribe the entire system with remarkable speed and uracy.

    Bulma returned to the guest room, eyeing the mountain of coded papers with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "What do you need all this for?" she asked.

    Arthur smiled enigmatically. "Oh, this? Just something I''m working on."

    "Something?" Bulma echoed, her brow furrowed.

    Unbeknownst to Bulma, Arthur had recognized a crucial divergence: theputer technologies in the Dragon Ball world were markedly different from both his previous life''s experiences and the knowledge bestowed upon him by the system.

    This disparity presented a unique opportunity - a chance to acquire a copy of a basic operating system unlike anything in his world.

    Typically, creating an operating system from scratch would be a Herculean task, even with Arthur''s inheritedputer knowledge. It wasn''t just about knowing the principles; it required meticulous nning and coding of every minute detail.

    While Arthur could conceptualize a basic operating system simr to Windows 1, drawing from his previous life''s memories and system-granted knowledge, hecked the specific code implementations. His team back home had been working on following his ns to code a Windows 1-like OS, but progress was slow.

    This serendipitous discovery in the Dragon Ball world could potentially elerate his technological ambitions back home, bridging the gap between concept and implementation in ways he hadn''t anticipated.

    With the basic operating system in hand, Arthur had effectively eliminated the need for his team to spend countless hours developing a Windows 1 equivalent from scratch. The operating system he''d copied from the Dragon Ball world, with its striking simrities to Windows 1, provided an invaluable shortcut.

    Arthur had already begun modifying the code to align with the specifications he and hisputer team had nned. While there was still work to be done - testing and bug-fixing the modifications - the bulk of the groundwork wasid.

    Later, Bulma returned, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Are you finally done?"

    Arthur nodded, then asked, "Is the package I requested ready?"

    Bulma produced a small capsule. "Everything''s in here."

    With a nod of thanks, Arthur exited the world, returning to the {Creator''s Realms} interface. To his satisfaction, the capsule remained in his hand.

    While the {Creator''s Realms} didn''t allow for the transportation of people from fictional worlds, it did permit the transfer of certain objects and items.

    While bringing people from fictional worlds was beyond {Creator''s Realms} current capabilities, this limitation did little to dampen Arthur''s spirits.

    Back in his office, Arthur activated the capsule. With a soft ''poof'', an array of items and materials materialized before him.

    The haul included crucial materials for his nextputer project, along with a treasure trove of technology: speakers, a color TV, a VHS yer, and nk VHS tapes. These items, while considered antiques in the Dragon Ball world, represented cutting-edge technology in Arthur''s reality.

    Arthur''s mind raced with possibilities. He could reverse engineer these devices, substituting materials that didn''t exist in his world with suitable alternatives.

    The color TV, while an antique in Dragon Ball''s world, represented cutting-edge technology in Arthur''s reality. Its presence promised to revolutionize the entertainmentndscape.

    ***

    Later, as Arthur exited thepany building, his instincts prickled. A quick nce confirmed his suspicions - a group of thugs were tailing him.

    Deciding to confront the situation head-on, Arthur led them into a secluded alley, ensuring no innocent bystanders would be caught in the crossfire.

    Without turning, Arthur addressed his pursuers. "What do you want from me?"

    A fiendish demon, clearly the leader, cracked his knuckles with an ominous pop. "Hehe, you don''t need to know," he sneered. "Someone just wanted us to teach you a lesson."

    "Is that so?" Arthur''s lips curved into a smile, a glint of anticipation in his eyes.

    His fighting experience from the Dragon Ball world was about to face its first real-world test. While he knew reality operated on different logic - he couldn''t replicate Nam''s superhuman leaps with minimal effort here - the skills and instincts he''d honed remained razor-sharp.

    Before the thugs could react, Arthur vanished from their line of sight. In a blink, he reappeared beside them, his fist glowing with energy as he unleashed the "Infernal Fist" technique on the leader.

    The demon crashed into the wall with a sickening thud. As realization dawned on the other thugs, they lunged at Arthur. But he was already in motion, effortlessly evading their clumsy attacks and systematically dismantling their offense.

    What should have been a group assault quickly devolved into a one-sided beatdown, with Arthur as the unlikely victor. He methodically incapacitated each thug, saving the leader forst.

    "Please! No more!" the leader whimpered, cowering before Arthur''s raised fist.

    Arthur''s eyes narrowed. "Who ordered you to attack me?"

    The leader hesitated, but as Arthur''s fist inched closer, he broke. "It was a police officer! I- I don''t know his name!"

    Another thug, sprawled on the ground, chimed in through tears, "Yes! He paid us to beat you. And..."

    "And leave you this letter..." the leader finished, fumbling to produce an envelope.

    Arthur snatched the letter, his eyes scanning its contents. The message was clear: drop the case against Caleb Diamond.

    A dark chuckle escaped Arthur''s lips as he tore the letter to shreds. This crude attempt at intimidation had only strengthened his resolve. Whoever was behind this - be it Caleb or corrupt officers - had severely underestimated their opponent.

    A few days ago, Arthur might have needed to fully transform into his {Primal Morningstar} form. Now, he didn''t even need to tap into the ability to defeat the thugs whoy battered and crying on the ground.

 Chapter 138: Hellfire OS 1 and expansion

    <h4>Chapter 138: Hellfire OS 1 and expansion</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    After dealing with the thugs, I made my way to our secret warehouse. The team''s eyes widened as I presented the stack of papers containing the operating system code I''d acquired from the Dragon Ball world.

    Drake''s excitement was palpable. "This is incredible! We can start test-running this program immediately - identify any issues in the code!"

    I smiled, confident in myputer knowledge yet aware of theplexities involved. "Go ahead and check for any bugs," I advised. "This isn''t just a simple calction or movie editing program based on binary like our firstputer. It''s far more intricate."

    "Got it, boss," theputer team chorused, their enthusiasm evident.

    Josh grinned, "It''s fortunate that theputer can read these papers without much trouble. We should see results in a few days."

    Our young wizard on the team quickly duplicated the papers I''d brought. The duplicates dissolved, their contents instantly readable by ourputer systems.

    Within minutes, the team had input the necessarymands, and "Hellfire OS 1" flickered to life on the screen.

    As the interface appeared, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of pride. It was clearly superior to the Windows 1 I remembered from my previous life.

    "This is amazing, boss! Did you really manage to do this all by yourself?" Drake''s voice was filled with awe.

    I simply nodded, keeping to myself the thought that with more advanced hardware, I could have copied an even more sophisticated OS from the Dragon Ball world.

    "There are still a few issues," Josh observed, "but nothing we can''t fix. We should have most of them sorted out in a few days."

    "Excellent work," Imended them. "Once we''ve ironed out these kinks, we''ll focus on developing better CPUs, RAM, and otherponents for our nextputer project."

    The team nodded, their smiles a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. Their earlier work on the OS hadn''t been in vain - it had provided them invaluable programming experience that would serve us well moving forward.

    Smiling, I left the warehouse, my mind racing with possibilities. If only I could have brought advancedputerponents from the Dragon Ball world for my team to research, our progress would have been exponential. Unfortunately, the {Creator''s Realms} had its limitations. I could only bring certain items or materials.

    Even so, the colored TV and other advanced gadgets like the capsule were pushing the boundaries of what the {Creator''s Realms} could handle. It was a start, and a promising one at that.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    In the Morningstar Kingdom, while "The Demonfather Part 2" continued to dominate many conversations, a new and rming development had captured the public''s attention.

    Newspapers across the kingdom bore startling headlines:

    "We are in a grave magical mana crisis!"

    "Gloomstone Forest and nearby settlements drained of magical mana!"

    "Unexpected mass slumber reported in Gloomstone Town!"

    The news sent ripples of anxiety through the citizenry, quickly spreading to neighboring nations.

    In a local tavern, patrons huddled around tables, their voices hushed with concern as they discussed thetest developments.

    An old scale demon spoke, his voice quavering, "Didn''t a mana drought just ur in that district in Horn Kingdom? Now it''s happening in our kingdom too?"

    "Yeah, and from what I''ve heard, the situation in Gloomstone is even worse," another demon nodded, worry etched on his face.

    A fiend demon sighed, shaking his head. "What''s happening to our world?"

    "This is why we need to safeguard the magical mana in our surroundings," another fiend demon chimed in. "The news says scientists are rmending we nt trees that produce magical mana."

    "True," someone eximed. "If the mana suddenly vanishes, our very existence could be at risk!"

    An elderly demon leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I''ve heard that if mana disappearspletely, we''ll fall into an eternal slumber, never to wake again."

    His words sent a chill through the tavern, the patrons exchanging uneasy nces. The mana crisis was no longer a distant concern but a palpable threat to their way of life.

    ***

    Meanwhile, certain cults propagated the belief that the "Mana Crisis" heralded the return of the Old Gods, who would soon overthrow New Gods like Srus from their celestial thrones.

    These cultish rumors put other faiths on high alert. However, a few discerning figures spected that the true cause of the "Mana Crisis" was not divine intervention, but something far more tangible: "The Ring of Greed," one of the legendary rings of power.

    One individual particrly convinced of this theory was the mysterious leader of a secret organization. He had convened a meeting with his highest-ranking members to discuss the crisis.

    "Boss, are you certain it''s the Ring of Greed?" A man leaned forward, addressing the figure seated at the head of the table.

    The leader, his face obscured by an eagle mask, nodded solemnly. "There''s a high probability," he said, his voice resonating with authority. "Ancient records speak of the Ring of Greed''s ability to absorb magical mana from vast distances. Recent reports align perfectly with these ounts. I''m convinced this ''Mana Crisis'' is the work of the Ring of Greed."

    Murmurs of agreement rippled through the assembly. A woman in a fox mask, her voice melodious yet sharp, spoke up. "If that''s the case, the Ring first manifested in Horn Kingdom, and then in Gloomstone Forest?"

    "Precisely," the leader confirmed. He paused, his next words heavy with implication. "And it''s crucial to note that the ring cannot consume mana autonomously. Someone must be wearing it."

    This revtion sent a wave of rm through the members. The individual in the devil mask, his voice a deep rumble, voiced their collective concern. "If so, locating the ring will prove exceptionally challenging."

    The leader''s response was swift and decisive. "Deploy our operatives to investigate Gloomstone Forest. That''s where the ring''s presence wasst detected."

    "What about that district in Horn Kingdom?" a masked member inquired.

    The leader''s response was measured. "We''ll focus our primary investigation on Gloomstone, but dispatch our most capable andpetent operatives to Horn Kingdom as well. We can''t afford to overlook any potential leads."

    "Understood," the members chorused in unison, their voices blending into a solemn affirmation.

    ***

    Meanwhile, Arthur remained blissfully unaware of the consequences his actions had set in motion. Even if he had known, he likely wouldn''t have cared much. Experience had taught him that the more he concerned himself with such matters, the more trouble seemed to find him.

    Currently, Arthur was preupied with expanding Hellfire Studio. He was in the process of hiring directors to work on martial arts movies, with Lee Jun-fan at the forefront. Arthur had even convinced Lee to adopt the screen name "Bruce Lee," a nod to his previous life''s knowledge.

    But hiring directors was just the tip of the iceberg. Arthur''s true focusy in reverse-engineering the color television and preparing an "Anime Studio." He had grand ns to produce anime series like "Dragon Ball," "Naruto," "Cowboy Bebop," and many others.

    Arthur''s strategy was intrinsically linked to the {Creator''s Realms} ability.

    The more sessful a fiction became in his reality, the greater his influence within that fictional world. This extended to bringing back more objects and materials, and even retaining a greater portion of the powers he gained in those realms.

    Due to the differing logic between fictional worlds and his reality, Arthur couldn''t fully transnt the immense power he gained in fiction to his real life. From the Dragon Ball world, for instance, he only retained about 10% of the power he''d acquired there.

    This percentage could increase with the fiction''s sess in reality, potentially reaching 20% or higher.

    Despite this limitation, the 10% he did retain was far from insignificant. He could use techniques like the Kamehameha by substituting "Ki" with "Magic." However, Arthur had made an even more crucial discovery: his reality was brimming with untapped "Ki" energy.

    This revtion made mastering "Ki" maniption in Dragon Ball even more vital. In his own reality, Arthur could potentially harness all this ambient "Ki" for himself. The challenge nowy in training within Dragon Ball to increase his capacity to contain and controlrger amounts of "Ki."

 Chapter 139: Rumours of retiring

    <h4>Chapter 139: Rumours of retiring</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The opportunity to join the rising "Hellfire Studio" was too tempting to ignore. Many directors rushed to submit their applications.

    Despite many filmmakers'' hatred for Arthur Morningstar reshaping the industry, they couldn''t deny the massive impact he''d made in such a short time.

    Among the applicants was Amon Oblivion - once a famous director in the Morningstar Kingdom, until he faded into irrelevance following Arthur''s meteoric rise.

    ''I will prove to everyone that I can still be a great filmmaker,'' Amon thought to himself.

    After losing his relevance, people he once called friends began distancing themselves from him.

    Even his family, a noble house in Abbadon City, abandoned him without hesitation.

    He endured months of hardship, initially ming Arthur in silence for his situation. But life humbled him and taught him harsh lessons. Gradually, he came to realize that his situation wasn''t Arthur''s fault at all.

    This realization struck hardest when he witnessed Arthur''s work firsthand - during his roughest days, he''d spent his preciousst two dors to watch Lord of the Rings. There was no denying it - Arthur Morningstar was a demon that every filmmaker should aspire to be.

    Amon found himself growing grateful to Arthur - without this fall from grace, he might have remained surrounded by fake friends and family forever.

    A few weeks ago, he returned to filmmaking. Histest film earned enough money to fund his journey to the Horn Kingdom, where he hoped to secure a position as director at "Hellfire Studio".

    After a brief wait in line, Amon''s turn came. He found himself standing before the panel of interviewers - and there sat Arthur himself.

    Amon''s emotions tangled as he stood in the same room as the legendary Arthur Morningstar.

    "Your name?" Arthur asked.

    Lost in thought, Amon didn''t respond until Arthur repeated the question.

    "Your name?"

    "I am Amon Oblivion, your highness," Amon replied.

    "Amon Oblivion..." Arthur nodded, then began a series of questions about filmmaking.

    Amon answered each question without hesitation.

    This caught Arthur and the other interviewers by surprise - including Mochi and several crew members who hoped to be directors themselves.

    "Interesting..." Arthur leaned forward, adding, "Most filmmakers applying to mypany are beginners without much experience, but you seem to have quite a background in the industry?"

    Amon smiled, pride warming his chest at Arthur''s observation. "I am indeed an experienced filmmaker. I''ve directed several critically acimed films." He deliberately avoided mentioning his awards, knowing it would seem like boasting - especially in front of Arthur, winner of the Lunar Laurel Award.

    "Is that so?" Arthur stroked his chin. "Why join Hellfire Studio if you''re already established?"

    "Yes, our surveys show experienced directors usually avoid working under Hellfire Studio," Mochi added.

    Amon''s smile widened as he looked at Arthur. "Well, it''s simple." He pointed to Arthur. "I aspire to be a great director like Arthur Morningstar."

    Arthur and the others exchanged surprised nces. "You want to be a great director?" Arthur said. "You don''t need to join Hellfire Studio for that."

    Amon shook his head firmly. "True, but I believe I have much to learn here. If I want to get closer to my dream, I need to be close to you, your highness!" His enthusiasm rang clear in his voice.

    Looking at Amon''s earnest expression, Arthur chuckled wryly. ''Well, that came out weird... To be close to me? This guy is definitely serious.''

    "Well," Arthur said, "if you want to work at my studio that badly, then you''re epted."

    Though ted inside, Amon maintained hisposure.

    Arthur turned to the nearby staff. "Please escort Mr. Oblivion to the directors'' dorm."

    The staff nodded and led Amon to the ''directors'' dorm'' - actually a hotel nearby owned by Arthur''s recently acquired Dominion Estatepany.

    ***

    Within days, Hellfire Studio sessfully hired eight promising directors.

    Arthur saw potential in all of them, particrly Amon Oblivion.

    He assigned each director to specific departments and distributed scripts and projects he wanted them to film.

    The projects were carefully selected, matching each director''s capabilities.

    Amon became the first director to begin work on a Hellfire Studio project.

    Arthur assigned him "Enter the Dragon," starring Lee Jun-fan as the lead.

    Though Amon would direct, Arthur had already nned the backdrops, character outfits, and style to match the "Enter the Dragon" film from his previous life.

    Despite Amon''s talent as a director, Arthur couldn''t risk leaving the project entirely in his hands.

    While Amon held creative control over "Enter the Dragon," he needed to follow Arthur''s specific guidelines for the film.

    Meanwhile, media outlets had caught wind of Hellfire Studio''s director hiring spree, sparking widespread spection throughout the entertainment industry.

    When Hellfire Studio finally announced its eight new directors, headlines exploded across Horn Kingdom''s newspapers:

    "Is Arthur Retiring from Directing?"

    "After Arthur''s Step Back - What''s Next for Hellfire Studio?"

    "Has Arthur Given Up the Director''s Chair?"

    "Lord of the Rings Fans Concerned About Sequel''s Fate"

    At news stalls, these headlines sparked heated discussions among readers.

    "What a shame. I was looking forward to the Lord of the Rings sequel, and now Arthur''s giving up directing?" A demon sighed, lowering his newspaper.

    A nearby elf chuckled, "You people never learn. These headlinesck credibility. Arthur wouldn''t quit directing so suddenly."

    "Right, he''s making too much money as a director to give it up," others chimed in.

    "I''ll only believe it when Arthur announces his retirement himself," another demon dered.

    "Besides, he''s far too young to retire," someone added.

    Though Hellfire Studio had hired new directors, public trust in them remained skeptical.

    Like it or not, Arthur''s relevance as a director was undeniable. People naturally worried about other directors taking over projects like "Lord of the Rings."

    ***

    A weekter, in Arthur''s office, Firfel stood by the door, her gaze fixed on him as he leaned back in his chair. "You still haven''t returned my amulet..." she said, her voiceced with impatience.

    "Still researching it," Arthur replied, adding yfully, "Don''t worry, I''m not nning to run away with it."

    Firfel furrowed her brows. "You''ve been saying that for days now..."

    Arthur stood and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry about it. Would you like some tea?"

    Firfel blushed slightly. "Do you still have that ''Iron Goddess'' tea?"

    Arthurughed. "Ha! I knew you weren''t really here for the amulet. You came for the expensive tea!"

    "Where''s the amulet?" Firfel asked, blushing deeper.

    Arthur pinched her cheek. "Can''t take a joke, can you? Let me get the tea."

    Firfel pouted in response.

    Arthur smiled, watching her. He and Firfel had been meeting daily to discuss the "ancient amulet." Over time, the artifact had be a bridge between them, fostering their growing connection.

    After serving the tea, which had be Firfel''s favorite since trying it days ago, she asked, "Hey, will you really quit directing films?"

    Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you''ve read the news?"

    Firfel nodded. "I knew there would be a sequel for Lord of the Rings, so I wanted to ask..." She held back mentioning her love for ''Lord of the Rings'' and her concern about other directors taking over.

    "No, I won''t be quitting." Arthur smiled. He still had "Harry Potter," "Lord of the Rings," "Matrix," and other films to make.

    "I see..." Firfel nodded, visibly relieved.

    "I''m just hiring directors for the smaller projects. The bigger projects, I''ll direct those myself," Arthur exined.

    "When will you film those bigger projects?" Firfel asked.

    "Maybe in a few months. I really can''t say for sure," Arthur said, disappointing Firfel.

    "I''m currently busy with another venture. If you''re curious-" Arthur was about to tell Firfel about his ''anime'' venture when the door mmed open.

    "Hey, what venture!?"

    It was Vivienne.

    Arthur looked at her. "I know you''ve been eavesdropping."

    "Ah, just came here..." Vivienne said, embarrassed.

    Arthur chuckled. He''d sensed Vivienne eavesdropping for quite some time but hadn''t exposed her.

    "Well, now that you''re here, have some tea," Firfel invited. "Arthur will serve you one." She nudged him,municating with her eyes.

    With Firfel giving him that look, Arthur could onlyply. "Alright..."

 Chapter 140: Dubbing anime

    <h4>Chapter 140: Dubbing anime</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Vivienne noticed the dynamic between Arthur and Firfel. She felt something she couldn''t quite understand, but it was clearly... jealousy.

    Vivienne sat beside Firfel and chatted with her until Arthur returned with her tea.

    "So, what''s this venture you''re talking about?" Vivienne asked Arthur.

    Arthur sighed. He''d initially nned to invite only Firfel to join his "anime venture" - believing she''d make a good voice actor for testing theirpleted anime clips.

    But since Vivienne was here, he might as well invite her too.

    "Well, it''s about the ''anime studio.'' If you''re interested, you cane along," Arthur said to Vivienne.

    "Anime Studio?" Firfel and Vivienne exchanged confused looks.

    Arthur smiled. "Yes, it''s animation. Like the cartoons in Empirica."

    "Like Mr. Mouse?" Vivienne asked, sharing another nce with Firfel.

    "Something like that," Arthur said wryly. "The Anime Studio is still in its preparation stage. Two weeks ago, I hired dozens of artists to work on anime clips - some are alreadypleted."

    "Really? Let''s see!" Vivienne eximed.

    Arthur drove them in his car to a small rented building - his humble anime studio.

    When they entered, Firfel and Vivienne were surprised to find artists busy at work.

    What caught their attention most were the TVs and peculiar typewriters on each desk.

    Arthur smiled at their bewildered expressions.

    "Hey, aren''t those the things you showed us months ago?" Firfel recalled.

    Arthur nodded. He was less secretive now -puters were patented, and already revealed at the electronics expo.

    Besides, copying "Hellfire OS 1" would prove extremely difficult.

    "Those areputers," Arthur exined. "They help the artists create animation."

    The "Hellfire OS 1" came equipped with animation programs.

    All artists had signed NDAs through contract scrolls, magically preventing them from discussing their work with outsiders.

    "Demon lord!"

    The manager spotted Arthur mid-conversation. "We weren''t expecting you!"

    The artists looked up from their work.

    "Just checking on everyone''s progress," Arthur smiled.

    The manager and artists shared knowing chuckles.

    "This is Firfel and Vivienne," Arthur introduced. "They''re here to see ourpleted anime clips."

    The manager grinned at the two girls. "Wow, demon lord, you have two beautiful girlfriends."

    Firfel and Vivienne both blushed at thement.

    Arthur flicked the manager''s forehead, making him yelp, "That hurt!"

    Steve, the manager, felt the power behind that casual flick. Though it seemed gentle, the pain was surprisingly intense.

    "You deserved it," Arthur smiled. "These women are actresses from my agency. Show them proper respect."

    "Understood, demon lord!" Steve saluted.

    "Now, take us to the private room to view the anime clips," Arthur said.

    "Right away, demon lord!" Steve quickly obeyed.

    As they followed the manager, Firfel leaned close to Arthur. "Why does he call you ''demon lord''?"

    Vivienne, overhearing, perked up with curiosity.

    "Well..." Arthur chuckled, unsure how to exin properly.

    But he gave them the brief version:

    Two weeks ago, while searching for artists, Arthur encountered Steve.

    Back then, Steve had been a gang boss, running illegal operations.

    His gang employed artists to create counterfeit money. When Arthur started hiring artists with good pay, some of Steve''s artists secretly applied.

    This caught Steve''s attention, leading to a confrontation where Arthur defeated Steve and his gang. Now they worked at Hellfire''s anime studio.

    As Arthur told the story, Steve nearby blushed with embarrassment. "I really thought demon lord was an easy target back then. Didn''t expect him to beat me and my boys like that!"

    Firfel and Vivienne stared at Arthur in amazement.

    They reached the private room, where Steve used the projector to show theirpleted animation clips.

    The soundless clips of "Dragon Ball" and "Naruto" still impressed Firfel and Vivienne - the colored animations looked far more spectacr than famous cartoons like "Mr. Mouse".

    "What do you think? Impressive, huh?" Arthur smiled. Theputers had made such animation possible.

    "It''s incredible..." Firfel nodded in amazement.

    "So this is why you''re taking a break from directing? You''re focused on these animations?" Vivienne asked.

    "Yes," Arthur confirmed. "I believe animation has incredible potential."

    He continued, "And when televisions start selling throughout the Horn Kingdom, my channel 6.9 ''Hellfire'' will get high ratings thanks to these anime programs."

    Firfel, Vivienne, and even Steve exchanged confused looks.

    Arthur realized people in this world weren''t familiar with concepts like "TV ratings" and "channel programs."

    He patiently exined in simpler terms.

    "So you''re going through all this effort just to show these animations on television?" Vivienne asked skeptically.

    Firfel nodded. "Yeah... Isn''t television a risky business decision? The media says TV is just a waste of effort and money. They say many shows in Empirica went bankrupt because running them costs too much, with no profiting in."

    Arthur understood their doubts. It was true - channels in Empirica had closed due to financial losses.

    But that was because they hadn''t done things right, like securing advertisers and sponsors. Rather than exin theplexities, he simply said, "Don''t worry, I won''t rely solely on TV. We''ll sell copies of the anime episodes too, so we''ll still earn money."

    After discussing the technical aspects, Arthur led Firfel and Vivienne to the recording studio. "Here, you can voice characters for the anime."

    The soundproof studio featured anime clips projected onto a white wall.

    "Pick which character you''d like to voice," Arthur gestured at the ying animation.

    "I''ll voice that blue-haired girl," Firfel pointed at Bulma.

    "That''s Bulma," Arthur confirmed. "You can read her lines from the script on the stand while matching the character''s mouth movements."

    Firfel nodded.

    Vivienne took her turn next, choosing Sakura from the Naruto test clips.

    Firfel went first, attempting a thirty-second scene.

    She tried her best, but struggled to synchronize her voice with the character''s mouth movements.

    Through the recording booth''s ss, Arthur observed Firfel''s performance.

    "Did everything follow the guidelines for lip sync timing and dialogue pacing?" Arthur asked Steve.

    "Absolutely, demon lord!" Steve assured him. "I followed your instructions precisely!"

    Arthur nodded, then helped guide Firfel through the process. Gradually, she found her rhythm and voiced Bulma more naturally.

    "Excellent work!" Arthur praised.

    "Thanks," Firfel beamed.

    "My turn!" Vivienne rushed into the recording booth.

    They watched as Vivienne voiced Sakura. Though she also struggled initially, she seemed to have a natural talent for voice acting, adapting more quickly than Firfel had.

    Arthur nodded approvingly, wondering if Vivienne''s sess came from sharing personality traits with Sakura - both being passionate yet reserved, though he couldn''t be certain.

    "Let''s watch the clips with your voices added," Arthur suggested. He signaled the sound staff with a thumbs up, and they began processing the audio.

    Soon they viewed the Dragon Ball and Naruto scenes featuring Firfel and Vivienne''s voices.

    Watching their performances, Arthur thought, "They have great potential..."

    Firfel and Vivienne felt a unique satisfaction watching the anime clips with their voices.

    The feeling was simr to watching their movie performances, yet distinctly different.

    They turned to Arthur. "When will youplete the animations?" Firfel asked first.

    "Why? You seem excited," Arthur chuckled.

    Firfel nodded eagerly. "I really want to voice Bulma when the animation isplete! Can I?"

    "Of course," Arthur agreed. He''d already nned to cast her as Bulma, but Firfel had beaten him to suggesting it.

    "Me too!" Vivienne chimed in. "I had so much fun voicing Sakura!"

    "Alright, alright..." Arthur smiled. Though he hadn''t originally nned for Vivienne to voice Sakura, he now believed she''d be perfect for the role.

    "It''ll take a while before several episodes areplete," Arthur cautioned. "Plus, this anime studio isn''t registered as apany yet. We''re waiting for local government approval before hiring more artists."

    Firfel and Vivienne nodded in understanding.

 Chapter 141: Proposition to two giant companies

    <h4>Chapter 141: Proposition to two giantpanies</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The next day, Arthur visited to inspect theputer team''s color TV project.

    Just a week ago, Arthur had reverse-engineered the color TV himself, providing the blueprints and design specifications to theputer group for recreation.

    They''dpleted it today. Arthur examined the color television carefully.

    Theputer team felt a mix of pride and humility. After all, Arthur was the mastermind behind the color TV - they''d simply brought his vision to life.

    "What do you think, boss?" Drake asked. "Does it meet your expectations?"

    "It exceeds them," Arthur nodded with a smile. "This TV will impress my partners."

    Arthur nned to present the color TV to HOLLOW, a dwarf-ownedpany. They would handle the mass production that Arthur''s operation couldn''t manage alone.

    With the color TV already patented, he had no concerns about the presentation.

    ***

    The next day, Arthur prepared to meet with HOLLOW and Waves Corporation executives in a private room at Fantasia za''s finest restaurant.

    A dwarf in his thirties and a human representative were already waiting.

    Momentster, Arthur arrived and shook hands with the dwarf.

    The dwarf introduced himself as Dulo, HOLLOW''s representative, while the human was Harry from Waves Corporation.

    "It''s a pleasure to finally meet you both. This is an honor," Arthur greeted them warmly.

    Both men responded humbly, with Dulo saying, "No, the honor is ours."

    "Indeed," Harry agreed, adding, "Your name echoes throughout the entertainment industry. Your films are truly iconic masterpieces."

    "Thank you," Arthur epted their praise graciously as he took his seat.

    Once settled in their seats, Arthur addressed them. "As you know, I''m interested in establishing my own channel here in Horn Kingdom. I already have programs nned for the channel lineup."

    Dulo and Harry nodded attentively.

    "We''ve reviewed the documents and your detailed proposition," Harry said. "It''s quite ambitious, though risky."

    Arthur chuckled. "Oh, is Waves Corporation getting cold feet?"

    "Not at all," Harryughed. "In fact, we find everything you propose spectacr! The mercial'' concept - advertisements during show programs - and your other ideas for recovering channel operating costs and generating profit are fascinating."

    Arthur smiled, continuing his discussion with Harry for several minutes before turning to Dulo Fort.

    "Mr. Fort, you might be wondering why I invited you to this meeting," Arthur said with a knowing smile. "I actually have a product I''d like to show you back at my office."

    Dulo smiled. "I was starting to think I was just a third wheel here, listening to your conversation with Harry."

    Arthurughed heartily, joined by Harry''s chuckles.

    "So, what kind of product did you want to show me?" Dulo asked.

    "I''ll show you at my office. I guarantee you''ll be surprised," Arthur replied.

    "Now you''ve made me curious," Dulo chuckled.

    "Can I join?" Harry asked.

    Arthur turned to him. "Why not?"

    After enjoying their meal in the private room, Arthur led Harry and Dulo to hispany headquarters and into his office.

    As his guests wondered about the mystery product, Arthur approached a box-shaped object covered by a cloth.

    "Here it is," Arthur announced, lifting the white cloth to reveal a television.

    Looking at the television, Dulo and Harry exchanged confused nces.

    "Is this the product you wanted to show us?" Dulo asked. "It''s just a TV."

    "Yeah..." Harry nodded, hesitating. "Unless we''re missing something? Does it just look like a television?"

    Arthur smiled. "No, you''re both correct. It is indeed a television."

    This confirmation only deepened their confusion.

    "This..." Dulo said, disappointment creeping into his expression, "I don''t see anything special about it, Mr. Morningstar. It''s just an ordinary television."

    "I have to agree. Nothing seems new about it," Harry added.

    Arthur could tell they were silently questioning if this meeting had been a waste of time.

    "Well, it is a television," Arthur said, "but one quite different from what you know."

    As Dulo and Harry exchanged puzzled looks, Arthur reached for the power switch.

    The screen flickered to life with static, before disying a vibrant test pattern of rainbow stripes with "No Signal" oveid.

    Though it was just a simple test screen, both Dulo and Harry jumped from their seats.

    "It''s in color!" they eximed in unison.

    Their shock was understandable. Until now, televisions had only disyed images in ck and white. Majorpanies had tried and failed to develop color TV technology.

    Arthur nodded, a satisfied smile ying on his lips. "That''s right. This is mypany''stest invention - the color television."

    "Can it y color films?" Harry asked, still amazed.

    "Even if it shows color, there''s no way to y film strips on television," Dulo exined. "The format for TV doesn''t exist yet."

    Arthur''s smile widened. "Actually, it can y films."

    "It can read film strips?" Dulo asked, shocked.

    "Not exactly," Arthur said. "Wait here."

    He left the office, retrieving a VHS tape and yer from his system storage. Both were recreated by hisputer team, with the tape containing "The Demonfather."

    When he returned, he found Dulo and Harry leaning close to the color TV, examining it with fascination. "I''m back."

    They turned to see Arthur carrying mysterious equipment.

    "What''s that?" Dulo asked.

    "Just watch," Arthur replied. Under their curious observation, he connected the VHS yer to the TV.

    After inserting a magic core into the VHS yer, Arthur slid in the tape.

    Dulo and Harry watched in bewilderment as the TV flickered to life, beginning to y "The Demonfather" in full color and sound.

    They stood speechless for several minutes, stunned by the demonstration.

    Finally regaining hisposure, Dulo asked, "Mr. Morningstar... Is that film-ying device also yourpany''s invention?"

    "That''s right," Arthur nodded. "This is called a VHS yer," he exined, then pointed to the cassette. "And this is a VHS tape."

    Harry and Dulo exchanged meaningful nces before diving into business discussions about the color TV, VHS yer, and tapes.

    Arthur smiled at their enthusiasm.

    "The VHS yer and tapes are incredible inventions! Waves Corporation would be eager to mass produce and distribute them worldwide!" Harry eximed.

    Noticing Arthur''s calcted silence, Dulo asked, "Since you''ve shown us these inventions, I assume you have a business proposition?"

    "Indeed," Arthur confirmed. "While I''m open to negotiating rights for these inventions, I have certain conditions. If met, I''ll only request minimal royalty fees and a reasonable upfront payment."

    "What are your terms?" Dulo asked eagerly.

    "I want to acquire specific patent rights from HOLLOW regarding television technology," Arthur said, then turned to Harry. "And purchase certain frequency and signal patents from Waves Corporation."

    Arthur''s strategy was clear. He needed HOLLOW''s TV rights to sellputers without paying monitor royalties - while HOLLOW hadn''t invented television, they owned most rights after purchasing them from Empirica.

    He also sought the wirelessmunication and transmission patents, ensuring his future inte development wouldn''t conflict with existing technologies, even though these patents weren''t core to inte functionality.

    Harry and Dulo exchanged meaningful nces at Arthur''s request.

    "That couldplicate matters, Mr. Morningstar," Dulo said carefully.

    Harry nodded. "May I ask why you''re interested in these specific patents?"

    "I''m nning to establish my own electronicspany," Arthur replied with a measured smile.

    Dulo and Harry nodded in understanding. "I''ll need to consult with the higher-ups about this," Dulo said, rising from his chair. "I hope we can reach an agreement, Mr. Morningstar."

    "As do I," Arthur agreed.

    "I''ll also need to discuss this with management. Such decisions are beyond my authority," Harry added.

    Arthur nodded his understanding before escorting his potential business partners out.

    With everything set in motion, Arthur simply needed to wait for events to unfold. Soon, his color televisions would spread throughout the Horn Kingdom, and his Hellfire channel would broadcast into homes across the nation.

    He felt no concern about HOLLOW and Waves Corporation refusing his terms. After all, he only sought minor technology patents in exchange for groundbreaking innovations. The color television, VHS yer, and VHS tapes were too valuable an opportunity for any business to pass up.

 Chapter 142: Losing control

    <h4>Chapter 142: Losing control</h4>

    (Raff Diamond POV)

    Weeks have passed without a trace of that damn noble demon.

    It''s been nothing but headaches - my men have investigated every shady connection around my son, Caleb, with no results to show for it.

    Even the drug trafficker involved with my son confirmed he hadn''t ordered any hit on Caleb over unpaid narcotics.

    "Commissioner." A police officer entered my office clutching documents.

    "Any progress with my son''s case? Has Arthur agreed to settle out of court?" I demanded.

    "Unfortunately, Arthur remains uncooperative," the officer shook his head. "We tried negotiating with him - and even the thugs we sent to teach that uppity filmmaker a lesson ended up beaten senseless."

    "Arthur''s martial arts skills were unexpected," I said, irritation creeping into my voice. "I suppose while he''s weak in magic, he makes up for it inbat ability."

    "Indeed," the officer agreed, then added, "Though we can''t stop Arthur, we''ve sessfully intimidated most potential witnesses against Caleb, sir."

    "That''s something at least," I nodded.

    "But one witness won''t back down, sir," the police officer said, looking uneasy.

    "Who?"

    The officer hesitated before answering, "The subus named Alissa - the woman your son Caleb was obsessed with."

    "That damned woman," I growled through clenched teeth.

    "The Horn Kingdom Court hearing is approaching. We must silence that woman!" I mmed my fist on the desk.

    "..." The police officer fell quiet, then said, "I apologize, sir, but... she''s missing. We can''t locate her."

    "Useless!" I shouted. "Then find her!"

    "Yes, sir!" The officer saluted and hurried out.

    Damn it...

    Arthur must be the one hiding her from us!

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    In Arthur''s penthouse, Alissa paced nervously. She''d been living here for quite some time now.

    With the Horn Kingdom Court hearing only days away, she couldn''t shake her concerns despite Arthur''s assurances of safety.

    Though determined to testify against Caleb''s crimes, she knew all too well the power of his connections.

    The Diamond family wielded considerable influence in Horn Kingdom - especially Caleb''s father, Commissioner Raff, who posed the greatest threat.

    Around noon, footsteps echoed from the penthouse entrance. Alissa''s heart raced - her paranoia instantly assuming police had found her location.

    She ducked into hiding, then breathed a sigh of relief when Arthur''s voice reached her ears.

    Her eyes widened at the sight of Clint and Benny beside him.

    "Clint! Benny!" Alissa eximed. She hadn''t seen them in weeks, not since visiting them in the hospital.

    "Alissa!" Relief and joy flooded Clint''s face.

    Benny hung back awkwardly as Clint and Alissa embraced.

    Arthur shook his head at the disy, though he couldn''t help but smile. It was good to see Alissa happy again after days of watching her live in fear.

    "I thought you might be getting lonely here, so I brought these two along," Arthur exined.

    "Thank you so much!" Alissa''s gratitude was genuine.

    "I should be thanking you," Arthur replied, "for standing firm against Caleb and agreeing to testify."

    Alissa smiled warmly as Clint squeezed her hand. "I''m just d you''re safe," he said softly.

    She nodded, fighting back tears.

    "She''s been quite paranoidtely - hiding at the slightest noise. The police harassment has taken its toll," Arthur told Clint and Benny. "Take good care of her."

    "I''ll protect her with my life, boss," Clint promised, his smile determined.

    ***

    October 17, 1272 marked the beginning of Horn Kingdom''s most anticipated and controversial court case.

    The courthouse steps teemed with reporters and divided crowds - supporters split between Caleb and the duo of Clint and Benny.

    It had be the kingdom''s biggest scandal to date.

    "Caleb is innocent! Caleb is innocent!" chanted a group of his supporters gathered nearby.

    Most were paid actors - hired by Commissioner Diamond to inte the numbers and overshadow the genuine fans supporting Clint and Benny.

    "Do you believe Caleb capable of such violence?" a reporter asked Clint and Benny''s supporters, who stood defiantly near Caleb''s group.

    "Absolutely!" dered a demon dressed as Blondie from ''The Good, The Bad and The Ugly'' - clearly a Clint fan. "I know someone who''s seen Caleb at drug dens! He''s notorious for harassing women too!"

    "That''s right!" added a dwarf wearing Benny''s signature style. "Everyone knows about Caleb''s reputation with women!"

    "But isn''t that natural for someone part incubus?" the reporter pressed.

    "Doesn''t matter," the dwarf shot back. "Caleb''s going to prison where he belongs!"

    "Maybe he''ll finally get an audience there - unlike his empty concerts!" another fan quipped.

    Laughter rippled through the crowd, even drawing chuckles from reporters. Nearby, Caleb''s few genuine supporters seethed with anger.

    The tension between groups was palpable.

    A sleek car pulled up to the courthouse steps. Caleb emerged with his legal team, immediately swarmed by reporters.

    "I-I''m innocent... I don''t understand why Clint and Benny are doing this to me..." Caleb stammered, ying the victim.

    After fielding questions and waving to his supporters, he disappeared into the courthouse.

    Momentster, another car arrived. Clint and Benny stepped out with theirwyers, faced the barrage of questions, then made their way inside.

    ***

    Inside the courtroom, tension hung thick in the air. Raff sat close to his son Caleb''s side, radiating quiet confidence.

    He nced at Alissa across the aisle. One witness didn''t concern him.

    After all, without substantial evidence, he expected the case would be dismissed.

    The court proceedings began with opening statements.

    While Caleb''s attorney proimed his client''s innocence, Clint and Benny''s legal team presentedpelling medical evidence of their injuries. Hospital records, photographs, and expert testimony painted a clear picture of the assault. But the turning point came when Alissa took the witness stand.

    Caleb red at her, betrayal and anger evident in his expression. ''Why, Alissa...'' His fists clenched beneath the table.

    As Alissa testified, reporters scribbled frantically, shocked by her graphic description of events. She detailed Caleb''s persistent harassment, her voice steady and clear.

    Caleb''swyer tried to find holes in her testimony, but Alissa had prepared well, referring to her written statement to ensure precision.

    Just as the judge and jury seemed unconvinced by her testimony alone, Alissa revealed her trump card.

    She disclosed her months-long rtionship with Caleb, producing evidence that left no room for denial.

    This blindsided even Raff.

    Alissa presented gifts from Caleb, including personal items of deep significance to him.

    While Raff knew such evidence could still be contested, his son''sposure cracked.

    Caleb leaped to his feet, pointing usingly at Alissa. "Why! Why would you do this to me?!"

    Before anyone could intervene, he continued his outburst: "Why would you betray me and side with those bastards?!"

    Arthur watched from his seat, having anticipated this very reaction. He''d helped Alissa craft her testimony to provoke exactly this response.

    She knew Caleb''s tendency to lose control when cornered.

    The strategy had worked perfectly. Alissa caught Arthur''s eye, and they exchanged subtle nods of understanding.

    "I don''t want you, Caleb! You''re a deranged demon! The one I love is Clint Foster!" Alissa''s deration rang through the courtroom.

    "Wh-what did you say?!" Caleb lunged forward, barely restrained by hiswyers. "You worthless witch! You''d choose a lowly actor over me?!"

    "Control yourself, Caleb!" Raff''smand fell on deaf ears.

    Raff nced desperately at the judge, who remained seated, secretly engrossed in the unfolding drama.

    "You''re obsessed! Is that why you beat them so brutally?!" Alissa challenged.

    "That''s right!" Caleb snarled, forgetting himself entirely. "No one can have you but me! I''ll kill anyone who tries!"

    His confession echoed through the court''s recording system - a devastating slip.

    Reporters'' pens flew across their notepads, capturing every damning word.

    Arthur concealed a satisfied smile. His gambit had worked perfectly - without provoking Caleb through Alissa, securing a conviction would have been nearly impossible.

    The case had shifted dramatically in his actors'' favor.

    Even if Caleb''swyers managed to argue their way out of an immediate guilty verdict, the foundation wasid. One more push would be all it took for Caleb topletely incriminate himself.

 Chapter 143: Surprise after surprise

    <h4>Chapter 143: Surprise after surprise</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Days after Caleb''s unconscious confession, the verdict arrived - guilty. He faced heavy fines for assault and several months of imprisonment.

    The news sent shockwaves through Horn Kingdom and neighboring realms where Caleb had held influence.

    Meanwhile, Clint, Benny, and their supporters celebrated justice being served.

    Arthur hosted a victory celebration for his actors - the atmosphere electric with relief and joy. Clint and Benny lost themselves in drink, Alissa joining in their revelry.

    Beside Arthur, Firfel watched Alissa. "She seems to be recovering well from her ordeal with Caleb."

    "I still see worry in her eyes," Vivienne observed.

    "Understandable. Caleb''s sentence is only months long, and his father Raff still holds power. Alissa has reason to be concerned," Arthur said, sipping his drink.

    "Poor girl," Firfel sighed. "Can you keep protecting her?"

    "Yes, Arthur," Vivienne''s usually yful tone turned serious. "I hope you''ll continue supporting her, even though she''s finished testifying."

    Arthur smiled warmly. "Don''t worry. I''ll look after her," he promised.

    "You should be careful too, Arthur," Firfel cautioned. "Themissioner won''t take his son''s imprisonment lightly. His reputation suggests he holds grudges."

    Arthur''s grin held an edge of steel. "Don''t worry. Thatmissioner is a small fry."

    "Big words," Vivienne chuckled.

    Firfel smiled, assuming Arthur was merely putting on a brave face to ease their concerns.

    Arthur remained quiet. He knew Raff would cause trouble eventually.

    But he felt no fear. His training in the Dragon Ball world had strengthened both his martial arts and his body beyond anything themissioner could imagine.

    ***

    The next day in the Dragon Ball world, Arthur faced Goku as the tournament crowd watched in awe.

    Roshi adjusted his sses, studying the fight with growing amazement. ''Fascinating... Previously, Arthur couldn''t have dominated Goku like this - but now...'' He leaned forward. ''Now Goku is struggling against him.''

    On stage, Arthur''s punch caught Goku squarely in the face, sending him flying. Goku managed to right himself mid-air.

    Rubbing the bruise on his cheek, Goku grinned. "Hehe, you''re the strongest opponent I''ve ever met!"

    Arthur smiled, handling Goku with apparent ease.

    This mastery came from countless battles with Goku - Arthur had exploited his "save file" ability repeatedly, loading back to before each fight started.

    Through these iterations, Arthur had memorized Goku''s patterns, movements, and fighting style.

    Though Goku held a slight edge in raw power, Arthur countered him like a seasoned veteran.

    Yet Goku himself wasn''t the real challenge. Arthur''s numerous attempts stemmed from preparing for Goku''s "Great Ape" transformation.

    Even knowing Goku''s moves, victory proved difficult. The young Saiyan''s stubborn nature and natural durability let him weather tremendous punishment.

    Despite his exhaustion, Goku''s eyes zed with determination.

    Then the moment arrived - Goku''s Great Ape transformation began.

    As the crowd scattered, Arthur muttered, "This is it..." He''d prepared extensively for this moment.

    The Great Ape''s roar shook the arena. Arthur dodged its massive stomp, weaving through devastating attacks until he found his opening - severing Goku''s tail with precise timing.

    Goku crashed to the ground, reverting to human form.

    As the audience cautiously returned, Bulma, Yamcha, Roshi, and Krillin stared in shock at Goku''s prone form.

    "You monster! You killed him!" Bulma screamed, misunderstanding the situation.

    "Goku!" Puar and Oolong cried out in concern.

    "Don''t worry, he''s fine!" Arthur assured them.

    Momentster, Goku stirred, confused about his missing tail and sudden nudity.

    Relief washed over his friends'' faces.

    The battle resumed, but with his stamina depleted and tail gone, Goku finally sumbed to exhaustion.

    "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the 21st Martial Arts Tournament - Arthur Pendragon!" The announcer''s voice boomed as the crowd erupted in cheers.

    Roshi and the others helped Goku to his feet.

    "That was an amazing fight, hehe..." Goku said, leaning on Krillin for support. He looked at Arthur with bright eyes. "I hope to fight you again..."

    Arthur smiled at their exchange when system notifications appeared before him.

    [You have sessfullypleted your mission and be the winner of the 21st martial arts tournament without using magic!]

    [Reward: +2 Senzu Beans. 10 percent proficiency of Creator''s Realms ability. 10 percent proficiency of Primal Morningstar ability. +1 divine point.]

    Arthur examined the rewards, particrly intrigued by the "divine points." This new system function had unlocked a divine store, offering fictional skills, items, and artifacts from worlds he''d visited.

    Surprisingly, the store also allowed him to reward potential worshippers - though Arthur wondered who would ever worship him.

    ***

    Back in reality, Arthur finalized his agreement with HOLLOW and Waves Corporation.

    Bothpanies, excited by the revolutionary products, readily epted Arthur''s terms. Their eagerness for the technology gave him considerable leverage in negotiations.

    Production lines started immediately for color TVs and VHS yers.

    Waves Corporation also agreed to distribute Arthur''s films and James ze''s music on VHS tapes.

    Meanwhile, Hellfire Studio heavily promoted their new film, "Enter the Dragon" throughout the kingdom.

    Public opinion remained skeptical. Even loyal Hellfire fans expressed doubts.

    "It wasn''t directed by Arthur - doubt it''ll be any good," an imp demon remarked, studying the film''s poster.

    "Yeah. I''d have more faith if the exiled prince made it..." a dwarf shook his head.

    "I know the director - Amon Oblivion from Morningstar. He might surprise us," offered someone familiar with the industry.

    Despite widespread skepticism and media outlets fueling doubts, advance tickets sold well. Though Arthur hadn''t directed it, his name as writer drew his dedicated fans.

    ***

    "Enter the Dragon" premiered in Horn Kingdom, then swept across continents the next day - screening simultaneously in Morningstar, Thorn Kingdom, Japon, Choson, Bharat Kingdom, and Empirica.

    The film''s sess was immediate - earning 8 million dors on opening day, then surging to 29 million on its second day.

    As days passed, the box office numbers continued climbing, outperforming even VFX-heavy blockbusters from industry giants like Science Pictures and Loop Records.

    The film resonated particrly strongly across Anatolia - dominating markets in Morningstar, Thorn, Japon, Choson, and Bharat.

    Empirica''s response proved more modest, yet the film sparked an unexpected cultural shift - igniting widespread interest in martial arts.

    In Angels City, Empirica, martial arts academies found themselves flooded with new enrollments.

    Simr waves swept through Morningstar, Horn, Thorn, Japon, and Choson.

    "I want to be Bruce Lee!" became amon cry among eager teenagers.

    Even adults could be caught mimicking Bruce Lee''s signature moves.

    The name "Bruce Lee" spread rapidly through the kingdoms. His prominence in "Enter the Dragon" was undeniable, his name featured boldly on posters alongside Arthur and Amon''s.

    His impact reached far beyond box office numbers. He inspired countless admirers to pursue martial arts - though one young student, Jackie Chan, took a different path.

    Mesmerized by the film, Jackie abandoned his martial arts school - infuriating the Chan family.

    Yet he remained determined to follow Bruce Lee''s footsteps, not as a martial artist, but as an actor who could bring martial arts to the screen.

    ***

    Weeks passed since "Enter the Dragon''s" debut. By November 28, 1272, as the film''s poprity naturally declined, HOLLOW and Waves Corporation hosted a joint conference that would change entertainment forever.

    The gathered reporters fell silent as thepanies revealed their groundbreaking products - a color television and VHS yer.

    "This is extraordinary!" a reporter eximed.

    "The picture quality is incredible - films ying on TV in perfect color!" another journalist marveled, studying the disy.

    "Unlike projectors with their dim images andplicated setup, our TV delivers crystal-clear, colored pictures at the touch of a button," the HOLLOW executive exined.

    The reporters watched, transfixed.

    The Waves Corporation executive stepped forward. "The VHS yer makes it all possible. Thesepact tapes store entire films, ready to y in perfect color whenever you wish!"

    "The Demonfather" continued ying on screen, demonstrating the system''s capabilities.

    When asked about the initial release location, the announcement surprised the press corps - Horn Kingdom would receive the technology first.

    "Horn Kingdom? Why not Empirica or the Mech Nation?" a reporter questioned.

    Una, HOLLOW''s CEO, smiled. "Because we owe this innovation to Arthur Morningstar, a Horn citizen. This color TV and VHS yer are his creations. It''s only fitting tounch in the inventor''s homnd."

    The revtion sent a ripple of astonishment through the assembled press.

 Chapter 144: Telenovela on Hellfire channel

    <h4>Chapter 144: Telenov on Hellfire channel</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Following the HOLLOW-Waves announcement, color TVs and VHS yers hit Horn Kingdom markets on December 10, 1272.

    Waves Corporation took a hands-off approach to marketing, letting HOLLOW handle the promotional campaign.

    HOLLOW focused primarily on television sales, knowing VHS yers would naturally follow - after all, the yers were useless without TVs to connect them to.

    Across Horn Kingdom, posters appeared showing happy families gathered around color TVs. HOLLOW dominated the kingdom''s billboards with their advertising.

    Public reaction to the TV promotions varied widely. At a food stall, a group of employees studied a nearby billboard. "Have you heard about these TVs?" a white-cor dwarf asked between bites. "They say they''re better than projectors..."

    An imp demon scoffed. "Yeah, but look at that price tag," he gestured toward the billboard.

    The prices were prominently disyed: "25 dors" for small TVs, "45 dors" forrge models.

    "That''s two weeks'' sry right there..." someone muttered dejectedly.

    "Definitely not cheap..." the dwarf agreed.

    Outside HOLLOW''s new TV stores, crowds gathered at the disy windows. Inside, multiple TVs yed "The Demonfather" in vivid color, drawing curious onlookers.

    "Wow... Mom, can we get one?" a young girl tugged at her mother''s sleeve.

    Her mother nced at the price tag and gently steered her away. "Let''s look somewhere else, honey."

    Most people simply stood watching the synchronized TVs ying "The Demonfather," the price keeping them outside. But asionally, wealthy customers emerged with boxed televisions, drawing envious nces from the crowd.

    Those who could afford it followed suit, entering the store with determination and leaving with their own sets.

    The color TV remained a luxury item, affordable mainly to the wealthy and white-cor workers. Yet ironically, it was priced lower than its ck-and-white predecessor.

    The stark differencey in consumer interest - while people eagerly sought the color TV, theypletely shunned the ck-and-white model.

    This shift urred despite persistent negative media coverage of television technology.

    Yet now, even with continuing media criticism, color TV dominated public conversation.

    First-day sales proved remarkable - the small TV model brought in 154 thousand dors, while therger model earned 244 thousand dors.

    These figures marked a stunning breakthrough for HOLLOW. Their previous ck-and-white TVunch in Horn Kingdom had barely reached 50 thousand dors in opening day sales.

    The pattern extended beyond Horn Kingdom - across Anatolia, ck-and-white TVs had failed to gain traction.

    HOLLOW had been forced to halt ck-and-white production entirely.

    Where their previous TV venture had ended in disaster, color television seemed poised to reverse their fortunes.

    ***

    Early TV buyers rushed to watch their favorite films, only to discover a limited selection - all VHS tapes came exclusively from Hellfire Studio. Though the quality was undeniable, viewers craved more variety.

    Moreover, the TV''s dependence on VHS yers created another hurdle. Without a VHS yer, the TV remained essentially unusable.

    Media outlets pounced on these limitations:

    "New Technology, Color TV, Useless Without VHS yer"

    "TV: An Expensive Paperweight"

    "Television, Colored or Not, Still Worthless - Buyer''s Remorse Sets In"

    In Hellfire Studio''s headquarters, Arthur discussed signal allocation with Waves Corporation representatives - specifically requesting channel "6" for the Hellfire Channel.

    The number "6" held special significance for demons.

    Waves Corporation''s recently constructed towers, along with their existing ones, would transfer to Hellfire Studio under their agreement.

    After concluding negotiations with the Waves representative, Arthur reviewed the tower ownership documents.

    "Everything''s falling into ce... Soon, every TV in Horn Kingdom will broadcast my channel..." he mused, studying the paperwork.

    Within days, "Hellfire" channel 6 would begin operations.

    Beyond channel 6, Arthur had secured channels 1, 2, and 7 - all under the Hellfire brand.

    The studio''s newly hired directors had split their focus - while Damien and two others handled films, the remaining five each developed telenovs. They''d produced enough episodes to fill daily programming slots, nning to repeat broadcasts to cover all hours.

    Meanwhile, "Hellfire Got Talent" preparations continued, with a section of the VFX Studio designated for the show.

    ***

    As color TV sales began to slump, buyers echoed media criticism about TVs being useless without VHS yers.

    Then HOLLOW and Hellfire''s announcement changed everything - television viewing without VHS yers.

    The news sparked skeptical curiosity across the kingdom. "Hellfire channel? What could they possibly show?"

    "Maybe they''ll just air their old films?"

    "Like Demonfather? We''ve seen that already. If it''s just their existing films, TV''s still not worth buying."

    "Yeah, and once they run out of films, what then?"

    Public doubt ran deep, but change wasing.

    TV owners, particrly those who''d bought into the technological hype, eagerly explored this new "Hellfire" channel.

    In one household, a wife watched her husband fiddle with their TV. "I told you to sell that useless thing! It''s worthless without that yer device!"

    Her husband smiled sheepishly. "Come on, honey - there''s something new about the TV! They say we can watch shows without the VHS yer now..."

    "We cancelled Horn''s Daily subscription for this contraption, so it better be worth it," she muttered, settling beside him on the couch.

    The TV flickered as her husband fumbled with the remote. "Number 6... where''s channel 6?"

    "Right here," his wife pointed to the button.

    "Ah, there it is..." He scratched his head, embarrassed.

    The TV switched to channel 6, initially showing static.

    Noticing his wife''s deepening frown, he quickly added, "The newspaper said we need to adjust the antenna." He reached up to the TV top, tweaking the antenna.

    Slowly, the static faded away, unveiling a scene in the hospital.

    "See? We can watch without the VHS!" he dered proudly.

    His wife remained unimpressed.

    Deted, he sat back down beside her.

    As they watched, he realized this wasn''t Hellfire''s usual film fare.

    "What kind of story is this?" his wife asked.

    "I... I''m not sure... But it''s rather engaging..." he ventured cautiously, watching her reaction.

    Bracing for criticism about the program''s quality, he was startled when she nodded. "It really is interesting..."

    He stared at his wife in surprise.

    The plot followed Kassandra, a young woman stolen as a baby and raised by a traveling circus instead of her wealthy birth family, the victim of a vengeful scheme.

    The wife leaned forward,pletely absorbed as Kassandra discovered hints about her true identity in this first episode. Her husband watched her reaction with growing satisfaction, finding himself equally drawn into the story.

    This couple wasn''t alone in their surprise at the Hellfire channel''s offering.

    Across the kingdom, other TV owners found themselves captivated by the unfolding drama.

    Initially, viewers wondered about the title of this engaging ''film'' - until the Hellfire channel cut to a mercial break,'' revealing the name "Kassandra."

    Finally, they had a name for this fascinating story that had captured their attention. No one yet used the term "telenov" - that wouldeter - but something new had begun.

    ***

    Across Horn Kingdom, media moguls celebrated what they perceived as the color TV''s decline.

    They congratted themselves, believing their negative press had sessfully turned the public against this "new technology."

    What they failed to notice was the growing excitement among TV owners watching Hellfire channel''s programs - "I Am Betty, The Ugly," "Kassandra," "The Rich Also Cry," "Isaura: ve Girl," and "The Clone" had created a devoted following.

    While the audience skewed heavily female, this proved advantageous for Hellfire channel''s growth. Women''s socialworks spread news faster than any advertisement could manage.

    The same madames who''d criticized their wealthy husbands for buying televisions now boasted about them at social gatherings.

    Within days of Hellfire''sunch, the channel dominated conversations in housewife circles.

    "Did you see yesterday''s Kassandra?" one would ask excitedly during afternoon tea.

    "Oh yes! I couldn''t tear myself away!" another would respond. "My husband tried to discuss business matters, but I shushed him until it finished!"

    These conversations repeated across the kingdom, at market squares, social clubs, and garden parties - anywhere women gathered to share theirtest viewing experiences.

 Chapter 145: Commercial

    <h4>Chapter 145: Commercial</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The president of Waves Corporation''s Anatolia region, Alfred Gold, a demon from Thorn Kingdom, sat across from me in my office.

    "Your channelunched a few days ago, and our Horn Kingdom sales have seen a slight increase. Though we can''t definitively link it to your channel''smercial breaks," Alfred said, settlingfortably in his chair. "As president of Waves Anatolia, I''m uncertain about payment calctions. We have no way to determine viewer numbers."

    I poured him expensive tea. "I''m confident your sales increase directly rtes to my channel''smercials."

    "Oh? How so?" Alfred''s curiosity peaked.

    Leaning back in my chair, I exined, "Beforeunching Hellfire channel, I established Pendragon Rating."

    "Pendragon... Rating?" Alfred muttered, just loud enough for me to catch.

    "Yes," I nodded. "Pendragon is my new surname, recing Morningstar. My family''s continued rejection made the change necessary."

    Alfred nodded. "I see, but what exactly is this Pendragon Rating?"

    I smiled. "Beforeunching Hellfire channel, Pendragon Rating was already operational with full staff. We approached 1,000 TV-owning families and convinced them to maintain ''Viewer Diaries,'' recording their daily viewing habits."

    Alfred nodded, though confusion still lingered in his expression. I continued, "My team also conducts telephone surveys, randomly calling households to learn what they''re watching."

    "Hmm..." Alfred stroked his chin thoughtfully.

    "Then we apply statistical extraption," I added.

    "Stati- what now?" Alfred asked, clearly lost.

    I chuckled before breaking down the concept in simpler terms.

    A few minutester, Alfred''s eyes lit with understanding. "So through all these processes, your Pendragon Rating can estimate viewer numbers and how many households watch each program?"

    I noted his intrigue in my rating methods. "Yes, and our data shows the majority of TV owners are watching almost all Hellfire channel programs."

    Alfred fell silent beforementing, "These rating methods are incredibly clever - far more efficient than Empirica''splicated systems."

    "Indeed." I nodded, secretly grateful to Arthur Nielsen, whose rating system I''d borrowed from my previous life.

    "Here''s my channel''s current rating data," I said, sliding the paper across.

    Alfred studied the numbers. "These ratings aren''t manipted, correct?"

    "Of course not," I chuckled. "That''s our honest estimation. Feel free to survey the kingdom yourself about their viewing habits."

    Alfred nodded. "Based on these numbers, we owe you about two thousand dors daily for promotion. With four days passed, that''s roughly 8-10 thousand dors."

    "Quite affordablepared to newspaper ads, isn''t it?" I whispered with devilish charm. "And far more effective."

    Alfred couldn''t disagree.

    "Now, with my channel''s sess," I continued, "we can have HOLLOW''s ''Finance Times'' report on it. Ourpanies will profit - after all, Hellfire shares patent rights to Waves Corporation''s signal technology. Others will want their own signal towers, bringing more contracts to Waves Corporation."

    "Sounds like a n," Alfred smiled, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

    True enough - Hellfire''s sess would drive demand for signal towers. With minimal regtions governing channels and tower construction, establishing new stations would be straightforward.

    And while I owned some signal patents, Waves Corporation would handle the actual tower construction, ensuring their continued profits.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Since Hellfire channel''sunch, media outlets had relentlessly attacked Arthur.

    <i>"Hellfire Channel Days Old: Experts Predict Copse Within Weeks - Another Misstep by Exiled Prince Arthur"</i>

    <i>"Was Arthur Morningstar Manipted by HOLLOW to Create Channel and Programs for TV Sales? Experts question whether the colored TV and VHS yer were truly inventions of Arthur."</i>

    Such headlines dominated Horn Kingdom''s newspapers. Then came an exception - "Finance Times," the premier publication for businessmen and investors, ran a striking front page: <i>"Hellfire Channel''s Remarkable Sess - Reports Show Near-Universal Viewership Across All Programs"</i>

    This praise stood in stark contrast to the wave of criticism flooding other papers.

    While Finance Times held limited appeal amongmon citizens, that wasn''t Arthur''s target. He aimed for businessmen and investors - Finance Times'' core readership - hoping to attract potential clients for Hellfire channel''smercial slots.

    ***

    (Ivan Rook POV)

    In my study, I reviewed thetest Finance Times edition, searching for investment opportunities and pitfalls.

    Finance Times had earned its reputation for exposing corporate scandals and predicting market trends. Its analysis had saved countless investors from disaster.

    Today''s headline left me underwhelmed, though I felt relieved seeing no mention of Rook Automobiles in any scandal reports or critical reviews that might affect our stock prices.

    "Hellfire channel?" I muttered, scanning the main article. "Hardly seems an effective advertising tform."

    Surely other businessmen shared my skepticism about television. Everyone knew TV was a poor investment.

    I''d bought one myself, caught up in the technological novelty - mainly to watch "The Demonfather" in better quality. But as an advertising medium? Doubtful.

    Setting aside the newspaper, I focused onpany documents, signing some contracts and discarding others. After two hours of work, I stretched and headed downstairs.

    Approaching the living room, I heard unexpectedmotion.

    "You despicable woman!" my wife''s voice rang out.

    My heart jumped. ''<i>Is she in danger?''</i>

    I rushed down the remaining stairs, bursting into the living room ready for confrontation.

    Instead, I found my wife on the couch, pounding the armrest in frustration.

    "How dare she threaten Mariana like that! That scheming witch!"

    I stood frozen, watching my normallyposed wifepletely absorbed in the drama.

    "No! Not amercial break now!" she protested as the screen shifted.

    As the show''s title "The Rich Also Cry" shed across the screen, my wife continued her passionate outburst.

    "Honey, please... it''s just a television program..." I ventured carefully.

    Mercy turned to me, her eyes shing with annoyance. "What now?"

    I retreated slightly, approaching her like a cornered beast before carefully settling beside her. "It''s just... you seem rather invested in this program. I''ve never seen you loseposure like this."

    This was shockinging from Mercy. She''d always maintained the perfect image of a noble demondy, raised in wealth with impable manners and eloquence.

    Mercy sighed, smoothing her dress as she collected herself. "I must apologize for my unseemly behavior. These dramatic tales they call ''telenovs'' have a way of stirring one''s emotions quite unexpectedly."

    "Telenov?" I questioned the unfamiliar term.

    "Ah," Mercy''sposure returned slightly. "It''s Arthur''s term for these dramatic programs on the Hellfire channel."

    "I see..." I nodded, turning my attention to the screen with newfound curiosity.

    Amercial yed - James ze and his band performing. The scene shifted to show him inserting a VHS tape, the TV disying a music video while text appeared: <strong>{James ze songs, now avable in VHS Tape format! Current 10% discount at all music stores!}</strong>

    While I barely registered the advertisement, Mercy''s eyes lit up at the word "discount." She turned to me with practiced charm,ying a delicate hand on my arm. "Darling, might I trouble you to purchase some of James ze''s music tapes?"

    Her sudden switch to courtly manners wasn''t lost on me.

    I stared at her, baffled. "But you''ve always disliked his music. Didn''t you call him a ''talentless showboat''st month?"

    "This is entirely different!" Arianna protested. "Being able to watch the performance while listening to the music - it''s intriguing!"

    Ah. The ''music video'' concept had captured her interest.

    "Fine, I''ll get you the tapes," I conceded with a sigh.

    "You''re wonderful!" Arianna nted a kiss on my cheek, leaving me grinning like a fool.

    Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

    <i>''The TV advertising actually works!''</i>

    The realization struck just as my wife turned back to the screen, her expression intense as the telenov resumed. Finance Times hadn''t exaggerated - television promotion was devastatingly effective.

    I rose to leave, my mind racing with ns to secure advertising slots. Arianna didn''t even notice my departure,pletely engrossed in her program.

    <i>''Mypetitors haven''t realized television''s potential yet. This is the perfect moment to act,'' </i>I thought, already calcting the possibilities.

 Chapter 146: Donâ€™t be annoying

    <h4>Chapter 146: Don''t be annoying</h4>

    There''s this annoying ount that keeps asking for a tranted version of my novel, even though it''s an original work. He/she even lie, iming I deleted his/herments, which is really frustrating. I can''t tell if it''s a bot or just a troll, but it''s starting to get on my nerves. If anyone actually thinks this is a tranted novel, I challenge you to check Google and see if you can find one. And don''t be an annoying little pest¡ªif you''re just looking for advanced Chapters, head over to my Patreon. If you''re interested in something simr, try searching for <i>Bringing Culture to Another World</i> or something like that.

 Chapter 147: Desired Product

    <h4>Chapter 147: Desired Product</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    One week into Hellfire channel''sunch, viewers noticed longermercial breaks - featuring Rook Automobiles, Waves electronics, cosmetics, and a new fashion brand called "Pendragon."

    Arthur hadunched Pendragon fashion using designs from his previous life, adapting iconic styles from luxury brands he once knew.

    Themercials showcased everything from Hellfire films on VHS to branded merchandise.

    James ze''s band, Nirvana, even sold shirts featuring their distinctive yellow smiley face logo.

    These TV advertisements proved remarkably effective, reaching households throughout Horn Kingdom.

    The channel''s reach extended beyond color TV owners - even older ck-and-white sets could receive Hellfire''s signal, dramatically expanding their audience.

    Yet most businesses and media outlets remained skeptical, dismissing TV advertising as foolish.

    Still, some smaller enterprises were willing to gamble onmercial slots, even if they could only afford a few seconds of airtime.

    Neil, who owned several restaurants, represented these risk-takers. Unable to afford the premium rates newspapersmanded due to overwhelming advertiser demand, he invested thousands in daily Hellfire channel spots.

    "This seems reckless, Neil. We shouldn''t trust Finance Times blindly. Their ims about TV advertising effectiveness seem exaggerated," Larry, his business partner, protested.

    "Growth requires calcted risks," Neil countered. "Haven''t you noticed how engaged people are with TV content? I think we''re looking at a genuine opportunity."

    Larry sighed, still doubtful but choosing to trust his partner''s instincts.

    "Look, ourmercial is ying!" Neil''s wife called from inside the restaurant. Neil and Larry rushed in.

    They watched their brief advertisement for "Lamb''s Blood Restaurant" - featuring Neil taking a bite of beef and eximing, "Tastes good!"

    {Visit Lamb''s Blood Restaurant today!}

    The screen switched to anothermercial.

    "Well, there it was - our first TV advertisement," Larry muttered, already regretting their investment.

    A few seconds of airtime seemed painfully brief. If this failed, they''d thrown away good money.

    "Have faith, Larry. Our advertisement will y multiple times throughout the day. People will notice us," Neil assured him, his optimism unwavering.

    The first day brought a modest increase in customers.

    Neil''s excitement grew, while Larry remained skeptical - they hadn''t yet recovered their advertising costs.

    But as days passed, the customer surge became impossible to ignore.

    Several menu items ran out as crowds filled their restaurants.

    Larry stared at their profit sheets in amazement. The returns after just days of TV advertising left him speechless.

    "Themercial worked beyond our wildest expectations!" Neil beamed.

    Larry could only nod, realizing how severely he''d underestimated television''s impact.

    "Let''s check on the main restaurant," Larry suggested. Neil agreed eagerly.

    They drove to their gship location, finding a crowd before they even entered.

    Inside, customers pointed at Neil with recognition. "Hey, isn''t that the guy from TV?"

    "Yeah, the one enjoying the beef in themercial!"

    Unexpectedly, Neil had be a minor celebrity among their patrons.

    Neil finished chatting with patrons before inspecting the restaurant with Larry. Outside, they continued their discussion.

    "We need to secure moremercial slots!" Neil dered.

    Larry hesitated. "Haven''t we achieved enough? Maybe we should focus on expansion instead of more advertising..."

    Neil shook his head firmly. "Don''t you see, Larry? People recognizing me from TV proves its marketing reach. If we stop advertising now, ourpetitors will take those slots and capture viewers'' attention with their own restaurants!"

    Understanding dawned in Larry''s eyes. "So you''re saying... if we prioritize expansion over TV presence,petitors could steal our momentum by bing the new faces on screen?"

    "Exactly," Neil nodded. "Expansion is crucial, but what good are new locations if we can''t effectively promote them? We need both."

    Larry nodded, finally grasping the strategy.

    ***

    Two weeks after Hellfire''sunch, businesses could no longer ignore television''s impact.

    Companies advertising on TV consistently showed increased visibility and sales.

    The rush began - restaurants, electronics manufacturers, fashion brands, all scrambling formercial slots.

    As demand soared, Hellfire raised their rates. Even a few seconds of airtime now cost more than premium newspaper advertising.

    Yet businesses kepting. Themercial breaks during telenovs expanded from fifty seconds to two minutes, with further increases likely as morepanies sought exposure.

    The feeding frenzy had begun, and early adopters like Neil were proving prophetic about television''s advertising potential.

    Arthur had instituted a bidding system formercial spots, driving prices even higher.

    Those precious seconds of airtime had be corporate gold. Businesses that once sneered at TV advertising now kicked themselves for missing the chance to secure slots at their initial bargain rates.

    Aspeting brands flooded Hellfire channel with advertisements, Arthur spotted another opportunity. Through Finance Times, he promoted a new edge in the advertising war.

    Hellfire Studio would now produce advertisements for clients - offering their production expertise and, crucially, their telenov stars topanies wanting to outshinepetitors.

    At Rook Automobile Headquarters, Ivan addressed his executives.

    "We''ve all witnessed television advertising''s effectiveness," Ivan stated. "We profited by acting while others underestimated it. But thendscape has shifted."

    Another executive nodded grimly. "Ourpetitors have caught on and secured their own slots. Viewers now have choices, which could significantly impact our market share."

    "Abandoning TV advertising isn''t an option - our rivals would leap ahead," the Marketing Director added.

    Ivan smiled. "I have a strategy to maintain our edge."

    The executives leaned forward, intrigued.

    "Yesterday''s Finance Times revealed an opportunity - Hellfire Studio now offers professional advertisement production services," Ivan exined. "Better yet, we can contract their telenov stars for ourmercials. Thisbination would distinguish our brand frompetitors."

    "But chairman," an executive ventured, "Hellfire Studio''s services and actor contracts mustmand premium rates."

    Ivan chuckled. "Business requires calcted risks. We gambled on TV advertising initially - look how that paid off." He leaned forward. "This is our path to standing out."

    ***

    Dayster, various automobile brandsunched their TV campaigns, each seeing modest sales increases.

    But Rook Automobile dominated the market - theirmercial featuring Kassandra''s actress resonated with viewers.

    Their tagline, "Like destiny itself, some choices shape your future forever," perfectly captured both the telenov''s dramatic essence and car-buying''s significance.

    Kassandra''s devoted fanbase immediately took notice.

    Rook''s sales soared pastpetitors, their strategic advantage clear - exclusive rights to Kassandra''s actress and Hellfire Studio''s premium production values.

    Meanwhile, TV advertising consistently outperformed newspaper cements - causing newspaper ad rates to plummet.

    Yet media moguls stubbornly maintained inted prices for print advertising space, elerating their own decline.

    As 1272 drew to a close, Horn Kingdom had witnessed a transformation.

    Television, once dismissed as a passing fad, had be the kingdom''s most coveted product. Just two weeks before Hellfire channel''sunch, citizens saw no value in TV ownership. Now everything had changed.

    Hellfire channel had changed entertainment and advertising alike. Television had evolved from luxury to necessity in the public''s eyes.

    Television ownership had be a source of neighborhood status. Housewives without TVs envied those who could watch telenovs daily.

    This dynamic yed out across Horn Kingdom''s neighborhoods - families with TVs found themselves the object of widespread envy.

    Children with TV-owning friends became regr visitors, while those less fortunate resorted to watching through neighbors'' windows.

    In the mere two weeks since Hellfire''sunch, new social patterns emerged. Children and young adults without TVs gathered at friends'' homes or peered through windows to catch glimpses of telenovs.

    Some homeowners, annoyed by these window-watchers, deliberately closed their curtains.

    "One day, we''ll have our own TV..." became amon refrain among those cursing their less generous neighbors.

    ***

    HOLLOW celebrated this cultural shift as both color and ck-and-white TV sales surged.

    Thepany prepared for expansion, nning distribution across Morningstar, Thorn Kingdom, Japon, Choson, Empirica, Deutd, and Moonlight Kingdom.

    Arthur''s vision extended beyond mere device sales. He nned to expand Hellfire channel throughout Anatolia.

    Beyond Horn Kingdom, he targeted Morningstar, Thorn, Japon, Choson, and the South East Anatolia nations.

    The "Hellfire Got Talent" studio construction had finished, upying a dedicated section of the VFX facility.

    Even if thepetition copied his moves,unched their own TV channels, and produced telenovs to ensure high ratings, Arthur will secure his dominance with Hellfire Got Talent, solidifying his hold on the TVndscape.

 Chapter 148: Rise of TV and fall of print media

    <h4>Chapter 148: Rise of TV and fall of print media</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Television''s unstoppable rise in Horn Kingdom left media moguls like Ryder Cage deeply unsettled.

    As Horns Times owner, Ryder called an emergency meeting with his editorial board. The newspaper executives shifted nervously in their seats.

    "Boss, revenue is plummeting. Other publishers report simr problems - advertising clients are jumping ship, and subscription numbers keep dropping," the editor-in-chief reported grimly.

    Ryder''s teeth clenched. "Has our negative coverage of television made any impact?"

    Silence fell as the editor-in-chief shook his head.

    Their discussion halted when a panicked employee burst into the conference room.

    "Can''t you see we''re in a meeting?!" Ryder snapped, his recent stress showing.

    The employee bowed apologetically, words tumbling out. "Forgive me, Boss Ryder, but... Hellfire channel justunched their own news segment!"

    "What?!" The room erupted in shock.

    "Yes sir! They''re calling it ''Hellfire News at Noon,'' andmercials announce ''Hellfire News at Evening'' starting soon!"

    Ryder and his team rushed to the lobby, where their recently purchased TV showed "Hellfire News" in progress. A poised subus demon faced the camera.

    "Good afternoon, I''m Alissa Dark, weing you to Hellfire News, bringing the kingdom''s stories directly to your home."

    The broadcast cut seamlessly from studio to field coverage, showing their reporter at the scene of a high-profile drug lord assassination.

    Watching the polished news broadcast, Ryder attempted bravado. "Don''t worry, people will still trust our printed news over television reports!"

    But his words rang hollow as they witnessed television''s powerful new threat to print media.

    ***

    Many had hesitated to purchase TVs, questioning their value despite the price. But when word spread that Hellfire channel offered free news broadcasts direct to homes, resistance crumbled and sales surged.

    People also noticed newspapers'' sudden silence about television. These publications, once vocal critics of TV and Hellfire channel, now seemed to avoid the topic entirely.

    Behind the scenes, media moguls had realized their criticism only provided free publicity for television. They''d ceased their negative coverage, but the damage was done.

    The moguls'' bted epiphany came toote - their earlier criticism had already helped promote TV and Hellfire channel. Now, "Hellfire News" marked the beginning of newspapers'' obsolescence.

    Even beforeunching their news segment, Hellfire''s telenovs had wounded print media. Hellfire News was the final nail in the coffin.

    Viewers quickly discovered television news offered moreprehensive coverage than newspapers.

    Even those without TVs gained ess to Hellfire channel through public spaces. Taverns, bars, and restaurants like Lamb''s Blood installedrge TV, drawing crowds to watch while dining or drinking.

    These establishments found their TVs attracted new customers while keeping existing ones lingering longer. The device that media moguls had once mocked had be a powerful tool for business growth.

    At Lamb''s Blood Restaurant''s New District branch, crowds gathered for the noon "Hellfire News" broadcast.

    The restaurant had be a hot spot for white-cor workers, who discovered the novel pleasure of dining while watching television.

    The subus anchor, Alissa, appeared on screen to introduce a special guest.

    "Let''s wee the man, the myth, the legend, Arthur Morningstar!" Alissa delivered Arthur''s scripted introduction.

    "It''s Arthur Pendragon now, Ms. Dark," Arthur corrected as he entered the studio.

    "My apologies - Arthur Pendragon!" Alissa smoothly amended.

    The restaurant patrons stirred with surprise. "The exiled prince changed his surname?"

    "Why didn''t the newspapers report this?"

    Indeed, print media had missed - or ignored - Arthur''s name change.

    Through Hellfire News, viewers learned not only of Arthur''s new identity but also that the telenovs and news segments were part of his grand vision for the channel.

    The interview''s revtion of "Hellfire Got Talent," an uing talent search show, sparked immediate excitement. Viewers who believed they possessed special abilities leaned forward, suddenly seeing a path to spotlight.

    ***

    Arthur savored his channel''s growth, particrly pleased with "Hellfire News" - a segment he''d methodically nned.

    Though he''d maintained a stoic front against newspaper publishers'' negative campaigns and intimidation tactics, their actions had irritated him more than he''d shown.

    Now "Hellfire News" would deliver his counterstrike, likely destroying most Horn Kingdom newspaper publishers, with ns to extend this media revolution across Anatolia once TV distribution expanded.

    His news team came primarily from a recently bankrupted newspaper publisher - skilled professionals he''d acquired along with their entire operation, transforming it into Hellfire News.

    ***

    The Hellfire newsroom buzzed with tension as reports arrived about thugs vandalizing several TV stores.

    The news team - reporters, fact-checkers, and editors - worked their sources. Reliable informants suggested media moguls'' involvement in the attacks.

    That evening, "Hellfire News" led withprehensive coverage of the vandalism. Their focused reporting and implied connections to media moguls sparked public outrage.

    The attacks on TV stores continued for days, with Hellfire News relentlessly covering the violence and confronting unresponsive police and authorities.

    Viewers'' anger mounted atw enforcement''s apparent indifference.

    News of public outrage reached the Horn Kingdom''s King, who immediately ordered an investigation.

    Under royal pressure, police finally acted. Within days, they revealed the masterminds: Ryder Cage, Shane Rights, and several other media moguls.

    This exposure transformed public perception of newspapers. Trust crumbled as readers realized the extent of media maniption.

    Meanwhile, Hellfire News, though barely a week old, had established unprecedented credibility.

    ***

    As 1273 dawned, "Hellfire Got Talent"unched its auditions, drawing hundreds of hopeful demons, elves, and dwarves.

    Arthur had strategically recruited aging, once-popr Horn and Morningstar singers as judges, giving these veterans new relevance while lending the show credibility.

    Television ownership had exploded to 780,000 households across Horn Kingdom.

    Though this represented only a fraction of the kingdom''s millions, achieving such pration in mere weeks signaled a cultural transformation.

    Hellfire channel''s programming continued driving TV sales upward, reshaping Horn Kingdom''s entertainmentndscape.

    January 3, 1273 marked television''s expansion as color and more affordable ck-and-white setsunched across Morningstar, Thorn, Japon, and Choson.

    Empirica, already familiar with ck-and-white TV, buzzed with anticipation for color sets.

    Arthur acquired broadcast frequencies there, though Empirica''s stricter media regtions posed challenges unlike Horn Kingdom''s open market. Despite some bureaucratic dys, he secured broadcasting rights. His channel wouldunch soon, albeit with dyed telenov episodes.

    Existing channels in Empirica had struggled until recently. Now, adopting Arthur''smercial break model, they found new life as TV''s poprity surged, sparked by Horn Kingdom''s sess.

    Arthur had already secured broadcast frequencies across Morningstar, Thorn, Japon, and Choson - their proximity to Horn Kingdom simplifying the expansion.

    His sess brought both financial rewards and entertainment points. Though he''d umted 80 million EP, he noticed telenovs generated fewer points than films.

    Yet television''s triumph overshadowed this minor concern. Sponsors overwhelmed his telenovs with offers, forcing him to turn many away.

    The channel generated 10 million dors from sponsorships,mercial slots, and production services featuring Hellfire talent.

    While not matching his film revenues, these earnings proved remarkable for a weeks-old channel.

    Hellfire channel''s future would extend beyond telenovs into anime and cartoons. Though eventually requiring separate channels, Arthur nned to initially test these formats alongside telenovs.

    Channel segregation could wait. His immediate focus was "Hellfire Animation Studio," newly approved for operation.

    This opening allowed him to expand his artist recruitment, particrly eyeing Japon and Empirica''s talent pools.

    Empirica''s established animation industry offered experienced artists ripe for poaching, while Japon''s smaller but promising studios showed unique potential.

    Despite Japon initially copying Empirica''s style, both nations had developed distinct animation aesthetics.

    <strong>[Hidden Quest Completed: You have sessfully established your own TV channel!]</strong>

    <strong>[Reward: Ancient Tree.]</strong>

    Arthur blinked at the unexpected notification. "A reward for establishing the channel?"

    "What exactly is this ''Ancient Tree''?" he muttered, examining the reward details.

    "What use could I possibly have for a tree..."

 Chapter 149: Proclaiming everything

    <h4>Chapter 149: Proiming everything</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I examined the {Ancient Tree} reward from my system storage - a miniature tree resembling a bonsai in an ornate vessel.

    "What purpose could this serve?" I wondered aloud.

    The system responded with a notification: <strong>[Ancient Tree]</strong>

    <strong>[Description: The most coveted tree of ancient times - sought by archmages, kings, emperors, queens, princes and princesses. Known as the "Cosmic Tree".]</strong>

    "Cosmic Tree?" My interest piqued.

    <strong>[Ancient Tree: Capable of linking to and influencing all trees within its domain.]</strong>

    <strong>[Level 1: Current influence range - 1,000 square kilometers.]</strong>

    My eyebrows rose. "Now this is interesting..."

    The interface shifted, revealing three development paths.

    <strong>[Ancient Tree offers three evolutionary paths:]</strong>

    <strong>[Controble Force]</strong>

    <strong>[Selecting this path shapes the tree''s growth toward mastery over natural forces.]</strong>

    <strong>[Description: The TreeKeeper gains authority over all trees within the Ancient Tree''s domain. Manipte their attributes -manding branches and roots to form barriers, shields, or weapons.]</strong>

    <strong>Controble Force held promise, but I needed to review all options.</strong>

    <strong>[Mana Collector]</strong>

    This path would transform the Ancient Tree and itswork into a vast mana harvesting system. It would not only absorb ambient mana but generate its own, providing me with a personal mana source.

    The second option offered utility, but the third proved most intriguing.

    <strong>[Root Networks]</strong>

    <strong>[Description: This option establishes an interconnected system linking the Ancient Tree to all trees within its domain, enabling telepathicmunication and information exchange. Only the TreeSage can activate the Ancient Tree''s abilities, essing specific trees to perceive their surroundings and conversations.]</strong>

    Further reading revealed Root Networks'' true potential - a real-time messaging system. I could send telepathic messages to anyone near a connected tree, and they could respond through fallen leaves.

    Any tree within the Ancient Tree''s coverage enabled seamlessmunication.

    "Wait..." A revtion struck as I studied the third option. "I could utilize this for TV signal transmission through the treework..."

    The Root Networks'' functions confirmed it - signal transmission was possible. This would provide superior TV reception to any viewer within the Ancient Tree''s domain.

    If the tree could channel magical messages, it could certainly amplify and distribute television signals more efficiently.

    The signal towers'' magic-based technology would integrate perfectly with the Ancient Tree''swork, their magical cores and energy signatures naturallypatible.

    This could greatly benefit my future projects, including the development of the inte¡ªpotentially even surpassing the capabilities of the inte from my previous life!

    "Decision made. I choose you!" I announced, tapping the third option like selecting a pok¨¦mon.

    <strong>[Choosing Third Option Path. Confirmed.]</strong>

    <strong>[Ancient Tree now focusing on "Root Networks" path. Basic Level 1 functions activated.]</strong>

    Level 1? <i>Sigh</i> Always pay-to-win with these upgrades.

    Without hesitation, I invested 10 million to reach level 2. The tree grew to the height of a dwarf child.

    Gritting my teeth, I immediately pushed to level 3, spending another 50 million. The tree expanded to adult dwarf height. "A necessary investment," I reminded myself as the millions vanished.

    The upgraded Ancient Tree''s capabilities now stretched across Morningstar, Japon, Choson, Thorn, and parts of South East Anatolia.

    Perfect. By linking the TV''s magical signal to the Ancient Tree, I could provide superior coverage and reception across my entirework!

    Plus, this would revolutionize my future inte ns.

    At level 3, every tree in Morningstar, Horn, Thorn, Japon, and Choson could function as a signal tower. Each leaf of the Ancient Tree acted like a satellite, capable of transmitting signals even beyond its coverage area.

    To activate the Ancient Tree''s "Root Networks," I needed to be its owner - the "TreeSage."

    The system''s instructions were simple: mark the soil with my essence.

    I spat into the tree''s soil.

    <strong>[You are now the official TreeSage of the Ancient Tree.]</strong>

    I smiled at the notification.

    "TreeSage..." Not a bad title at all.

    As TreeSage, I gainedplete dominion over the Ancient Tree''swork.

    This authority extended to every tree within its vast coverage across Anatolia, as long as they fell within the "Root Networks" parameters.

    Choosing "Controble Force" would have granted directmand over the trees themselves. But practicality won over raw power.

    Besides, future rewards might bring another Ancient Tree for that path.

    <i>Sigh</i>

    Who knew a tree could inspire such joy and regret simultaneously?

    As TreeSage, I could now channel television broadcast frequencies through the Ancient Tree''swork, distributing signals across Horn, Morningstar, Thorn, Choson, Japon, and parts of Anatolia.

    The magical energy requirements were minimal.

    The Devourer Ring would easily handle that burden.

    First step: teaching the Ancient Tree to recognize broadcast frequencies. Television signals already carried magical signatures from the towers'' enchanted cores and mystical technology.

    I activated my office television, tuning to channel 6 - Hellfire Channel.

    As telenov scenes yed, I exercised my TreeSage authority, transferring the signal''s magical signature pattern into the Ancient Tree.

    Its leaves illuminated as it processed the broadcast frequency''s arcane wavelengths.

    Essentially, I was recoding broadcast signals into the Ancient Tree''s naturalmunication system, allowing distribution through its vastwork.

    Once it recognized the audio-visual patterns, I only needed to adjust the mana resonance within the Root Networks to ensure consistent signal strength across its domain.

    The system''s adaptability to magical energy meant I could configure multiple frequency bands, letting thework handle various channels simultaneously.

    With the Ancient Tree amplifying signals, installing towers across Morningstar, Thorn, Choson, Japon, and parts of Anatolia seemed redundant.

    Yet skipping tower construction would raise suspicions.

    The towers would provide necessary cover for the enhanced signal strength, while serving areas where trees couldn''t reach - dense urban centers with minimal vegetation.

    The Root Networks essentially acted as a signal booster, with households near trees receiving exceptionally clear reception.

    Afterpleting the setup, I positioned the Ancient Tree in my office, arranging it to appear as just another dwarf-height decorative nt.

    "Should blend in perfectly there," I mused, stroking my chin.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    TV owners across Horn Kingdom had struggled with reception.

    Many resorted to expensive rooftop antennas, constantly adjusting them for better signals.

    Then, inexplicably, reception improved dramatically.

    Hellfire channel''s broadcast suddenly achieved crystal rity. Images sharpened, audio cleared - even ck-and-white TV owners noticed the enhanced quality.

    Unknown to viewers, their improved reception stemmed from the channel''s magically amplified signal strength.

    Areas previously gued by poor reception now received clear broadcasts.

    Rural viges, with their abundance of trees, experienced particrly strong signals - though residents simply attributed this to good fortune.

    Morningstar''s new TV owners discovered remarkably clear reception, particrly in cities near Horn Kingdom - Emerald City, Bright Capital, Pearl Bay, Wisdom City, and Monk Mountain.

    These viewers marveled at Hellfire channel''s rity, quickly bing engrossed in the repeated telenovs broadcast on channels 1 and 2.

    Days passed, and specifically in Morningstar cities bordering Horn Kingdom, TV owners developed new daily rhythms - catching telenovs morning and night, switching to news broadcasts at noon and evening.

    The print media in these border cities suffered the same fate as Horn Kingdom''s newspapers, their readership plummeting as television gained prominence.

    However, the media moguls in these border cities proved to be more adaptable. Instead of resisting the rise of television, they sought to embrace it, exploring opportunities to create new channels.

    This approach mirrored the thinking of media moguls in other nations who had witnessed the decline of print media in the Horn Kingdom due to the rise of television.

    Horn Kingdom''sndscape transformed as magic-enhanced dwarf construction crews erected new signal towers daily.

    Major studios purchased struggling newspapers, converting them into news channels while developing telenov content for their uing broadcasts.

    Arthur continued acquiring distressed print mediapanies, both to strengthen news gathering capabilities and preserve print journalism.

    Histest venture, "Forbes Magazine" and "Forbes Daily,"unched under the Hellfire banner.

    The inaugural magazine featured Arthur on its cover, with bold headlines:

    <i>"BOSS OF THE YEAR"</i>

    <i>"The Demon Genius Revolutionizing Global Media"</i>

    <i>"From Exile to Empire: The Visionary Who Changed Everything"</i>

 Chapter 150: Channel Domination and Hellfire Got Talent

    <h4>Chapter 150: Channel Domination and Hellfire Got Talent</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Hellfire channel''s enhanced signal strength drove TV demand across Horn Kingdom to new heights.

    HOLLOW''s profits soared into millions, with Arthur collecting substantial royalties from each sale.

    By January 7, 1273, TV ownership in Horn Kingdom reached one million households.

    As Hellfire expanded beyond Horn Kingdom, signal tower construction elerated across Morningstar, Thorn, Japon, and Choson. Waves Corporation''s partnerships with dwarvenpanies enabled remarkably swift construction.

    Within days, Morningstar and Thorn bristled with Hellfire''s high-powered signal towers.

    The emergence of new channels across Horn, Morningstar, Thorn, and Japon further boosted TV sales.

    These channels required Waves Corporation''s infrastructure, and with Arthur holding key signal transmission patents, every new tower brought him additional revenue.

    By January 12, 1273, Hellfire''s broadcasts reached Morningstar''s capital, Fend city, exploiting the kingdom''sck of broadcasting regtions.

    Soon, Hellfire''s coverage nketed most of Morningstar.

    The signal reached deep into Thorn Kingdom despite minimal tower presence there.

    Simr coverage extended to Japon and Choson - though Arthur deliberately maintained weaker signals in areascking proper tower infrastructure, masking the Ancient Tree''s influence.

    ***

    By January 17, 1273, Horn Kingdom saw other channels gaining viewers.

    Though none matched Hellfire''s dominance, these new channels began carving out their own audiences.

    These emerging channels offered more affordablemercial slots, attracting both major corporations and small businesses. Their sess encouraged investors and businessmen to further expand channel offerings and produce more telenovs.

    The trend spread beyond Horn Kingdom, with Morningstarunching its own channels, telenovs, andmercial programs.

    Their telenovs clearly mimicked Hellfire''s form, but found sess by offering viewers the chance to follow stories from episode one.

    While Hellfire offered VHS copies for viewers to catch up on missed episodes, the high cost of VHS yers limited this option''s appeal.

    Telenovs grew so influential they spawned their own critical discourse.

    Print media, fighting for survival against television''s dominance, found new life by reviewing telenovs. Magazine publishers transformed their declining publications into entertainment guides, drawing readers with detailed episode analyses and behind-the-scenes coverage.

    The transformation proved remarkable. In mere weeks, the television and telenov fever that began in Horn Kingdom swept through Morningstar and Thorn kingdoms with stunning speed.

    The rapid emergence of new channels and telenovs reflected this unprecedented pace of change.

    Royalty quickly dominated the new medium. Thorn Kingdom''s monarch established "Thorn Royals," while his wife and sons eachunched their own channels, securing the family''s media presence.

    Morningstar followed suit.

    King Luke, recognizing television''s propaganda potential, created "Morningstar Power." Lucy''s influence shaped the channel''s direction,bining news and telenovs with traditional propaganda - now enhanced by visual power. Their military might, once confined to print, now paraded across screens nationwide.

    Choson and Japon''s royal families simrly imed their broadcast territories.

    Empirica''s government maintained strict control through its state channel.

    The pattern became clear: society''s most powerful figures had recognized television''s unprecedented ability to shape public opinion, rushing to establish their own channels and control this new narrative medium.

    ***

    Within weeks, Hellfire channel faced numerouspetitors - exactly as Arthur had anticipated.

    Far from concerning him, this proliferation yed into his strategy. Across Horn, Morningstar, Thorn, Japon, Choson, and even Empirica, one system measured all channels'' sess: Pendragon Rating.

    Arthur had methodically expanded his rating system alongside Hellfire channel''s growth.

    Over weeks, Pendragon Rating built unprecedented credibility, establishing itself as the first system to provide near-urate viewing estimates.

    With both "Hellfire Daily" newspaper and Hellfire channel regrly publishing channel ratings, viewers across nations came to trust Pendragon Rating''s metrics as the industry standard.

    This trust transcended national boundaries, gaining eptance throughout the televisionndscape.

    Channel operators increasingly relied on Pendragon Rating''s data, using it to attract advertisers and setmercial rates. Businesses based their advertising investments on these ratings, effectively making Pendragon Rating the arbiter of television''s economic value.

    Media moguls attempted to replicate Pendragon Rating''s sess, but quickly discovered the system''s hiddenplexities, ultimately ceding control to Arthur''s established framework.

    The financial and logistical demands proved overwhelming.

    Arthur maintained 1,000 "Pendragon Households" in each major market - Horn Kingdom, Morningstar, Thorn, Japon, Choson, and Empirica.

    Thiswork continued expanding, with Arthur strategically establishing measurement systems in nations on the verge of their own television boom.

    Pendragon Rating''s credibility stemmed from its demonstrable fairness. Whenpeting channels in Horn and Morningstar conducted independent surveys, they confirmed Hellfire channel''s dominance - a fact that, while frustrating, they couldn''t dispute.

    This transparency eliminated suspicions that Pendragon Rating might be manipting numbers to benefit Hellfire channel. The system''s uracy, though advantageous to Arthur, appeared to simply reflect viewer preferences.

    Despite Pendragon Rating''s widespread eptance, some remained skeptical - chief among them, Lucy Morningstar.

    In her opulent office, Lucy scrutinized Morningstar''s channel ratings, her jaw tightening at Hellfire''s persistent dominance.

    In Fend City alone, the show achieved a 75 percent rating among TV-owning households. Across all Morningstar, Hellfire garnered an impressive 78 percent rating among TV owners, with other channels closely following Hellfire''s lead.

    The channel that ranked just behind Hellfire was the royal family''s ownwork, Morningstar Power.

    ''These numbers can''t be trusted,'' Lucy brooded, suspicion darkening her thoughts.

    The rating system''s owner was, after all, her exile of a brother.

    Her trust in Arthur had shattered the moment he abandoned their kingdom for Horn. She felt justified in her skepticism.

    Surely Arthur was manipting these numbers, determined to overshadow his family''s channel out of spite.

    <i>Knock Knock</i>

    "Enter," Lucymanded, pushing aside the ''Hellfire Daily'' with barely contained contempt.

    Her subordinate, tasked with conducting independent city surveys, entered nervously.

    "Your findings?" Lucy''s voice carried arctic chill.

    The fiend demon swallowed hard, visibly trembling. "ording to our surveys, your highness - Hellfire channel''s poprity indeed surpasses Morningstar Power..."

    Lucy''s annoyance manifested as a wave of cold energy, causing the demon to retreat a step.

    "Thank you for your honesty."

    The fiend demon startled at Lucy''s unexpected grace.

    She nodded dismissively. "You may go."

    After his hasty bow and exit, Lucy''sposure cracked. Her own survey''s confirmation of Hellfire''s dominance left no room for denial.

    She seized thetest "Forbes Magazine," fingers tightening on its edges.

    Arthur Pendragon - his new identity - gazed from the cover, lounging confidently on a throne, his smile radiating assurance.

    Lucy felt exposed under that printed gaze, as if Arthur could see right through her pretenses, stirring an unfamiliar insecurity.

    "How did you transform sopletely, little brother..." she whispered, struggling to reconcile this media mogul with the ''weak prince'' she''d known.

    Lucy shook off her doubts. She''s determined to do her best to overtake the Hellfire channel.

    She knows she must handle content production herself¡ªshe doesn''t trust Bobby to get the job done.

    In fact, Bobby''s channel is struggling.

    ***

    While Lucy abandoned her studies and royal duties to elevate the royal family channel, Arthur had already begun filming "Hellfire Got Talent" auditions, staying several steps ahead in their unspokenpetition.

    The studio bustled with contestants from various races awaiting their chance. Arthur, directing the program, watched each performance intently.

    Beyond the show''s entertainment value, he evaluated potential signings for his recordbel.

    The judges delivered seemingly spontaneous critiques, though Arthur carefully orchestrated their responses, feeding them direction through subtle prompts.

    A new contestant approached the stage - a human whose presencemanded attention.

    "Where are you from and what''s your name?" asked Jude, the veteran singer turned judge.

    "I am from Bharat Kingdom. My name is Frederick," the man replied, his distinctive mustache drawing all eyes.

    Arthur studied Frederick closely, something hauntingly familiar about him stirring memories from his previous life.

    After the judges'' preliminary interview, Arthur sent a telepathic message: "Let him perform now. I want to see what he got."

    The judges offered Frederick their customary good luck wishes.

    "Thanks," Frederick nodded, adjusting his guitar before beginning his performance.

    Arthur leaned forward, increasingly intrigued. Frederick''s voice stirred echoes of a legendary performer from his previous life.

    Noting the judges'' underwhelmed expressions, Arthur sent a gentle telepathic nudge before their critique, suggesting they soften their response.

    He didn''t demand outright praise just because Frederick caught his interest - these veteran performers still needed their autonomy as judges. Instead, he merely guided them toward constructive criticism that would advance Frederick to the next round. Arthur wanted to see more of what this familiar talent might be.

 Chapter 151: Hellfire Got Talent

    <h4>Chapter 151: Hellfire Got Talent</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The Hellfire Got Talent auditions continued, with several performers catching Arthur''s attention.

    Some dancers stood out for their exceptional skill, their routines enhanced by basic magic sparks that transformed simple movements into captivating disys.

    Theedians also impressed, drawing genuineughter from the judges. Arthur considered signing them, seeing potential in establishingedy clubs - an entertainment form yet to gain poprity in this world. This untapped market presented a perfect opportunity for expansion.

    Two dayster, the first episode of Hellfire Got Talent aired.

    The show immediately boosted Hellfire channel''s already dominant ratings across Horn, Morningstar, and Thorn. Viewers found the talent search format fresh and engaging, unlike anything they''d seen before.

    Meanwhile,peting channels offering only telenovs and news segments watched their audiences drift away to Hellfire.

    The next evening brought another episode. In Morningstar, Hellfire''s ratings soared to 86 percent, leaving other channels far behind.

    The show''s poprity transformed nightlife across the kingdoms. Bars and restaurants saw crowds surge during broadcast hours as people gathered to watch together.

    Even in Fend City''s hospital lobby, despite thete hour, patients, nurses, and doctors stayed awake, eyes fixed on the TV screen.

    A dance group took the stage, their performance elevated by magic that created sparking, glowing effects around their movements.

    "Wow... They dance well!!!" a patient eximed, leaning forward in excitement.

    "They must be professional," another nodded, impressed.

    As more performers showcased their abilities, the audience watched intently. Some acts drewughs for their earnest but unpolished attempts, while othersmanded attention with genuine talent.

    Then Frederick appeared. His tight clothing, long hair, and eye-catching mustache immediately set him apart. His mboyant presence sparked mixed reactions among viewers - some intrigued, others uncertain what to make of this distinctive performer.

    ***

    Television transformed Hellfire''s telenov stars into cultural icons across Horn, Morningstar, and Thorn.

    Many actors reached levels of fame surpassing even Caleb Diamond''s previous dominance of entertainment news.

    Josephine, once a struggling actress, now found herself mobbed by fans who recognized her as Kassandra.

    Even simple grocery shopping became an event, with crowds calling out, "Kassandra! Kassandra!" across store aisles. The sudden fame forced her to employ personal guards for any public appearance.

    Simr scenes yed out for other Hellfire telenov stars, their faces now instantly recognizable throughout the kingdoms.

    The television boom elevated James ze and Nirvana as well. Their music reached new audiences, building passionate followings in Morningstar and Thorn.

    When Hellfire channel expanded into Choson, Japon, and parts of South East Anatolia, it faced established localworks.

    Yet thebination of "Hellfire Got Talent," premium telenovs, and music segments featuring James ze and Hellfire Records'' jazz artists quickly dominated ratings in these new markets.

    Due to how expansive Hellfire channel had be, each nation received its own programming schedule and content lineup.

    In Morningstar, the channel operated with a distinct programming grid,plete with region-specific news coverage.

    Broadcasting telenovs and entertainment shows ording to local viewing habits proved crucial in outperforming domestic channels.

    Across Choson, Japon, and parts of South East Anatolia, Hellfire channelunched with tailored programming blocks. The channel started fresh, airing telenovs from their first episodes alongside "Hellfire Got Talent" and locally focused news segments. This regionalized scheduling approach helped Hellfire quickly capture audiences in these new markets.

    ***

    After a week of broadcasts, "Hellfire Got Talent" had surpassed even news segments and telenovs in poprity.

    When Hellfire Daily announced the show would soon transition from auditions to the main stage, offering audience tickets for live tapings, excitement spread quickly. The chance to watch episodes before they aired and participate in voting - all for just 2 dors - sparked immediate interest.

    During break time at various workces, the topic dominated conversations.

    "Did you see the news? We can actually watch Hellfire Got Talent live!" an excited employee announced to his colleagues.

    "Yeah, but we need tickets," a behemoth demon reminded them.

    "It''s only 2 dors," an imp chimed in. "Plus, we get to vote alongside the judges. We could help our favorites advance to the next round!"

    "You mean I could vote for sexy Jasmine?" an incubus demon perked up.

    "Exactly!" The imp giggled. "I''m voting for her too! She''s gorgeous!"

    "I''m buying tickets just for the chance to be on TV!" another added enthusiastically.

    "Hehehehe..."

    The modest ticket price drew crowds hoping either to support their favorite performers or catch a glimpse of themselves on screen when the cameras panned across the audience.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    The live shows were about to begin in a few days, and I had ns for Frederick. Not to win necessarily - just to stand out enough to catch the public''s attention. Then I could sign him to mybel and develop his talent, much like I''d done with James ze.

    Thepetition results would still depend on how well he impressed the audience and judges. I''d simply give him the right opportunity to shine.

    In the training room, I watched Frederick practicing the song I''d chosen for him. His voice carried through the space:

    "Tonight, I''m gonna have myself a real good time," he began, then continued with growing confidence, "I feel alive, and the world, I''ll turn it inside out, Yeah! I''m floating around in ecstasy, so don''t stop me now, don''t stop me¡ª"

    A smile crept across my face as memories from my previous life surfaced. Queen''s iconic song brought back waves of nostalgia.

    "''Cause I''m having a good time, having a good time," Frederick sang on, unknowingly channeling Freddie Mercury''s spirit.

    "That''s it for now," I told Frederick as he finished the song.

    Sweat glistened on his brow as he set down the guitar. He pressed his palms together and bowed deeply. "Thank you for coaching me. This is an incredible opportunity."

    "Don''t worry about it," I waved off his thanks, chatting briefly before showing him out.

    Watching Frederick''s retreating figure, I sighed thoughtfully. <i>''First James ze, now Frederick. Two talents paralleling the legends from my previous life... But there are still more to find - the equivalents of Elvis, Michael Jackson, the Beatles, Aretha Franklin, Madonna, Bob Dn, Frank Sinatra...''</i>

    I smiled at the thought of collecting this world''s versions of music legends like Pok¨¦mon.

    Returning to my office, I found Firfel and Vivienne waiting. "Here for tea again?"

    They both blushed adorably, causing me to shake my head with a sigh.

    "I''m here for my amulet," Firfel offered quickly.

    I chuckled. Our little dance had be routine - I''d borrow her amulet for research, return it dayster, then either borrow it again or have her voluntarily offer it back. The cycle repeated every few days.

    "I''m here about the animation voice acting schedule," Vivienne cleared her throat, providing her own excuse.

    Still amused, I served them their favorite Ti Kuan Yin with light sandwiches.

    "Maybe I should start an official ''Tea Party'' since you two visit so often for tea," I joked.

    "Or you could just share your tea supply with us," Vivienne suggested shamelessly.

    "Or at least tell us where you source these tea leaves," Firfel chimed in.

    "That''s my secret," I replied bluntly. "Besides, even if you had the same Imperial Grade tea leaves, it wouldn''t taste this refreshing unless I prepared it."

    The girls exchanged skeptical sneers, clearly doubting me.

    But it was true - without my {Rose Magic} enhancing the taste and effects, the tea wouldn''t have its addictive quality.

    Not that I minded their visits. Especially Firfel''s. Using the tea as an excuse to spend time with her was all part of my strategy. That is my ninja way.

    "Speaking of projects," Vivienne shifted topics, "when are you nning to broadcast that ''anime'' you mentioned?"

    "That''ll take some time," I admitted, then seeing their disappointment, added, "I''m actually nning a trip to Japon to recruit animators. Maya tells me there are plenty of talented artists there - some unemployed, others looking to escape overwork at their current studios."

    "Really?" Firfel''s eyes lit up. "Can Ie along?"

    "We should join you, since we''re part of the anime project!" Vivienne quickly added.

    Looking at their eager expressions, I knew they were more interested in a vacation than animation production.

 Chapter 152: Stalker

    <h4>Chapter 152: Stalker</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    In Horn Kingdom''s New District, operatives from various factions continued their fruitless search for the Ring of Greed.

    The hunt spilled into Gloomstone Forest, where locals frequently witnessed powerful figures engaged inbat. These shes became somon that residents barely reacted anymore.

    "More strange tourists fighting in the forest," they''d mutter, returning to their daily routines. The locals remained oblivious that these "tourists" were operatives searching for the ring, often shing with rival factions pursuing the same goal.

    ***

    Meanwhile, Arthur prepared for his trip to Japon, apanied by Firfel, Vivienne, and his recruitment team. Steve''s group had already departed for Empirica on a simr mission to hire artists.

    Arthur anticipated rapid growth in his animation studio''s production demands. He needed both talent and expertise to ensure his uing anime would sessfully broadcast beyond Horn and throughout Anatolia.

    His strategy was clear: the more popr the fiction, the greater his influence in the fictional realms.

    While Dragon Ball manga had found its audience, Arthur knew animation would catapult it to new heights of poprity. Despite releasing four volumes, it had yet to achieve true worldwide sess.

    To expand his manga production, Arthur had recentlyunched Naruto. Though only days into publication, it still needed to meet the Creator''s Realms'' strict sess criteria.

    Once Naruto gained sufficient recognition, Arthur could visit its world and master the Shadow Clone Jutsu. With such a technique, manga production would be both more efficient and faster.

    Arthur settled into the driver''s seat, with Firfel and Vivienne following into his car. Before starting the engine, he caught a glimpse of a distant figure - the same presence he''d noticed shadowing himtely.

    "Something wrong?" Firfel asked, noticing his hesitation.

    "Nothing, let''s go," Arthur replied, pulling away from the curb.

    In the distance, a hooded elf adjusted her cloak before slipping into her own vehicle to continue her surveince.

    Her organization had tasked her with gathering intelligence on New District''s notable figures, particrly those wearing rings. While dozens of prominent individuals in New District wore rings, Arthur Pendragon, formerly Morningstar, drew special attention.

    The organization found Arthur particrly suspicious given his knowledge of ancient rings, as demonstrated in his "Lord of the Rings" film. The possibility that he either possessed or knew about their target ring warranted investigation. Hence, they dispatched their most capable operative - her.

    ***

    Hourster, their airship touched down in Nihhon City, Japon''s capital.

    Maya, Arthur''s business partner, greeted them warmly at thending pad.

    As Firfel and Vivienne took in the bustling cityscape, Maya handled their hotel arrangements.

    The hotel''s traditional architecture stirred memories of ancient Japan from Arthur''s previous life. Japon''s culture mirrored that world''s Japan perfectly, from its aesthetics to its customs.

    Local demons resembled the yokai and oni of Japanese mythology, though their features weren''t drastically different from those in Horn, Morningstar, or Thorn.

    With his team dispatched to scout talented artists, Arthur focused onrger ns. Maya''s local connections proved invaluable as he explored purchasing an animation studio. Expanding production would require facilities beyond Horn''s borders.

    Days melted into each other as business progressed. Firfel and Vivienne embraced the trip as a vacation, shopping enthusiastically at every opportunity.

    Throughout it all, Arthur''s shadow remained. His stalker had followed him even to Japon, but he''d ignored her presence, prioritizing studio acquisitions and talent recruitment.

    Now, with several deals nearlyplete and promising artists identified, Arthur could finally address his persistent follower.

    He deliberately chose his path through the city, leading toward a secluded alleyway in one of Nihhon City''s older districts. The area stood in sharp contrast to the bustlingmercial center - sparse poption, deteriorating buildings, the kind of ce locals avoided. Perfect for activities requiring privacy.

    Arthur tracked the cloaked figure''s movements in his peripheral vision as he entered the alley. The location was ideal - no witnesses, no interruptions.

    He turned to face his stalker, finally ready for their confrontation.

    "More perceptive than I expected. You noticed me," the figure said, approaching steadily.

    Despite her mask, Arthur wasn''t surprised by the feminine voice - her silhouette clearly belonged to a beautiful woman. "You must have plenty of free time, following me all the way to another kingdom."

    "Oh? So you knew I was tailing you back in Horn Kingdom?" surprise colored her tone.

    "I''m not exactly oblivious to my surroundings," Arthur smiled. "Any particr reason you''re stalking me like a creep?"

    The woman bristled. "Don''t call me a creep. I''m nothing of the sort."

    "Then why follow a man around?" Arthur chuckled, deliberately lightening his tone. "Though I know I''m quite irresistible¡ª"

    "Don''t tter yourself," she cut him off, pointing directly at his hand. "I''m not interested in you - just the ring you wear."

    Arthur''s amusement faded into wariness. "The ring on my finger caught your eye?"

    The masked woman nodded. "If you''d be so kind, might I borrow it?"

    "Borrow?" Arthur snorted. "Why such interest? It''s just an ordinary gold ring."

    The {Devourer Ring} spell made it appear unremarkable - just a simple golden band. The woman studied it carefully but saw nothing special. Still, she pressed on, "If it''s so ordinary, why not let me examine it?"

    "I don''t even know you," Arthur eyed her, saying. "Even if it''s just an ordinary ring on my finger - it''s still my possession. No way I would hand it over to a stranger."

    "Then you leave me with no choice." The woman''s voice turned cold as she surveyed their surroundings. "It''s fortunate you chose this ce. Perfect for assaulting someone."

    Arthur smiled, "You can try assaulting me. I wanna see you try."

    The woman snorted, then shed toward Arthur with startling speed.

    Her martial arts prowess was evident in every move. Before his Dragon Ball training, she might have posed a serious threat. Now, though, Arthur easily countered her kick.

    She followed with another swift strike, but Arthur evaded smoothly,nding a precise palm strike to her stomach.

    That single blow sent spittle flying as she staggered back. "You... You hid yourself well, exiled one. You''re actually proficient in martial arts."

    Arthur smiled, pressing his advantage with a relentless series of strikes.

    Though she defended skillfully, the woman gradually sumbed to his assault. Finding space, she eximed, "I can''t defeat you with martial arts, but I don''t think you can match me with magic!"

    Arthur paused, taunting, "Come on, show me what you''ve got."

    Gritting her teeth, she unleashed hundreds of ice shards. Arthur''s After Image Technique left them striking nothing but air.

    The woman''s eyes widened in shock. "I have no choice!" She began channeling a forbidden spell, knowing one mistake in the incantation could tear her body apart.

    "?th?¨ªkan V?lth¨±m Byn''darun"

    Arthur felt the atmosphere shift as mystical lines materialized, wrapping around his body. While the woman strained to maintain the powerful binding spell, the {Devourer Ring} quietly absorbed its energy.

    Thanks to the Concealment Magic, the ring''s absorption appeared as if Arthur''s body itself was nullifying the spell.

    "Oh no..." The woman''s rm grew as she watched Arthur mysteriously dispel her magic.

    Seeing him advance, she hastily erected a magical barrier around herself.

    Arthur''s strikes met the imprable shield. Recognizing its strength, he leapt back to create distance.

    Just as the woman began to rx, Arthur dropped into a stance and chanted, "Kamehame... Ha!"

    Energy gathered in his palms, coalescing into a brilliant beam that he directed at her shield.

    The barrier shattered before her eyes. Even her mask couldn''t withstand the pressure wave, crumbling to pieces on the ground.

    Her exposed face registered pure shock at the disy of power.

    Arthur''s triumphant smile faltered as he studied her features. The silver hair, the delicate face - her striking resemnce to Firfel caught him off guard.

 Chapter 153: Iâ€™m no murderer

    <h4>Chapter 153: I''m no murderer</h4>

    (Sylwen POV)

    <i>''This is impossible...''</i>

    I stared at the shattered fragments of my mask scattered across the ground, incredulous.

    A B-Grade Protective Artifact, reduced to pieces! The magical barrier it generated should have withstood two forbidden spells, yet it crumbled before that strange incantation.

    My expensive mask, destroyed as if it weremon ss...

    "You..." I finally found my voice after seconds of stunned silence. "What kind of magic spell was that?!"

    How could the supposedly weak exile, Arthur Morningstar, possess such power?

    "Hehe, why would I tell you?" Arthur smirked, advancing slowly.

    I retreated, but escape felt futile. His demonstrated speed meant outrunning him was unlikely.

    <i>''Wait...''</i> Something about his measured approach caught my attention. The hesitation in his stepspared to earlier... <i>''Could it be? Did that massive attack drain his mana reserves?''</i>

    It made perfect sense! No one could shatter a B-Grade barrier without consequences. He must be exhausted!

    Seizing the opportunity, I sprang into action, ricocheting between the alley walls to reach the rooftop.

    "Hmph, let''s see if you can catch me after expending all your mana at once!" I taunted, certain he''d weakened himself.

    Below, Arthur''s smile never wavered.

    <i>That expression...</i>

    A chill ran down my spine.

    Gritting my teeth, I turned to flee - only to freeze at a familiar voice.

    "You think I was exhausted, huh? Not a chance."

    There stood the damn Arthur, blocking my path!

    ***

    (3rd Person)

    Sylwen stumbled backward, her voice trembling with disbelief. "Ho-how... You should be drained after unleashing such a powerful spell!"

    Arthur stalked closer, his smile carrying a hint of mischief. "Hehe, did you really think that single attack exhausted my power?" A warm chuckle escaped him. "I''ve barely tapped into my energy, beautifuldy."

    Sylwen''s legs buckled beneath her as reality crashed down. She sank to her knees, eyes wide with dawning horror. "This can''t be..."

    Raw desperation crept into her voice as she clenched her teeth. "My life is forfeit now. The organization will never take me back - I might as well end it all!"

    Arthur''s instincts red as Sylwen''s fingers closed around a concealed dagger, its de glinting as she aimed for her heart.

    "Wait¡ª" He surged forward in a blur of motion, reaching to stop her self-destructive act.

    But the dagger''s momentum carried it downward - Arthur had no choice but to intercept the de with his bare hand.

    <i>Ssh</i>

    Blood arced through the air. Sylwen''s expression transformed from determination to shock as she stared at Arthur.

    Crimson droplets stained her chest, but they weren''t her own - they''d sprayed from Arthur''s wounded palm beside her.

    "Wh-why?" The question tumbled from her lips, genuine confusion recing her earlier hostility.

    "Why?" Arthur gritted his teeth, pulling the dagger from his palm. "Because I am not a demon! I will not just watch another being kill themselves in front of me!"

    She looked at him with a weird expression, "But you are a ''demon''."

    His lips curved into a gentle smile. "Indeed I am."

    His voice carried quiet conviction as he continued, "But I am no murderer."

    Sylwen bit her lower lip, struggling to understand. "You needn''t concern yourself. The choice to end my life was mine alone."

    "But I had the power to prevent it," Arthur countered firmly. "Allowing you to die when I could save you would make meplicit in murder all the same."

    "Why burden yourself with my fate?" Sylwen challenged, adding softly, "Especially after I just tried to steal from you?"

    Arthur released a weighted sigh. "Truth is, you remind me of someone. Your face bears a striking resemnce to my girlfriend."

    Sylwen''s brow furrowed in recognition. "You''re involved with that woman?"

    "Oh?" Arthur''s interest peaked. "So you do know her? There must be a connection..."

    Bitterness darkened Sylwen''s tone. "It was long ago - but I despised that woman. I hated her family and everything they represented."

    Arthur''s curiosity ignited. ''Interesting... I sense there''s quite a story here...''

    "Then you have toe with me." Arthur secured a rope around her wrists with practiced efficiency.

    "Wha-what are you doing?" Sylwen''s rm returned to her voice.

    "You''re now my prisoner." Arthur''s tone left no room for argument. "You can''t take your own life anymore. You''re under my responsibility."

    "This is ridiculous!" Sylwen''s protest echoed across the rooftop.

    Arthur disyed his bleeding palm meaningfully. "You must do as I say - look at my hand. I earned this wound saving your life."

    "I never asked to be saved anyway." Sylwen''s words carried defiant bitterness.

    "Enough talking. Follow me." Arthur tugged the rope, causing her to stumble forward.

    Realizing their rooftop position, he smoothly lifted Sylwen onto his shoulder.

    "Stop!" she protested, struggling against his grip.

    Ignoring herints, Arthur began traversing the cityscape, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with fluid grace.

    Mid-leap, he asked, "What''s your name?"

    "Sylwen," she answered, resignation coloring her voice.

    "Why were you ready to end your life earlier?" His question carried genuine concern.

    Silence stretched between them before Sylwen spoke, seeing little point in secrecy now. "It''s an organizational rule - if someone sees your face for more than a minute, your life is forfeit."

    She continued grimly, "Better to end it yourself than be hunted down by the organization."

    Arthur''s frown deepened. "What a ridiculous group you''re working for." He added thoughtfully, "Why not simply lie? Tell them no one saw your face."

    Sylwen shook her head. "Impossible. The mask you destroyed had a tracking spell - they already know it''s been broken."

    Arthur nodded in understanding.

    "I could try iming I concealed my face after the mask broke, that no one saw me for more than a minute," Sylwen added quietly. "But whether they''d spare me is questionable. Failing the mission alone likely marks me for death."

    Arthur''s difort grew. "You''re trapped in a truly terrible organization."

    Sylwen fell silent, herck of response speaking volumes.

    Noting her withdrawal, Arthur paused their journey. "It''ll take time to reach our destination by rooftop." He carefully set her aside, considering their next move.

    Sylwen broke her silence with urgency. "Just let me go. If you keep holding me, your life will be in danger too."

    "Hehe, didn''t expect you to care so much about my wellbeing," Arthur teased.

    A flush of embarrassment colored Sylwen''s cheeks. "I don''t care about you."

    "You really do remind me of Firfel," Arthur mused, watching her reaction.

    "I''m nothing like her!" Sylwen''s sharp retort carried years of buried emotion.

    Her response only reinforced Arthur''s suspicions about her history with Firfel.

    "I mean it. Let me go now. You don''t want to be dragged into my troubles." Sylwen''s voice carried genuine concern.

    "I''m not afraid," Arthur stated simply. "Besides, your organization only knows about the destroyed mask - they can''t track who you''re with or where you''ve gone, right?"

    Sylwen paused before answering carefully. "True. They don''t know my current location. But they''ll pinpoint where the mask shattered. Their operatives in this city are probably already heading there."

    Arthur nced back toward the alley with the mask fragments. "So we need to move quickly then?"

    Sylwen nodded gravely. "Yes. At our current pace, their operatives will catch up soon. They''re skilled investigators - they''ll trace our path from footprints and other signs."

    Arthur''s continued calmness made Sylwen frown. "I know you''re powerful - but trust me, the organization has members far stronger than you!"

    "Be at ease. We''ll be fine." Arthur''s confidence never wavered.

    As Sylwen wondered at hisposure, she gasped as bat-like wings unfurled from his back.

    "This..." Fresh shock registered on her face.

    "Let''s go." Arthur swept her into a princess carry and with one powerful leap, they soared into the sky.

 Chapter 154: My Organization

    <h4>Chapter 154: My Organization</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Several masked figures converged on the rooftop where Arthur and Sylwen''s trail ended.

    "The footprints stop here," the man in the dog mask observed, studying the roof''s surface.

    "Our investigation shows the elf operative codenamed L wasn''t alone," another figure reported as theynded.

    "Evidence suggests L was taken against her will," a third masked operative added.

    The dog-masked man straightened. "With no traces leading down or across other rooftops, her captor must possess flight capabilities." He paused thoughtfully. "To subdue L, one of our mostpetent operatives, and possess the power of flight... This individual cannot be taken lightly."

    The other masked figures nodded in agreement.

    Flying techniques, after all, belonged to the realm of ancient magic - a rare and powerful art few could master.

    ***

    Arthur descended onto the hotel rooftop with Sylwen, his wings dissolving as he slipped through his room''s window with practiced ease.

    He set Sylwen down unceremoniously, like cing a lightweight package.

    "What do you n to do with me?" Sylwen''s eyes darted around the room, her imagination clearly spiraling toward darker possibilities.

    She feared Arthur intended to... take advantage of her position!

    Reading her expression, Arthur decided to tease her. He lifted her suddenly and tossed her onto the king-sized bed.

    Sylwen swallowed hard, watching Arthur''s intense gaze. "You''ll regret this..." she muttered.

    "Regret what?" Arthur asked innocently.

    "For... for taking advantage of me!" Sylwen burst out. "Now I understand why a demon - a royal demon no less - would act so caring! Your true intentions are clear! You''re despicable!"

    Arthur''s smile widened. "What are you talking about? What intentions?" He shook his head. "I simply thought you could use some rest. Are you perhaps misunderstanding something?"

    "You''re not... not going to take advantage of me? My body?" Sylwen''s disbelief was palpable.

    Arthur studied her for a moment. "Take advantage of your body?" He paused thoughtfully. "Hehe, I''ll admit you''re beautiful with a stunning figure. But I''ll pass."

    His tone softened. "I have a beautiful girlfriend, remember? She''s more beautiful than you."

    Sylwen''s face tightened at the mention of his girlfriend. She bit her lower lip, defiance shing in her eyes. "No way she''s more beautiful than me!"

    "Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder," Arthur shrugged casually. "Perhaps you are more beautiful objectively, but I find Firfel more attractive." Then, with deliberate gentleness, he added, "Sorry."

    That simple ''sorry'' sent color flooding to Sylwen''s cheeks. The casual dismissal stung more than she expected.

    "Here, so you don''t bite your tongue," Arthur said, securing a handkerchief around her mouth.

    "Hmm!" Sylwen''s protests became muffled.

    "I''ll be back." Arthur left her to stew in her thoughts.

    In the hotel''s dining area, he spotted Firfel and Vivienne at their usual table.

    "Where have you been?" Firfel asked as he approached. "We''ve been looking everywhere for you."

    Arthur settled into his chair with an easy smile. "Just handling some business."

    The women epted this with quiet nods. Arthur ordered from the menu, enjoying a peaceful meal with them before carefully broaching the subject.

    "Firfel, does the name Sylwen mean anything to you?"

    The question visibly startled her. "Where did you hear that name?"

    "Met an elf woman earlier," Arthur exined. "She introduced herself as Sylwen. Asked quite a bit about you."

    "Really?" Firfel stood abruptly. "Where is she? Can you tell me?"

    Arthur sighed softly. "She left. Asked specifically that you not look for her."

    Firfel sank back into her chair reluctantly. Vivienne watched the exchange with quiet interest.

    "What did she want to know about me?" Firfel''s voice carried an edge of tension.

    "Simple things," Arthur kept his tone casual. "How you''ve beentely, if you''re doing well. That sort of thing." He added carefully, "I answered her questions. She seemed satisfied with what she heard."

    Firfel released a weighted sigh, her expression aplex mix of emotions.

    "You know her, Firf?" Vivienne probed gently.

    ''Perfect timing, Vivienne!'' Arthur silently approved, turning his full attention to Firfel.

    Firfel''s shoulders sagged with a heavy sigh. "Sylwen is my half-sister." Her voice softened. "Mother''s firstborn... from another man..." The words seemed to catch in her throat.

    Vivienne nodded encouragingly, sensing the weight of the revtion.

    "Father epted mother despite everything, but Sylwen..." Firfel''s expression darkened with old pain. "She received nothing but cold treatment from both of them." Her voice carried years of guilt. "When I turned thirteen, she finally left. Said she''d make her own way in the world."

    "That''s heartbreaking," Vivienne murmured, genuine sympathy in her tone.

    Firfel nodded slowly, memories clearly ying behind her eyes. The casual cruelty her parents showed Sylwen, their utter indifference when she left - they hadn''t even attempted to search for their eldest daughter.

    Arthur absorbed this information with growing difort. ''So the sharp-tongued woman has her own wounds,'' he reflected. The pieces of Sylwen''s personality began falling into ce.

    "Well, I''m full," he announced, rising from his chair. "See youter, girls."

    Both women nodded, barely registering his departure as they remained deep in conversation about Sylwen.

    As Arthur walked away, fragments of their continued discussion drifted after him, painting an ever moreplex picture of his captive''s past.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Returning to my hotel room, I found Sylwen still on the bed, the handkerchief across her mouth. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, tears streaming silently down her face.

    I sighed softly, settling beside her. Gently, I wiped the tears from her cheeks.

    She barely reacted to my presence. I continued dabbing at her tears with careful movements. "Everything will be fine. Don''t worry too much about your organization. They pose no threat to me."

    Sylwen shook her head at my attempt at reassurance.

    She struggled to speak against the cloth, "Hmph-"

    I quickly removed the handkerchief.

    "I have nowhere to go," she said, voice raw with emotion. "The organization I served for years will hunt me down. I''mpletely alone."

    My heart tightened at her words. "What are you talking about? Nowhere to go?" I challenged gently. "That''s not true at all. After all, I''m here."

    Sylwen shot me a skeptical look that clearly said ''you?''

    "Don''t look at me like I''m unreliable," I protested. "Didn''t you witness my power firsthand? I''m more capable than you think."

    "Sure," Sylwen chuckled, clearly humoring me.

    "You still don''t believe in me?" I asked, noting her continued doubt despite our earlier confrontation.

    Sylwen just gave me that same skeptical look.

    "I''m beingpletely honest," I insisted. "I have my own organization. If you want, it could be your new home."

    "Really?" Sylwen''s tone remained yfully doubtful. "What''s the name of this organization of yours?"

    "Name?" My mind raced frantically - I hadn''t expected to invent an organization on the spot.

    Hellfire Organization was out of the question - far too obvious.

    A secret organization needed proper distance from my public ventures. Any clear connection to mypanies would instantly expose my bluff.

    "My organization is called ''Hellsing Organization''," I heard myself say within seconds.

    Not bad at all. It had the right mysterious ring to it.

    Sylwen''s thoughtful expression suggested she was buying it. "Hellsing Organization... Never heard of it..."

    "Naturally," I cleared my throat with practiced confidence. "We operate in absolute secrecy. Our members are exceptionally powerful, all masters of advanced martial arts. Theymand techniques like the one I used to shatter your mask''s barrier."

    Sylwen fell into contemtive silence. My fabrication seemed to be taking root.

    "So joining your organization means learning these martial arts and secret techniques?" She asked, genuine interest creeping into her voice. "The ones capable of breaking through powerful shields?"

    I nodded firmly. "Absolutely. I''ll personally oversee your training if you wish."

    Sylwen weighed her options before speaking. "Alright. I''ll join your organization... I hope this isn''t a decision I''ll regret."

    "You won''t," I assured her, internally sighing with relief.

    At least I''d given her something to live for.

    <strong>[Hidden Quest: You sessfully created a secret organization and recruited one member!]</strong>

    <i>''Well,''</i> I thought, eyeing the notification. <i>''This just got interesting.''</i>

 Chapter 155: Intentions for Japon

    <h4>Chapter 155: Intentions for Japon</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The reward notification gave me pause: <strong>[You may grant your first subordinate one of the following abilities as a unique skill. Choose carefully, as each will enhance your team in different ways.]</strong>

    <strong>[Select an Ability:</strong>

    <strong>1. Silent Step</strong>

    <strong>Description: Grants the power of soundless movement, perfect for stealth operations or surprise attacks. Mastery unlocks advanced techniques like </strong><strong><i>Phase Step</i></strong><strong> or </strong><strong><i>Ghostly Echo.</i></strong>

    <strong>2. False Visage</strong>

    <strong>Description: Enablesplete transformation of appearance, voice, and scent. Ideal for infiltration or deception. Mastery permits upgrades to </strong><strong><i>Perfect Guise</i></strong><strong> and </strong><strong><i>Charmed Image.</i></strong>

    <strong>3. Arcane Overload</strong>

    <strong>Description: Amplifies magical power by 200%, though overuse carries risks. Future enhancements include </strong><strong><i>Mana Shield</i></strong><strong> and </strong><strong><i>Controlled Surge.</i></strong><strong>]</strong>

    <strong>[Please select an ability to grant your subordinate. Choice is permanent.]</strong>

    Each ability held tremendous potential. Like choosing between perfect women, I wished I could have them all - but life rarely offers that luxury.

    Given Sylwen''s situation, {False Visage} seemed most practical. With her organization hunting her, the ability to alter her appearancepletely would prove invaluable for evading detection.

    The moment I confirmed my choice, Sylwen''s eyes zed over, her consciousness clearly processing the new ability.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Information suddenly flooded Sylwen''s mind. Through her initial confusion, understanding of {False Visage} crystallized with startling rity.

    "It seems you''ve received my organization''s ability," Arthur observed casually.

    Sylwen whirled to face him, shock evident in her expression. "That ability I just inherited... it came from you?"

    Arthur nodded, offering a mysterious smile. "That''s right," he lied smoothly. "Every new member receives a suitable ability when joining our ranks."

    He savored the hint of shock and admiration in Sylwen''s expression.

    "You are entirely different from the rumors, Arthur Morningstar..." She spoke with genuine disbelief. "You are far more capable than your reputation suggests. People know you as weak and magically ipetent, talented only in entertainment, but it seems everyone was wrong."

    Arthur smiled as he dissolved the ropes binding her with a casual wave. "They merely judged the book by its cover." A confident gleam flickered in his eyes. "I am skilled inbat and possess many abilities. After all, how could I aspire to be king if entertainment was my only talent?"

    Sylwen''s eyes widened at his words. Without hesitation, she dropped to one knee before him. "Now that I am part of your organization, I pledge to follow yourmands without question. I will help you im your rightful ce as demon king!"

    Arthur hadn''t expected such earnest dedication to his casual remark, but yed along. "Use the ability I granted you to avoid detection from your pursuers."

    Sylwen nodded, her form shifting until she resembled a local fox demon of Nihhon City.

    Arthur thoughtfully stroked his chin as he guided her transformation, drawing from memories of his previous life. Soon, she mirrored the appearance of a famous actress.

    He led her to meet Firfel and Vivienne, introducing her as "Megan Fox," his newest talent.

    The two women exchanged suspicious nces.

    "Are you certain she isn''t..." Vivienne whispered, careful to keep ''Megan'' from hearing, "a courtesan you''ve taken a fancy to?"

    Firfel blushed at the suggestion, eyeing Arthur questioningly.

    "Show some respect," Arthur frowned. "Megan is a skilled performer."

    "My apologies," Vivienne said contritely. "It''s just rathermon in this city."

    Arthur smoothed over the situation with additional exnations while Sylwen, masquerading as Megan, attempted polite conversation with Firfel and Vivienne.

    Despite her efforts at friendliness, her difort around Firfel remained obvious.

    Arthur noticed her strained demeanor and reached out telepathically. "Act more naturally with Firfel. Your hatred toward your parents shouldn''t extend to her - she genuinely cares about you as her half-sister."

    Following his guidance, Sylwen forced herself to interact with Firfel more warmly.

    Firfel returned her smiles, sensing something oddly familiar about Megan. "I''d love to see some of your previous work... Which films have you been in?"

    Before Sylwen could flounder, Arthur interjected smoothly, "She''s worked mainly as an extra so far, still waiting for her breakthrough role."

    Firfel and Vivienne nodded sympathetically, knowing extras often ended up cut from final productions.

    "I actually admire both of you," Sylwen offered, carefully repeating Arthur''s telepathic prompts.

    She turned to Firfel first. "Your performances in Demonfather and Lord of the Rings were incredible."

    "What about me?" Vivienne asked yfully.

    "Um..." Sylwen waited for Arthur''s mental cue before continuing, "I know you from Demonfather and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon."

    "Hmm." Vivienne''s eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling you''re not sure what you''re talking about?"

    "I..." Sylwen struggled to respond.

    Vivienne''s face broke into a grin. "Just teasing you!"

    Sylwen managed an awkwardugh while Arthur shook his head at her obvious difficulties navigating the conversation.

    ***

    A few days into his Japon stay, while recruiting artists for his animation studio, Arthur began contemting a film project inspired by Nihhon City itself.

    The city''s architecture and atmosphere reminded him of Japan before its economic boom - the contrast between wealthy districts and poor quarters sparked his creativity. The setting seemed perfect for filming "Seven Samurai."

    Local politicians had weed Arthur and Hellfire Studio warmly during meetings two days prior, even arranging an audience with Japon''s royal prince - Akuma Yasushi.

    Hourster, in one of the city''s most prestigious restaurants, Arthur found himself face-to-face with the third prince of the royal Akuma family.

    Yasushi lounged in his seat with casual elegance, one leg crossed over the other, his single bull-like horn on his forehead catching the light. His posture projected both royal authority and modern sophistication.

    Arthur bowed with precise respect. "It''s an honor to meet the prince of Japon. I deeply appreciate you taking time for this meeting."

    From his rxed position, Yasushi regarded Arthur with measured interest. "Your reputation precedes you. Beyond being Morningstar Kingdom''s infamous prince, you''ve made quite a name in entertainment."

    Arthur smiled diplomatically. "That I have."

    "Please, sit," Yasushi gestured.

    As Arthur took his seat, the prince''s guards tensed visibly, their cold eyes fixed on him until Yasushi calmed them with a subtle hand motion.

    "I hear you''re nning a film about Japon samurai. This interests me greatly," Yasushi leaned forward slightly. "I appreciate you seeking our people''s consent before depicting samurai culture. We''re protective of how our history is interpreted."

    "It''s only proper," Arthur responded. "Understanding samurai culture requires insight from those who truly know their legacy."

    Yasushi nodded thoughtfully. "I know many samurai you could consult." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Though I wonder - why film in our kingdom when your VFX Studio could recreate any setting?"

    "VFX Studio has its limitations," Arthur replied candidly. "More importantly..." He met Yasushi''s gaze directly. "I aim to establish connections within your kingdom."

    A glint of understanding shed in Yasushi''s eyes.

    "I see," he said simply.

    "Consider the tourism benefits," Arthur continued. "Once people see the film, they''ll want to visit the actual locations."

    "Valid point." Yasushi''s tone grew measured. "But I sense your interests in my kingdom run deeper..."

    Arthur''s smile turned appreciative. "Perceptive."

    "So my instincts were correct. You harbor other motives," Yasushi stated, his eyes sharp.

    Arthur nodded, his thoughts running beyond mere artist recruitment. His vision included establishing manufacturing operations in Japon - specifically for Hellfire Electronics.

    The kingdom''s lowerbor costspared to Horn made it ideal for his future production needs. He was eyeing simr opportunities in Thorn and other Anatolian nations.

    His nned product line - Hellfire Console, Hellfire Computer, Hellfire VHS, Hellfire TV, and more - would need efficient, cost-effective manufacturing bases. Nations like Japon and Thorn, with theirpetitivebor markets, could make these ambitious production goals achievable.

    Japon''s workforce particrly appealed to him - theirbination of skill and reasonable wages could streamline his electronics production significantly.

    Arthurid out his ns openly to the prince - and Yasushi visibly appreciated his straightforward approach.

    While the prince seemed receptive to supporting Arthur''s ambitions, he''d need to navigate the proper channels through the king and royal advisors.

    During his two weeks in Japon, Arthur had cultivated rtionships with local politicians and major studio heads. Now he departed with his expanded group - Firfel, Vivienne, and their newest addition, Sylwen disguised as Megan.

 Chapter 156: Season One Ends and Golden Award Ceremony

    <h4>Chapter 156: Season One Ends and Golden Award Ceremony</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Back in Horn Kingdom, "Hellfire Got Talent" approached its climactic finish.

    Arthur felt satisfied seeing Frederick still in the running. The performer had built a dedicated following, with studio audiences now singing along to his performances.

    Yet thepetition remained fierce. The graceful "Ballet Charms" duo and the captivating singer "Arya Gold" stood among several formidable contestants.

    As the semi-finalsunched, viewers across Horn, Morningstar, Thorn, Choson, Japon, Bharat and parts of South East Anatolia tuned in wherever Hellfire''s signal towers reached.

    Public spaces with televisions drew crowds of eager viewers. Though TV ownership hadn''t yet be universal, people found ways to watch - flooding into restaurants, bars, and taverns.

    Establishment owners'' reactions varied. Some grumbled about non-paying viewers, while others weed the crowds, engaging them in conversation and buildingmunity around these shared viewing experiences.

    Days slipped by, culminating in Hellfire Got Talent''s season finale - Frederick facing off against Arya Gold.

    Across public spaces with TVs, viewers passionately defended their favorites.

    In a bustling Bharat restaurant, heated debates erupted.

    "Arya will win without question. Her beauty matches her heavenly voice," dered a blue-skinned demon.

    "Are you blind? Frederick''s talent is extraordinary, his songs touch the soul!"

    "Right! And he''s one of our own - support Frederick!"

    Simr arguments echoed through taverns and gathering spots everywhere.

    The moment of truth arrived at the Hellfire Got Talent studio. As votes from judges and audience members tallied, Frederick emerged victorious.

    He fought back tears while epting the trophy from Arthur himself.

    Arthur then turned to Arya, transforming her disappointment with an unexpected announcement - both performers would be signed to Hellfire Records.

    "As our runner-up, Arya Gold receives twenty thousand dors!" Arthur proimed. "Additionally, she''ll be offered a fifty-thousand-dor contract with Hellfire Records!"

    The audience erupted in apuse, Frederick joining in enthusiastically.

    Arthur knew Arya deserved this recognition. Without his subtle influence helping Frederick, she likely would have imed victory.

    He then revealed Frederick''s prizes - fifty thousand dors plus a hundred-thousand-dor contract offer.

    Viewers'' eyes widened at these life-changing sums. "Even second ce would set me for life! No more daily grind!" The math was simple andpelling - seventy thousand dors for runner-up alone!

    Already, millions nned their auditions for next season.

    ***

    Frederick and Arya signed with Hellfire Records without hesitation, thoughpetingbels aggressively pursued them. Television exposure had transformed these neers into hotmodities in the music industry.

    While the duo''s rejection disappointed otherbels, they sessfully signed several Top 10 contestants from Hellfire Got Talent, though most talents still gravitated toward Hellfire Records.

    The show''s innovative format -bining talent discovery with lucrative sponsorships andmercial revenue - caught Empirica''s attention.

    Soon, copycat talent shows emerged across Empirica. However, thanks to Hellfire Daily and Forbes Magazine''s recent cirction in the nation, the public recognized these programs as imitations. Hellfire Channel''s expansion into several Empirican states immediately after season one''s finale only reinforced their position as the original.

    Waves Corporation''s backing proved crucial - their strong support helped Hellfire establish clear ownership of the talent show format through repeated broadcasts of the original program.

    Repeated broadcasts of Hellfire Got Talent drew constantparisons with its imitators, viewers consistently praising the original''s superior production value and more discerning judges.

    Besides that, James ze and Nirvana''s music found even broader acim. Though their songs had circted in Empirica before, television exposure catapulted their poprity to new heights.

    The "Devil''s Horn" trend spread like wildfire within days. Srus watched with growing rm as demon influence permeated human society. They actively backedpeting channels while warning their followers about the dangers of "Devil''s Horn" fashion.

    ***

    Byte February, Arthur led his entourage to Empirica - Clint, Benny, Vivienne, Firfel, and the principal cast of Demonfather and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

    Their airship touched down in Angels City, where a wall of reporters and cameramen awaited. The evolution of television had brought new media tools - cameras whirred and microphones thrust forward eagerly.

    "Mr. Pendragon!" A reporter called above the mor. "How confident are you about your Golden Laurel nominations?"

    Arthur''s smile carried measured confidence. "Nothing''s certain in this industry. But our films stand a strong chance."

    Among the barrage of questions, Arthur overheard reporters pressing Firfel and the others.

    "Ms. Firfel! Is it true that Mr. Pendragon harassed you during the filming of Lord of the Rings or Demonfather?"

    Arthur''s expression darkened at the usation.

    Firfel shared a gentleugh with Vivienne and other female cast members. "No... Arthur maintains absolute professionalism during filming..." she defended, her voice clear and firm.

    They fielded more questions until airport security helped escort them through the crowd.

    "These ridiculous rumors keep spreading," Arthur grumbled.

    Firfel stifled anotherugh behind her hand. "Well, director harassment is unfortunatelymon in this industry."

    Arthur shook his head in disgust. Angels City unfolded before them, its streets lined with gleaming automobiles and art deco buildings. Neon signs flickered to life as evening approached, their glow reflecting off chrome and ss.

    After checking into their hotel, anticipation built for the uing ceremony. The Golden Laurel Awards would make history as the first nationally televised award show, broadcast on Golden Channel.

    Television would bring millions of viewers into the prestigious event for the first time.

    The Impact Theatre, owned by the prominent camera manufacturer Impact, buzzed with energy as the ceremony began. Celebrities, directors, and writers walked the red carpet while cameras captured every moment. Crowds pressed against barriers, cheering their favorites.

    When Arthur''s group arrived, the cheers crescendoed.

    "Arthur Corleone!" fan groups chanted in unison.

    The crowd''s enthusiasm extended to Firfel, Vivienne, Clint, Benny, and the entire cast.

    Arthur couldn''t ignore the evidence - his influence now truly reached worldwide.

    Soon, Arthur found himself mingling with human superstars like Lewis Light. Though still the industry''s most renowned actor, Light''s prominence had begun to wane with the rise of VFX-heavy films and television.

    He wasn''t alone - many prominent actors from the pre-TV era saw their fame declining. While Lewis and some others adapted, epting telenov roles and embracing VFX-heavy productions, those who stubbornly resisted change faded into obscurity.

    "I''d love to work with you someday," Lewis confided to Arthur. "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly is my favorite film." He gestured toward a portly man engaged with other celebrities. "That''s my manager - please contact him if any suitable projectse up."

    "It''s certainly possible," Arthur replied diplomatically. "You''re a talented actor." Thisworking opportunity was precisely why he''d attended the ceremony.

    He recognized the Golden Laurel Awards'' simrity to the Oscars from his previous life - which meant his chances of winning were slim. But victory wasn''t his goal. Connecting with skilled actors like Lewis Light and other industry talents mattered more.

    Besides, Arthur already nned to establish his own award ceremonies back in Horn Kingdom - equivalents to the Oscars and Grammys.

    Whether he imed a Golden Laurel or not, these new awards would serve his broader strategy. Rather than constantly seeking out industry connections, he''d create events that drew them to him.

    Arthur found himself at the center of more attention than expected. Celebrities constantly orbited him, showering him with borate praise and thinly veiled requests for coboration.

    The hostility from certain directors, particrly Dous Harper, stood in sharp contrast. Dous''s hatred for Arthur had be industry legend - a fact Arthur noticed but deliberately ignored. He saw no value in feeding such petty antagonism.

    The ceremony began with its hosts taking the stage - a stunning young woman named Selina Taylor paired with a seasoned actor. Selina''s presence immediately caught Arthur''s attention.

    Her uncanny resemnce to a young Marilyn Monroe struck him. ''Why am I only seeing a Marilyn equivalent now?'' Arthur thought to himself as he studied her movements.

    Selinamanded the microphone with natural charisma. From whispered conversations with neighboring directors, Arthur learned she''d emerged from a telenov that premiered just two weeks ago.

    ''Still fresh to the industry...'' Arthur''s mind began calcting possibilities. ''Perfect timing to bring her under my agency''s wing...''

 Chapter 157: Winners

    <h4>Chapter 157: Winners</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Selina and her co-host Dn kicked off the ceremony with yful jabs at attending celebrities.

    "Lewis Light - who could forget this superstar? His role in ''Serial Mage'' was unforgettable. ying that deranged mage experimenting on children... he traumatized kids worldwide!" Selina''s delivery drew appreciativeughter. "Surely he''s a frontrunner for tonight''s Golden Laurel."

    Lewis took the joke gracefully, chuckling as fellow actors elbowed him yfully, whisperingments.

    "Lewis was brilliant, true - but let''s not forget Michael Corleone," Dn interjected.

    The mention of "Michael Corleone" drew every eye to Arthur''s table.

    "Now there''s a chilling viin - one who''d even kill his own brother. Not exactly less disturbing than Lewis''s role," Selina noted, casting a nce toward Arthur. "Perhaps Arthur was just channeling his demonic nature."

    Freshughter rippled through the audience.

    Arthur smiled, impressed by both hosts'' natural chemistry. His mind already working on ways to bring them to Hellfire Got Talent.

    "Now," Selina transitioned smoothly, "let''s begin with our first category - Best Supporting Actor."

    The category raised eyebrows - dominated by three actors from "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly."

    Clint, Benny, and Lei had all positioned themselves as supporting actors, creating an unprecedented situation that drew curious looks to their table.

    "Hope there''s no hard feelings when I win," Lei announced with theatrical arrogance.

    "Don''t get cocky, Elf. That award''sing home with me," Benny shot back.

    "Hehe, when''s thest time a dwarf actor won anything prestigious? Dream on," Lei chuckled smugly.

    "Don''t count me out just yet," Clint reminded them both.

    On stage, Selina and Dn built the tension before announcing in unison, "Best Supporting Actor goes to - Benny Cave!"

    Apuse erupted while Benny sat frozen in disbelief. His earlier bravado with Lei had been just that - he''d actually been pulling for Clint to win.

    "Mr. Cave? We''re waiting," Selina called again warmly.

    Clint broke Benny''s stupor with a friendly nudge.

    Benny swallowed hard, momentarily struggling with his chair height before making his way through the focused gazes of the audience.

    Once on stage, Selina thoughtfully adjusted the microphone to his level.

    "First of all, I am very grateful to win this award..." Benny''s voice wavered, eyes glistening. "I''m very proud of this moment... I know my family back home will burst with pride seeing their son holding a Golden Laurel Award!"

    Thunderous apuse filled the theater.

    "Who would you like to thank for this achievement?" Dn prompted gently.

    Benny''s smile carried deep emotion as he looked toward Clint. "I thank my friend Clint for always being there-" his gaze shifted to Arthur, "And I''m eternally grateful to Boss Arthur for the opportunity. None of this would''ve been possible without him."

    Fresh apuse greeted Benny''s win. Arthur felt genuine joy for the dwarf actor - after decades in the industry, Benny had finally imed a prestigious award at age sixty. A well-deserved recognition.

    The ceremony moved to Best Supporting Actress. Firfel''s nomination for Demonfather Part 2 highlighted her powerful scene rejecting Michael, but victory eluded her.

    Noting her disappointment, Arthur leaned close. "There''s always next time." He offered an encouraging smile. "Who knows? Next year''s Golden Laurel might see you winning Best Actress."

    "I hope so." Firfel managed a gentle smile. "Though I try not to expect too much. Being part of such an amazing film, just having the chance to act - that''s already a blessing."

    Vivienne actually imed Best Supporting Actress for her role in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon."

    During her heartfelt eptance speech, she made sure to acknowledge both Arthur and Firfel''s impact on her career. Upon returning to their table, Firfel embraced her with genuine warmth.

    As the categories progressed, tension mounted for the moment Arthur had been anticipating - Best Director.

    Both "Demonfather Part 2" and "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" represented what he considered his finest directorial achievements.

    The announcement sent ripples of surprise through the entire audience.

    "And the Golden Laurel for Best Director goes to... Stuart Barker for ''Cold Blooded'' - an As Entertainment production!"

    Stuart ascended the stage with barely contained smugness, his gaze sweeping across the nominated directors before fixing on Arthur with unconcealed arrogance.

    "My thanks to As Entertainment and Titan Pictures for funding Cold Blooded." His eptance speech was as brief as it was pointed.

    Arthur maintained hisposure with a slight smile.

    "Are you alright?" Firfel whispered, concern evident in her voice.

    "I''m fine," Arthur assured her with a genuine nod. "To be honest, I wasn''t really expecting to win."

    Firfel admired Arthur''s graceful eptance, while Vivienne extended her award with a yful smile. "If you want a Golden Laurel, you can have mine."

    "Keep it - you earned that one," Arthur declined without hesitation.

    As the evening progressed, the Best Actor category brought an unexpected turn - Arthur''s name echoed through the theater.

    He approached the podium with measured steps. "Funny - I was expecting Best Director, but life has other ns," he quipped.

    Softughter rippled through the audience. The unspoken truth hung heavy - Arthur deserved the directing award, but the academy''s ties to Titan Pictures and other major studios ran deep.

    "Still, I''m grateful for this recognition," he continued smoothly. "Another trophy for the collection. Perhaps I should consider switching careers entirely."

    More appreciative chuckles followed.

    "I have only myself and my helpful assistant to thank-" Arthur said, his "assistant" actually being his system. Then, with a grin, he added, "And since we''re on TV, I''d suggest everyone pick up a copy of Demonfather from your local film store. Enjoy my films, and thank you!"

    His casual departure from the stage, award in hand, spoke volumes.

    The Best Picture announcement proved anticlimactic - both "Demonfather Part 2" and "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" lost to "Cold Blooded."

    Industry veterans exchanged knowing nces. Arthur''s films clearly deserved the honor, but some truths remained better left unspoken.

    The politics were transparent - As, Titan, and other major studios had clearly influenced the Academy''s voting.

    They''d thrown Arthur the Best Actor award despite Lewis Light''s superior performance in "Serial Mage" as constion - or perhaps mockery, forcing a director to ept recognition as an actor instead.

    After all, true filmmakers took greatest pride in their craft behind the camera.

    ***

    The next day, the Golden Laurel Award Ceremony broadcast across Empirica''s states on television.

    Public dissatisfaction erupted when the beloved "Demonfather Part 2" lost to "Cold Blooded," a rtively unknown film. However, Arthur''s Best Actor win as Michael Corleone sparked renewed interest in Demonfather, driving tourists back to Horn Kingdom to visit the sequel''s filming locations.

    News channels and newspapers stoked public interest with rumors that Titan Pictures, still bitter over their losses to Hellfire Studio, had orchestrated the oue to diminish Arthur''s potential awards. The television coverage painted Titan Pictures as unprofessional, damaging their reputation with these apparent machinations.

    Though Demonfather and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly missed the prestigious Best Picture trophy, they''d achieved something more valuable - capturing audiences'' hearts.

    ***

    Arthur brushed aside the award politics, focusing instead on recruiting rising talents Selina Taylor and Dn Smith.

    Their agency''s excessive demandsplicated negotiations. After careful consideration, Arthur secured only Selina Taylor for seventy thousand dors.

    Morris Golden Agency celebrated what they saw as an outrageous overpayment.

    Who would invest such money in a rising actress from a faltering telenov with increasingly inconsistent plotting?

    The industry watched in surprise as Arthur immediately pulled Selina from the show, forcing writers to kill off her character. Though he paid additional penalties for breaking her contract with thework, Arthur considered it a worthwhile investment.

    He had extensive ns for Selina''s future.

 Chapter 158: HP

    <h4>Chapter 158: HP</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    With my Empirica business concluded - new industry connections established, contact lists filled with writers, directors, and actors, plus securing the blonde beauty Selina Taylor - it was time to return to Horn Kingdom.

    Our first-ss cabin held an interesting group: Sylwen maintaining her Megan disguise, and Selina Taylor, my newest talent, who''d need to relocate to Horn for uing projects.

    I noticed her fidgeting as we settled into our seats. "Still nervous?"

    Selina shifted ufortably, "Yeah... I''ve never been to the demon realm before. I''m kind of anxious about what I''ll find there..."

    "Just rx," I assured her with a smile. "You handle crowds brilliantly with such confidence. A foreignnd shouldn''t pose much challenge."

    Her cheeks colored at thepliment. "I only look confident because I imagine everyone as cupcakes. My mother''s trick for handling crowd nervousness."

    "A ssic approach," I chuckled. "The demon realm isn''t so different from what you know. Just picture demons as humans or cupcakes - or fish, whatever works for you."

    Selina''s smile turned bashful, a blush creeping across her face.

    "Something wrong?" I prompted.

    She shook her head quickly. "No, nothing." A pause. "I''m just relieved the rumors about you weren''t true..."

    "Oh? Which rumors?" I knew perfectly well, but wanted her perspective.

    Selina hesitated visibly.

    "Go ahead, you can tell me," I encouraged.

    She took a deep breath. "Well... people say Director Arthur bribes pretty women into his bed, takes advantage of them..." Her face reddened deeply at the admission.

    Beside me, Sylwen barely contained herughter behind her hand.

    <i>''Wonderful... I''d love to know who''s spreading that nonsense.''</i>

    "Don''t worry," I assured Selina. "I''m not that kind of person."

    She nodded, visibly relieved.

    "Unless I''m actually an incubus demon," I added yfully.

    Selina''s startled yelp was worth it.

    "Just kidding," Iughed, enjoying her reaction.

    I shifted our conversation to more serious matters,ying out my ns for Selina''s career.

    First, I wanted her to model for the uing "yboy" magazine - a new venture I''dunch following Forbes Magazine''s sess. Beyond that, I envisioned her as the star of future film projects.

    "Titanic" particrly came to mind. She''d fit the role perfectly.

    I''d initially considered Firfel, but I couldn''t envision her in the famous scene where she poses nude¡ªit would gopletely against her will.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Back in Horn Kingdom, Selina''s nervousness lingered as she navigated the streets.

    Arthur guided her through Hellfire Headquarters with an encouraging smile, particrly showcasing the vast, impressive expanse of Hellfire VFX Studio.

    She peppered him with questions about future VFX-heavy productions like Lord of the Rings or The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

    Arthur maintained a knowing smile, keeping his ns close. Though he''d already begun developing his next VFX project, it would still require extensive location shooting.

    Meanwhile, in Wales, Leaf Kingdom, and Deutd, his Harry Potter novel had gained significant traction in the publishing world.

    The newly established Hellfire Studio branch in Wales had begun casting calls for Harry Potter roles weeks ago.

    Arthur regrly reviewed candidate photos from the branch, searching for the perfect young actors. While several showed promise, none yet matched his precise vision for the characters.

    ***

    Five dayster, the "yboy" magazine''s debut shocked Horn''s publishing industry.

    Vivienne graced the inaugural cover, headlined: "Half-demon Half-human Beauty!" The magazine distinguished itself with sophisticated aesthetics and polished presentation, incorporating lifestyle journalism alongside its alluring content.

    Unlike typical subus-focused magazines with their explicit nudity, yboy''s first issue featured Vivienne in artistic shots that bnced sensuality with restraint. Her participation, as an established star, challenged the stigma surrounding such publications.

    The cover photo captured her in lingerie with artistic ir, while the magazine''s high-quality content drew readers beyond mere physical appeal.

    Within two days, Arthur''s new publication achieved impressive sales.

    Selina, initially hesitant about future cover appearances, found reassurance in Vivienne''s confident approach.

    She observed how readers maintained - even increased - their respect for Vivienne despite her presence in an adult magazine.

    In the days since arriving in Horn, Selina had found an unexpected friend in Vivienne. Now they stood together in the magazine store, watching as male customers approached Vivienne with respectful admiration, politely requesting photos and autographs.

    "See?" Vivienne gestured at the courteous fans. "A little freedom isn''t harmful. There''s nothing shameful about it, especially when you maintain dignity in the presentation."

    Selina nodded thoughtfully, "I suppose... I was just worried about losing respect. Back in Tinseltown, celebrities look down on adult magazines."

    Vivienne shook her head knowingly. "Just trust Arthur on this. He might not show it openly, but he holds deep respect for women. He''d never allow his talents to be degraded on any magazine cover."

    The warmth of reassurance spread through Selina''s chest at these words.

    "Have you met with the director for the film project that Arthur assigned to you?" Vivienne asked.

    Selina nodded. "Yes, met him already. He seems decent enough."

    "If that director tries anything inappropriate, tell me immediately. I''ll report him to Arthur," Vivienne''s protective instinct surfaced.

    Selina nodded gratefully at the offer.

    Vivienne saw much of herself in Selina. Their shared humanity created an instant connection - as a half-demon, Vivienne often struggled to rte to pure demons.

    Meanwhile, Selina''s hesitation about yboy began to fade. If an established star like Vivienne embraced such opportunities without fear, perhaps she could too.

    ***

    In Wales, Arthur continued his recent pattern of frequent travel, with Sylwen - disguised as Megan - serving as his acting secretary.

    His current mission: overseeing Harry Potter casting. Days earlier, a promising photo had crossed his desk - a child who perfectly matched his vision for the main character.

    Now he needed to assess the boy''s acting potential, though Arthur knew talent could be developed. Finding a child who physically embodied Harry Potter had proved challenging enough.

    As their airship touched down and they headed toward Hellfire''s studio branch, Cardiff''s streets reminded Arthur strongly of his previous life''s London.

    In their taxi, Sylwen leaned close. "We''re being followed, boss," she whispered.

    "I know," Arthur murmured back. "Likely your old friends from the Skull Organization."

    Sylwen''s terse nod confirmed his suspicion.

    Arthur felt confident despite the probable Skull Organization surveince. They were likely investigating Sylwen''s "disappearance," but their presence didn''t concern him.

    Upon entering the Hellfire building, staff immediately recognized Arthur, whisking him and Sylwen to an ongoing executive conference.

    The fiend demon named Zack, Arthur''s appointed president for the Wales branch, initially bristled at the interruption before recognizing his visitor. "Boss Arthur!" he eximed. "We weren''t expecting you - you should have notified us!"

    Arthur settled into the head chair with casual authority. "No need for notification. I''m here for one reason." He fixed his gaze on the room. "It''s been weeks - I want to see our Harry Potter casting progress."

    After Zack''s detailed briefing, they proceeded to meet the potential cast members.

    Arthur stroked his chin thoughtfully, contemting approaching Lewis Light for a role to elerate production. His attention fixed on a shy, bespectacled boy apanied by his mother. "He looks more like Harry in person," he murmured.

    "Your thoughts, boss?" Zack asked anxiously.

    "You''ve done well finding him," Arthur nodded. "He matches my vision for Harry."

    Zack released a relieved sigh.

    "Now let''s test his acting ability." At Arthur''s word, Zack hurried to summon the boy.

    The young boy shifted nervously before the assembled demons. Like most human children, his instincts warned him to fear beings like Arthur, Zack, and the other Hellfire staff.

    "Please excuse my son''s nervousness. He''s always like this," his mother apologized.

    Arthur offered a reassuring smile, understanding the natural wariness human children felt toward demons. "No need to worry. It''s perfectly normal."

    The mother''s tension visibly eased at his response.

    "What''s your name, boy?" Arthur asked gently.

    "My name is Daniel, sir," the child replied, eyes downcast.

    Arthur caught his breath at the coincidence - even sharing the same name as the Harry Potter actor from his previous life.

    "Daniel..." Arthur repeated thoughtfully. "Would you show me what you can do, Daniel?"

    "What I can do?" Daniel looked up, confused.

    "Yes. Your acting ability," Arthur rified with an encouraging nod.

 Chapter 159: Miracle

    <h4>Chapter 159: Miracle</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Daniel''s throat tightened as he stood before the panel of demons, their otherworldly features making his palms sweat. The weight of their expectations ¨C and his mother''s hopeful nces ¨C pressed down on his small shoulders like a physical burden.

    When he tried to perform, his movements were wooden, his voice barely above a whisper. Each word from the script felt like a stone in his mouth.

    Arthur raised a hand, gently halting the audition. "Thank you, Daniel." His gaze shifted to the boy''s mother, his expression carefully neutral. "Mrs. Hayes, I don''t believe Daniel is quite ready for this role. The camera picks up reluctance, and right now, I''m seeing a very ufortable young man."

    "Oh, no, you misunderstand!" Danica stepped forward, her fingers threading protectively through Daniel''s hair. "He''s just shy around new people. Especially..." She caught herself before saying ''demons,'' but the word hung unspoken in the air.

    Arthur leaned forward in his chair, his voice softening. "I''ve been in this industry long enough to recognize the difference between stage fright and genuine difort. My films are significantmitments ¨C months of shooting, intense schedules. The lead actor needs to want this, truly want it."

    The truth of Arthur''s words settled heavily in the room. Even if Daniel was Harry Potter''s mirror image, even if Arthur was willing to invest time training him, forcing an unwilling child into such a demanding role would be cruel.

    "But he does want it!" Danica insisted, her grip on Daniel''s shoulder tightening slightly. "Tell them, sweetheart."

    Arthur held up a hand, addressing Daniel directly. "Let me ask you something, and I want you to bepletely honest." His eyes, though supernatural in their intensity, held genuine kindness. "Do you actually want to be the star of this film?"

    Daniel froze, caught between his mother''s expectant gaze and Arthur''s gentle inquiry. His mouth opened, but Arthur spoke again before he could force out the answer his mother wanted to hear.

    "There''s no wrong answer here," Arthur assured him. "If you''re not ready for this industry ¨C or if you''re unsure about working with demons ¨C that''s perfectly fine. Talent doesn''t expire. The door will always be open if you change your mindter."

    Something in Arthur''s words struck a chord. Daniel''s eyes widened, surprised that this demon director had seen straight through to the heart of his hesitation.

    The weight of his situation pressed heavily on his young shoulders.

    The entertainment industry''s reputation haunted him through his father''s warnings ¨C whispered tales of corruption that made no distinction between human, elf, dwarf, or demon productions. Yet here he stood, desperate circumstances forcing his hand.

    His father''s illness had stretched on for weeks, draining not just their hopes but their savings. He could see the worry lines deepening on his mother''s face with each passing day. The choice before him felt less like a decision and more like an inevitability.

    But Arthur''s unexpected kindness ¨C the absence of pressure ¨C sparked something in Daniel. Drawing a deep breath, he squared his shoulders. "I want to be part of your film project."

    Relief softened Danica''s features as her son spoke the words she''d been praying to hear.

    Arthur''s expression turned serious, his eyes holding Daniel''s gaze. "Then understand this ¨C I ept nothing less than totalmitment. Half-hearted performances have no ce in my productions."

    Daniel nodded, then surprised everyone ¨C including himself ¨C by speaking up. "Could I... could I ask for something in return?"

    "Oh?" Arthur''s eyebrows lifted with genuine curiosity. "What might that be?"

    Danica tensed beside her son, maternal instinct sensing dangerous territory ahead.

    "I''ve heard..." Daniel''s voice wavered but didn''t break, "that demons can perform rituals... healing rituals." His fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt. "My father... could you heal him?"

    "Heal your father?" Arthur''s question hung in the air between them.

    "It''s nothing!" Danica cut in quickly, nervousughter bubbling up. "Please ignore him, sir¡ª"

    Arthur raised a hand, silencing her protest. "Your father is ill?"

    Daniel nodded, determination recing his earlier nervousness. "If my father gets better... I promise I''ll give you my best performance."

    "What are you thinking?" Danica hissed, horror coloring her whispered words. "Demon rituals? Have you forgotten our Srus faith?"

    Daniel turned to his mother, desperation clear in his young face. "The Srus healers couldn''t help him, Mom. Maybe Mr. Arthur can..."

    A soft chuckle escaped Arthur as he caught their exchange. "Healing your father?" His lips curved into a knowing smile. "That''s quite simple, actually."

    Behind his casual demeanor, Arthur''s mind raced with possibilities. This could be the perfect opportunity to test his {Rose Magic}''s healing properties on humans. Sometimes the most interesting experiments arose from the most unexpected moments.

    "Really?" Daniel''s face transformed, hope lighting up his features for the first time since entering the studio. The change was striking ¨C gone was the nervous boy, reced by a child burning with possibility.

    Danica''s skepticism warred with desperate hope on her face. Even the demon executives exchanged puzzled nces, their thoughts practically visible: ''Since when could our kind heal?'' ''Does Boss Arthur possess some secret magic?''

    Arthur met Daniel''s eager gaze steadily. "If youmit yourself fully to the film and join my agency, I''ll do everything in my power to help your father."

    "I promise!" The words burst from Daniel without hesitation.

    "Very well." Arthur rose from his chair, his movement fluid and purposeful. "Take me to him. While I can''t guarantee a cure, I do have... methods that might help."

    The journey to their home passed in tense silence ¨C through Cardiff''s winding streets, into a taxi that had seen better days, finally stopping before a weathered apartmentplex that spoke of dignity struggling against poverty.

    Inside, the scene that greeted them struck Arthur like a physical blow. On a narrow bedy a man whose illness had carved away at him, leaving behind a shadow that fought for each ragged breath.

    "Father!" Daniel rushed to the bedside, Danica close behind, her face etched with quiet despair.

    Landon''s eyes fluttered open, focusing with visible effort. "Daniel... Son¡ª" A coughing fit interrupted his words, shaking his frail frame.

    "Easy, Dad." Daniel sped his father''s hand, hope threading through his voice. "We found someone who can help you."

    Another harsh cough preceded Landon''s bitter words. "I told you both... to stop wasting money on those... Srus priests!"

    "No, Dad ¨C we brought a demon!"

    Landon''s coughing ceased abruptly, shock momentarily overwhelming even his illness. "You what?"

    His gaze found Arthur, fixing on the horns that marked him unmistakably as demon-kind. Disbelief and anger warred in his fevered eyes. "Why would you bring... a demon can''t possibly..."

    "But Dad, your stories always said demons could¡ª" Daniel started.

    "Those were fairy tales!" Landon''s outburst triggered another coughing spell. "No demon today has the power to trade wishes for souls! That''s just... fantasy..."

    Arthur stepped forward, his presence filling the small room. "Save your strength. I''m here to heal you, not debate folklore."

    "Get out!" Landon''s rejection came between gasping breaths, one trembling hand raised in a dismissive gesture. "No demon can... help me now..."

    The hopelessness in Landon''s voice cast a shadow over his family''s faces, theirst threads of optimism unraveling. But as Arthur stepped forward with quiet confidence, something in his demeanor made them hesitate to look away.

    Despite Landon''s weakened protests, Arthur''s presence was immovable as mountain stone. His hand settled on Landon''s chest, and the man''s resistance melted away beneath the weight of that demon certainty.

    Arthur''s expression sharpened as his {Rose Magic} probed deeper, mapping the infection that had taken root in Landon''s lungs. "Why didn''t you seek proper medical care? The hospitals have potions specifically for this condition."

    Another coughing fit wracked Landon''s frame before he could answer. "Forty dors... for treatment," he managed, bitter irony twisting his words. "We scraped together fifteen for the priest... emptied our savings for that much..."

    A flicker ofpassion crossed Arthur''s features. "Then fortune favors you today. This illness? It''s well within my power to remedy."

    "What?" The word escaped Landon in a breathless whisper, echoed by his stunned family.

    Arthur''s smile held secrets as he channeled his magic. The {Rose Magic} flowed like liquid light, and Landon''s eyes widened as vitality flooded back into his limbs. The transformation was swift yet profound ¨C weakness falling away like an old coat shrugged off his shoulders.

    Landon sat up, wonder written across his face as he flexed his fingers, pressed a hand to his chest. "This... this is impossible," he breathed, voice clear and strong for the first time in weeks. "I feel better than before I fell ill!"

    Joy exploded across Daniel''s face as heunched himself into his father''s arms. Danica followed, tears streaming freely as their family embrace tightened.

    "Wait¡ª" Landon''s voice cut through their celebration, turning to Arthur with sudden wariness. "Is this... are you iming one of our souls as payment? That''s how the stories always go..."

    A softugh escaped Arthur. "Nothing so dramatic. I have no interest in souls." His gaze shifted to Daniel, warming slightly. "I simply want your son''s dedication to my film and agency. That''s payment enough."

 Chapter 160: Oddball

    <h4>Chapter 160: Oddball</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    I made sure the Hayes family would keep quiet about me healing Landon - they agreed pretty easily, which wasn''t surprising.

    Now that we had our Harry Potter, the team and I focused on finding the rest of the cast. The Hermione role attracted quite a crowd - mostly unknown kids and some young actresses trying their luck.

    I hadn''t been in Wales long before the media caught on. Once they reported about Hellfire Studio holding auditions, even more people started showing up. That''s what happens when you get a bit of fame, I suppose.

    Even though people here in Wales aren''t too friendly toward demons, they couldn''t really ignore Hellfire Studio. The sess of "Demonfather" and "Lord of the Rings" made sure of that.

    We found someone good for Dumbledore pretty quickly. I''d wanted the actor who yed Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, but he was tied up with other projects.

    The cast list kept growing day by day. We even found a promising girl for Hermione - pretty enough for the role and didn''t mind working with demons, which was a nice bonus.

    It''s been about a week in Wales now. Funny thing is, I actually miss that Cursed Chicken back home - it made a better rm clock than the local clock tower with its morning bells.

    Between auditions, we''ve been checking out different spots around the city for filming. Need to find the right ces for those early Harry Potter scenes.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Arthur''s return to filmmaking sparked immediate media attention when he was spotted in Wales'' capital. The news spread like wildfire across televisionworks, drawing both excitement and skepticism from different quarters.

    Headlines zed across newspapers and television broadcasts, each vying to capture the significance of his return:

    "Arthur Pendragon Returns to Film - Will the Industry Crown Him King Once Again?"

    "Demon Director''s Comeback: Can Arthur Navigate Today''s Competitive Film Landscape?"

    Industry veterans had assumed Arthur would remain focused on television, where he''d built an undisputed empire. His dominance of TV programming wasplete - from gripping telenovs to cutting-edge news coverage to the phenomenon of Hellfire Got Talent. Otherworks found themselves constantly ying catch-up to his innovations.

    He could have easily rested on his television sess. The industry consensus was that Arthur had found his true calling in TV media, where his creative control was absolute and profits steady.

    Yet Arthur hadn''t forgotten his roots in film. His nned returnmanded attention, especially given how the industry had evolved in his absence.

    The Lava Brothers had risen to prominence in Morningstar, while Mouse Entertainment and the Bryan Brothers dominated the United States of Empirica. Enchanted Pictures and Landscape Studio controlled the Ethiopia Nation market, and several major studios in the dwarven kingdoms had established themselves as consistent hit-makers.

    These studios had fully embraced VFX technology, producing blockbusters that regrly pulled in tens of millions at the box office. A select few had even broken the two-hundred-million barrier, a feat that would have seemed impossible just a few years earlier.

    Arthur''s consistent sess in the film industry had set a high bar for his return. The anticipation of his next project divided audiences ¨C some eagerly awaiting another masterpiece from Hellfire Studio, while others silently hoped for his downfall.

    ***

    King''s Cross station stretched before Arthur, its Victorian architecture perfect for Harry Potter''s early scenes. He nned to capture the outdoor sequences here before moving to Hellfire''s VFX Studio in Horn Kingdom for the rest of production.

    Despite Arthur''s tensions with the Srus faith, city authorities had granted filming permits readily enough. The decision made sense ¨C Arthur''s films had a proven track record of boosting tourism wherever they filmed, and the city stood to benefit if their locations made the final cut.

    Curious onlookers gathered around the Hellfire production crew, their whispered conversations carrying across the tform.

    "That''s him ¨C the one who made Lord of the Rings?" A woman whispered to herpanion. "He''s actually quite handsome in person."

    Her friend nodded, unconsciously biting her lower lip. "More than handsome ¨C he''s gorgeous!"

    "I heard he''s single," another woman chimed in. "Perhaps you should try your luck?"

    The first woman snorted derisively. "Are you mad? Handsome or not, I wouldn''t mate with a demon." She lowered her voice. "Besides, everyone knows he''s so weak he can''t even manage a simple fireball!"

    "Such a waste," her friend shook her head pityingly. "As a mage, I couldn''t risk having children with such a magically stunted demon, prince or not..."

    The crowd''s chatter continued, their attention split between the filming process and Arthur himself. While they imed interest in the production, their true fascination clearly centered on the demon director who''d captured the industry''s imagination.

    Arthur spotted them in the growing crowd ¨C the masked operatives trying to blend in among the onlookers. Their presence wasn''t surprising; they''d been shadowing him since Wales, either hunting for Sylwen or coveting his ring.

    He felt no fear at their presence, just mild irritation. In such a public space, they wouldn''t risk making a move. Still, he''d prefer to avoid drawing their organization''s attention if possible.

    "Arthur Morningstar! Atst we meet face-to-face!"

    The booming voice cut through the station''s ambient noise, drawing every eye. Arthur turned to find a young man in an impably tailored suit, his smile carrying the easy confidence of nobility.

    "I''ve been quite eager to test my skills against yours!" the man announced.

    The crowd''s reaction was immediate. "Genesis Whitlock ¨C the Whitlock family''s prodigy!" The whispers spread like wildfire.

    "The same Genesis who''s been challenging every genius at Royal Academy?"

    "What could he want with a mere film director?"

    "But Arthur has nobat skills or magic!" a dwarf in the crowd protested.

    Someone spotted the camera crew trailing Genesis. "Look ¨C Whitlock Network! This must be for his show!"

    Understanding dawned among the onlookers. Genesis had recentlyunched "Duel with a Prodigy" on his family''s fledglingwork.

    The program featured him challenging prominent figures to impromptu battles, from renowned directors to fellow noble heirs. His victories and asional hard-fought draws had quickly built the show''s reputation.

    Now he stood before Arthur, clearly hoping to add another notable name to his list of conquests.

    Arthur''s smile held no warmth. "Test your skills? Are weparing directing abilities here?"

    "Tsk, tsk." Genesis waggled his finger with theatrical ir. "We both know I couldn''t match your directorial talent." He shifted into a fighting stance, cameras tracking his every movement. "No, I want to test my martial arts against you."

    Arthur stared at him, bemused. Wales seemed to breed its own special brand of entric.

    "Don''t worry," Genesis''s tone dripped condescension. "I know you''re not particrly strong. I''ll make sure to hold back."

    "You want to fight right here?" Arthur pointed to the station floor, voice t. "Right now?"

    "Exactly!" Genesis''s giggle echoed through the station. "Show me what you''re capable of!"

    Arthur crossed his arms, casting a subtle nce toward the masked figures in the crowd. "Sorry. I''m busy."

    Genesis''s expression darkened. "You don''t have a choice in this matter." His voice turned sharp. "Remember where you are ¨C this isn''t your demon realm!"

    Before Arthur could respond, Genesis lunged forward, fist aimed at his face. ''Foolish kid,'' Arthur thought.

    A year ago, such an attack might have posed a threat. But now? Arthur sidestepped the punch with casual ease, pivoted behind Genesis, and delivered a precise chop to the side of his neck.

    Genesis crumpled to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

    The silence that followed was absolute. You could have heard a pin drop in the station.

    The Whitlock Network camera crew stood frozen, jaws hanging open, their expensive equipment temporarily forgotten.

    Reality snapped back into focus secondster. The camera crew scrambled to Genesis''s side, abandoning their equipment. "Young lord! Young lord!"

    They shook him frantically, relief washing over their faces when they realized he was merely unconscious.

    "Go on now. Shoo." Arthur dismissed them with a casual wave. They didn''t need to be told twice, scooping up Genesis and fleeing the scene.

    The crowd erupted in excited whispers, especially among the women who had dismissed him earlier. "Did that really just happen? He took down Genesis like it was nothing!" one woman gasped.

    "He made it look effortless!" her friend gushed.

    "I might have been too hasty judging him," another woman murmured, eyeing Arthur with newfound interest. "Perhaps I should reconsider that whole mating possibility..."

    Several women stepped forward, clearly hoping to catch Arthur''s attention, but he remained focused on the film crew as they prepared for the next shot. Their attempts at flirtation fell t against his professional demeanor.

 Chapter 161: Waste potential

    <h4>Chapter 161: Waste potential</h4>

    (Daniel Hayes POV)

    I''m not gonna lie, at first, before Arthur healed my father, I was terrified of him - after all, he is a demon. Even after seeing him heal my father, which I''m so grateful for, I still felt scared around him. Everything he did just made me more curious and nervous about what else he could do.

    To me, Arthur was this mysterious demon whopletely went against his reputation. Everyone said he was ipetent, but that couldn''t be further from the truth.

    Not only could he heal someone as sick as my dad, but he''s an amazing director too. He''s been helping me improve my acting, showing me all these little tricks I never would have figured out on my own.

    Turns out Arthur''s got all these hidden talents - like how he just took down that famous Genesis Whitlock with a single hit. Everyone''s still talking about that.

    As I''ve gotten to spend more time around Director Arthur, I''ve also gotten close to my co-actors, especially Abigail. She''s ying Hermione - who became my favorite character after reading the book.

    Right now, she''s sitting off to the side, watching the crew film another scene.

    We usually hang out during lunch breaks. It''s nice having someone my own age to talk to on set.

    "I can''t wait to start filming my scenes," Abigail says, watching the crew work. "I''ve got every line memorized already."

    "No surprise you got the role - you''re just as smart as Hermione," I tell her. "I''m still struggling with my lines. Would be hopeless if Mr. Arthur wasn''t helping me."

    Abigail gives me a teasing smile. "Well, you''re perfect for Harry then. Not the brightest, but still the hero!"

    I can''t help butugh - she means it in a nice way.

    "I''m such a huge fan of the Harry Potter book, I can barely sleep I''m so excited!" She practically bounces as she speaks.

    "Can''t wait to act with you too," I say.

    "Hey, want to y marbles while we wait?" Abigail pulls out a small bag of colored ss spheres from her pocket.

    I quickly finish my sandwich and join her. Even with all the pressure of being in a big film, sometimes it''s nice to just be a kid.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Filming around Cardiff City has been an interesting experience. I''ve met plenty of locals - most carrying their share of prejudice against demons, but nothing I haven''t dealt with before.

    While working on "Harry Potter," I''ve discovered fascinating aspects of local culture. Many older residents still speak Welsh, their ancestralnguage. Even Christopher, our Dumbledore actor, knows enough to carry a conversation.

    Thenguage has been passed down through generations, though it''s slowly fading. Still, it''s impressive considering how both demon and elven realms have almostpletely abandoned their original tongues in favor of the World''s Language.

    It makes sense, of course. Having a single sharednguage makesmunication easier across realms. That''s why watching these people fight to preserve their mother tongue is oddly inspiring.

    The old-timers have shared other interesting stories too. Decades ago, Wales apparently tried expanding into the Oceania continent. That adventure ended quickly thanks to the local wildlife - massive spiders, pythons that could swallow a horse whole, and crocodiles the size of houses. The coastal waters proved just as deadly, teeming with venomous jellyfish, lethal octopi, and other poisonous creatures that made settlement impossible.

    The locals told me about other dangers too - aggressive sharks in deeper waters and territorial birds that could tear a person apart if provoked.

    Between the resource drain and the hostile wildlife, Wales eventually abandoned their attempts to colonize what they called "The Great Southern Land." Now it''s mainly inhabited by tribal peoples who''ve adapted to its harsh conditions. asionally, students looking to test their magic, martial arts, or knight training venture there for the challenge.

    I''ll admit, I''m intrigued. Anyone who can survive in and that defeated an entire army must be remarkably strong.

    Speaking of strength, these past few days of filming have got me thinking about the perfect arena setup for the Quidditch scenes.

    I''ve been scouting for a suitable arena, but most are booked solid for the "Magic Swords Fight" tournaments.

    I caught one of these matches yesterday - teams of five battling it out with enchanted des, winning points through precise strikes and coordinated tactics. The crowd''s energy was infectious, their chants echoing off the arena walls as fighters shed below. I can see why it''s so popr.

    Funny enough, I''d expected to find more football here. But like many ces in this world, the sport''s declining. The only arena I could actually rent for filming was an old football stadium, practically falling apart. A few teams still y there, but the stands are nearly empty save for some loyal supporters who seem to watch more out of habit than enthusiasm.

    The decline of football seems like such a waste. While I wasn''t a hardcore fan in my previous life - just knew the big names like Pel¨¦ and Maradona - seeing it reduced to near irrelevance bothers me. Surely it deserves better than being overshadowed by glorified sword dancing.

    I didn''t hesitate to invest inprehensive football knowledge from the system shop. The differences between this world''s version and the one I remember became immediately apparent.

    This world''s football is painfully basic - fewer yers, simplified rules, no real strategy.

    The football I remember had yellow and red cards for fouls, offside rules, penalty kicks, and strategic formations that made every match a chess game yed at full sprint. Teams used tactics like the 4-4-2 formation, employed different styles of y from tiki-taka to counter-attacking, and matches could swing on a single brilliant free kick or well-timed substitution.

    While Kingston Construction works on transforming the dpidated stadium into something suitable for our Quidditch scenes, my mind is already racing ahead.

    Beyond just renting the space, I''m considering purchasing an entire football team - maybe even acquiring the struggling Evros Football Association (EFA) itself.

    Imagine controlling football associations across Evros, Anatolia, and even Empirica. I could revitalize the sport by introducing proper incentives - substantial prize money for tournaments, prestigious trophies that mean something, standardized yer sries, and professional coaching programs to develop talent.

    Television coverage would be key - broadcast the matches on Hellfire Channel, build storylines around teams and yers, create real drama that draws viewers in.

    With the right promotion and financial backing, football could be this world''s premier sport.

    While I''m at it, I might as well consider bringing other sports from my previous life here - basketball, baseball, games this world barely acknowledges. Makes sense though, after seeing how simplified their football is. These other sports probably exist here in equally basic forms.

    Basketball and baseball could be revolutionized too. But there''s a delicate bnce to strike with magic in sports. I''d need to strict limitations - nobat spells or dangerous magic, just subtle enhancements to support yer strategy and skill. Keep the focus on athletic ability rather than magical power.

    "Football''s the perfect starting point," I murmur to myself.

    Pushing these ns aside for now, I focus on the Quidditch scenes. Kingston Construction has done impressive work transforming the old arena, though much of it is clever illusion - we don''t have time to build a full Quidditch stadium from scratch.

    The set looks convincing enough for filming. Our wizard team controls the magic threads supporting the actors on their brooms, while invisible ghosts hover nearby as safety measures. They''re handling the cameras too, capturing aerial shots that would be impossible otherwise.

    Daddy seems to be having the time of his afterlife, zooming around with the Quaffle, though I sometimes have to remind him to keep the movements looking natural. His enthusiasm for flying makes him a bit too energetic with the ball sometimes.

 Chapter 162: My skills

    <h4>Chapter 162: My skills</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    <i><strong>~Four Days Later~</strong></i>

    With the Quidditch scenes wrapped and most of Wales'' location shotspleted, production would soon move to Horn Kingdom for studio work at Hellfire VFX. But Arthur wasn''t quite finished in Wales - he had his sights set on the football stadium they''d just used for filming.

    At Dragons Keep Stadium''s office, Arthur faced Lord Evan D''Arcy across an aged oak desk.

    "You want to buy my stadium?" Lord Evan''s eyebrows shot up, his monocle slipping slightly.

    "Yes," Arthur confirmed. "I''ve developed a keen interest in footballtely."

    Evan smoothed his powdered wig, letting out a derisive snort. "A sudden interest in football? Please." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "You''re nning to turn this into another tourist trap once your film releases, aren''t you? Renovate it, dress it up, and profit from the crowdsing to see where your great film was filmed!"

    Arthur blinked, caught off guard. He couldn''t deny using simr tactics before - the Corleone vis and resorts in Horn Kingdom were still drawing Demonfather fans and turning a healthy profit.

    "This is different," Arthur insisted. "I genuinely want to make football popr again."

    "Popr?" Evan barked out augh. "The sport''s been stagnant for centuries. What makes you think you can change that?"

    "I know you love football," Arthur pressed. "Selling to me would be the best thing for the sport''s future."

    Evan fell silent, considering. Finally, his shoulders sagged. "Truth is, this ce bleeds money. Only my love for the game keeps it running." He fixed Arthur with a stern gaze. "If I sell, I want your word this stays a football stadium. No turning it into some carnival attraction."

    "Deal." Arthur extended his hand. "We''ll put it in writing."

    "Deal," Evan sped Arthur''s hand firmly, sealing their agreement with a handshake.

    ***

    Within days of purchasing Dragons Keep Stadium, Arthur acquired a struggling football team from ckwood Industries. Thepany chairman, another football purist, only agreed to sell after Arthur signed irond contracts promising to preserve and develop the team.

    These football enthusiasts'' dedication both amused and impressed Arthur. Their passionate oddity seemed to stem from genuine love for the game.

    To implement his nned reforms, Arthur needed control of Wales'' local tournaments and leagues. His acquisition team was deep in negotiations, though the oues remained uncertain. Each meeting brought new conditions andplications to navigate.

    Now Arthur stood on Dragons Keep''s restored pitch - all traces of the Quidditch filming removed, leaving just the pristine grass, regtion goal posts, and a single football. Before him stood the young yers of Wales Dragon FC.

    Arthur surveyed the assembled yers of Wales Dragon FC. Most were young schrs, their education funded by their participation on the team. ying football wasn''t just recreation for them - it was their lifeline to higher education, a path toward opportunities they couldn''t otherwise afford.

    The team''s nervousness was palpable as they faced their new boss. They''d all seen the television footage of Arthur dispatching Genesis Whitlock with a single strike. That disy had shattered any notion of him being the weak, magic-less demon from the rumors.

    Arthur drew himself up like a battle-hardened general addressing his troops. "As you''re aware, I now own this team. Your schrships and support will continue under my leadership." His eyes met each yer''s gaze in turn. "You all have talent and understand the basics, but what I''m about to teach you will transform how you y this game."

    The yers exchanged skeptical nces at Arthur''s bold im. Transform how they y football? Their new boss, a demon who''d never shown any connection to the sport, thought he could revolutionize their game?

    ''What could this demon possibly know about football?'' Rhys scoffed internally. As the team''s star yer, he took particr offense at the suggestion.

    "You know football, boss?" Dafydd voiced the doubt they all shared.

    Arthur''s smile widened at their skepticism. He ced his foot atop the ball with casual confidence. "I find demonstrations more convincing than exnations." In one fluid motion, he flicked the ball up, juggling it from knee to shoulder before letting it roll smoothly back to his foot.

    The yers remained unimpressed by this basic disy, but Arthur was just warming up.

    Heunched into a series of moves that left them stunned - the ball seemed to dance between his feet as he executed perfect step-overs, followed by a rainbow flick that arced over his head. He caught it with his chest, killed its momentum instantly, then rolled it across his shoulders before catching it with his heel.

    The yers stood transfixed, having never seen such controlled maniption of the ball.

    "Well?" Arthur asked, noting their shocked expressions.

    Rhys broke the spell, stepping forward. "Fancy tricks don''t win matches," he dered, his voice carrying a challenging edge.

    Arthur raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the young man''s boldness in confronting his new boss.

    "If you think you know so much about football," Rhys continued, squaring his shoulders, "let''s settle this one-on-one."

    The other yers held their breath at this audacious challenge, but Arthur''s smile only grew wider.

    Arthur assessed Rhys with a knowing smile. ''Perfect - once I beat the team''s star, the rest will fall in line.''

    "Let''s do this," he agreed readily.

    At exactly three in the afternoon, under the warm sun, they took their positions. Rhys started with the ball, attempting to slip past Arthur with a subtle enhancement spell. To his shock, Arthur stripped the ball from him with effortless precision.

    "Incredible..." Aidan breathed from his position as Arthur''s temporary keeper.

    At the opposite end, Owen took his stance, muscles tensed and ready. As the team''s premier goalkeeper, he''d built his confidence on never being caught off guard. Sure, Arthur showed fancy footwork, but scoring required a different skill set entirely.

    Owen activated his enhancement magic, a shimmer of power coating his hands.

    Arthur approached the ball with calcted precision, setting up for what appeared to be a straightforward shot.

    Instead, he executed a perfect Knuckleball kick - a technique from his previous life. The ballunched forward with minimal spin, its trajectory appearing deceptively simple.

    Owen watched the approaching shot with growing confidence. ''No magic enhancement, barely any power behind it. The ball''sing straight at me.'' His hands tensed, ready for an easy catch.

    But as the ball neared, it suddenly began its erratic dance through the air, shifting unpredictably in its flight path. Owen''s eyes widened as the ball swerved sharply away from his outstretched fingers.

    The impact of leather against echoed through the silent stadium!

    Owen stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Without magic or enhanced power, Arthur had somehow made the ball move in a way he''d never seen before.

    Rhys and Aidan stood dumbfounded, their eyes wide with disbelief.

    "What just happened?" Rhys muttered, his confidence shaken. Suspicion crept into his thoughts - was Owen throwing the match to please their new boss? Or had fear of Arthur''s reputation affected his performance?

    Rhys stormed over to Owen. "Come on, man! Are you even trying? Don''t tell me you''re letting him win!"

    "You don''t understand," Owen replied, still staring at where the ball had curved past him. "I swear it wasing straight at me!"

    Rhys''s usation died in his throat as Owen described the ball''s impossible movement.

    "It''s called a knuckleball," Arthur exined, joining them. "The shot''s path is deliberately unpredictable - even I can''t be certain where it''ll end up."

    "Never heard of such a technique," Rhys said, skepticism clear in his voice.

    Arthur chuckled inwardly. ''Of course you haven''t. This techniquees from a world you''ve never known.''

    "Let''s continue," Arthur suggested, returning to position.

    The rest of the match proved even more one-sided. Arthur dominatedpletely, scoring three more times to finish 4-0. With each goal, the watching team''s expressions shifted from doubt to amazement.

    Rhys, their star yer, hadn''t stood a chance. Arthur had outmaneuvered him at every turn, demonstrating a mastery of the game none of them had witnessed before.

    "Convinced now?" Arthur asked the assembled yers, noting how differently they looked at him - respect recing their earlier skepticism.

    The team nodded eagerly, ready to learn whatever this unexpected football master could teach them.

    After several hours of training, the team departed with their heads swimming with new knowledge. Arthur knew it would take time before they fully grasped theplete version of football he envisioned, but they''d made a promising start.

    Walking alone after practice, Arthur caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision. Genesis Whitlock stood at a distance, ducking behind a wall the moment Arthur turned his way.

    Arthur sighed heavily. ''First those Skull Organization operatives trailing me for days, now this kid''s ying amateur spy.''

    Unknown to Arthur, Genesis''s heart was racing behind his hiding spot. His parents had given him clear instructions to convince Arthur to be his martial arts instructor, but after theirst encounter, he couldn''t muster the courage to make a direct approach.

 Chapter 163: Sport Shoes

    <h4>Chapter 163: Sport Shoes</h4>

    (Genesis POV)

    I tailed Arthur through the streets, trying to stay undetected. When he suddenly stopped walking, my breath caught.

    "I''ve been aware of you following me for quite some time now," Arthur announced, his voice carrying easily to my hiding spot. "Your attempt at stealth needs work."

    <i>Of course he spotted me! What else should I expect from someone who took me down with a single strike?</i>

    Caught out, I had no choice but to reveal myself.

    Arthur turned to face me as I emerged, my heart hammering against my ribs. "So you knew all along? As expected of someone skilled enough to knock me unconscious with one blow."

    "You''re about as stealthy as a drunk dragon," Arthur replied tly. "Espionage clearly isn''t your forte."

    Heat rushed to my face. "Haha..." What else could I say to that?

    "Why are you following me?" His tone made it clear he had better things to do than chat.

    "I wanted to..." I steeled myself. "Would you consider bing my martial arts instructor? I want to learn from you."

    Surprise flickered across his features. "You want me to teach you?"

    I nodded eagerly. "You must be incredibly skilled! My family will pay generously for your time!"

    Arthur crossed his arms. "No."

    "But we''re prepared to offer thousands of dors for just a few hours!" I protested.

    "The answer''s still no." He shook his head dismissively. "I''m not a martial arts instructor, and thousands mean nothing when you earn millions." His snort carried years of wealth behind it.

    He turned and walked away. I chased after him, offering everything from my family''s secret martial arts techniques to rare magic spells. Arthur didn''t even slow down. Nothing I said seemed to matter to him at all.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    <i>The Whitlock family really doesn''t understand. A few thousand dors? Secret techniques? None of that is worth my time when I have entire industries to revolutionize.</i>

    My focus remained on expanding business ventures in Wales. The Evros Football Association acquisition was still in negotiation, and I had my sights set on the Welsh Premier Football Association''s tournament organization.

    Back in my hotel room, I spent hours strategizing ys for my team''s uing tournament matches. The yers showed promise, but they needed intensive training.

    The next day at the stadium, something caught my attention during practice. My yers moved awkwardly, their movements restricted. The answer literallyy at their feet - their footwear waspletely wrong for the sport.

    After training, they all nursed sore feet. Their boots were heavy, the leather stiff and unyielding. I''d barely noticed simr issues with my own shoes thanks to my enhanced physical control, but for regr yers, this was a serious problem.

    "How do your shoes feel when you y?" I asked the team.

    Rhys didn''t hesitate. "They''re loose and slippery during sprints."

    "Can''t bend my ankle properly in these," another yer added, demonstrating the stiff leather.

    Moreints followed, each highlighting different problems with their current footwear.

    <i>This isn''t just a problem - it''s an opportunity.</i>

    The solution crystallized in my mind: specialized shoes designed specifically for football. I essed the system shop, purchasingprehensive footwear designs from my previous life.

    Later that evening, I sat at my hotel desk, sketching out modifications. The shoes would need cleats for grip, flexible leather for movement, proper ankle support... This could change how the game was yed entirely.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Within days, Arthur acquired Morty''s Cobbler Shop, a struggling local establishment. Its owner, Morty, was a master craftsman whose traditional skills hadn''t tranted into business sess. Arthur saw potential in both the shop and its owner, keeping Morty on as manager while redirecting his expertise toward a new vision.

    Together, they produced eight pairs of prototype football boots in just two days - enough to outfit Arthur''s starting lineup.

    When Arthur presented the boots to his yers, their initial skepticism was clear. The unusual design drew confused looks until they actually tried them on.

    The difference was immediate. yers found themselves moving with new agility, their movements more precise and controlled than ever before. The boots seemed to enhance every aspect of their game.

    "These are incredible!" Aidan eximed, executing a perfect sprint and turn that would have sent him sliding in his old boots. "Boss Arthur, these are amazing!"

    Rhodori tested his pair with quick footwork. "They look strange, but the performance... I''ve never worn anything like them."

    "Where did you even find these?" Finn asked, examining the unique cleats.

    Arthur allowed himself a small smile at their enthusiasm. "Actually, I designed them myself."

    "You designed these?" Rhys''s jaw dropped, the team gathering around in amazement.

    The yers exchanged impressed looks. Their boss seemed to master everything he touched - martial arts, football, filmmaking, and now innovative footwear design. His reputation grew with each passing day.

    "These will give us an edge against Arsenal Wales tomorrow!" Ioan dered confidently.

    "No doubt about it," Cian agreed, still testing his new boots.

    Arthur fell silent, contemting tomorrow''s match. Arsenal Wales FC represented their first real test - a chance to prove whether his innovations could truly transform the game.

    The Welsh Premier League tournament was in full swing,plicating Arthur''s negotiations with the Welsh Premier Football Association. The WPFA''s hesitation to sell during an active tournament was understandable, even if it tested Arthur''s patience.

    "Wonder how my boys will handle Arsenal Wales," Arthur mused, allowing himself a quiet chuckle.

    His team had developed remarkably. By his previous life''s standards, they''d be considered decent yers - but in this world, where football remained primitive, they were practically revolutionary. Wales Dragon FC had fallen far from their glory days of a few years ago, bing one of the league''s weaker clubs. But Arthur knew that was about to change dramatically.

    ***

    During training sessions, Arthur couldn''t ignore Genesis''s persistent presence anymore. The boy''s daily surveince had grown tiresome.

    When Genesis saw Arthur approaching, his eyes lit up with hope - surely now the demon would agree to be his martial arts instructor. Instead, Arthur grabbed his arm and dragged him onto the field.

    "Kid, since you won''t stop following me around, you might as well make yourself useful. Go train with the others!"

    "What?" Genesis stood frozen, his martial arts ambitions suddenly derailed.

    The football yers looked equally baffled at their new training partner. None of them had expected their practice to include the notorious young noble who''d challenged their boss.

    "Go on!" Arthur gave Genesis a firm push toward the waiting yers.

    Genesis stumbled into practice,pletely out of his element. He moved like a lost duckling among the coordinated yers, barely understanding the basic rules, let alone the strategic ys Arthur had been teaching.

    After struggling through the first half, Genesis finally burst out in frustration. "What''s the point of this stupid game? It''s needlessly difficult and makes no sense!"

    The team''s collective re could have melted steel.

    Arthur delivered a quick smack to the back of Genesis''s head. "Don''t call the game stupid. The only stupid one here is you."

    Genesis staggered from the light blow, but his eyes shone with admiration rather than anger. "Please, just teach me martial arts instead! I''m begging you!"

    Arthur studied the persistent youth with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Tell you what - show me you can y decent football, and I might consider it."

    "Really?" Genesis''s face lit up with hope.

    Arthur nodded, internally wondering about the Whitlock family''s true motives. Were they simply seeking connections with him, or was there something more?

    "I''ll give it everything I''ve got!" Genesis dered, suddenly energized.

    Arthur suppressed a smile. His real n was simple - get the boy so absorbed in football that he''d forget about martial arts entirely. Who knew? Genesis might even discover a genuine passion for the sport along the way.

 Chapter 164: Changes in the sport

    <h4>Chapter 164: Changes in the sport</h4>

    (Genesis POV)

    <i>I''m stuck ying this ridiculous football game, but if it gets Arthur to train me in martial arts, I''ll endure it.</i>

    The practice wasn''t particrly strenuous - notpared to my training at the Royal Academy under Sir Horton. But Arthur clearly surpassed even Sir Horton''sbat skills, which exined my parents'' insistence on securing him as my instructor.

    I gave the game my all, knowing Arthur wouldn''t even consider training me otherwise. But these yers made me look like aplete novice!

    It made no sense. I clearly had superior physical training and martial arts experience, yet they outmaneuvered me at every turn. The whole thing was infuriating and humiliating.

    Every time I thought I had the ball under control, someone would slip past my defense with some clever footwork and score.

    "Are you even trying? You''re ying like a liability out there," Finn called out, shaking his head.

    "Just wait!" I shot back. "Once I figure this game out, I''ll show all of you who''s superior!"

    But my boasting couldn''t mask how far behind I was. I found myself actually having to focus on the basics - proper dribbling, ball control, urate passing.

    The next day, I swallowed my pride and visited Morty''s Cobbler Shop to buy the same boots the other yers wore. The difference in performance was immediate, but I still couldn''t match their skill level.

    As I spent my time ying football with the others, understanding gradually dawned. The more I grasped the game''s nuances, the more unexpectedly fascinated I became. And in just a few hours, these yers I''d been training with would face another football club in actualpetition.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Wales Dragon FC faced Arsenal Wales FC on a quiet afternoon, with only a handful of spectators scattered throughout the massive stadium.

    Arthur watched from the stands alongside Genesis and his coaching staff as the teams took their positions. Arsenal Wales''s yers carried themselves with the swagger of favorites.

    "Best of luck," Arsenal''s captain sneered at Rhys, his tone dripping with mockery.

    "Same to you," Rhys replied with genuine calm, surprising his opponent.

    The Arsenal captain''s confidence wavered slightly at Rhys''s unexpectedposure, but he brushed it off with a dismissive snort as the whistle blew.

    What unfolded next left the sparse crowd stunned. Wales Dragon yers barely used any magic, yet they moved with precision and purpose, scoring through what appeared to be simple but devastatingly effective shots.

    "What''s wrong with Arsenal''s keeper?" an elderly spectator muttered, his decades of football experience showing in his furrowed brow. "Those shots should be easy saves."

    "The striker didn''t even use magic enhancement," hispanion noted with growing confusion.

    Arsenal''s supporters initially dismissed Wales Dragon''s sess as luck. Their team was known for superior skill and magical prowess, after all.

    But as the match progressed, Wales Dragon''s dominance became undeniable. They controlled the game with minimal magic use, relying instead on techniques the audience had never seen before.

    "This is impossible! What in zes are they doing out there?" Arsenal''s head coach exploded during a timeout, gathering his bewildered team.

    The coach bellowed at the team, unleashing a fierce scolding. After a brief break, they returned to the match, but the Arsenal Wales yers were still no match for the formidable Wales Dragon team.

    The Arsenal supporters watched in growing confusion as the match unfolded.

    "Something feels off," a middle-aged fan muttered, shaking his head. "Wales Dragon barely uses any magic but they''re dominating, while Arsenal''s throwing everything they''ve got at them and still losing."

    "It''s not what you think," an elderly gentleman interrupted, his weathered face marking him as a longtime football observer. "Wales Dragon''s technique is far more sophisticated than it appears."

    "What do you mean?"

    The old expert leaned forward, gesturing toward the field. "Watch closely. They''re employing specialized dribbling patterns, shooting techniques I''ve never seen before. They don''t need magic because their fundamental skill gives them the advantage."

    Those within earshot turned to him with newfound interest. The middle-aged fan whistled softly. "If they''re using such advanced non-magical techniques, their coach must be some kind of football genius."

    Murmurs of agreement spread through the nearby spectators.

    In his seat, Genesis watched the game with growing fascination. The crowd''s impressed reactions only confirmed what he was beginning to understand - football wasn''t the simple game he''d dismissed it as.

    Arthur observed his team''s dominance with mixed feelings. While their performance validated his training, he recognized a potential problem: one-sided matches wouldn''t make forpelling television. Moreover, the current rules and y style were too primitive for his vision. It reinforced his determination to acquire the Welsh Premier Football Association and revolutionize the sport entirely.

    From his privileged position in the stands, Welsh Premier Football Association Chairman Alun Griffiths watched the match with growing amazement. His eyes kept shifting between the field and Arthur, remembering their conversation days earlier.

    "I''ll change football," Arthur had told him with quiet confidence. "Starting with Wales Dragon FC, the club I just acquired."

    At the time, Alun had dismissed it as typical business bravado. Now, watching Wales Dragon''s revolutionary performance, those words carried new weight.

    After the match, Arthur found him. "Have you reconsidered my offer?"

    Alun released a heavy sigh. "After today''s disy, I can see you might actually transform the game." He hesitated. "But making it truly popr..."

    "I''ll make it bigger than you can imagine," Arthur''s smile carried absolute certainty. "More popr than you''d dare to dream."

    Silence stretched between them before Alun finally nodded. "Let''s discuss terms." For the love of football, he''d trust Arthur''s vision.

    The decision wasn''t purely romantic. The old Evros saying rang true: "There''s no money in football and chess. Those who love these games love losing money on them." Alun had proved it by pouring his fortune into the association.

    His wife had been pushing him to ept Arthur''s offer for days. He''d resisted, but today''s match - seeing Arthur''s innovations in action - had finally convinced him. Perhaps this demon could save the sport he loved while stopping the financial bleeding that threatened his family''s future.

    ***

    Arthur''s acquisition of the Welsh Premier Football Association sent shockwaves through the footballmunity. When Alun Griffiths willingly sold the organization, insiders were stunned.

    Media coverage exploded across all channels. Television crews cornered football enthusiasts for their reactions.

    "That demon should stick to what he knows!" one passionate fan raged on camera. "He''s already conquered filmmaking and television. Now he wants to destroy our football?"

    Newspapers ran sensational headlines:

    <i>"Arthur Pendragon Sets Sights on Football: Sources Report Demon Director Investing Hundreds of Thousands in Struggling Sport"</i>

    <i>"Financial Folly or Hidden Agenda? Experts Question Arthur''s Massive Investment in Profitless Sport"</i>

    The financial papers were particrly scathing:

    <i>"Arthur''s Latest Venture Raises Eyebrows: Analysts Label Football Investment ''Commercially Unsound''"</i>

    While the media''s interest stemmed more from Arthur''s celebrity than any real concern for football, his subsequent actions sparked genuine outrage in the sportingmunity. His announcement as chairman that he would halt the Welsh Premier League to implement new rules and ying styles drew fierce criticism from football purists and enthusiasts alike.

    The football world saw it as an outsider attempting to fundamentally alter their beloved sport. What they didn''t realize was that Arthur''s vision extended far beyond their traditional understanding of the game.

    The Wales Daily''s headline screamed: <i>"Arthur''s Destroying Football! - Expert Condemns Changes"</i>

    Yet the media frenzy had an unexpected effect - people who''d never paid attention to football suddenly found themselves curious about the sport and Arthur''s mysterious ns for it.

    His announcement that Hellfire Channel would broadcast the next Welsh Premier League sparked fresh controversy. No one had considered football worthy of television coverage before.

    As Arthur prepared to leave Wales, reporters swarmed him, firing questions about his football ns. He answered them with his usual calm directness before departing, leaving the media to specte further.

    The revamped Welsh Premier League wouldn''t begin for several months, giving him time to refocus on Harry Potter''s production. While the football world buzzed with theories about his intentions, Arthur knew the real revolution was just beginning.

 Chapter 165: Filming Resumes in Horn Kingdom

    <h4>Chapter 165: Filming Resumes in Horn Kingdom</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The moment I stepped off the airship onto Horn Airport''s tarmac, I took a deep breath. Two weeks away had made me appreciate the demon realm''s familiar air.

    My contentment contrasted sharply with the Harry Potter cast members'' obvious difort. Their unease was understandable - for most, this was their first time setting foot in demon territory.

    "Demons don''t bite," I joked, but Abigail and the other child actors only looked more frightened.

    My smile faded into something more reassuring. "You''repletely safe here. Demons are just like anyone else." The older actors joined in calming the children, which I appreciated.

    I couldn''t help wondering what stories circted in Wales and other human nations to make these kids so terrified. Probably simr to the demon tales from my previous life, except here demons actually existed. The irony was that demons were just another race, neither wholly good nor evil. Those human realm stories were nothing but racist propaganda.

    A line of cars waited for us, the head driver waving as he spotted me. I nodded in acknowledgment before sliding into the lead vehicle, the cast following suit in the cars behind.

    As we drove toward the studio, I found myself missing Firfel. It had been too long since I''d seen her.

    Beside me, Sylwen stared vigntly through the window, still on edge. I understood her caution - those Skull Organization operatives had shadowed us for weeks in Wales.

    Though they''d eventually given up the pursuit, neither of us was ready to lower our guard. In our line of work, paranoia often proved prudent.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The convoy reached Hellfire Studio after a brief drive through the city. Arthur led his Harry Potter cast through the entrance, where staff immediately called out warm greetings.

    "Wee back, boss!"

    Arthur acknowledged them with a nod before gesturing to the nervous cast behind him. "Get our guests settled in the city. Make sure they''re well taken care of."

    The staff''s eyes swept over the neers. "We''ll handle it, boss."

    The child actors visibly tensed when a massive behemoth demon stepped forward, his attempts at a friendly smile only making him appear more intimidating.

    "I''ll be looking after you all," the demon said gently, though his tusked grin had the children shrinking back. Even the adult actors, new to the demon realm, looked uncertain.

    Their anxiety proved unnecessary - the demon led them to private suites within the Hellfire building, each room spacious and luxuriously appointed. These would be their homes during Harry Potter''s filming schedule.

    Meanwhile, Arthur settled into his office, reviewing progress reports on theputer division and operating system development. Hellfire Electronics stood on the brink of approval, preparing tounch their ambitious product line - personalputers, gaming consoles with controllers.

    Theputer development proceeded smoothly, but the gaming console presented moreplex challenges. Even with Arthur''s knowledge from reverse-engineering the Dragon Ball world''s console design, progress remained slower than hoped.

    While the 8-bit console development looked promising, the 16-bit system posed greater technical hurdles. The 32 and 64-bit consoles remained distant goals, theirplexity requiring significantly more research and development time.

    After reading through the electronics division''s progress reports, Arthur received a VHS tape from a staff member, containing thetest Dragon Ball episodes withpleted voice work.

    He immediately headed to the screening room to review it. Though the sound effects were still missing, the voice acting showed promise, bringing the characters to life in ways that exceeded his expectations.

    Arthur settled in to watch thepleted Dragon Ball episodes, satisfied that the anime was nearly ready for broadcast.

    A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Using his Ki sense to identify the visitors, he opened the door with a casual wave of magic.

    Firfel and Vivienne burst in, their faces lighting up at the sight of him.

    "Finally back!" Vivienne eximed. "I''ve been dying for your tea!"

    Beside her, Firfel''s eyes sparkled with warmth. "Wee back."

    Arthur shook his head with mock exasperation. "Aren''t you two supposed to be filming your telenov?"

    "What, we can''t take a break?" Vivienne retorted yfully.

    Smiling, Arthur prepared their tea before discussing the anime''s progress.

    "I''ve been keeping an eye on the animation studio while you were away," Vivienne reported. "Your mass hiring strategy paid off - production speed has increased significantly."

    Arthur nodded thoughtfully. He''d need to inspect the studio himself soon.

    After the girls left, he finally made his way to his penthouse. The moment he saw his bed, exhaustion caught up with him. He copsed onto the familiar mattress, letting weeks of tension melt away.

    ***

    The Cursed Chicken''s morning screech jolted Arthur awake. To others, the sound was unbearable, but to him, it felt like home.

    Going through his morning routine - brushing teeth, showering, dressing - Arthur paused at the mirror with a self-satisfied smirk. "You are such a handsome demon, Arthur."

    Meanwhile, in the private suites, the Welsh actors experienced their first demon realm wake-up call. Abigail clutched her pillow in terror until her mother exined the source.

    "That''s a chicken?" Abigail''s voice cracked with disbelief. "It sounds absolutely horrendous!"

    Her mother couldn''t help butugh at her daughter''s shock.

    The other child actors reacted simrly. Rowan Bramble (Ron Weasley) and Fayra Emberhill (Ginny Weasley) huddled together, wide-eyed. Their first morning in the demon realm was proving quite the culture shock.

    Venturing outsideter, they goggled at the strange sights - exotic nts with peculiar patterns, cats with extra tails, dogs with glowing eyes. At the studio, they met their demon and elven co-stars for the first time.

    Lucian Raven, cast as Draco Malfoy, immediately caught their attention. His mischievous grin and demon features had the human children keeping their distance at first. But as the day progressed, they discovered his kindness belied his intimidating appearance.

    The day''s filming began on demon realm streets, where the Welsh actors mingled with their demon and elven co-stars. The children''s faces lit up when they spotted a familiar figure.

    "Imkrag!" Their excitement was palpable - they''d admired his portrayal of Gollum in Lord of the Rings, never imagining they''d work alongside him. Now here he stood in an elegant suit and top hat, his sess evident in his refined appearance.

    "I''ll be ying Dobby," Imkrag announced to his starstruck co-stars, clearly enjoying his continued rise in the industry.

    After the street scenes wrapped, Arthur led everyone to the VFX Studio. The cast gasped collectively as they entered - where empty space had been moments before, Hogwarts now towered magnificently.

    The real surprise came when filming resumed. The Welsh actors hadn''t expected the ghosts to do more than operate cameras - yet here they were, taking speaking roles.

    Abigail, having devoured the Harry Potter book, took it in stride. "There are supposed to be ghosts at Hogwarts," she exined to her amazed castmates.

    The veteran actors exchanged worried nces. Using actual ghosts as actors? They couldn''t help wondering how audiences would react to such an unconventional casting choice.

    Filming continued amid the magical setting. The actors marveled at Hogwarts'' moving staircases and intricate architecture, their performances enhanced by the VFX Studio''s incredible illusions.

    Several cast members finally understood why the VFX Studios had earned such a formidable reputation in the industry.

    As production progressed, Arthur simultaneously expanded his football venture. The Horn Football Association fell under his control, giving him authority over all league tournaments in the demon realm.

    His vision was taking shape - with only the Evros Football Association and Anatolia Football Association remaining as acquisition targets. Once secured, he would haveplete control over the sport''s development across multiple kingdoms.

    The prospect energized him. Soon he could implement his nned reforms: new rules, modern ying styles, and innovations that would transform football into something this world had never seen. The path to making the sport truly popry clear before him.

 Chapter 166: First Live Broadcast!

    <h4>Chapter 166: First Live Broadcast!</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Following his acquisition of the Horn Football Association, Arthurunched sweeping changes. He bought several clubs and initiated talks with owners and coaches across the kingdom.

    His "Football Reforms" program caught the footballmunity off guard. As HFA chairman, he began systematically retraining yers in modern techniques and implementing new rules. Referees underwent intensive education on the updated regtions that would govern the uing Horn Premiere.

    These radical changes captured attention throughout the kingdom. Football enthusiasts watched with a mixture of curiosity and concern as their sport transformed before their eyes.

    Media coverage turned critical. Headlines questioned Arthur''s choices, with fans expressing disappointment over his focus on a new fantasy film instead of a Lord of the Rings sequel, while "wasting" resources on an unprofitable sport.

    Arthur ignored the bad press, focusing instead on his film production. During his free time, he worked on developing football''s future poprity, while also eyeing other interesting sports.

    Basketball in Empirica existed as merely a simple ball-shooting game - Arthur knew he could vastly improve it.

    If he made enough significant changes to this world''s sports, perhaps he could develop an influential event like the Olympics where all nations would participate.

    The idea of developing this world''s sports wasn''t solely about umting system entertainment points. Arthur believed these entertaining sports could somehow foster peace.

    After all, this world faced tensions simr to his previous life - powerful mages and knights in various nations stood ready to wage war against their neighbors.

    Perhaps sports could serve as a perfect distraction.

    Indeed, the films from Hellfire and other major studios, along with TV developments and Hellfire Got Talent''s growing poprity, had already helped ease tensions across the world.

    If Arthur could establish an Olympics where every nation participated,peting for gold medals and prize rewards, perhaps these nations would redirect their focus from warfare to sports development.

    Meanwhile, Firfel and Vivienne couldn''t quite understand Arthur''s sudden interest in football.

    After watching a few matches of people simply kicking balls around, they lost interest and turned their attention back to the "Harry Potter" production.

    The VFX Studio''s recreation of Hogwarts captivated them. Moving paintings, shifting staircases - the technical achievements were remarkable. The advanced VFX technology had outdone itself.

    Watching the rough cuts of various scenes, they sensed this film''s potential to match Lord of the Rings in scope and impact. They eagerly anticipated the final product.

    As weeks passed, filming wrapped on "Harry Potter." The editing process moved swiftly thanks to their newlypletedputers with editing programs. The VHS reader technology integrated into theputers allowed direct tape ess, streamlining post-production significantly.

    ***

    (Genesis POV)

    For weeks now, I''ve trained with Wales Dragon FC. The sessions never grow dull, despite my initial ulterior motive of convincing Arthur to be my martial arts instructor.

    Something unexpected happened - I fell in love with football.

    Though I''ve improved considerably, I still can''t match Rhys''s natural talent. Yet I find myself caring less about that gap and more about the game itself.

    My newfound passion has consequences. I''ve neglected both my Whitlock Network dueling program and my studies at the Royal Academy. My parents confronted me, demanding I quit football - they''d abandoned any interest in Arthur training me.

    They just wanted me focused on my studies, but I refused without hesitation. My defiance enraged them.

    "Your studies are more important. Abandon that stupid game and focus on what matters!" Father''s face reddened with anger.

    Mother stood beside him, her re equally intense.

    "Football isn''t stupid, Father," I countered, standing my ground. "I''ve grown to love this game. While I understand studies are important, football means just as much to me now."

    Father''s fist crashed down, splitting his desk in half. "You don''t understand what you''re saying!"

    But my mind was made up. I turned and left his study, my resolve unwavering.

    "Don''te back until you abandon that game!" His words echoed through the halls as I walked away.

    I sighed heavily, conflicting emotions churning inside me.

    I understood my family''s opposition to football. Most viewed it as a profitless endeavor, a relic of past glory with no future. The game garnered little respect in today''s society.

    But I believed differently now.

    Through conversations with Rhys, Aidan, and other yers, I''d learned of Arthur''s vision to revolutionize the sport. The team believed in his ns wholeheartedly, and I shared their faith. Arthur would restore football to its rightful ce.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    In Horn Kingdom, Arthur had spent weeks training his newly acquired football clubs. Among them, "Darkme FC" showed exceptional promise, absorbing his new techniques faster than the others.

    Recognizing their potential, Arthur made them his gship team, rebranding them as "Hellfire FC."

    While Arthur''s clubs embraced his innovations, other football clubs throughout Horn Kingdom continued training under traditional methods. Many club owners dismissed Arthur''s reforms, stubbornly clinging to original rules and ying styles.

    They remained blind to theing revolution. And when it arrived, they would find themselves woefully unprepared.

    A weekter, on April 20, 1272, Arthurunched a nationwide TV program called "Horn Football Premiere League." His announcement echoed across the kingdom: "I''m proud to announce that April 27 will mark the debut of new football. Witness the first match between Hellfire FC and Horns FC, featuring revolutionary y styles, rules, and special events! Don''t miss the pre-game performances by Nirvana''s James and Queen''s Frederick!"

    The announcement sparked diverse reactions among viewers. Many expressed disappointment, having expected news about Hellfire Got Talent''s second season instead. "What''s this football league supposed to be?" they wondered dismissively.

    ***

    On April 27, 1273, media predictions provedpletely wrong - the Horn Football Premiere League''s opening match sold out. Thirty thousand people had purchased tickets at four dors each!

    The media grudgingly acknowledged the turnout, though they credited the attendance not to football but to Arthur''s clever inclusion of popr bands.

    James ze of Nirvana, known across nations as "The Grunge Star," "The True Demon," and "Devil Spokesperson,"manded a massive following. His band''s music had spread like wildfire through Empirica.

    Alongside him, Frederick''s band Queen was rapidly ascending to simr heights. His unique style and extraordinary songs drew frequentparisons to Nirvana, sparking heated debates between rival fan clubs.

    Throughout the stadium, excited chatter focused entirely on the uing performances:

    "When is Nirvana taking the stage?"

    "I hope they y my favorite song!"

    "These four-dor tickets are a steal - Queen''s concerts usually cost seven dors!"

    "Right? Getting this close to Nirvana normally costs nine dors!"

    Their animated conversations made one thing clear - the actual football match was thest thing on their minds.

    The moment arrived for Nirvana to take the stage.

    Floating cameras swept across the stadium, capturing every angle. While the audience assumed wizards controlled them through magic, the truth remained hidden - invisible ghosts carried these cameras, a secret Arthur kept carefully guarded.

    "You guys came so early today!" James called out through the microphone. The crowd''s response was deafening, their cheers making the stadium vibrate with energy.

    Thankfully, Arthur''s recent renovations had reinforced the structure to handle such enthusiasm.

    James performed while floating cameras circled the stadium, capturing both band and audience. Local reporters watched impressed, but the real shock came to those watching at home and in TVwork offices - the football league was broadcasting live!

    Arthur had achieved what seemed impossible: live transmission across multiple kingdoms and nations.

    Viewers stared in amazement at their screens, the Hellfire Channel logo prominently disying "LIVE" with a red dot.

    Rivalworks scrambled to understand how Arthur managed such powerful signal distribution. They remained unaware of his secret weapon - the "Ancient Tree" that made such broadcasts possible.

    Back at the stadium, James finished his set with an announcement: "Stay in your seats for the match, everyone! We''ll perform again at halftime, along with Queen. Plus, we''ve got a special ending performance after the game!"

    The Nirvana fans who''d been ready to leave quickly settled back into their seats, cheering at the promise of more music.

 Chapter 167: First Match

    <h4>Chapter 167: First Match</h4>

    (Karnox Braze POV)

    <i>The stadium is packed... I can''t believe this many people came...</i>

    Looking up at the crowded stands, I could barely process the sight. Even knowing they were here for the bands rather than football, my heart raced at performing before such a crowd.

    "Amazing, isn''t it?" Threx patted my shoulder.

    I nodded. "Incredible. Though I''m feeling a bit nervous."

    My anxiety wasn''t baseless. Arthur''s new football techniques still weren''t second nature to me.

    "You''ll be fine," Threx assured me. "You''re our star yer. You''ve got this."

    His confidence brought a smile to my face. "Thanks."

    The stadium speakers suddenly boomed to life.

    "Ladies and gentlemen! I''m Selina Taylor, yourmentator for today''s match!" A stunning human woman appeared in thementator''s box.

    The crowd roared their approval.

    "Look! It''s Selina Taylor!" Vorrick eximed. "She just did that yboy spread!"

    "Saw her new film too - quite spicy..." another teammate added.

    "Total crush material," Mazrek sighed.

    I chuckled at their fanboying.

    Selina continued, "Joining me is the one and only Vito Corleone - the Demonfather himself! Old Rocky!"

    Rocky emerged in his signature Demonfather suit. "Not that old," he grumbled into the microphone. "Anyway, I yed football in my youth, so I should manage thementary well enough."

    Fresh cheers erupted from the stands.

    Selina beamed at him. "Hope you can guide me through this - I only know the basics."

    "I''ll do what I can," Rocky replied tly.

    The crowdughed at his deadpan delivery.

    "That''s... that''s actually the Demonfather!" I stammered.

    "Can''t believe he''smentating our match!" Threx shook his head in wonder.

    "We have to give it our all!" I dered firmly. "With this crowd, and the Demonfather himself watching, we can''t afford to hold back!"

    "Absolutely right," Draykus, our defensive midfielder, agreed.

    Rocky''s voice boomed through the stadium, "Now that we''ve introduced yourmentators, let''s meet the stars of today''s game!"

    "Starting with Horn FC''s lineup!" Selina announced enthusiastically.

    The crowd cheered as Rocky and Selina introduced each yer to the field.

    Then came our team''s introduction, starting with Threx and working through the roster.

    Finally, Rocky''s voice rang out: "And Hellfire FC''s star yer, number 10, Karnox Braze!"

    The Demonfather himself announcing my name sent pride coursing through me.

    The crowd''s polite apuse felt perfunctory, but I silently vowed to earn their real enthusiasm before the match ended.

    As we faced Horn FC, thementators announced, "Horn FC will now perform their club anthem!"

    Horn FC''s yers looked as nervous as we felt as they began:

    <i><strong>"From the mountains high to the rivers deep,</strong></i>

    <i><strong>Horns FC, our strength we keep.</strong></i>

    <i><strong>Bold and true, we charge ahead,</strong></i>

    <i><strong>In battle fierce, where legends tread."</strong></i>

    They continued with their chorus:

    <i><strong>"Horns unite, with might and pride!</strong></i>

    <i><strong>Under banners wide, we''ll never hide.</strong></i>

    <i><strong>With thunderous roar, the field we own,</strong></i>

    <i><strong>Horns FC, our strength has grown."</strong></i>

    The stadium fell silent, audience listening intently to the unfamiliar anthem.

    When our turn came, I saw my teammates'' nerves. As captain and star yer, I had to lead by example. I projected my voice strongly:

    <i><strong>"From the depths where shadows creep,</strong></i>

    <i><strong>Hellfire''s roar will never sleep.</strong></i>

    <i><strong>zing strong, our fury bright,</strong></i>

    <i><strong>We storm the pitch with endless might."</strong></i>

    We joined together for the chorus:

    <i><strong>"Hellfire, Hellfire, burning high!</strong></i>

    <i><strong>We''re forged in mes, we reach the sky.</strong></i>

    <i><strong>With iron will and hearts of stone,</strong></i>

    <i><strong>Hellfire stands, never alone."</strong></i>

    Our voices grew stronger for the final verse:

    <i><strong>"Through ashes dark and embers bold,</strong></i>

    <i><strong>Our spirit fierce, our courage cold.</strong></i>

    <i><strong>In red and ck, we im the night,</strong></i>

    <i><strong>Hellfire''s rise, a fearsome sight."</strong></i>

    The audience fell silent as our anthem ended, then erupted in appreciative apuse.

    <i>"Let the first match of Horn Premiere League begin!"</i> Rocky announced.

    The referee ced the ball at center field. Both teams took their positions, tension mounting as we waited for the whistle.

    The sharp st sent the ball to my team, with Draykus immediately passing to me.

    I faced off against Ryan, their star yer who''d also trained under Arthur. As I dribbled forward, I enhanced my speed with magic, breaking past the first defender. But Ryan cut off my advance. I attempted a step-over followed by a quick cut to the left, hoping to slip past him, but he read the move perfectly and stole the ball.

    "Damn it," I muttered, sprinting after him.

    Ryan''s skill showed as he wove through our formation. He passed to a teammate, then immediately broke through our defense. The return pass found him perfectly positioned, and he fired toward the goal.

    Mazrek, our keeper, managed a spectacr save and immediately threw the ball back to me.

    Time to get serious. Those hours practicing Arthur''s techniques had to pay off now.

    I employed the new dribbling patterns, leaving defenders wrong-footed. But with Ryan closing in, I knew I couldn''t be selfish. I passed to Threx.

    The ball moved swiftly - Threx to Vorrick, then to Draykus.

    I sprinted toward the goal, losing Ryan. Draykus found me with a perfect pass. As I prepared to shoot, I activated the shy magic around my foot - not for power, but distraction. The keeper''s eyes followed the sparks, and the ball sailed past him into the!

    Joy surged through me. That spell Arthur taught us - the one I''d thought useless with its purely visual effect - had actually worked perfectly as a goalkeeper''s distraction!

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    What started as skepticism toward an ancient Anatolian game quickly transformed into genuine interest. Both stadium attendees and TV viewers found themselves drawn into the match, despite many knowing little about football.

    Even those unfamiliar with the sport''s rules became captivated by the yers'' shy dribbling techniques and the spectacr magic spells illuminating their footwork.

    "Don''t really understand what''s happening, but it looks amazing," a monkey demon remarked between mouthfuls of popcorn.

    "True," his scaled demon friend agreed. "Makes me want to learn the game myself."

    Human spectators watched with growing interest, while most dwarves remained hesitant, conscious of their shorter legs. Still, some dwarven viewers found themselves intrigued. The hobbits - half-dwarf, half-human hybrids - kept ncing at their own legs, wondering if they could manage such footwork.

    The referee''s whistle cut through the action as he pulled out a yellow card. The Horn FC yer had used illegal hand magic - only enhancement and visual magic were permitted for footwork, with strict limitations on hand usage.

    "For those wondering about the card system," Selina exined, "Chairman Arthur Pendragon introduced this to maintain fair y. Yellow cards warn yers about rule vitions, while red cards result in removal from the game."

    "Never saw anything like this in my ying days," Rocky added. "Arthur''s brought something special here. Makes me wish I could y again."

    "You still could," Selina suggested with a smile.

    Rocky chuckled. "These kids would run circles around me now. I''m too old for more than watching."

    The first half ended almost without notice - the audience had be so absorbed in the game that they''d forgotten about the promised musical performance until Nirvana and Queen took the stage.

    The two legendary bands performing together created an historic moment, one that fans knew they might never witness again.

    When y resumed, the match built to an exciting conclusion. Hellfire FC emerged victorious with a decisive 4-2 victory over Horns FC.

    Nirvana closed the event with a final performance, but as the crowd filed out of the stadium, their conversations focused less on the music and more on when they could catch the next match.

    TV viewers who''d watched from home were already nning how to get stadium tickets for future games, the excitement of experiencing such matches in person proving too tempting to resist.

 Chapter 168: The Rise

    <h4>Chapter 168: The Rise</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Hours after the first Horn Premiere League match, spectators were stunned to learn the game had been broadcast live on TV - a technological feat previously thought impossible.

    This revtion sparked even greater interest in football. When tickets went on sale for the next day''s match between Inferno United and Hell Knights at Hellfire Stadium, they sold out within ten hours.

    Entire districts, where tens of thousands could afford the modest two to four dor tickets, had rushed to secure seats. The next morning, hundreds arrived at the stadium only to find themselves turned away.

    Those without tickets gathered outside, clustering around the small public televisions. The view wasn''t ideal, but they refused to miss the match entirely.

    Inside, the pre-game show featured the celebrated ballet duo from Hellfire Got Talent, rather than Nirvana or Queen. But the real drama unfolded when the match began.

    Inferno United dominated from the start, leaving Hell Knights struggling to keep up. Their coach watched in growing dismay as his team''s traditional ying style proved woefully inadequate against Arthur''s modernized approach.

    Hell Knights collected yellow cards as frustration led to rule vitions. During a timeout, their star yer admitted defeat: "Coach, we can''t match them. Their ball control, their striking technique - they''re on another level."

    "We should have taken Arthur''s new techniques seriously," the assistant coach, a demoness, sighed as she nced at their head coach''s embarrassed expression. Their team''s humiliation yed out before thousands.

    The coach, who also owned the club, never imagined such a devastating oue. His dismissal of Arthur''s vision had led to this public disgrace.

    Throughout the stands, disappointed murmurs spread:

    <i>"Is this all Hell Knights can do? They''re terrible."</i>

    <i>"What a letdown."</i>

    <i>"Inferno United''s got this in the bag."</i>

    By halftime, Inferno United led 4-0. The audience, both in stadium and watching at home, had expected another thrilling match like yesterday''s Hellfire FC versus Horns FC battle. Only Arya Gold''s halftime performance lifted their spirits.

    The final score proved even more brutal: 8-0 to Inferno United. Hell Knights left the field amid a shower of boos and thrown popcorn, their heads bowed in shame.

    Watching from his office television, Arthur shook his head. "That''s the price of underestimating the new techniques."

    ***

    The second match''s aftermath only intensified interest in football. Fans eagerly sought tickets for uing games, despite the day''s disappointment. They learned the next matches would wait until May 4th, when Demon''s Fury would face Fiery Titans, followed by Shadow Wolves versus Dark Legion on May 5th.

    These matches would move to arger venue - a renowned sword fighting arena Arthur had rented. Unlike Hellfire Stadium, this venue could amodate 50,000 spectators.

    While awaiting the next matches, people across the kingdom discussed the sport with growing enthusiasm.

    "I started learning to y - thought it''d be simple, but these new styles and rules make it incredibly challenging," a demon said, struggling with a vendor-bought ball.

    "Never imagined just kicking a ball could be so difficult. Controlling it takes real skill," his friend added.

    Another sighed, "Tried copying Karnox''s dribbling from Hellfire FC. Way harder than it looks."

    As days passed, people studied the football broadcasts they''d seen on Hellfire Channel, gradually familiarizing themselves with the sport''s intricacies.

    When May 4th arrived, both the Demon''s Fury and Fiery Titans chairmen attended the match personally. They surveyed the packed stadium with a mixture of hope and anxiety, each silently willing their team to victory.

    After the sword fighting arena''s regr cheerleaders performed their routine, the match began in earnest.

    Both teams showed signs of adapting to the new style - unsurprising since their owners had scrambled to learn Arthur''s techniques after witnessing Hell Knights'' humiliation six days earlier.

    As both teams were still mastering these new methods, neither dominated the match. Though they yed like novices, their evenly matched struggle captivated the audience.

    The game remained unpredictable throughout - seemingly certain goals thwarted byst-second saves, keeping spectators on the edge of their seats.

    The crowd split their support, half cheering for Demon''s Fury, half backing Fiery Titans. Theirpeting chants filled the stadium.

    Demon''s Fury ultimately imed a narrow victory, 3-2. As they celebrated amidst audience cheers, Fiery Titans showed true sportsmanship, congratting their opponents while vowing to improve for their next meeting.

    ***

    The following day''s match saw Dark Legion triumph 4-3, leaving newly converted football fans eagerly awaiting the next round of games in six days.

    Football''s poprity surged, and while it hadn''t yet reached the level of magic duels or magical swordsmanship, it had built a dedicated following thanks to the live TV broadcasts and Arthur''s revolutionary rules and ying style.

    The sport''s growing appeal triggered unexpectedmercial sess.

    At Hellscape Center, football merchandise flew off shelves.

    Fans rushed to buy replica jerseys of their favorite yers so far, along with the specialized football boots worn in matches. The new ck and white checkered ball design, distinctly different from traditional footballs, became particrly sought after as the official Horn Premiere League ball.

    ***

    Hellscape Center''s dominance over Fantasia za grew increasingly obvious, boosted by Nirvana and Queen''s promotions and now football merchandise sales. This sess drew scrutiny from Westfield Real Estate, Fantasia za''s owner.

    Westfield''s chairman demanded answers from Delvin about losing ground to a supposedly "inferior" shopping center.

    Delvin nervously exined how Arthur''s entertainment connections and marketing dominance through television, cinema, and popr artists gave Hellscape Center an edge.

    Though logical, his exnation failed to satisfy the chairman. Westfield had invested heavily in matching Arthur''s promotional tactics, even hiring celebrities and running advertisements on Hellfire Channel itself.

    Determined to understand the disparity, Delvin visited Hellscape Center personally. The regr traffic seemed inexplicable - even with famous bands like Nirvana and Queen promoting it, the numbers shouldn''t consistently exceed Fantasia za''s.

    He surveyed the amenities: upscale restaurants, Pendragon fashion boutiques,peting brands, and the new football merchandise stores. Nothing seemed extraordinary.

    Then he noticed a crowded section. People clustered around something, their excitement palpable.

    "What is that?" Delvin asked a nearby dwarf, pointing at a strange screen with buttons where someone sat transfixed.

    The dwarf turned, smiling knowingly. "First time here, eh? That''s an arcade machine - lets you y games."

    "Games..." Delvin repeated thoughtfully.

    "Tetris is the most popr one," the dwarf exined. "Can''t get people away from it."

    Delvin stared at the "arcade machine," suddenly remembering Arthur''s proposal months ago. Arthur had wanted to rent space in Fantasia za for his "video game machines" - clearly these were what he''d meant.

    Watching dozens of people crowd around the machines, their enthusiasm obvious, Delvin finally understood a key source of Hellscape Center''s consistent traffic. These games drew people in and kept theming back.

    Regret settled heavily in his stomach. If he''d epted Arthur''s offer then, Fantasia za might have shared in this sess. Instead, his rejection had helped cement Hellscape Center''s dominance.

    Delvin tried the arcade machine himself, quickly bing engrossed in Tetris. When his coins ran out, a fiend demon nudged him aside. "My turn."

    Stepping back reluctantly, Delvin watched the demon y. He marveled at how such a simple concept - arranging falling blocks of different shapes - could be so captivating. What had seemed basic at first nce revealed its addictive charm only through ying.

    He sighed heavily. Between Hellfire''s famous artists and bands, the new football merchandise, and these arcade machines, Fantasia za''s decline made perfect sense.

    Delvin also noticed the casino section of Fantasia za hemorrhaging customers. Watching people cluster around these arcade machines, he realized many probably preferred spending their coins here instead of gambling - getting guaranteed entertainment for their money.

    The difference was stark - instead of losing fortunes at card tables, visitors could enjoy themselves for hours on these machines.

    "I beat Terry''s high score!" A dwarf''s jubnt shout drew everyone''s attention, even pulling yers away from their games momentarily.

    Delvin watched the celebration with bewilderment, not quite understanding the significance but caught up in the infectious excitement.

    ***

    In his Hellfire Headquarters office, Arthur reviewed reports from his newly acquired factories. His electronics manufacturing base now extended beyond Horn Kingdom into Japon, thanks to his alliance with the Akuma royal family''s prince.

    A satisfied smile crossed his face. Soon he would introduce the world to personalputers running Hellfire OS, followed by the 8-bit gaming console.

    Patience remained crucial though. Such ambitious projects couldn''t be rushed.

    Meanwhile, Arthur reviewed the anime production progress. "Dragon Ball" was developing smoothly, while other seriesgged behind.

    The Hellfire Anime Studio had made the strategic decision to focus their resources on perfecting one series rather than dividing their attention. Their choice seemed wise - "Dragon Ball" was nearly ready for broadcast across Anatolia and Empirica.

    The Middle East and Eden regions remained untapped markets, as television itself was just being introduced there. Hellfire Channel and otherworks had yet to establish signal towers in those areas.

 Chapter 169: HP Trailer

    <h4>Chapter 169: HP Trailer</h4>

    <strong>(3rd Person POV)</strong>

    The TVworks had been ying catch up with <strong>Hellfire Channel</strong> since <i>Hellfire Got Talent''s</i> first season ended weeks ago. With their gship show on hiatus, otherworks gradually closed the ratings gap with <strong>Hellfire</strong>.

    Then <strong>Hellfire</strong> introduced live broadcast of the football game.

    It wouldn''t have been noteworthy if it was just another football match - but this was <i>"Live"</i> broadcasting, something otherworks couldn''t replicate.

    Networks across <strong>Horn</strong>, <strong>Morningstar</strong>, and other nations tried countering with popr magic swordsmanship tournaments. While these helped them recover some ground, they still couldn''t match the <strong>Horn Premiere League''s</strong> football broadcasts.

    The key factor was simple - TV viewers couldn''t resist the novelty of watching events unfold in real-time.

    At <strong>Horn Network</strong> Headquarters - ranked second in <strong>Horn Kingdom</strong> behind only <strong>Hellfire Network</strong> - an emergency meeting convened.

    Benjamin Lopez, thework''s chairman, called the meeting to address <strong>Hellfire Network''s</strong> live broadcast capabilities.

    "From <strong>Hellfire''s</strong> announcement a few days ago, it became clear how they achieved live broadcasts for both football matches and news segments," Benjamin said, his tone serious. "It''s all due to their new innovation - the <i>''Live Camera.''</i>"

    Julian, one of the executives, spoke up. "It''s remarkable how <strong>Hellfire</strong>, which isn''t even primarily an electronicspany, has pushed camera technology so far ahead."

    "That''s what frustrates me," another executive interjected. "<strong>Impact</strong>, supposedly the leading camera manufacturer, has be irrelevant. Meanwhile, <strong>Hellfire</strong> revolutionized the industry twice - first with color cameras, and now with live broadcast technology."

    Unknown to them, Arthur had adapted the live camera technology from the <i>Dragon Ball</i> world, streamlining its bulky design through magical innovation. By recing conventionalponents with magical alternatives - like substituting analog lighting systems with light-capturing spells - he''d created a morepact and efficient device.

    Benjamin massaged his temples. "We can only specte about <strong>Hellfire''s</strong> methods. Their announcement mentioned the live cameras will be avable through <strong>Hellfire Electronics</strong>. It seems the infamous exiled prince has been quietly building a research division for cameras and television technology."

    He leaned back in his chair. "Until <strong>Hellfire Electronics</strong> begins distribution, we''re stuck waiting. And we have no idea when these cameras will hit the market. Once again, we''re at <strong>Hellfire''s</strong> mercy."

    Thework had no alternatives. They''d hoped copying <strong>Hellfire''s</strong> telenovs and news segments would help close the gap, but the distance between them only seemed to grow wider.

    To make matters worse, <strong>Horn Network</strong> and itspetitors realized that even after acquiring live cameras, they''d still need to lease transmission tower ess from <strong>Hellfire Network</strong> for optimal broadcast coverage.

    The <strong>Horn Premiere League''s</strong> fifth match on May 13th saw <strong>Hellfire FC</strong> face off against <strong>Inferno United</strong>, driving <strong>Hellfire Network''s</strong> ratings to new heights across <strong>Anatolia</strong>.

    Even in regions where the live broadcast suffered from weak signals or dys, viewers remained captivated as football''s poprity steadily grew.

    ording to the <i>Pendragon Survey</i>, <strong>Hellfire FC</strong> had emerged as the league''s most popr team, their dominant victory over <strong>Inferno United</strong> only cementing their position at the top.

    The following day''s sixth match pitted the second-ranked <strong>Horns FC</strong> against <strong>Hell Knights</strong>. While <strong>Hell Knights</strong> showed marked improvement in their y, they still fell to <strong>Horns FC''s</strong> superior technique and teamwork.

    As the <strong>Horn Premiere League</strong> gained momentum, corporate interest followed. Companies began approaching football clubs with sponsorship offers, transforming the sport''s financialndscape.

    The club owners who''d initially doubted Arthur''s vision now saw the full scope of his strategy unfolding. As longtime football enthusiasts, they''d dreamed of seeing their beloved sport gain widespread recognition. But the prospect of turning a profit - something they''d considered impossible - proved Arthur''s business acumen extended far beyond entertainment.

    The <strong>Horn Football Association</strong>, under Arthur''s ownership, also began securing corporate sponsorships. Stadium advertising boards and team uniforms in theter <strong>Horn Premiere League</strong> matches would soon disy sponsor logos.

    By May 21st, viewers noticed prominent brands like "<strong>HOLLOW</strong>" adorning the stadium banners, while yer uniforms featured various corporate emblems. But what caught the audience''s attention most was the distinctive bottles the yers drank from during breaks.

    During amercial break, Karnox of <strong>Hellfire FC</strong> appeared on screen, taking a long drink from a sleek bottle. "Get energized with <i>Monster</i>!" the announcer proimed. "The new sports drink from <strong>Hellfire Beverage</strong>! Just 0.3 dors at your local store - with special discounts at <strong>Horn City Hellscape Center</strong>!"

    The advertisement captured the imagination of viewers young and old alike.

    Arthur watched the <i>Monster</i>mercial from his office with satisfaction. The sports drink was another innovation he''d acquired from the <i>Dragon Ball</i> world weeks ago, adapting its electrolyte form and energy-boostingpounds for local production. The timing couldn''t have been better - the drink''sunch perfectlyplemented football''s rising poprity.

    <i>Monster''s</i> sess wouldrgely depend on football''s growing poprity. Arthur knew the sports drink had potential to challenge "<strong>Red Mana''s</strong>" market dominance.

    While football continued its upward trajectory, another project reached a crucial stage - the <i>Harry Potter</i> film entered its final phase of editing.

    The <strong>Hellfire Network</strong> would soon introduce <i>movie trailers</i> to promote the film, a marketing concept this world had yet to discover. Arthur intended to revolutionize how films were advertised.

    Several major studios had already requested advance screenings, curious about Arthur''stest project. Though these were his longtime partners, he''d noticed their loyalty wavering as they gravitated toward studios with established VFX departments.

    Arthur couldn''t fault their skepticism - his directing hiatus had led the film industry to question his capabilities.

    The <strong>Lava Brothers</strong>, a prominent demon studio from his <strong>Morningstar</strong> days, particrly exemplified this shift. Despite operating their own <strong>VFX Studio</strong> - one they''d purchased from Arthur himself - and producing several blockbusters, they saw little value in maintaining ties with <strong>Hellfire Studio</strong>.

    Their only consistent contact came through inquiries about <i>Lord of the Rings</i> sequels.

    Arthur remained unfazed by their attitude.

    The <strong>Lava Brothers</strong>, like other studios, assumed he''d resigned himself to television, believing his blockbuster filmmaking days were behind him.

    The television industry''s rapid growth couldn''t mask a fundamental reality - even at its peak, monthly TV revenue paled inparison to what a sessful blockbuster film could generate in just four weeks. Factor in the substantial costs of operating TVworks, and the financial disparity became even more stark.

    This perception of television as a lesser market led major film studios to essentially abandon it to Arthur. Rival studios, <strong>Titan Pictures</strong> among them, had growncent. They dismissed Arthur as a seriouspetitor, convinced he would remain confined to television''s modest profits while they maintained their grip on the more lucrative film industry.

    The next day brought an unprecedented surprise to the entertainment industry when <strong>Hellfire Network</strong>unched a revolutionary film promotion.

    Thework, which covered most of <strong>Anatolia</strong> and <strong>Empirica</strong> - though live broadcasts hadn''t reached the <strong>Empirica</strong> region yet - aired the <i>"Harry Potter"</i> trailer across both territories simultaneously.

    Viewers sat transfixed as something entirely new unfolded on their screens: A misty train station emerged from darkness, its architecture grand and mysterious. Above it, perched on distant cliffs, loomed an ancient castle beneath a full moon.

    "In a world where magic shapes reality," a deep voice resonated, "three races stand at the crossroads of destiny. Humans... Demons... Elves..."

    The scenes shifted rapidly - a bustling magical metropolis, Hogwarts Castle bathed in ethereal light, students facing the Sorting Hat. Each moment revealed more of this magical world where humans, demons, and elves studied together.

    "Where courage will meet intellect," the narrator intoned as Harry Potter raised his wand, lightning crackling around him, "and ambition will sh with destiny."

    The trailer climaxed with dramatic shes of magicalbat, ending on a haunting question: "Where will your magic take you?"

    As the title "<i>Harry Potter</i>" appeared on screen, homes across both kingdoms erupted with excitement.

    "Mom, I want to watch it!" a child eximed in an <strong>Empirica</strong> household, bouncing with enthusiasm.

    The parents released a breath they hadn''t realized they''d been holding. Like everyone else, they''d never seen anything like this before. Film promotion had always meant simple billboards and posters - this was something entirely new.

 Chapter 170: Shocking the world once again

    <h4>Chapter 170: Shocking the world once again</h4>

    <strong>(3rd Person POV)</strong>

    The release of the first <i>"Harry Potter"</i> trailer sent shockwaves around the world.

    Until now, the film industry had relied solely on billboards and posters to market their movies. Once again, <strong>Hellfire Studio</strong> transformed industry standards. The preview reel generated such intense anticipation that audiences wanted to see the film immediately, even without a release date announced.

    Traditional promotional methods suddenly seemed antiquated to those who''d witnessed the trailer. While <strong>Hellfire</strong> had previously used television for film promotion, those had been simple actor appearances or still images. Most studios still preferred billboards, posters, and newspaper ads for their lower costspared to television spots.

    But <i>Harry Potter''s</i> preview reel, with its mysterious narrator and captivating scenes, had changed film marketing forever.

    Throughout the day, <strong>Hellfire</strong> aired the trailer repeatedly. Each showing drew viewers back to their screens, unable to look away.

    The next day brought a second trailer, showcasing a lighter tone with Harry selecting his wand. This preview particrly resonated with children, intensifying their eagerness to see the film.

    "Why won''t they tell us when it''sing out?" viewers demanded, frustrated by the trailers''ck of release dates.

    "It''s torture not knowing when we can watch this!" a father eximed at home, his wife sharing his mix of excitement and impatience.

    The third day brought another <i>Harry Potter</i> trailer, this one focusing on Draco Malfoy''s sinister presence. It ended with the long-awaited announcement: <i><strong>"June 18, 1273."</strong></i>

    After the trailer, Arthur appeared on screen alongside Daniel and Abigail. "What you''ve just witnessed is what I call a <i>''movie trailer,''</i>" he exined, introducing the new term to a world unfamiliar with preview reels.

    "With me are the young stars of <i>Harry Potter</i>," Arthur continued, gesturing to Daniel and Abigail, who delivered their promotional lines from the teleprompter with natural enthusiasm.

    "See you at the cinema!" the young actors waved goodbye.

    The presentation aplished two goals - establishing the term <i>"movie trailer"</i> in public consciousness and heightening anticipation for Daniel and Abigail''s performances.

    At King''s Cross station in Wales, employees gathered to discuss the previews during their break.

    "How many times have you watched the <i>Harry Potter</i> trailer?" one asked.

    "Lost count," his coworker grinned. "Can''t get enough of seeing our station on screen!"

    "That train was definitely one of ours," another added proudly.

    Their conversation drifted to memories of the filming. "To think Arthur shot right here," one sighed. "I should''ve taken that chance to be an extra."

    "Same here," his friend agreed. "<strong>Hellfire</strong> was recruiting extras, but I passed. Who knew the film would look this impressive? What a missed opportunity."

    They weren''t alone in their regret - across Wales, others who''d declined roles as extras found themselves wishing they''d taken part in what was clearly bing andmark production.

    <i>Harry Potter</i> trailers reached even the Eden and Middle East regions.

    The dwarven kingdoms, particrly the <strong>Craft Kingdom</strong>, had developed fledgling TV markets with nascentworks.

    Since <strong>Hellfire Network</strong> hadn''t yet established direct coverage in these areas, Arthur arranged to broadcast the trailers through localworks - and watched as excitement spread across these new territories.

    While <i>Harry Potter</i> captivated audiences with its groundbreaking trailers, the entertainment industry that had dismissed Arthur experienced an unsettling sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu.

    News outlets across all media covered Arthur''stest innovation. TV anchors delivered nearly identical reports: "<strong>Hellfire Studio</strong>, or more specifically, Arthur Mornin- excuse me, Pendragon, has once again stunned the world with his <i>''Harry Potter''</i> movie trailers!" One anchor added, "Are we witnessing the inevitable return of filmmaking''s king?"

    Newspapers ran bold headlines: <i>"Major Studios'' Dismissal of Arthur Pendragon Backfires as Movie Trailers Transform Film Promotion!"</i>

    <i>"Arthur Pendragon Revolutionizes Film Marketing with ''Movie Trailer'' Innovation, Industry Stunned"</i>

    These headlines forced major studios, who had been ignoring Arthur and <strong>Hellfire Studio</strong>, to acknowledge an ufortable truth - they could no longer afford to dismiss him.

    At <strong>Titan Pictures</strong> Headquarters, Alexander stared at the reports on his desk, unsettled by Arthur''s unexpectedeback. "How''s the promotional campaign for <i>''Great Knight Conqueror''</i> going?" he asked Ed Louis, his chief marketing executive.

    Ed hesitated before responding. "We''ve gained solid traction across Anatolia, Empirica, and even the Eden regions, but..."

    "But Arthur''s <i>Harry Potter</i> trailers have stolen our thunder?" Alexander finished, his jaw tightening.

    Ed''s grim nod confirmed his fears.

    Alexander massaged his temples, frustrated by Arthur''s unpredictability. "We have to acknowledge it - he caught uspletely off guard."

    "What''s our next move, boss?" Ed asked.

    "What else can we do?" Alexander''s lips curved into a bitter smile. "Traditional marketing won''t cut it anymore. We need to create our own <i>movie trailers</i>."

    Ed nodded, seeing the logic.

    "We won''t be alone in this," Alexander added. "Every major studio with a June release will be scrambling to match Arthur''s innovation. We need to move quickly - can''t let <i>Harry Potter</i> monopolize public attention."

    "Understood," Ed replied, already mentally listing the resources they''d need.

    But as <strong>Titan Pictures</strong> and other major studios attempted to create their own trailers, they discovered an ufortable truth: craftingpelling preview reels proved far more challenging than anticipated. Even their best efforts fell short of <i>Harry Potter''s</i> polished presentation.

    While they struggled to understand how <strong>Hellfire Studio</strong> achieved such seamless editing, the answery in something they hadn''t considered - Arthur''sputer editing programs, a technology that remained his closely guarded secret.

    Days after <i>Harry Potter''s</i> trailers debuted, prominent film critics began publishing unprecedented reviews based solely on the previews.

    Dudu, a respected critic known for her discerning taste and open admiration of Arthur''s work, wrote boldly: "The king of entertainment strikes again! Arthur Pendragon has outdone himself with this uing film. Based on these groundbreaking <i>''movie trailers,''</i> I''m staking my professional reputation on this prediction: <i>Harry Potter</i> deserves 5/5 stars!"

    She borated further in her magazine column: "My rating isn''t just about the exceptional trailers. The <i>Harry Potter</i> novel haspletely captivated me with its storytelling. Knowing Arthur''s directorial prowess, I haveplete confidence he''ll trante this magic to the screen. This will be a five-star masterpiece!"

    Her enthusiastic pre-release review sparked a trend among <strong>Hellfire</strong>-friendly critics, who began publishing their own anticipatory ratings.

    This departure from traditional review practices drew sharp criticism from other film critics, creating an unusual spectacle - critics publicly challenging their peers'' professional judgment. Readers found themselves witnessing an unprecedented divide in the typically unified criticalmunity.

    At <strong>Lava Brothers</strong> headquarters in Fend City, <strong>Morningstar Kingdom</strong>, chairman Fart Lava called his brother Ray into his office.

    "I assume you know why I''ve summoned you," Fart said, studying his brother''s expression.

    Ray settled into his chair. "The <strong>Hellfire Studio</strong> <i>movie trailers</i>?"

    Fart nodded gravely. "Our arrogance led us astray. We dismissed Arthur''s influence in the film industry and focused solely on our own productions, distancing ourselves from the exiled prince. That decision may prove costly."

    "I disagree, elder brother," Ray countered. "We made the rational choice. Arthur''s return to filmmaking sess wasn''t guaranteed. Prioritizing our own studio was the right move."

    Fart rose from his chair. "We need to visit <strong>Horn Kingdom</strong> and meet with Arthur personally."

    "What''s the point?" Ray challenged. "I hear <strong>Hellfire Studio</strong> ns to handle distribution in our kingdom themselves. They don''t need us."

    "But we could negotiate!" Fart insisted. "If this film matches <i>Lord of the Rings</i> in quality, we can''t afford to be left out!"

    Ray fell silent, and only after further discussion did the brothers agree to seek an audience with Arthur in <strong>Horn Kingdom</strong>.

    Dayster, Fart and Ray Lava found themselves among Arthur''s former distribution partners in <strong>Hellfire''s</strong> lobby, all seeking to rebuild bridges. Instead of Arthur, they were greeted by an employee named Klein.

    The message was clear in Arthur''s absence - their presence meant little to him now.

    From his office, Arthur deliberately ignored their visit. He''d already secured new distributionworks in key regions and established fresh partnerships where needed. His former allies'' sudden interest held no value - let them learn the cost of their doubt.

    Arthur turned his attention to more pressing matters, reviewing reports from his team. The <strong>Evros Football Association</strong> acquisition had been finalized, and more significantly, he''d secured the <strong>Anatolia Football Association</strong> - <strong>Morningstar Kingdom''s</strong> primary organizer of football leagues and events.

    Thistest acquisition meant Arthur now controlled football''s future in <strong>Morningstar</strong>, expanding his influence over the sport''s development.

 Chapter 171: Finally

    <h4>Chapter 171: Finally</h4>

    <strong>(3rd Person POV)</strong>

    <i>Harry Potter</i> sales were climbing as people rushed to read it after seeing the trailers. Many soon regretted this - not because the book was bad, but because it was so good they wished they''d waited for the film.

    This led others to hold off on reading, preferring to see the story fresh in theaters.

    Meanwhile, other studios tried releasing their own movie trailers, but none could match what Harry Potter had shown.

    The anticipation surrounding Harry Potter prompted most studios to adjust their release schedules, avoiding directpetition. All except Titan Pictures, who scheduled <i>"Great Knight Conqueror"</i> for <strong>June 22, 1273</strong> - mere days after Harry Potter''s <strong>June 18</strong> release.

    Titan Pictures seemed blind to the situation, with their director openly dering in newspapers that their film would surpass the <i>"hyped"</i> Harry Potter.

    Many industry watchers saw history repeating itself - Titan Pictures once again refusing to back down from a sh with Hellfire Studio.

    The rivalry sparked widespread spection about which studio would prevail. At Wall Street in Apple City, USE, investment brokers even set up informal betting pools.

    "Which one''s getting your money?" asked James Wheeler, a veteran broker managing the bets.

    "Harry Potter," replied a trader, straightening his cor.

    "Not backing Titan''s new film?" Wheeler''s eyes crinkled with amusement.

    The trader shook his head. "Look at the facts - Harry Potter''s poprity is through the roof. Besides, remember how Titan''s <i>''Desired Crown''</i> fell t against Hellfire''s western movie? Even with that massive budget, they couldn''tpete."

    "Fair point," Wheeler chuckled, noting down the bet.

    Not everyone was convinced Harry Potter would dominate. Some backed "Great Knight Conqueror", partly because betting against Harry Potter offered better odds, though a few genuinely believed the hype was overblown.

    Arguments erupted across Wall Street trading floors.

    "This <i>Harry Potter</i> thing''s just a kids'' movie," one trader scoffed. "People are only excited because Arthur Morningstar made it."

    "Arthur Pendragon," his colleague corrected. "He changed his name. And don''t write it off as just a kids'' film because the cast is young. Mark my words - it''ll be something special."

    "I''m not buying it," the first trader shook his head, but couldn''t deny the world''s growing anticipation for Harry Potter''s release.

    ***

    <strong>(Mark Stark POV)</strong>

    The <i>Harry Potter</i> trailers have been great for business - my publishingpany Stark Quill is seeing book sales shoot up like never before.

    I couldn''t be happier about this. Having read the book several times myself, I can honestly say it''s one of my favorites. It stands right up there with works by some of the best authors I know.

    My whole family''s caught the <i>Harry Potter</i> fever. My kids and wife have read it too, and we''re all dying to see the film. Sometimes I wish I hadn''t read it - might be more fun to watch without knowing what''sing - but I''m still excited to see how they bring it to life.

    As Stark Quill''s owner, I got an early look at Arthur''s second book, "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets." I''m halfway through andpletely hooked. Makes me wonder where Arthur gets these amazing stories from - The Demonfather, Lord of the Rings, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, and now Harry Potter. The man''s got an endless supply of great tales.

    Arthur''s endless creativity amazes me, but right now I''m focused on something else - getting my family to Horn Kingdom for the premiere.

    We''ve booked our flights already.

    The premiere in Horn Kingdom''s capital would only be an hour ahead of Morningstar and other Anatolia kingdoms, but that hour meant everything to us. If Arthur hadn''t mentioned this detail, we''d have settled for the Morningstar screening.

    Sometimes, it''s hard to believe I''m business partners with such an influential demon. His reputation grows by the day, yet he still takes the time to share these small but crucial details.

    "We''re going to another kingdom? Yes!" Erica bounced around our sofa, her excitement contagious.

    Jeffrey couldn''t contain his grin either. Their enthusiasm was understandable - this would be their first trip outside Leaf Kingdom. Usually, my business travels kept me away from family, but Harry Potter''s soaring sales had finally given me breathing room to n a proper family vacation.

    ***

    The Horn Kingdom''s capital weed us with unexpected sights. While waiting for Harry Potter''s release, I took the kids exploring.

    We discovered the city had fallen in love with a new sport called <i>"football."</i> Children filled the streets wearing team jerseys, kicking balls with friends. My kids were instantly fascinated.

    Following their interest, I bought tickets to a match. The spectacle amazed us - floating cameras captured every moment, and a dance troupe performed before the yers took the field.

    I found myself unexpectedly drawn into the football match. It''s strange - back home in Leaf Kingdom, and across most of Evros, nobody pays attention to the sport. It barely exists in people''s minds.

    Yet here in Horn Kingdom, the atmosphere was electric. During myst visit, football hadn''t even registered as entertainment. Now I sat in a packed stadium, caught up in the excitement.

    Only afterward did I learn that Arthur''s Hellfire Network broadcasts these matches live. I had tough at myself - I''d been so buried in running Stark Quill and other businesses that I''d missed Arthur''s moves into football, including his acquisition of major associations. The demon never stops innovating.

    From what I can see, he''s transformed football''s poprity in Horn Kingdom. Other kingdoms might not have embraced it yet, but this feels like just the beginning.

    ***

    <strong>June 18th</strong> arrived before we knew it. Standing outside Pendragon Theatre with my wife and bouncing children, I felt the crowd''s anticipation. We found our seats among the buzzing audience, my own excitement building.

    Whispered conversations filled the theatre until the lights dimmed. As darkness fell, the murmurs faded to silence. The moment we''d traveled so far to experience was finally here.

    The film opened simply with "Hellfire Studio" - quite different from the usual parade of studio logos.

    <i>Must be because of Arthur''s split with his distribution partners,</i> I thought, recalling the recent industry gossip about his falling out with previous coborators.

    The story followed the novel closely, though I noticed subtle differences.

    Harry''s character felt different - less mischievous than in the novel, more innocent as he endured Dudley''s constant bullying. The audience around me grew increasingly frustrated watching these scenes.

    "If that fat kid was my son, I''d teach him some proper manners," someone muttered behind me.

    I had to smile at their protective reactions. The whole theater seemed to share a moment of satisfaction when Dudley found himself trapped behind the snake''s ss enclosure.

    "Ha! That''s what you get!" a man in the front row called out, drawing scatteredughs of agreement.

    The mood lifted considerably when Harry''s Hogwarts letter arrived by owl. My kids practically bounced in their seats at this first real sign of magic in Harry''s life.

    When Hagrid finally arrived to take Harry away, a demon in the audience couldn''t contain himself. "Thank demon lord. Those Dursleys were driving me crazy."

    "About time someone stood up to them," his neighbor agreed.

    Their reactions were understandable. After watching Harry''s aunt, uncle, and cousin mistreat him for so long, there was something deeply satisfying about seeing the massive Hagrid terrify the Dursleys into giving Harry his first-ever birthday cake.

    As Harry left Privet Drive, the audience leaned forward in anticipation - the trailers had shown us his destination would be King''s Cross station, where everything would change.

    When Harry reached King''s Cross, he was surrounded by ordinary humans until he passed through that mysterious wall to find the Hogwarts Express.

    "I had no idea King''s Cross had a magical barrier," whispered the man next to me.

    I turned with a smile. "You''re from Wales?"

    He nodded proudly. "Born and raised."

    I held back a chuckle, not wanting to spoil his imagination of secret passages in his local station. As a fan of the novel, I shared his wish that tform 9? really existed.

    The scene shifted to Harry aboard the Hogwarts Express, surrounded by young elves and demons his age. The setting radiated magic - Arthur had captured the wonder perfectly.

 Chapter 172: Almost hitting a billion

    <h4>Chapter 172: Almost hitting a billion</h4>

    <strong>(3rd Person POV)</strong>

    The film captivated its audience as Harry''s journey continued. Viewers smiled watching his first friendship form with Hermione on the Hogwarts Express, their anticipation building until Hogwarts finally appeared - its magical architecture drawing gasps of wonder.

    The Sorting Hat ceremony introduced the four houses: <i>Gryffindor</i> for humans like Harry, <i>Ravenw</i> where Hermione surprisingly joined the elves, <i>Slytherin</i> housing demons like Draco Malfoy, and <i>Hufflepuff</i> with its diverse mix. The magical world mesmerized everyone - the sight of wands amplifying spells so dramatically had audience members wishing they owned such powerful instruments.

    Then came the ghosts, and Mark found himself puzzled. Nearly Headless Nick appeared to wee Harry, Ron, and Hermione to his ghostly party, floating transparent through the great hall. The Bloody Baron, The Fat Friar, and The Grey Lady drifted in the background, passing through walls with eerie realism.

    Mark couldn''t figure out how <strong>Hellfire Studio</strong> had achieved these effects. Even the most sophisticated illusion magic couldn''t make actors appear truly transparent or pass through solid objects so convincingly.

    The thought that they might be actual ghosts crossed his mind, but he dismissed it as impossible. Still, the effects were unlike anything he''d seen in other films.

    The audience delighted in the ghosts'' humorous interactions, and Mark eventually decided to stop analyzing the technical aspects and simply enjoy the story unfolding before him.

    The flying lesson scene had the audience fascinated. A wizard professor in the crowd watched intently, wondering if such broom flight was truly possible.

    Harry took flight for the first time, his natural talent was obvious - he moved through the air like he''d been doing it for years.

    As the story moved forward, Harry discovered the <i>Mirror of </i><i>Erised</i>, revealing his deepest desire. His conversation with Albus Dumbledore about the mirror''s power left many in the theater feeling sympathy for the young wizard.

    The film continued, with Mark and other viewerspletely absorbed. Harry and his friends faced off against a Primal Troll - a creature farrger than the trolls that roamed the world today. Despite the odds, they emerged victorious.

    Time passed in the story, leading to Harry''s first Quidditch match. Gryffindor''s victory brought smiles to everyone''s faces, including Harry''s.

    "Makes me wish I could y that," someone whispered in the audience, voicing what many felt, though they knew magical flying brooms weren''t exactlymon.

    The story took a more serious turn when Hagrid revealed the truth about Harry''s parents. "Lily and James Potter," he said warmly, "weren''t just known for fighting dark forces. They worked hard to bring humans, demons, and elves together when everyone was divided. They believed working together was the only way to keep peace in our world."

    His words resonated throughout the theater. The world outside remained deeply divided - humans maintaining their superiority over demons, elves shing with dwarves over environmental issues, dwarves iming intellectual supremacy, and demons nursing centuries-old grievances from their fallen empire of four hundred years past.

    The audience understood why the Potters'' cause had been so important.

    The story built toward its climax, drawing stronger reactions from the audience with each scene.

    When Quirrell revealed Voldemort''s face on the back of his head, children throughout the theater gasped in fear. Even adults recoiled - a dwarf in front involuntarily touched the back of his neck, shuddering.

    Though Mark knew Harry would survive, he still found himself tense. Next to him, an elf couldn''t contain herself. <strong>"Run!"</strong> she cried out as Quirrell cornered Harry with a wall of magical mes.

    "This is it, you brat. Give me the stone!" Quirrell advanced menacingly.

    "No!" Harry backed away, only to burn himself on the me wall.

    "There is no other way, Harry. Give me the sorcerer''s stone!" Voldemort''s face demanded.

    The audience leaned forward as Harry gritted his teeth before saying, "You want the stone?" He held it up.

    "Yes, yes." Quirrell''s eyes gleamed with greed. "Hand it!" Voldemort echoed.

    "Here!" Harry tossed it past the mes.

    Quirrell rushed through his own me wall to catch it - a decision that proved fatal. The magic, amplified by his wand, set him aze. Yet his obsession drove him forward.

    Harry, seeing the mes die down after Quirrell passed through, followed and grabbed the stone. He watched as his pursuer writhed in agony.

    <strong>"Ahh!!!"</strong> Quirrell screamed, Voldemort''s shrieks joining his own.

    The audience couldn''t help but appreciate the irony, some even chuckling at Quirrell being consumed by his own spell. When Harry''s touch turned the already burning professor to dust, a demon in the crowd remarked, "What an idiot. Done in by his own mes."

    Scatteredughter filled the theater - the viin''s downfall proving both satisfying and slightly amusing.

    ***

    Harry Potter''s opening day exceeded even the most optimistic predictions. Rather than losing momentum, the film''s poprity grew stronger each day. When Titan Pictures released "Great Knight Conqueror," their stubbornly scheduledpetitor barely made a ripple in the market.

    While Titan Pictures struggled with disappointingly low numbers, Harry Potter dominated screens across Empirica, Anatolia, Evros, Eden, and the Middle East.

    A week into its release, the film stunned the industry by reaching <strong>310 million dors</strong> in box office earnings.

    Records fell one after another.

    Arthur watched these numbers with a mix of satisfaction and concern. The fact that one dor here equaled ten in his previous world''s economy made this achievement even more staggering. Three hundred million dors meant the equivalent of three billion in his old world''s terms - an almost unthinkable sum for a single film to generate so quickly.

    He could already see theing rush - major corporations would be scrambling to invest in film production, attracted by such astronomical returns.

    With Harry Potter''s massive earnings, media outlets dusted off their old economic concerns. These were the same headlines they''d used when Lord of the Rings had broken records - warnings about "economic shock" and "rising intion."

    The newspaper on his desk read: <i>"Harry Potter Earns Astronomical 310 Million Dors! Economic Experts Warn of Potential Market Destabilization"</i>

    The article spected about the <i>"Dor"</i> currency facing significant intion. But Arthur viewed these concerns differently. He understood this world''s currency dynamics - value would hold steady overall, with intion varying by nation rather than hitting globally.

    Horn Kingdom''s cost of living was rising, true, but sries kept pace. The simple equation of one dor here equaling ten from his previous world no longer held up, as currency values had been gradually shifting anyway.

    Wealth itself wasn''t Arthur''s primary concern - he focused more on umting Entertainment Points. Though he recognized his growing fortune would attract unwanted attention from both government officials and criminals, the Horn Kingdom''s authorities posed little threat.

    Criminals, however, warranted caution. Arthur flexed his fingers absently - it had been a while since he''d had a good fight.

    ***

    <strong>(Arthur POV)</strong>

    Five weeks in, and "Harry Potter" finally hit its ceiling at 800 million dors.

    <strong>[Congrattions! Your film has set new records and earned 800 million dors!]</strong>

    <strong>[Reward: Bracelet of Lifeblood Veins]</strong>

    <strong>[A delicate band of darkened metal interwoven with crimson veins that pulse with a subtle glow. The veins contain an ancient enchanted substance that resonates with the world''s mana, creating an elegant intery of deep crimson and gold that seems to breathe with life.]</strong>

    <i>"A bracelet?"</i> I examined its functions, finding it could enhance magical spells like my Devourer Ring.

    The interesting part was its <strong>{Heartbeat Sense}</strong> ability, supposedly letting me feel the world''s "heartbeat" and detect shifts between secret realms and the surface world.

    <i>World''s heartbeat?</i> I wondered if it was sensing something like tectonic movements or maic field fluctuations - there had to be some scientific exnation behind this mystical description.

    It also came with <strong>{World Traversal}</strong>, allowing one teleport per day through the Lifeblood Veins'' power.

    "Nice bracelet, but..." I frowned. <i>"For 800 million dors? Really?"</i> The teleportation seemed particrly underwhelming - I rarely left my office anyway.

    Still, I pulled it from storage. The thin band looked decent enough on my wrist, at least.

    While admiring the bracelet''s design, I felt the ancient amulet in my pocket suddenly vibrate.

    Pulling it out, I watched with raised eyebrows as it reacted strongly to my new essory. The bracelet sent an odd sensation through my wrist - somehow it could detect that the amulet held information about various secret realms.

    My curiosity peaked when the amulet began glowing helplessly, as if the bracelet was forcing it to reveal its secrets. It surrendered the location of one realm.

    Information flooded my mind through the bracelet: <i>"cia Expanse... Anus Gate..."</i>

    I processed this new knowledge. <i>cia Expanse</i>y at the world''s end, far south of <strong>Horn Kingdom</strong> - essentially this world''s version of <i>Antarctica</i>. And within it stood the Anus Gate, supposedly a portal to the <i><strong>Netherworld.</strong></i>

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 173: World Council

    <h4>Chapter 173: World Council</h4>

    <strong>(3rd Person POV)</strong>

    The staggering eight hundred million dor box office of <i>"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer''s Stone"</i> drew envious stares across the industry. Even wealthy nobles found themselves shaking their heads at such unprecedented profits, their eyes fixed on Arthur and Hellfire Studio''s meteoric rise.

    Financial publications estimated Arthur Pendragon''s worth had crossed the billion-dor threshold, potentially cing him among the world''s top 30 wealthiest individuals. At just eighteen, he''d shatter the record for youngest billionaire.

    His transformation from exiled prince to entertainment tycoon in mere years had shocked everyone. Two years ago, no one could have predicted this - yet here he stood, reshaping the industry with each new venture.

    The doubters had fallen silent. Arthur''s consistent achievements proved his sess wasn''t mere luck, leaving his former partners to wrestle with their regrets about distancing themselves from Hellfire Studio.

    None felt this more keenly than the Lava Brothers in Morningstar Kingdom. In their office, Fart and Ray could only stare at Harry Potter''s box office numbers.

    "I knew this film would be special," Fart shook his head. "The trailers alone showed its potential. We should have trusted our instincts..."

    Ray sighed. "It''s not just the film itself. Arthur''s televisionwork amplified everything."

    "Exactly," Fart agreed. "TV''s widespread adoption,bined with thosepelling movie trailers and that dramatic narration - he''s revolutionized film promotion entirely."

    Ray nodded silently. Arthur hadn''t just changed the entertainment industry. He''d transformed their entire world.

    ***

    While the world marveled at Harry Potter''s eight hundred million dor earnings, a secret emergency meeting convened in a ce hidden from ordinary eyes.

    At the world''s equatory the <i>Eternal Citadel</i>, a grand city-state concealed from the outside world. Here, in this ind-sized secret realm, all four races coexisted within its borders.

    At its heart stood the <strong><i>World Council</i></strong> headquarters - a massive structure of stone and metal, its foundations carved with intricate histories of all races. Ancient pirs of copper and bronze supported its weight, while statues of legendary figures from each race lined its entrance.

    Inside the council chamber, beneath a magical dome that disyed a shimmering globe of their world, representatives from all races gathered. The chamber buzzed with tension as they took their seats around the grand table.

    A human representative spoke first. "High Arbiter," he addressed the figure at the head of the table. "The four races requested this audience because of this demon, <i>Arthur Pendragon-</i>"

    "Arthur Morningstar," a demon representative cut in sharply.

    The human barely spared the demons'' section a nce. "His name matters little. What matters is the threat he poses to the global currency our World Council established four hundred years ago."

    Before the High Arbitery a newspaper announcing Harry Potter''s unprecedented earnings.

    "Arthur''s earnings mock the concept of fair wealth distribution," the human representative continued. "This level of profit from mere entertainment is unprecedented."

    The dwarf mmed his fist on the table. "How can we ept this? Our people break their backs mining rare materials, creating technological marvels - yet a simple film earns more than our most ambitious projects!"

    "This obsession with entertainment and quick profits goes against everything we value," the elf added, her voice tight with frustration. "Where is the sustainability in this system? The respect for tradition?"

    The High Arbiter looked at everyone, expression hidden behind a magic veil that obscured every feature. When speaking, the Arbiter''s voice carried such perfect neutrality that none could determine gender with certainty, though most assumed male from subtle mannerisms. "What could be done?"

    The representatives exchanged meaningful nces before the demon leaned forward. "We want to establish our own currencies."

    "Keep the dor as the global standard," the human quickly added, "but let each race create their own currency. This way, we maintain better control over wealth distribution."

    The dwarf''s eyes gleamed as he spoke. "Arthur may earn millions, but where is the value in that? Our goods, our resources, our craftsmanship have been devalued by a currency that does not reflect true worth. We demand the right to create our own currency, one backed by the precious metals and craftsmanship we trade. Only then will our contributions to this world be properly valued."

    Murmurs filled the council chamber as the High Arbiter turned toward the elders. They rose from their seats, pointing usatory fingers at the four races'' representatives.

    "We disagree!" one elder''s voice shook with anger. "The global currency has stood for four hundred years under the World Council! A single currency provides stability that all regions rely on, reducing economic vtility and uncertainty!"

    "Introducing new currencies," another elder warned, "would destabilize exchange rates! Multiple currencies and spective trading would throw our economy into chaos!"

    The human and other representatives bristled at the elders'' promations, their disagreement in on their faces.

    The fierce-looking demon representative leaned forward, his eyes zing. "What you elders fail to understand is that wealth isn''t just about money - it''s about power. The current situation, where wealth is controlled by a select few, demonstrates weakness. Arthur''s films are only the tip of the iceberg; we see a pattern where those with influence control the system for their own benefit."

    <strong>"Silence."</strong> The High Arbiter''s single word carried absolute authority.

    The council chamber fell still.

    "In this council," the High Arbiter continued, "representatives cannot disrespect anyone. Especially the elders."

    The representatives sat quietly, enduring the elders'' arrogant stares.

    "I apologize," the demon bowed his head.

    The council quickly acknowledged his apology, eager to move forward.

    "With all respect, High Arbiter," the human representative ventured, "we implore the council to think further! A film earning such vast sumspared to vital industries threatens our world economy. Only with our own currencies can we better manage this situation!"

    The High Arbiter remained silent, knowing full well the representatives used Arthur merely as an excuse to push for independent currencies.

    Yet their concerns weren''t entirely baseless. "I know little of this Arthur - I have just awakened from a long dream," the High Arbiter said. "But I will examine this matter closely. I must understand who this Arthur is and how his filmsmand such wealth."

    The representatives and elders fell silent at the High Arbiter''s revtion of his recent awakening.

    His reputation preceded him - one of the legendary heroes who defeated the demon tyrant four hundred years ago. His strength remained unmatched, even after sleeping for years, sometimes decades, between periods of activity.

    The High Arbiter had created the World Council to unite the four races, using the organization to shape global politics and economics. His establishment of the dor as world currency had transformedmerce across all kingdoms.

    After the representatives departed, he turned to the anxious elders. "I''m going to observe the outside world. Do not interfere."

    "High Arbiter, please reconsider!" the elders protested. "You''ve only just awakened. The world has grown uncertain - let your subordinates investigate before you reveal yourself-"

    "Silence." His raised hand carried more weight than a shout. "Few in the outside world could pose any threat to me. I will be fine."

    The elders'' mouths opened and closed helplessly, the Arbiter''s pressure rendering them speechless.

    In a blur of movement, the High Arbiter vanished, reappearing atop the grand dome. His gaze pierced reality itself, opening a swirling portal that he stepped through without hesitation.

    The elders could only stare up at the dome, shaking their heads.

    "Still insists on handling everything personally."

    "Nothing we can do about it."

    The ind is invisible to the outside world, concealed for centuries by powerful enchantments. Only the representatives of the four races can enter, yet even they remain unaware that the ind lies precisely at the equator.

    Their passage to this hidden sanctuary is possible only through the <strong>World Spire Portal.</strong>

 Chapter 174: Politics

    <h4>Chapter 174: Politics</h4>

    <strong>(Arthur POV)</strong>

    The news couldn''t stop talking about <i>"market destabilization"</i> and <i>"multi-currency proposals"</i>tely. Every TV channel and newspaper spected about how my film''s earnings might reshape the economy, with constant chatter about new currencies being introduced.

    Sure, it seemed like fear-mongering to discourage entertainment spending, but my gut told me there was more to it. Something about these stories felt orchestrated, as if powerful figures wereying groundwork to limit my profits.

    Following my instincts, I started moving fast. First stop: real estate. I bought properties across Horn Kingdom and expanded into Tiger Kingdom, where foreign ownership faced fewer restrictions. If the dor weakened,nd would hold value.

    Next came rare magical materials - worth more than gold and likely to appreciate if currency values shifted. Then I turned to the stock markets. I acquired shares in promisingpanies, especially dwarven corporations listed on the Empirica Stock Exchange and valuable firms on the Horn exchange.

    I didn''t stop there. Precious gems, ancient artifacts, magical equipment - anything that would hold or gain value went into my portfolio. I even had my eye on this expensive vi at Victory Peak. With the way things were heading, livingvishly made more sense than holding onto currency that might lose value.

    Politicians started showing up too, suddenly eager to befriend me. Can''t me them - earning hundreds of millions in five weeks tends to get attention. But their timing just confirmed my suspicions that bigger changes wereing.

    ***

    On July 26th, I became owner of Victory Peak''s most prestigious vi, securing it for <strong>4 million dors.</strong>

    The property took my breath away - sprawling gardens stretched into the distance, perfectly manicured with ancient trees and flowing fountains. The mansion itself rose majestically against the skyline, its ssical architecture blending seamlessly with modern luxuries.

    Only the Horn royal family''s castle surpassed my new home in grandeur.

    "This estate suits you perfectly, Mr. Pendragon. Truly worthy of a genius prince," said Mkar Ironwrath, leader of the <strong>Royalist Unit Party.</strong> He''d been trying to establish a connection with me for days now.

    "I owe it to your assistance, Mr. Ironwrath," I replied diplomatically. "Without your intervention, neither the four million price tag nor the owner''s willingness to sell would have materialized."

    Mkar beamed. "Please, it was nothing. You deserve this, Mr. Pendragon."

    I smiled politely, recognizing his true motives. With October''s election barely two months away, he was clearly fishing for campaign contributions.

    "Can we check out the inside?" Firfel whispered eagerly, nked by an equally curious Vivienne and Sylwen in her Megan Fox appearance.

    "Go ahead. I''ll join you shortly."

    After they hurried toward the mansion, I turned to Mkar. "Your party must be busy preparing for the October election. Perhaps there''s some way I could assist?"

    His smile widened. "Hehe, we would wee any support you feel appropriate, Mr. Pendragon. The decision is entirely yours."

    We strolled through my vast garden as Mkar pressed his case.

    "Your influence could do wonders for us, Mr. Pendragon. With your TVwork behind us, our message would reach every home."

    "True," I nodded. "TV coverage could significantly boost your chances."

    Internally, I scorned the Royalist Unit Party and their obsession with nobles and royalty. As a businessman without titles, their policies offered me nothing. Still, ying along with Mkar served my purposes.

    "Yes!" he eximed. "With Hellfire Network, we''d win by andslide!"

    Perfect opening. "But promoting only your party could backfire," I cautioned. "Other parties would cry foul, im media maniption. They''d argue that denying them equal TV coverage vites electionws. The Election Commission might even invalidate results if they prove unfair media coverage."

    Mkar''s enthusiasm dimmed. "I hadn''t considered that."

    "I suggest giving all parties fair coverage on mywork," I offered reasonably.

    His frown showed his true colors. "Then any party could win. That''s... not what we had in mind, Mr. Pendragon."

    I chuckled, while internally plotting. The Economic Prosperity Alliance, currently unpopr and under-supported, would make the perfect puppet. If I could maneuver their prime minister into power, I''d have far more control than dealing with these royal bootlickers.

    "Perhaps we could be subtle," I suggested. "Cover everyone, but with strategic... emphasis. Much harder to prove bias that way."

    Mkar''s eyes lit up. "Tell me more about this n of yours."

    I had to hold backughter watching Mkar fall for my deception about "subtle promotion." After thirty minutes, he''dpletely bought into it.

    "This n sounds excellent," he said, practically bouncing with excitement. "Such an innovative approach!"

    My proposed strategy involved modern campaign techniques - demographic targeting, prime-time slot maniption, and subtle visual framing that would actually hurt his party. Color psychology in political coverage, camera angles making his party appear disconnected frommon people, and strategic cement of their segments between unpopr news items. All presented as brilliant marketing, when it would actually diminish voter trust.

    As Mkar left, practically skipping with enthusiasm, I snorted. "No use for a royal bootlicker, unfortunately." Hands sped behind my back, I entered my new home.

    The ce was alive with activity - Firfel, Vivienne, Sylwen, and Old Rocky exploring every corner. Klein''s voice echoed through the halls: "This house is amazing!"

    Watching my actors and employees wander freely, I questioned the wisdom of giving them such open ess. With a resigned shake of my head, I let it be.

    ***

    The next day, I dispatched Sylwen to bring in Valerie ckhand, leader of the <strong>Economic Prosperity Alliance.</strong>

    The thirty-year-old demoness carried herself with quiet dignity, her thin golden-rimmed ssespleting her professional appearance. She greeted me with understated politeness.

    "Please, have a seat," I gestured.

    "Thank you for the invitation," Valerie responded simply.

    As Sylwen brought tea, I got straight to the point. "Here''s what I envision. Hellfire Network seems to favor the Royalist Party on the surface, but our coverage will subtly reveal how out of touch they are with everyday people. At the same time, we''ll present the EPA as the voice of economic reform¡ªthe underdog challenging the entrenched nobility. When viewers see RUP representatives in theirvish mansions while EPA leaders talk about market reforms from factories and trading floors, the contrast will be powerful."

    An hourter, Valerie sat back, clearly impressed by theyers of deception. "Such an intricate n... I never expected this level of strategic thinking from you."

    I took a measured sip of tea. "Entertainment and emotional maniption aren''t so different. Both require understanding what moves people."

    Admiration flickered in her, "As a demoness, I must say that you are the true demon among demons, Mr. Pendragon." She added, "I find it hard to believe why the royal family of morningstar would exile you."

    "Let''s not venture there," I chuckled softly.

    "Of course." Valerie nodded, respecting the boundary.

    "Aren''t you concerned about bacsh?" Valerie asked. "The Royalist Unit Party represents royal and noble interests. Opposing them could be dangerous."

    I smiled confidently. "I''m not worried about them. RUP has controlled this kingdom''s politics long enough. It''s time for change."

    That word - <strong><i>''change''</i></strong> - would be the cornerstone of our strategy. While Hellfire Network appeared to support RUP and criticize EPA, Valerie''s party would champion change, speaking directly to citizens'' frustrations. The more mywork seemed to dismiss them, the morepelling their message would be.

    The beauty of this ny in its flexibility. If EPA won, I''d have a grateful ally in power. If they lost, I''d still have RUP''s goodwill, since they''d believe I''d supported them while attacking EPA.

    Whether this <strong><i>"underdog"</i></strong> strategy would seed remained to be seen. Public sympathy often favored those who fought against established power - but theory and reality didn''t always align.

    One thing was certain though: if EPA won, everything would serve my interests perfectly.

 Chapter 175: First Anime

    <h4>Chapter 175: First Anime</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    With the October election mere months away, <i>Horn Kingdom''s</i> mediandscape shifted into campaign mode.

    <i>Hellfire Network</i> led the charge, initiatingprehensive coverage of thepeting political parties.

    To the untrained eye, Hellfire Network''s bias toward the <i>Royalist Unit Party</i> seemed tant. Their promotion of <i>RUP</i> saturated the airwaves, particrly during peak viewing hours.

    The pattern became especially noticeable during popr <i>telenovs</i>, where RUP campaign messages dominated themercial breaks, their polished advertisements strategically ced to capture thergest possible audience.

    While Hellfire Network maintained a veneer of subtlety in their political coverage, their preferential treatment of RUP became increasingly apparent. Simultaneously, both thework and its print subsidiary, <i>Hellfire Daily</i>,unched what appeared to be an aggressive campaign against the <i>Economic Prosperity Alliance</i>.

    Yet these supposedly negative pieces about <i>EPA</i> carried an unexpected impact. One notable article, titled "EPA Leader Abandons Economic Forum for Factory Visit," detailed how <strong>Valerie ckhand</strong> spent six hours touring a struggling manufacturing district instead of attending a prestigious financial conference.

    The piece described her walking through crowded factory floors, discussing wage reforms with workers, and visiting their families in nearbymunities. Though framed critically, the article painted apelling picture of a leader who prioritized understandingmon citizens overworking with elite power brokers.

    Another "expos¨¦" followed ckhand through Horn Kingdom''s poorest districts, allegedly criticizing her "unbing" involvement in local issues.

    The report showed her listening to street vendors'' concerns about rising permit fees, visiting overcrowded schools, and meeting with small business owners struggling under outdated regtions.

    Each piece meant to discredit EPA instead highlighted the stark contrast between their grassroots approach and RUP''s detachment from ordinary citizens.

    These calcted <strong>"hit pieces"</strong> produced an unexpected effect - television viewers and newspaper readers increasingly gravitated toward EPA.

    The TV viewers and article readers were not "dumb" - they saw right through the obvious scheme where Hellfire Network and other TVworks were clearly "paid" to promote the RUP.

    One evening, a husband and wife sat in their living room when yet another RUPmercial appeared on their screen. The husband mmed his tea cup down in frustration. "Look at this nonsense! The <i>royalist party</i> has ruled this kingdom for decades, and what progress have we made? We''re falling behind <i>Thorn Kingdom</i> in everything!"

    Beyond the political drama, Hellfire Network''stest programming announcement stirred excitement among <i>manga</i> enthusiasts.

    Thework''smercials teased a new show that had fans buzzing with anticipation.

    The source of their excitement? <i>"Dragon Ball"</i> animation wasing to Hellfire Network, with manga readers in <i>Morningstar</i> and <i>Japon</i> particrly thrilled about the adaptation.

    Dragon Ball had carved out impressive poprity in Morningstar and Japon. While the manga sold well across Horn Kingdom and neighboring regions, its following remained unmatched, having captured readers'' imaginations in a way other kingdoms had yet to experience.

    At July''s end, "Dragon Ball" made its debut, iming the coveted noon slot immediately following "Hellfire News."

    The show''s impact surprised everyone. Children who had never encountered the Dragon Ball manga found themselvespletely drawn into the animated world.

    Even more surprising was its effect on adult viewers. Male employees catching lunch at restaurants found their attention pulled away from their meals, unexpectedly captivated by the animation.

    This reaction proved particrly noteworthy because while men asionally enjoyed TV telenovs, they rarely showed the same deep engagement as female viewers. Yet here they were, watching what they''d initially dismissed as children''s entertainment, finding themselves thoroughly absorbed by Dragon Ball''s very first episode.

    ***

    (Apollonia Morningstar POV)

    <strong>"My brother really achieved something incredible..."</strong>

    Watching "Dragon Ball" on TV, I found myselfpletely absorbed in the story. I never thought an <i>"animation"</i> meant for "children" would capture my attention like this.

    From this animation alone, my heart swelled with pride at my brother <strong>Arthur''s</strong>test achievement. I''ve grown to love all his innovations - the telenovs, the football live broadcasts - but this was special.

    Dragon Ball ying on the screen was just another level entirely. I couldn''t take my eyes off it!

    I fell in love with <strong>Goku</strong> right away, though <strong>Bulma</strong> made me frown. Who points such a dangerous weapon at an innocent demon child? Still, I couldn''t help butugh at Goku - so innocent yet somehow so clever about surviving in the wild.

    The full episode left me amazed - the animation style was absolutely incredible!

    Back in <i>Empirica</i>, I''d watched that foreign animation <i>"Mr. Mouse"</i> - but it couldn''t hold a candle to "Dragon Ball."

    Unlike Mr. Mouse''s simple cartoons, Dragon Ball''s characters spoke with real depth. Just this first episode showed me how amazing the story would be.

    "Did you enjoy the world''s first <i>anime</i> Dragon Ball? If you can''t wait for more episodes toe - go and buy the Dragon Ball manga at the manga stores now!"

    A TVmercial suddenly caught my attention, mentioning a "manga store." "Interesting..." I couldn''t help muttering.

    That phrase the narrator used - "world''s first <i>anime</i>" - caught my ear too.

    This term "anime" felt new yet somehow familiar, like an echo of "animation."

    "Is it just another way to say animation?" I wondered.

    Well, one thing was certain - I had to get my hands on that Dragon Ball manga. The story had me hooked.

    Of course, being a princess of Morningstar Kingdom meant some precautions. I reached for my robe - couldn''t have everyone recognizing me at the store.

    ***

    The manga store was already buzzing with excitement when I arrived. As I slipped inside, conversations about "Dragon Ball" filled the air.

    "Did you catch the first episode? Man, it was incredible! Can''t believe we have to wait for the next one!" a <strong>scaled demon</strong> eximed, practically bouncing on his feet.

    "Tell me about it," his friend, a <strong>monkey demon</strong>, agreed eagerly.

    A <strong>fiend demon</strong> nearby ran his ws through his hair in frustration. "If only we could fast-forward time to the next episode!"

    "Right?" The monkey demon''s tail swished in agreement.

    My ears caught other discussions around the store.

    "I''ll admit it - Ipletely overlooked the Dragon Ball manga before," a <strong>wolf demon</strong> was saying. "Saw the TV ads but didn''t give them a second thought. Now after that first episode? I''mpletely hooked!"

    His words hit close to home. I felt a twinge of guilt, remembering how I''d ignored the series myself until seeing the anime.

    "I know what you mean," his friend chimed in. "Part of me wishes I''d known about it sooner, but honestly? Watching that first episode without knowing what wasing made it even more amazing."

    Listening to these demons talk so excitedly about Arthur''stest innovation filled me with pride. Yet that pride came with an ufortable twist - my brother was still an exile, and he''d even cast aside our family name <i>"Morningstar"</i> in favor of <i>"Pendragon."</i>

 Chapter 176: Arthur Uchiha

    <h4>Chapter 176: Arthur Uchiha</h4>

    (Apollonia Morningstar POV)

    I sighed, pushing aside myplicated feelings and reached for the Dragon Ball section. But a tag caught my eye: <i>"Anothertest work of the great exiled prince!"</i>

    Next to Dragon Ball sat a manga titled <i>"Naruto."</i>

    "Hmm..." My curiosity won over, and I picked up the volume, opening to its first page.

    As I flipped through and read, something inside me grew increasingly heavy. The protagonist, <strong>Naruto</strong>, was shunned by everyone around him.

    No friends. Struggling with talent. Mocked by his ssmates.

    It hit too close to home - this was <strong>Arthur''s</strong> story. My eyes began to blur with tears.

    I could picture my brother hunched over his desk, pouring his own experiences into Naruto''s character. The realization made my chest tight with regret, and tears started rolling down my cheeks.

    "Are you okay?"

    I''d been so absorbed in the story, so caught up in seeing Arthur in Naruto''s struggles, that I hadn''t noticed someone speaking to me.

    After a moment, I managed a quick nod. "I''m fine."

    Reading on, I reached the first Chapter''s end - where Naruto refuses to give up and masters the <i>Shadow Clone Jutsu</i>. Then came his touching scenes with <strong>Iruka sensei</strong>, which only made my tears fall faster.

    Without realizing it, I''d drawn a small crowd of concerned onlookers.

    "Are you alright there, youngdy?" The manga store owner approached carefully.

    My hood slipped back, and suddenly the atmosphere changed. Recognition dawned on their faces, followed by immediate fear.

    "Oh no, oh no!" The store owner dropped to his knees. "Please, Princess, forgive me for causing you distress!"

    The panic spreading through the store made meugh despite my tears. "It''s fine," I assured him, wiping my eyes. "You did nothing wrong."

    Relief washed over his face, and I could see others rxing too.

    "The manga just moved me deeply," I exined, then added, "Actually, I''d like several copies of Naruto. I want to share them with my siblings, if that''s possible?"

    "Of course, of course!" The owner nodded so vigorously he resembled a pecking chicken.

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    I had to hand it to Dragon Ball''s first anime episode. Thanks to its sess, Naruto manga sales were finally taking off despite previously falling short of the <i>Creator''s Realms</i> "sess" requirement.

    Something about Dragon Ball''s anime debut had sparked interest in Naruto, pushing its sales high enough to meet the realm''s strict criteria. This meant I could finally ess the "Naruto" world through the Creator''s Realms.

    As I pondered this development, the system caught me off guard with a notification.

    <strong>[Congrattions on airing the first ever anime of this world! You have aplished a "hidden task"!]</strong>

    <strong>[Reward: </strong><strong><i>Soundwave Magic</i></strong><strong>]</strong>

    I raised my eyebrows at the reward. Who would''ve thought bringing anime to this world would unlock a hidden achievement?

    The knowledge of soundwave magic began flooding my mind. Curious, I held up my palm and channeled the new power.

    A visible ripple of air pulsed from my hand, the force hitting me square in the face. The impact felt like getting pped by an invisible pillow, making me stumble back with a surprisedugh.

    "Well, that was unexpected," I muttered, rubbing my nose. Note to self: test new magic powers with more caution next time.

    Testing the new magic, I grew increasingly fascinated. I directed a soundwave at the ornate torch mounted on my office wall, and the me instantly vanished without even a wisp of smoke.

    The soundwave magic could extinguish fire by creating rapid airpression waves that disrupted the me''s oxygen supply and thermal energy. Simple physics, but remarkably effective.

    "I''ll definitely need to train with this magicter," I muttered, already seeing its potential. Besides fire control, soundwaves could potentially disorient opponents, create barriers through air pressure, or even manipte objects at a distance through precise vibrations.

    With that thought filed away, I activated the Creator''s Realms. The familiar white expanse materialized around me.

    Scanning the list of sessful fictional worlds, I spotted <i>"Naruto"</i> among them.

    "Finally..." I let out a relieved sigh. I''d gotten so caught up in other projects that I''d neglected Naruto''s promotion. Thankfully, Dragon Ball''s anime sess had lifted Naruto''s manga sales along with it.

    I selected "Naruto" and tapped <strong>[New World]</strong>. The customization menu appeared, allowing me to craft my avatar.

    I adjusted the age to match Naruto''s in the early series. The higher Creator''s Realms level now let me edit the character''s background story - a new feature I was eager to use.

    After naming my character <i>"Arthur Uchiha,"</i> I began crafting his story. He would be the ss underdog, struggling even more than Naruto with ninja techniques. His poor performance would make him a target for mockery, even more so than Naruto himself. But through this shared experience of being outcasts, Arthur and Naruto would form a genuine friendship.

    Crafting this particr background wasn''t just about befriending Naruto - I had specific ns in mind.

    By establishing my character as another outcast, I''d naturally be included when Naruto attempts to steal the <i>forbidden scroll</i>. He''d likely share his n with a fellow struggling student, giving me the perfect opportunity to learn the Shadow Clone Jutsu alongside him.

    Plus, making my character an <i>Uchiha</i> opened interesting possibilities. A survivor of the massacre alongside <strong>Sasuke</strong>? The potential for awakening the <i>Sharingan</i> was too good to pass up.

    "Arthur Uchiha" - it had a nice ring to it. The story practically wrote itself: another survivor carrying the weight of the n''s tragedy.

    Of course, if the Creator''s Realms didn''t have such strict limits on background editing, I could''ve written myself as an unstoppable powerhouse. But the system only epted reasonable storylines - an underdog Arthur Uchiha was the most I could manage.

    The rules made sense though. Only when a fictional world proved sessful in reality could you create a character with a more impressive background. And even then, any powers gained through manufactured backstory rather than actual effort couldn''t be carried into the real world anyway.

    With a final thought, my consciousness in the Creator''s Realms faded, materializing into the <i>Naruto</i> world.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    A gentle breeze swept through <i>Konoha''s</i> streets under clear blue skies. The vige buzzed with energy as young academy students anticipated their uing graduation ceremony.

    Near the Academy, eager <i>genin</i> candidates clustered together. "Just think - by tomorrow we''ll be real <i>shinobi</i>!" a spiky-haired student grinned, adjusting his goggles.

    "Can''t wait to start actual missions," his friend replied, practicing hand signs.

    Away from the excitement, at the quiet training ground near the creek where sunlight danced on water, two boys stood apart from their ssmates. Naruto and Arthur repeatedly attempted the basic <i>Bunshin no Jutsu</i> (Clone Technique), their failures mounting with each try.

    "Argh!" Naruto copsed onto the grass after another failed attempt. "How am I supposed to graduate if I can''t even make a single clone? Everyone else can do it..."

    Arthur also kept attempting the jutsu, but with no sess. ''I made this character too ipetent,'' he thought ruefully, realizing his own physical strength and <i>ki</i> mastery hadn''t carried over to this body.

    But that made sense - he couldn''t simply import powers gained from Dragon Ball into this world. This was a native body of the Naruto universe after all.

    Interestingly, he could sense something simr to ki floating in the air here. He''d been trying to tap into it, but without any luck. The energy felt familiar yet responded differently than what he was used to. He just sighed and turned to Naruto.

    The vige''s treatment of both boys hadn''t helped their progress. Naruto faced constant scorn as the <i>Kyuubi Jinch¨±riki</i>, while Arthur endured suspicion as an Uchiha survivor. The vige elders had done their work well, spreading whispers about the demon fox''s destruction and the Uchiha n''s alleged treachery.

    Seeing Naruto''s frustration, Arthur spoke up. "Don''t give up, Naruto." He managed a smile. "Maybe we''re not naturals at this, but that doesn''t mean we can''t be <i>Hokage</i>."

    It was a dream they shared - Arthur had written this goal into his character''s story, knowing it would align him with Naruto''s path.

    "You''re right!" Naruto jumped to his feet, fist raised. "I''ll definitely be Hokage! Then everyone will have to acknowledge me!"

    Arthur smirked. "You? Heh, sorry, but I''m going to be the one wearing that hat."

    Naruto snorted, but his grin showed his appreciation for their friendly rivalry. "No way - that position''s mine!"

 Chapter 177: Temptation

    <h4>Chapter 177: Temptation</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    As the <i>Ninja Academy</i> Graduation Exam approached, I spent my days practicing alongside <strong>Naruto</strong>, making an interesting discovery during our training sessions.

    The magical power from my original body had somehow transferred to this character - just not in the way I''d expected. While I couldn''t cast spells from my world directly, my elemental magics remained: <i>Soundwave Magic</i>, <i>Rose Magic</i>, and even my demonic bloodline ability, <i>Sinful Magic</i>.

    It seemed the Naruto universe had adapted these abilities into <i>Kekkei Genkai</i> - bloodline limits. Makes sense, really. Unlike Dragon Ball''s world where magic freely exists, this universe runs on <i>chakra</i> and nature transformations. My magic couldn''t operate under its original rules here.

    Still, being able to use even limited magical power felt reassuring. The Rose Magic worked, though it now drew on chakra rather than magical mana.

    The basic <i>Clone Jutsu</i> remained a challenge though. My chakra control was absolutely abysmal. Converting my magical energy reserves into chakra through the background story edit probably wasn''t my smartest move. Sure, I had massive chakra reserves like Naruto, but controlling it was like trying to fill a teacup with a waterfall.

    Not that it mattered much for my immediate ns. Learning the <i>Shadow Clone Jutsu</i> shouldn''t be too difficult - that technique relies more on raw power than precise control. With myrge chakra pool, I should manage at least four solid clones. After that, I can work on magic implementation.

    If Naruto could master Shadow Clones with his enormous chakra reserves despite his terrible control, I should manage too.

    I just had to be careful though. The Shadow Clone Jutsu wasbeled forbidden for good reason - it divides the user''s chakra evenly among the clones. Only someone with massive reserves like Naruto could use it safely.

    ***

    The ssroom buzzed with nervous energy on exam day. <strong>Iruka</strong> stood at the front, while my ssmates settled into their seats.

    I could feel <strong>Sasuke''s</strong> cold stare as I passed his desk. "Pathetic excuse for an <i>Uchiha</i>," he muttered, loud enough for nearby students to hear. "Can''t even perform basic <i>jutsu</i>. You bring shame to our n''s name."

    <i>Great. Ipletely forgot to edit my rtionship with Sasuke in the background story. Seems the system filled in the nks itself - making me the disappointing cousin he looks down on.</i> I sighed, noting how the other students either ignored me or shared Sasuke''s disdain.

    "Naruto!" Iruka''s voice cut through the ssroom. "How many times must we go through this? You''ve failed the graduation exam three times already because you don''t take it seriously-"

    Naruto responded with his typical pout, turning away from Iruka - which promptly got him tied up and subjected to a lengthy lecture.

    The ss''s snickers at Naruto''s predicament were interrupted by <strong>Kiba''s</strong> sharp voice. "Hey, Iruka-sensei! Why''s Naruto the only one getting punished? Arthur''s failed just as many times!"

    I shot Kiba a dark look. ''You mangy mutt...''

    Iruka turned to me as if suddenly remembering. "Ah, right." His eyes narrowed. "Get over here. You and Naruto are notorious for your childish pranks and painting graffiti all over the vige monuments."

    I sighed heavily. Though I had no memory of actually pulling pranks with Naruto, it made sense that my character would be caught up in his mischief as his friend.

    Naruto''s snickering didn''t help as I grudgingly sat beside him for Iruka''s lecture before the <i>transformation jutsu</i> test began.

    <strong>Sakura</strong> went first, executing the technique perfectly while stealing nces at Sasuke. Then came Sasuke''s wless transformation, followed by a parade of ssmates. Finally, it was my turn.

    All eyes fixed on me as I formed the hand signs - Tiger, Boar, Dog. Channeling chakra through my body, I felt the familiar surge of energy as smoke swirled around me.

    The sudden collective gasp from my ssmates caught me off guard.

    "Hmm?" Confused by their reaction, I nced down and realized I''d transformed into my real-world appearance -plete with tailored suit, curved horns, and refined features. Though not drastically different from my Uchiha form, the demonic elements stood out starkly.

    I quickly dispelled the jutsu as Iruka spoke up. "Well, I''m surprised you managed to perform a basic jutsu sessfully for once. However, you were supposed to transform into me, so..."

    My second attempt proved better, sessfully matching Iruka''s appearance down to his <i>chunin</i> vest.

    Then came Naruto''s turn. He pulled his signature move - transforming into his <i>"Sexy Jutsu"</i> form, sending Iruka reeling backward with a nosebleed.

    The clone portion of the exam followed, and everyone breezed through it... except Naruto and me. My attempt was particrly pathetic - even worse than Naruto''s pale, sickly clone. My version looked like a half-formed shadow that copsed instantly.

    Sasuke''s piercing re spoke volumes about his thoughts on my performance. Deadst in the ss, even below Naruto - a new low for the Uchiha name.

    After the exam, Naruto and I trudged out together. His usual energy was gone, reced by quiet disappointment over his failed clone jutsu.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    A week had passed since Arthur entered the <i>Naruto</i> world. Despite endless practice sessions with Naruto, both boys faced another bitter failure at the final graduation test under Iruka and <strong>Mizuki''s</strong> watchful eyes. Theirst hope of passing slipped away with yet another failed clone jutsu.

    The defeat hit Naruto particrly hard. Now he sat on the wooden swing beneath the old academy tree, while Arthur stood beside him, both watching their sessful ssmates celebrate.

    Arthur adjusted his orange-tinted goggles, simr to the ones worn by the legendary <strong>Obito Uchiha</strong>. Both boys observed silently as their peers proudly disyed their new forehead protectors.

    "Did you see them fail again?" a mother whispered nearby, pulling her daughter closer.

    "Good. Can you imagine if they became <i>ninja</i>? That demon fox boy and that cursed Uchiha..." another parent muttered.

    "I heard the Uchiha boy is even worse than the fox child. They say he brings shame to his entire n."

    "Shh! We''re not supposed to talk about either of them..."

    The parents'' whispers carried clearly to the two boys, though they pretended not to hear.

    Arthur sighed, cing a reassuring hand on Naruto''s shoulder. Seeing his friend''s usual energypletely drained hurt more than his own failure. "Hey, don''t lose hope now. We still have a chance."

    Naruto remained uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes fixed on the ground.

    "Trust me," Arthur continued, conviction in his voice. "This world won''t abandon those who keep trying and stay hopeful. We''ll be ninja - I promise you that."

    Nearby, the <strong>Third Hokage</strong> and Iruka observed the two outcasts. The old leader''s face grew stern as he watched them.

    "Iruka..." The Third Hokage''s voice carried a weight of concern. "We need to talkter..."

    ***

    That afternoon, Naruto and Arthur sat together on the academy rooftop, legs dangling over the edge. The usual energy that defined Naruto was nowhere to be seen as he mechanically munched on chips, barely tasting them. Arthur watched his friend carefully, noting how the typically talkative ninja-hopeful had grown so quiet.

    When Naruto did speak, his words came out bitter and hollow. "Iruka-sensei... he didn''t even give us a chance. He knows how hard we''ve been trying..."

    Arthur remained silent, his attention split betweenforting his friend and anticipating Mizuki''s arrival.

    Right on cue, their instructor appeared, his footsteps deliberately heavy enough to announce his presence. "I thought I''d find you two up here."

    Mizuki''s voice dripped with false sympathy as he exined how they could still earn their headbands. "There''s another way to be ninja..."

    Both boys perked up instantly, Arthur carefully matching Naruto''s genuine enthusiasm with well-practiced eagerness. As Mizukiid out his n to steal the <i>scroll of seals</i>, they leaned in closer, appearingpletely drawn into his scheme.

    After the boys rushed off to prepare, Mizuki''s lips curled into a calcting smile. "I hadn''t nned on the Uchiha being involved," he muttered to himself, "but this works even better. That failure of an Uchiha might actually make himself useful - he''ll help Naruto get that scroll for me." His quietughter held a dark edge.

    "Can you believe it, Arthur?" Naruto''s excitement bubbled over as they ran. "All we have to do is get that scroll from the old man''s office, and we''ll be real ninja!"

    "Right," Arthur agreed, matching Naruto''s pace. "We''ll have to be careful though - stealing such an important scroll won''t be easy!"

    Internally, Arthur smiled. He knew full well that the Third Hokage would deliberately allow Naruto to take the scroll. Sometimes the best way to expose a traitor was to let their n y out - with a few careful adjustments.

 Chapter 178: Graduation

    <h4>Chapter 178: Graduation</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Under cover of darkness, Arthur and <strong>Naruto</strong> crept through the <i>Hokage Residence</i>. Despite his reputation for brazen pranks, Naruto''s hands trembled slightly. Though he often acted disrespectful toward the old man, he held deep reverence for the <strong>Hokage''s</strong> power and position he dreamed of inheriting one day.

    His heart pounded as they searched for the scroll - stealing from the Hokage himself was far different from painting monuments or disrupting sses.

    Arthur maintained a fa?ade of nervousness, knowing the <strong>Third Hokage</strong> might be watching. He couldn''t risk appearing toofortable during what should be a terrifying infiltration.

    "See anything?" Naruto whispered, rifling through shelves.

    "Keep looking," Arthur whispered back, both boys careful to keep their voices below even a <i>shinobi''s</i> hearing.

    "Where is it?" Naruto muttered, growing frustrated as he searched.

    Then Arthur spotted it - the <i>Scroll of Seals</i> sitting almost conspicuously on a stand near the window. Whether the Third Hokage was truly this careless or had deliberately made it essible, Arthur couldn''t tell. "Found it," he hissed.

    Naruto''s eyes lit up as they approached the massive scroll. But their examination was cut short by approaching footsteps and voices.

    "We need to move. Now." Arthur grabbed Naruto''s arm. They slipped through the window just as the <i>ANBU ck Ops</i> burst into the office, their porcin masks gleaming in the moonlight.

    "The demon fox brat!" one ANBU called out, catching sight of them.

    "There''s someone with him," another ANBU noted. "It''s that disgrace to the <i>Uchiha</i>!"

    Their conversation was interrupted by a third ANBU''s shout. "The Scroll of Seals is gone!"

    "What?!" The ANBU captain''s voice carried barely contained panic. "Alert Lord Third immediately! We can''t let those two escape with the vige''s forbidden techniques!"

    ***

    "We actually pulled it off!" Naruto eximed mid-leap, clutching the Scroll of Seals tight against his chest.

    "Careful with that scroll, Naruto!" Arthur called out, keeping pace. "We still need to learn from it!"

    Naruto''s grin sobered as he nodded, adjusting his grip.

    "Hold up¡ªwe''ve gotpany!" Arthur''s eyes caught shadowy figures darting between trees behind them.

    "Quick, over here!" Naruto pulled them into a dense thicket, suppressing their <i>chakra</i> signatures as ANBU rushed past their hiding spot.

    "This is getting messy," Arthur said, letting worry color his voice. "Once the Third realizes what''s happened, all of <i>Konoha</i> will be searching for us."

    "Then we better hurry and learn something before they catch us!" Naruto''s eyes sparkled with determination.

    "The training ground in the eastern forest," Arthur suggested. "No one goes there at night."

    While they raced through the moonlit forest, the Third Hokage mobilized every avable <i>shinobi</i> for the search.

    <strong>Iruka''s</strong> heart raced as he bounded across rooftops. <i>''Naruto... Arthur... Please don''t do anything you can''t take back!''</i>

    Deep in the forest, Arthur spotted a figure moving parallel to them. Though the chakra signature seemed like Iruka''s, Arthur knew better. He leaned close to Naruto, whispering, "That''s not really Iruka-sensei following us."

    Naruto''s eyes widened, but he gave an understanding nod.

    "Hand over the scroll, you two!" The fake Iruka called out.

    "No way!" Naruto shouted back, clutching the scroll tighter.

    Arthur seized his chance, channeling chakra through his body in a way that felt both familiar yet strange. The resulting <i>Soundwave jutsu</i>¡ªhis Soundwave magic adapted to this world''s rules¡ªburst forth in an invisible wave.

    <strong>Mizuki</strong> stumbled, clutching his ears in pain. "What the¡ªwhat was that?!"

    His momentary disorientation gave them the opening they needed. As they disappeared deeper into the forest, Mizuki''s <i>transformation jutsu</i> flickered, revealing his true face twisted in fury. "Damn those brats!"

    ***

    At their training ground, Arthur and Naruto eagerly unrolled the Scroll of Seals, scanning past <i>Multiple Shadow Shuriken Jutsu</i> and other forbidden techniques until they found it - the <i>Shadow Clone Jutsu.</i>

    "Look at this!" Arthur''s eyes widened. "This technique was created by the <strong>Second Hokage</strong>, <strong>Tobirama Senju</strong> himself! No wonder it''s in the forbidden scroll!"

    Naruto swallowed hard, impressed by the jutsu''s legacy.

    "We can fanboyter," Arthur urged. "Let''s learn this before we''re caught!"

    They dove into studying the hand signs and chakra molding instructions. Arthur''s mind quickly absorbed the technique''s fundamentals.

    Suddenly, Iruka burst into the clearing. "Naruto! Arthur! That scroll contains dangerous forbidden jutsu. Hand it over immediately!"

    "Don''t!" Another Iruka appeared, breathing heavily. His eyes locked onto his duplicate with concern.

    Naruto''s eyes darted between the two Irukas. Though he''d initially doubted Arthur''s warning, seeing two of his sensei proved his friend right. Still, he couldn''t tell which was genuine.

    The two Irukas began arguing, each demanding Naruto give them the scroll. Finally, Mizuki dropped his transformation, his true face twisted with malice as he revealed Naruto''s secret - how he carried the <i><strong>Nine-Tailed Fox</strong></i> that had devastated their vige.

    Seeing Naruto''s world shatter, Mizuki seized his chance. He grabbed the massive <i>Fuma Shuriken</i> from his back, hurling it at the stunned boy.

    Arthur watched as Iruka threw himself between Naruto and the weapon, the giant shuriken embedding in his back. Through tears and pain, Iruka poured out his heart - how he recognized Naruto''s pain, his loneliness, his struggle for acknowledgment.

    Overwhelmed, Naruto fled into the forest with Arthur. Iruka, despite his injury, managed to buy them time, engaging Mizuki inbat.

    Hidden nearby, they watched their teacher gradually losing ground to Mizuki''s attacks.

    "Time to use that jutsu, Naruto..." Arthur whispered. The words snapped Naruto back to focus, and he nodded firmly.

    They burst from cover together. "Finally showing yourselves?" Mizuki sneered.

    His confidence shattered as both boys formed the hand sign. While Arthur managed to create five solid clones, Naruto''s chakra exploded outward, filling the entire clearing with hundreds of shadow clones.

    "This... This is impossible!!!" Mizuki stumbled backward, eyes wide with disbelief as hundreds of Narutos filled every branch and clearing.

    The original Naruto''s grin turned feral. "What''s wrong, Mizuki-sensei? Weren''t you going to kill me?"

    "Yeah, weren''t you talking big just now?" his clones taunted in unison.

    "Come on, we''ll show you what a demon fox can really do!"

    Arthur stood with his five clones, watching the sea of orange jumpsuits surrounding them. One of his clones turned to the original. "Should we even bother joining in?"

    The other Arthur clones exchanged nces while their creator remained silent.

    Arthur''s lips curved into a wry smile. ''Well, I definitely overestimated my chakra capacity,'' he thought, watching Naruto''s overwhelming disy.

    The air filled with the sound of fists meeting flesh as Naruto''s clones descended upon Mizuki. Arthur''s clones joined the fray, adding their own punches and kicks to the mix, though they were barely noticeable in the orange tsunami.

    Once Mizukiy thoroughly beaten, Arthur and Naruto faced Iruka, who sat propped against a tree, pride shining through his pain.

    "Close your eyes, both of you," Iruka said softly, reaching into his vest. When they opened them again, they found <i>Konoha</i> forehead protectors tied securely in ce.

    "Congrattions," Iruka''s voice cracked with emotion. "You''ve both shown the true spirit of what it means to be a ninja. I''m proud to call you my students... and fellow <i>shinobi</i> of the <i>Hidden Leaf</i>."

    ***

    (Arthur POV)

    Back in my office, I let out a relieved sigh, fingers tracing the leaf symbol on my newly acquired Konoha headband. A soft chuckle escaped my lips.

    "Mission aplished - I got the jutsu I wanted," I murmured to myself. "Yet somehow... I didn''t expect to feel this attached to that world."

    Memories flooded back - Naruto''s unwavering determination, the peaceful buzz of vige life in Konoha, even the smell of <strong>Ichiraku''s</strong> ramen wafting through the streets. What started as a simple technique-gathering mission had grown into something more.

    I''d nned to leave after mastering the <i>Shadow Clone Jutsu</i>, but now... the thought of returning to learn more techniques, to experience more of that world, felt oddly appealing.

    With another sigh, I locked my office door and formed the hand signs. This would be different - I had only traces of chakra here in the real world, brought back like echoes from the Naruto universe. I''d have topensate by blending it with my magical power.

    "<i>Shadow Clone Jutsu!</i>"

    Ten clones materialized, but something was off. Their forms glowed with an ethereal light, edges wavering like heat shimmer. The fusion of magic and chakra created something unstable, beautiful yet clearly imperfect.

    Testing their durability, I watched as they dissolved faster than pure chakra clones would. The mixing of two different energy sources had decreased their stability.

    Still, I could see the potential. With practice, I could refine this hybrid technique. The chakra might be limited, but thanks to the <i>Devourer Ring''s</i> vast magical reserves, I had plenty of power to experiment with.

    "Time to master this blend," I muttered, already nning my training regime. After all,bining two different power systems might lead to possibilities neither world had imagined.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 179: Clone Training

    <h4>Chapter 179: Clone Training</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    While managing my studio projects, I devoted countless hours to perfecting my <i>Shadow Clone Jutsu</i>. Day by day, my grasp over the blend of magic and chakra grew stronger.

    The challenge was considerable, but I finally achieved precise control over both energies. The breakthrough came when I discovered how to create shadow clones using predominantly magical power, requiring only minimal <i>chakra</i> input.

    Two weeks of experimentation led to the perfect fusion - the right ratio, the precise control. My clones no longer depended heavily on chakra, making them viable in this world.

    These enhanced clones couldst up to two days - a remarkable achievement. They even retained the ability to cast magic, though spell usage drastically reduced their lifespan.

    The <i>Devourer Ring</i> amplified my capabilities enormously. While I could theoretically produce thousands of clones, the magic had to be distributed carefully. Clones with 10,000 units of magical <i>mana</i> proved the most stable and efficient.

    At maximum capacity, using all the Devourer Ring''s reserves, I could maintain about 1,000 clones. But practicality demanded restraint.

    I settled on a hundred clones, dividing them between multiple manga projects - <i>"One Piece,"</i> <i>"Dragon Ball,"</i> <i>"Naruto,"</i> and <i>"Hunter X Hunter."</i>

    Even this felt excessive. To avoid raising suspicions about impossibly rapid manga production, I needed to diversify. So I assigned teams to westernics as well - <i>"Superman,"</i> <i>"Batman,"</i> and <i>"Spider-Man."</i>

    This split focus made the manga release schedule appear more reasonable. After all, multiple titles releasing simultaneously drew less attention than a single series updating at superhuman speed.

    But manga was just the beginning. My remaining clones had another mission: elerating <i>anime</i> production, with ns to venture into cartoon creation as well.

    ***

    The <i>Hellfire Electronics</i> factory buzzed with focused energy as I entered alongside the manager.

    Massive assembly lines churned out bulky monitors with thick ss screens and chunky keyboards that clicked with satisfying mechanical precision.

    Theputers themselves, running <i>Hellfire OS 1</i>, represented our answer to personalputing - their beige cases housing the future of technology.

    The engineers I''d personally trained inputer assembly worked meticulously over circuit boards, applying the knowledge I''d shared with them. These bright minds, originally top graduates from <i>Horn University''s</i> engineering programs, had adapted quickly to this revolutionary technology.

    Factory workers moved with practiced efficiency, their hands flying overponents as they assembled machine after machine. Even my presence as CEO didn''t break their concentration - if anything, they seemed to work with greater intensity.

    "Production''s been steady for weeks now, boss," <strong>Norman</strong> reported, his half-demon heritage visible in the slight points of his ears. "We''ve hit 2,000 units manufactured."

    The number satisfied me. As our main production facility, this factory''s output dwarfed our smaller operations. While other nts struggled to produce even a hundred units, this one proved my heavy investment worthwhile.

    After discussing production details with Norman for some time, I pulled out a folded paper. "I need about hundreds ofputers delivered to this location." I handed him the address.

    Norman''s eyes widened as he read the paper, his pointed ears twitching slightly - a habit I''d noticed when something caught him off guard. His mouth opened briefly as if to ask a question, but quickly closed again. Being a half-demon, he was naturally curious, but his professional instincts won out. "It will be done," he managed, trying to hide his evident confusion at such arge single order.

    I smiled, giving his shoulder a pat as I turned to leave. What Norman didn''t know was that theseputers were headed to my newly acquired warehouse - officiallybeled <i>"Hellfire Animation Studio"</i> under the <i>Hellfire Anime Studio</i> banner.

    There, my shadow clones worked tirelessly, some hunched over manga pages andic panels, while others upied therger space dedicated to animation production.

    Soon, I''d create hundreds more clones for the animation section. After all, bringing anime to this world required an army - even if that army consisted entirely of myself.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    <i>Dragon Ball''s</i> debut sent shockwaves through the previously quiet animation industry.

    Every media outlet, from televisionworks to newspapers, scrambled to cover this new phenomenon called <i>"anime."</i> But nowhere did it spark more heated discussion than in the <i>United States of Empirica</i>, where media giants turned the coverage into a racial controversy.

    <i>Angels Daily''s</i> provocative headline zed across newsstands: "New entertainment form by ''demon'' <strong>Arthur Pendragon</strong> gains foothold in USE and human realms. Threat looms over human entertainment as <i>Hellfire</i> challenges <i>Mr. Mouse''s</i> animation dominance."

    The paper''s bias showed clearly in its careful cement of "demon" before Arthur''s name, implying that entertainment from demon hands somehow threatened human cultural purity.

    <i>"Good Morning Empirica,"</i> a leading news program, reported with barely concealed rm: "Mr. Mouse TV Network ratings plummet during Dragon Ball airtime, ording to <i>Pendragon Rating System</i>."

    Emergingworks amplified these concerns, framing anime not just as new entertainment, but as an invasion of traditional human media space.

    The anxiety spread beyond human territories. Elven entertainment moguls watched their carefully crafted nature documentaries lose viewers. Dwarven studios saw their technical showcases overshadowed by Arthur''s innovations.

    What truly rattled them wasn''t just Dragon Ball''s sess, but Arthur''s seemingly endless supply of revolutionary ideas. His "movie trailers" alone had transformed film promotion, helping <i>Harry Potter</i> rake in hundreds of millions - a feat that left traditional studios both envious and terrified.

    To them, Arthur Pendragon represented more thanpetition; he was reshaping entertainment itself, breaking down centuries-old barriers between races through shared media experiences. And that, perhaps, frightened them most of all.

    ***

    <i>Mr. Mouse Entertainment</i>, reeling from Dragon Ball''s impact on their viewership, mounted their counter-offensive. The channel began flooding their airwaves with cartoons, dusting off their extensive archive of ssic animations while rushing new productions to screen.

    Fresh titles like <i>"Pussy Cat and the Dogs"</i> joined their lineup, helping recover some lost viewers. Yet whenever Dragon Ball''s time slot arrived, Mr. Mouse''s ratings still plummeted.

    Their saving grace? Dragon Ball onlymanded thirty minutes of daily programming,mercials included, on Hellfire Network.

    <strong>Walter Mouse</strong>, founder and CEO of Mouse Entertainment, finally broke his silence in a heated interview. "What''s happening to us, Empiricans?" he demanded, his whiskers practically bristling with indignation. "Why are we embracing a demon''s work - a tant copy of our animation innovation? They''ve even had the audacity to rename our ''cartoons'' as ''anime''! We should be protesting this cultural theft, not celebrating it!"

    His thinly veiled attack on Hellfire struck a chord with many Empiricans. While Dragon Ball maintained its dedicated fanbase, a growing faction sided with Mouse Entertainment. The idea that a demonpany would not only imitate their animation style but rebrand it with a new term felt like a slight against Empirican cultural heritage.

    The controversy sparked heated debates across USE. Many Empiricans who had initially embraced Dragon Ball now questioned their support, viewing the term "anime" as demons disrespecting their pioneering work in animation - or as they insisted on calling it, cartoons.

    Tension erupted outside Hellfire Network''s <i>Angel City</i> branch as protesters packed the streets. Their leader, red-faced with righteous anger, thrust his fist into the air. "Animation is a human Empirican invention!" he roared through his megaphone. "You demons think you can steal our culture by pping the word ''anime'' on it? This is our heritage!"

    The crowd behind him swelled with answering shouts, waving signs condemning Hellfire''s "cultural theft."

    From his office, <strong>Marcus Shadoww</strong>, the feline demon serving as Hellfire''s USE president, watched through a crack in the protective blinds. His tailshed anxiously. "This is getting out of hand. Boss Arthur needs to know about this immediately."

    The other executives huddled around conference tables, monitoring the situation through various windows, when a fiend demon burst through the door, smoke curling behind him. "Sir! They''ve started throwing fireballs at the building! We need to contact the fire brigade!"

    The president and executives exchanged horrified nces before rushing for the exits, the smell of smoke growing stronger with each passing second.

 Chapter 180: Cartoons

    <h4>Chapter 180: Cartoons</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The TV screen zed with footage of our burning <i>Angel City</i> branch, reporters swarming like vultures around the scene.

    As I watched, rage bubbled through my veins. My eyes burned hot, and suddenly my vision sharpened to crystal rity. Every detail on the screen stood out with uncanny precision, my senses heightening to an almost painful degree. The sensation passed quickly, leaving me puzzled but too angry to dwell on it.

    "What led to today''s events?" A reporter thrust her microphone at our USE president, <strong>Marcus</strong>. His usual sleek feline appearance was gone, reced by a disheveled figure with singed suit and soot-stained fur.

    His eyes glistened as he fought to maintainposure. "This... this is just a misunderstanding between demons and humans! We can resolve this!" His voice cracked with exhaustion.

    <i>Sigh</i>

    I clicked off the TV, disgust rising in my throat.

    "And here I thought <i>Empiricans</i> in this world had more sense than my previous life." I shook my head, bitter disappointment settling in my chest. The way <strong>Walter Mouse</strong> had manipted them so easily, turning ''<i>anime</i>'' into some kind of cultural battleground - it was both pathetic and infuriating.

    They''d actually resorted to arson against mypany!

    Though something felt off - perhaps this fire wasn''t just angry protesters. Someone might be pulling strings behind the scenes. But regardless of who lit the match, the damage was done.

    My fingers drummed against the desk as I plotted my response. No, I wouldn''t go flying off to Empirica to pummel Walter Mouse and his mob like I did with <strong>Caleb</strong>. This required a more... elegant revenge.

    I''d crush <i>Mouse Entertainment</i> the same way I''d built my empire - through pure entertainment dominance. Walter Mouse wanted to cry about demons ''stealing'' animation? Fine.

    I''d flood Empirica with their precious "<i>cartoons</i>" first - the ones from my previous life. Then I''d release a wave of new anime series. The contrast would be impossible to ignore. The whole world would see that "cartoon" and "anime" were distinct art forms, not some demon plot to steal human culture.

    Let them learn the difference through entertainment itself.

    ***

    In the massive warehouse, my operation hummed with focused energy. A hundred clones filled theics and manga section, while therger area hosted an army of 800 clones - some hunched over drawing tables with precise brush strokes, others manipting animation frames on theirputer screens.

    Creating 800 clones wasn''t my original n, but Walter Mouse and those gullible Empiricans had forced my hand. Speed was now essential.

    My clones worked tirelessly on cartoons that had defined entertainment in my previous life. <i>"Bugs Bunny"</i> with his wisecracks, the pstick chaos of <i>"Tom & Jerry,"</i> the spinach-powered adventures of <i>"Popeye,"</i> and the silentedy of <i>"The Pink Panther Show."</i>

    The voice acting situation actually worked in our favor. These ssic cartoons relied more on visualedy and simple dialogue - perfect for a world still developing its voice talent pool.

    I could handle the basic male voices: <strong>Bugs Bunny''s</strong> wisecracks, <strong>Tom''s</strong> asional outbursts, <strong>Popeye''s</strong> mumblings. The <strong>Pink Panther</strong> just needed some grunts and snorts - easy enough for a clone to manage.

    The anime projects demanded more patience. <i>"Pok¨¦mon,"</i> <i>"Naruto,"</i> and <i>"Sailor Moon"</i> sat in various stages of development, awaiting voice actors from our recent auditions. Theirplexity meant a longer production time, but that would only help highlight the distinction between mediums.

    Looking over the bustling warehouse, I smiled grimly. Soon, everyone would understand the fundamental difference between cartoons and anime. Those who''d used me of "stealing" animation were about to get an education in entertainment evolution.

    "Keep the pace steady," I called out to my clones. "We''re not just making shows - we''re making a point."

    "Oh, look who''s acting all high and mighty! Why don''t you pick up a pencil and help us draw?" One clone shot back, waving his pencil usingly.

    "Hey, focus on the goal here!" Another clone jumped in, adjusting his sses. "We need to show those thick-headed Empiricans and everyone else the clear difference between anime and cartoons!"

    "Why can''t we just do a press conference and exin everything?" A third clone groaned, slumping over his desk. "All this drawing is killing me!"

    As the debate heated up, I tried to restore order. "Come on, everyone! Give it your all, and I''ll reward you with cookies!"

    My clones responded with collective snorts before returning to their work, muttering under their breath.

    <i>''And this is why clone management is such a headache.''</i> I sighed internally. Each clone developed their own personality and opinions - great for creative work, terrible for workce harmony.

    Still, I''d take the asional attitude problem in exchange for this level of productivity.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The controversy over demons "stealing" and "rebranding" animation continued to dominate headlines. What started in human territories now spread like wildfire through elven forests and dwarven mountains.

    Media outlets hounded <strong>Arthur</strong> for a response, but he remainedrgely silent, offering only cryptic statements: "I will address this matter in a few weeks. Patience, everyone."

    His vague response sparked widespread spection. <i>The Evening Star</i> ran the headline: <i>"Arthur Pendragon Dys Response - Strategic Silence or Admission of Guilt?"</i>

    Critics seized on his apparent reluctance to speak, interpreting it as weakness. But those who knew Arthur''s pattern of calcted moves wondered - what was the demon prince nning this time?

    Two weeks of controversy had begun to quiet, though plenty still condemned Arthur for supposedly stealing and rebranding cartoons as anime. His continued silence only fueled his critics.

    Walter Mouse and his fellow media moguls celebrated what they saw as victory, watching <i>Hellfire Network''s</i> ratings slip with smug satisfaction.

    Then came August 26, 1273 - Arthur dropped his bombshell announcement. Within a week, Hellfire Network would premiere both cartoons and anime, including a new series called <i>"Naruto."</i>

    The announcement sparked fierce debate among industry insiders. On street corners, confused citizens voiced their doubts: "I don''t understand - I thought cartoons and anime were the same thing? Why is Arthur suddenly using both terms?"

    The answer came on September 1, 1273. As early morning sunlight crept over Empirica, Hellfire Network aired its first episode of <i>"Tom & Jerry."</i>

    The screen exploded with pure cartoon chaos - a cat and mouse locked in an endless chase through a house, their bodies defying physics with every crash and tumble. Tom''s expressions stretched to impossible lengths, while Jerry''s clever escapes drew delighted gasps from viewers.

    In his mansion''s viewing room, Walter Mouse sat stiffly on his leather armchair, remote clutched tight as he watched hispetitor''s creation. His family gathered around, drawn by themotion on screen.

    "Dad, look! Look!" <strong>Walter Jr.</strong> doubled overughing as Tom ttened like a pancake after another failed chase. "The cat''s face!"

    Walter barely heard his son''s joy. His eyes were fixed on the screen, watching something that shouldn''t exist - a cartoon that rivaled, maybe even surpassed, his studio''s best work.

    Earlier, he''d dismissed Hellfire''s cartoon venture with a wave of his hand. "They''ll fail," he''d told his board confidently. But now, watching his own family captivated by this...

    He felt sick to his stomach. He''d been wrong. Terribly wrong.

    ***

    September 1, 1273 carved itself into entertainment history as Hellfire Network revolutionized programming across time zones. In <i>Empirica</i>, the morning hours filled with cartoons, while the pre-news noon slot debuted <i>"Naruto."</i>

    Before "Naruto" began, thework announcer made a deliberate point: "And now, Hellfire Network presents our second anime series..."

    The distinction between cartoons and anime had puzzled Empiricans until that day. But as they witnessed "Naruto" following their morning of pstick cartoons, thenpared it to <i>"Dragon Ball,"</i> the differences became stark and undeniable.

    Across <i>USE</i>, many viewers finally understood - these weren''t simply different terms for the same thing. The storytelling styles, art, and themes stood distinctly apart.

    While the western continent enjoyed their morning entertainment revolution, the <i>Anatolia</i> region experienced the same programming as their evening schedule, thanks to the time difference. What was breakfast entertainment in Empirica became dinner viewing in the East.

    This simultaneous worldwide broadcast of both cartoons and anime on September 1 marked a turning point in global entertainment.

    Yearster, USE would immortalize this date as <i>"Fantastic Friday Morning"</i> - celebrating the day cartoon chaos first brightened their mornings. Meanwhile, the East fondly remembered it as <i>"Magical Friday Night"</i> - when both western humor and eastern storytelling found their ce in their evening hours.

 Chapter 181: Always winning

    <h4>Chapter 181: Always winning</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    <i>Hellfire Network''s</i> cartoons sent shockwaves through both <i>Empirica</i> and <i>Anatolia</i>. Even the staunchest Empirican critics had to acknowledge that these cartoons outshone <i>Mr. Mouse''s</i> offerings. Children couldn''t get enough, while adults finally grasped the clear distinction between cartoons and anime.

    In a cramped college dorm room, the warm glow of a TV illuminated posters of bands and movies covering the walls. Empty pizza boxes and energy drink cans littered the coffee table as three students sprawled across worn furniture, their attention fixed on the screen.

    "You guys catch Hellfire''s cartoons?" <strong>Dutch</strong> asked, leaning back in his squeaky desk chair. "Got to admit, they''re actually hrious. Nothing dull about them."

    His dormmates nodded from their spots on the threadbare couch. "Way better than Mr. Mouse''s stuff," one agreed, reaching for his soda.

    "The cartoons are great, but <i>Naruto</i> and <i>Dragon Ball</i> is better," the other added, eyes still glued to the screen.

    Dutch spun in his chair thoughtfully. "Yeah, now I get why they use different terms. Anime''s got all theseplex storylines and character development. Cartoons are just pure entertainment."

    "Exactly!" His friend gestured with a half-eaten slice of pizza. "Comparing them is likeparing apples and oranges. They''repletely different styles."

    "Let''s be real," the third student chuckled, "<strong>Walter Mouse</strong> is just salty because anime''s stealing his thunder."

    This sentiment echoed across Empirica. While a few die-hards still used <strong>Arthur</strong> of cultural theft, public opinion had shifted dramatically in his favor.

    The fallout hit <i>Mouse Entertainment</i> hard. Their stock price tumbled several points as investors reacted to Walter''s self-destructive crusade. Behind closed boardroom doors, directors whispered about recement, their patience with the founder''s jealousy-driven vendetta wearing thin.

    Facing potential recement, Walter desperately tried cating his board of directors, making grand promises aboutpeting with Hellfire''s cartoons.

    Then <i>Hellfire</i> dropped another bombshell - the announcement of two new dedicated channels. <i>"Cartoon Network"</i> wouldunch within weeks, promising round-the-clock cartoon entertainment. Its sister channel, <i>"Anime Network,"</i> would follow monthster.

    The mere announcement sent tremors through the entertainment industry. Mr. Mouse''s monopoly on animation was about to face its first real challenger - a entirework dedicated to cartoons.

    The only silver lining forpetingworks was that these channels would require subscription to the new "<i>cable service</i>," a joint venture between Hellfire and <i>Waves Corporation</i>.

    Still, the news devastated Mr. Mouse''s stock prices. Investors could already envision viewers flocking to a dedicated cartoon channel, and the board finally lost patience. Walter Mouse was voted out of his ownpany.

    Headlines zed across media outlets: <i>"Mouse Entertainment Ousts Founder: Walter Mouse Loses Control of His Legacy"</i>

    <i>"Walter Mouse holds Arthur Pendragon responsible for all his troubles. He filed awsuit against Hellfire Inc. in court, but his case was swiftly rejected, leaving him with no legal recourse."</i>

    The public watched this drama unfold with a mix of fascination and pity, many seeing it as a cautionary tale of pride before the fall.

    ***

    Arthur leaned back in his office chair, satisfaction warming his chest as he read about Walter''s removal. His revenge had yed out perfectly - perhaps even better than he''d nned.

    The cable requirement for <i>Cartoon Network</i> hadn''t been his first choice, but the system mission demanded it. Still, he''d achieved his primary goal. Whether viewers essed it through cable or free broadcast, he''d thoroughly defeated his opponent.

    "Sometimes the best revenge," he mused, setting down the newspaper, "is simply being better at the game."

    With Walter Mouse dealt with, Arthur turned his attention back to <i>Hellfire Studio''s</i> development.

    <strong>Bruce Lee''s</strong> films had ignited a martial arts fever across <i>Horn Kingdom</i> and its neighbors. The Anatolian audience couldn''t get enough, and Lee''s confidence had grown ordingly. Months ago, he''d approached Arthur with an ambitious request - to direct his own film.

    Arthur agreed, seeing it as a chance to test Lee''s growth. Even if the film flopped, the risk was minimal, especially with veteran director <strong>Amon Oblivion</strong> mentoring the project.

    Now, as September arrived, gossip columns buzzed with skepticism about Lee''s directorial debut. Even Arthur''s involvement in the script hadn''t quieted the doubters, though the trailer had certainly caught people''s attention.

    On September 12, 1273, crowds packed the <i>Horn Kingdom Theatre</i> for <i>"Game of Death''s"</i> premiere. The red carpet buzzed with excitement as cameras shed and fans pressed against the barriers.

    Arthur arrived in his signature ck suit, drawing appreciative murmurs from the crowd. <strong>Firfel</strong> and <strong>Vivienne</strong> nked him, their presence adding to the mour. <strong>Old Rocky</strong> waved to his devoted followers, while other Hellfire talents worked the carpet with practiced charm.

    The evening reached fever pitch when Bruce Lee appeared with his costars, his confident stride showing no hint of directorial nerves.

    Later, settled into the plush VIP seats between Firfel and Vivienne, Arthur observed the pre-show excitement rippling through the theatre.

    "Taking quite a risk here, aren''t you?" Vivienne whispered, adjusting her silk shawl. "Letting a popr actor jump into directing. Is Lee your new favorite or something?"

    Arthur chuckled softly. "I just see directing potential in him." He stretchedfortably in his seat. "Though I''m as curious as everyone else about how this first attempt turned out."

    "Wait," Firfel turned sharply, her eyes wide. "You haven''t seen it in your private theatre yet?"

    Arthur just nodded, a mysterious smile ying on his lips.

    The theatre lights dimmed gradually, hushing the excited murmurs of the crowd. Only the soft rustle of clothing and asional cough broke the darkness until the projector whirred to life, casting its bright beam through the darkness. The screen illuminated, and the film began.

    Arthur watched intently, keeping his hopes measured yet optimistic. His previous life''s memories of Bruce Lee''s masterpieces colored his expectations. While this world''s Lee differed from the one he remembered, both shared that raw, maic screen presence.

    As the film progressed, Arthur found himself rxing. Lee had indeed delivered. The audience leaned forward in their seats,pletely drawn in. When Lee appeared in his yellow jumpsuit with nunchaku at his side, gracefully weaving through enemies, gasps of appreciation rippled through the crowd.

    During one particrly intense fight scene, Arthur noticed something that made him smile. Among the stuntmen being thrown around, a young demon crashed dramatically into a wall - his features unmistakably those of <strong>Jackie Chan</strong>.

    Arthur couldn''t help but chuckle quietly. "Some things never change," he whispered to himself, shaking his head at how even in this world, Jackie served as Bruce''s stuntman.

    ***

    "Game of Death" silenced its critics with impressive box office numbers, reaching 49 million dors in its first week. While the martial arts focus and Bruce Lee''s directorial debut limited its appeal in Empirica and <i>Evros</i>, the film still pulled respectable millions from those regions.

    By the time it reached its ceiling of 139 million dors, Horn Kingdom''s attention had already shifted to the uing election. Screenings gradually reduced as political fever gripped the nation.

    Arthur, now a Horn citizen, made a show of heading to the polls alongside his popr actors, who had been encouraging voter participation on Hellfire Network. At the voting booth, he carefully marked his ballot for <i>RUP</i>, maintaining his public facade. He couldn''t risk RUP''s intelligencework discovering his true allegiance, even as he secretly hoped for <i>EPA''s</i> victory.

    Initial estimates suggested a modest turnout - perhaps two to three million voters from Horn''s eleven million poption. Most citizens typically remained too upied with work and daily life to participate.

    But election day brought surprises. Five million voters turned out, and when the results came in, EPA''sndslide victory stunned the kingdom''s elite. Media outlets scrambled to exin how their favored RUP, backed by royals and nobles alike, had fallen to the underdog party.

    No one celebrated more quietly than Arthur. EPA''s victory meant smoother sailing for his uing projects - particrly the inte technology he''d retrieved from the <i>DB</i>. His hundreds of clones had been working tirelessly on reverse engineering it, and with EPA in power, implementation would face fewer obstacles.

    As he watched EPA''s victory celebration on TV, Arthur allowed himself a small smile. Sometimes the best victories were the ones nobody knew you''d orchestrated.

 Chapter 182: First Follower

    <h4>Chapter 182: First Follower</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    <i>Dragon Ball''s</i> overwhelming sess in both manga and anime had unlocked new possibilities, including Arthur''s ess to inte technologies from the <i>DB</i>.

    The private dining room at the top of <i>Hellscape Center</i> provided perfect cover for Arthur''s meeting with the newly elected Prime Minister. Rich mahogany panels lined the walls, while enchanted crystals cast warm light across the pristine tablecloth. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, <i>Horn Kingdom''s</i> capital sparkled below.

    <strong>Valerie</strong> tried to follow Arthur''s exnation about interconnectedmunication technology, her brow furrowing slightly. "A technology to connect people... It''s certainly ambitious," she nodded, clearly lost but maintaining herposure. "While I don''t fully grasp the specifics, the <i>Economic Prosperity Alliance</i> will support any initiative that could boost our kingdom''s economy."

    Arthur smiled at her confusion. "Trust me, this will revolutionize how our kingdommunicates. The <i>dwarven nations</i> will be green with envy."

    Valerieughed, clearly thinking he was exaggerating. After all, the dwarves'' underground capitals housed technological marvels that even the mightiest human nations couldn''t match. "I look forward to being proven wrong," she said diplomatically. "Once the power transition isplete, you''ll have our party''s full support."

    Arthur reached to shake her hand, but Valerie''s expression suddenly turned grave.

    "Before you go, Mr. Pendragon, I have a request." Her fingers tightened around her wine ss.

    Arthur''s eyebrows rose. "Oh?"

    Valerie leaned forward, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "I''ve been receiving death threats."

    Though surprised, Arthur maintained hisposure. "When did they start?"

    "Right after the election results."

    Arthur nodded, his mind already turning to the <i>Hellsing organization</i> he''d established for precisely such situations. "Don''t worry," he assured her, his voice carrying quiet confidence. "I''ll ensure your safety."

    ***

    (<strong>Sylwen</strong> POV)

    After months in Arthur''s Hellsing Organization, I''d begun to wonder if I was its only member. Strange, for what was supposed to be an elite group.

    The afternoon sun streamed through tall windows in Arthur''s study, dust motes dancing in the golden beams. Ancient tomes lined mahogany shelves while magical artifacts gleamed in ss cases. Arthur sat behind his massive desk, looking up from his papers as I entered.

    "You''re here," he greeted with a nod.

    "I heard there''s an important mission?"

    "Urgent." He tapped a paper showing Valerie''s photo among other candidates. "These politicians I backed just won the election. Now they''re receiving death threats. I need you to protect her." He slid an address across the polished desk. "Guard her from this location. Discretely."

    I nodded, but remained standing. Arthur tilted his head. "Something else?"

    "Well..." I shifted slightly. "I''ve been wondering for months now... Where are the other members? My seniors? Why haven''t I seen anyone else from the organization?"

    A smile yed across Arthur''s lips. "Actually, you''ll meet three of our most powerful senior members at that address."

    My heart jumped. "Really?"

    "I have no reason to lie to you," he replied, still smiling.

    I hurried from his office, anticipation building as I followed the address to an apartmentplex where Valerie''s party members lived.

    On a nearby rooftop, three figures waited, each wearing in white masks that somehow seemed more unnerving than borate ones would have been.

    Landing on the roof, I instinctively reached out with my magical senses - and stumbled backward. The sheer power radiating from them hit me like a physical force.

    "Now, now, youngdy," one chuckled, his deep voice resonating with authority. "Probing your seniors upon first meeting? Rather impolite, wouldn''t you say?"

    The other two joined in hisughter.

    "My deepest apologies, seniors!" I bowed quickly, feeling like a scolded apprentice.

    The masked figures''ughter subsided as the middle one spoke with authority. "Let''s focus on our task. The elected officials must be protected at all costs. This mission cannot fail."

    "Rx, old man," the second figure rolled his shoulders. "Anyone trying to get near our targets will have to go through me first."

    "Watch that pride, Number 2," the third figure warned sharply. "Failure herepromises everything our organization stands for!"

    Their serious tone infected me with fresh determination. Whatever was at stake clearly went beyond simple protection duty.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    What Sylwen couldn''t know was that her "senior members" were actually Arthur''s clones, each containing an astronomical three million units of magical <i>mana</i> - far surpassing Arthur''s own reserves of two hundred thousand.

    Creating such powerful clones required a massive reservoir of power. Using the <i>Devourer Ring''s</i> absorption abilitiesbined with the <i>{Bracelet of Lifeblood Veins''}</i> transportation power, Arthur had embarked on a world-spanning hunt for magical energy.

    His search led him to the <i>cia Expanse</i>, where the Devourer Ring gorged itself on the thick magical mana saturating the frozen wastnd. Behind its massive ice walls stood the mysterious <i>"Anus Gate,"</i> a portal to the <i>Netherworld</i> itself.

    But Arthur knew better than to test those waters yet. The gate''s mysteries would have to wait until he grew stronger. With the bracelet''s three-travel limit and theplicated nature of its transportation - requiring a three-second passage through the ethereal <i>Lifeblood Veins</i> to reach destinations - he couldn''t risk encountering Netherworld entities that could kill him in that brief vulnerable window.

    Even those three seconds felt like an eternity when dealing with unknown threats. Arthur had survived too much to gamble his life on unexplored realms.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    <i>Angel Theatre''s</i> velvet seats and gilded walls sparkled under crystal chandeliers as <strong>John Joseph Nicholson</strong> fidgeted in his front-row seat, just behind the film''s stars. The theatre''s grandeur only emphasized how out of ce he felt.

    His heart raced with anticipation. Finally, after years of struggle, he''dnded a role alongside superstar <strong>Lewis Light</strong>. Even if it was just a few seconds, it was his chance.

    But as the film rolled on, scene after scene passed without his appearance. When the credits rolled, his name wasn''t even listed.

    Fury and humiliation churning inside him, he confronted the director outside. The man barely looked at him as he delivered the crushing news: "Sorry, your scene just didn''t make it to the final cut."

    The walk home felt endless. John''s feet dragged across cracked sidewalks until he reached his cramped apartment. The single room barely fit his thin mattressid directly on the stained floorboards.

    His walls told the story of his dreams - carefully preserved posters of <i>"Harry Potter,"</i> <i>"Lord of the Rings,"</i> and <i>"The Good, The Bad and The Ugly"</i> covered the peeling wallpaper. At their center hung a grainy newspaper photo of <strong>Arthur Pendragon</strong>, carefully cut out and preserved despite its yellowing edges.

    John copsed onto his mattress, eyes fixed on Arthur''s image. Two years ago, Arthur had been nothing - a disgraced prince, a family outcast. Now his face graced magazine covers.

    Reaching for his dog-eared copy of <i>Forbes</i> with Arthur on the cover, John traced the story he''d memorized about belief and perseverance. The parallels drew him in - he too was an outsider, fighting for his chance.

    But tonight, after years of failed auditions and now this cut scene, hope felt distant. His prayers to the <strong>Sun God</strong>, <strong>Moon God</strong>, even the <strong>Forgefather</strong> echoed unanswered.

    His reflection in the cracked mirror reminded him why - his "below average" looks that made directors look away, his ordinary features that couldn''tpete with ssical beauty.

    The entertainment industry had no ce for someone who looked like him, no matter how much he dreamed.

    John''s eyes welled up as he stared at Arthur''s grainy photo, a desperate thought crossing his mind. He immediately tried dismissing it - praying to Arthur? Ridiculous.

    John shook his head at the absurd thought of praying to Arthur. The springs creaked beneath him as he settled onto the worn mattress, its familiar musty scent filling his nostrils. Despite the summer heat seeping through his cracked window, exhaustion quickly pulled him under.

    The next morning, harsh sunlight stabbed through his eyelids as a cacophony of city sounds filtered in - distant car horns, pigeons cooing on his windowsill, and the rhythmic <i>thump-thump</i> of his upstairs neighbor''s morning routine.

    Then came the dreaded sound:

    <i>Bang! Bang!</i>

    "When are you paying your rent, John? It''s been weeks!" hisndlord''s voice boomed through the thin door.

    "Please, just more time," John called back, his voice cracking. "I''ll pay soon."

    "You better! Last warning, John!" Heavy footsteps retreated down the hallway.

    Looking back at Arthur''s photo, John felt hisst shred of dignity crumble. ''If the gods won''t listen, maybe... maybe he will.'' Dropping to his knees, John hesitated, then began.

    "Oh, Arthur Pendragon..." he stopped, searching for the right words. "Lord of Entertainment! If you can hear me... please, I''m begging you. Let me be part of your films. I don''t need to be a star, I don''t need fame - I just want to act. I''ll take any role, no matter how small. I just... I just want a chance to prove myself. Please... please hear me..."

    ***

    In Horn Kingdom, Arthur sprawled across his massive four-poster bed, silk sheets tangled around him. Moonlight filtered through enchanted curtains, casting soft shadows across his peaceful face as he dreamed of ruling from a mighty throne.

    Then an unfamiliar voice pierced his dreams, desperate and raw, begging for a chance.

    "Shut up..." Arthur mumbled, trying to cling to sleep. But the voice grew clearer, more insistent.

    He jolted awake, scanning his moonlit chamber. "Who''s there?"

    His magic and ki probed the room, finding nothing, yet the voice continued echoing in his mind.

    "What the hell?" he muttered, growing confused.

    Then a system notification chimed: <strong>[You gained 10+ divine points!]</strong>

 Chapter 183: DP and Blessing

    <h4>Chapter 183: DP and Blessing</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    Moonlight streamed through my bedroom''s enchanted windows, casting an ethereal glow on the floating system notification: <strong>[You''ve gained 10+ Divine Points]</strong>. The message hung transparent in the air as the desperate voice in my head finally started making sense.

    A man begging for a role in my productions. Actually praying to me for it.

    "Who in their right mind prays to me for acting roles?" I muttered, chuckling at the absurdity. The moment those words left my lips, my opulent bedroom blurred and shifted.

    The scene transformed to a tiny, cramped apartment. Peeling wallpaper, a mattress on bare floorboards, and a man kneeling before a wall covered in my photos and movie posters. The grainy newspaper cutout of my face served as his makeshift shrine.

    "So this is my crazy devotee," I mused, studying him closer. Nothing remarkable about his appearance, but the raw desperation in his prayer touched something in me.

    I sighed, ncing at the <i>divine points</i> his faith had granted me. The system''s interface showed a new entry under followers: <strong>John Joseph Nicholson</strong>.

    I nearly choked on air. Looking back at the praying man, then at the name again, pieces clicked into ce. "Could he be this world''s version of <i>that</i> legendary actor?"

    The possibility energized me. I explored the <i>Divine Functions</i> panel, discovering I could send financial aid and bestow <i>blessings</i> on followers.

    Without hesitation, I transferred 5,000 dors - enough to change his immediate circumstances. Then, focusing on his innate talent, I cast a blessing to enhance his already existing acting abilities.

    If this man truly paralleled the legendary actor from my previous life, this investment might yield incredible returns.

    From my ethereal vantage point, I watched John slump in defeat, clearly unable to perceive my presence. The system had merely projected my consciousness here to witness my first follower''s prayers.

    "Sigh, it seems that it didn''t work," John muttered dejectedly.

    I observed silently, anticipating his reaction to my response. The 1 <i>DP</i> I''d spent (0.8 for blessing, 0.2 for money) seemed minimalpared to the 10 DP his single prayer had granted me, though <i>divine points</i> were surprisingly precious.

    Suddenly, crisp hundred-dor bills cascaded through his open window like green leaves in an autumn breeze. John remained oblivious until a particrly thick stack smacked him square on the head.

    "What?" He winced, rubbing his scalp before freezing at the sight of money carpeting his floor. His jaw dropped, eyes growing impossibly wide as he scrambled to grab the bills.

    "This... This is five thousand dors!!!" he whispered frantically, as if afraid speaking too loudly might make it vanish.

    I couldn''t help but smile at his bewilderment.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    John''s trembling fingers clutched the money as his eyes darted to <strong>Arthur''s</strong> grainy photo. "Did it... Did it actually worked???"

    He shook his head violently. "It can''t be. He isn''t even a god..." Despite his own desperate prayer minutes ago, the idea seemed absurd.

    Then a peculiar sensation washed over him, like warm sunshine flooding his veins. Before he could process it, a familiar voice resonated in his mind: "As my first devotee, I bless your acting skills and given you five thousand dors."

    John copsed backwards, his legs giving out. That voice - unmistakably Arthur Pendragon''s! Though logic screamed it was impossible, the money in his hands and the lingering warmth in his body suggested otherwise.

    Goosebumps prickled his skin as he fought the urge to tell someone, anyone, about what had happened. But who would believe him? They''d think he''d lost his mind.

    ***

    Arthur''s consciousness floated back to his bedroom, the familiar warmth of enchanted crystals washing over him. Moonlight filtered through gossamer curtains, casting shadows across his silk sheets, so different from the cramped apartment he''d just witnessed.

    After helping John, Arthur turned his attention to the <i>{Divine Functions}</i> panel in his system interface, curiosity burning. Something about this development felt surreal - divine powers were supposed to be the domain of gods and celestial beings, yet here he was, essing divine features through the system.

    The <i>DP counter</i> and <i>Divine Shop</i> had always been there, but now new functions appeared, previously hidden from his view. All because of one devoted follower. The blessing he''d just bestowed on John was only the beginning of these newfound abilities.

    Diving deeper into the panel, Arthur''s eyes widened at each discovery. Beyond follower blessings, he could channel DP into strengthening his own magical and physical abilities. More intriguingly, he could unlock higher tiers of his <i>Morningstar bloodline</i>, advancing his demonic heritage beyond its current limits.

    The <i>"Skill Creation"</i> function particrly caught his attention. The ability tobine fictional techniques like merging a <i>"Kamehameha"</i> with a <i>"Rasengan"</i> seemed almost too good to be true. Though the 1000 DP minimum requirement put such experiments out of reach for now.

    At the same time, he could use DP to perform advanced and miraculous healing. With dozens or hundreds of DP, he could cure incurable curses or mend afflictions so severe that even the healing magic of <i>Roses Magic</i> could not provide relief.

    Most surprisingly, he found a <i>{Resurrection}</i> function. Its DP cost varied based on the target - bringing back a young, ordinary person would cost far less than resurrecting an ancient powerhouse.

    Among the divine functions, one feature particrly intrigued Arthur - the ability to create his own <i>"Domain,"</i> a private space where he could directlymunicate with his followers. This would be his most secure sanctuary,pletely hidden from the world''s prying eyes.

    <strong>[Your first follower, John Joseph Nicholson, has ced his faith in you. His devotion will generate one Divine Point daily. Though his faith remains in its infancy, as his belief deepens, your daily Divine Points will increase!]</strong>

    Arthur''s lips curved into a smile at the notification. Another message followed: <strong>[Congrattions on gaining your first follower! As a reward, you may now create your initial domain without Divine Point cost!]</strong>

    His excitement dimmed slightly upon realizing "free" had its limitations. The domain space barely matched his bedroom''s dimensions - spacious for a room, but tiny for a divine realm.

    Suddenly, Arthur found himself transported into a nk canvas of white nothingness. The space rippled like disturbed water, waiting to be shaped. The system informed him that he need only imagine to create.

    Drawing on his vision, Arthur began crafting his sanctuary. The white void transformed into his <i>Hellfire Studio</i> office, but idealized.

    Movie posters materialized on the walls - <i>"Harry Potter,"</i> <i>"Lord of the Rings,"</i> <i>"The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly"</i> arranged artistically beside vibrant anime and cartoon promotional art.

    Dark wooden shelves sprouted from the walls, filled with leather-bound books and industry magazines. His mahogany desk appeared,plete with the ornate torch sconce casting warm light nearby.

    In one corner, his <i>Golden Laurel</i>, <i>Lunar Laurel</i>, <i>Celestial Crown</i>, etc, awards gleamed on their special shelf, testament to his achievements.

    Arthur nodded approvingly at his creation. The office would serve nicely - he could always tell future followers this was merely one room in a vast domain, concealing that nothing existed beyond these walls.

    For now, this space would suffice. As his DP grew, he could expand, perhaps crafting an borate castle or seaside vi. The domain''s grandeur would grow with his power and following.

    Settling into his plush office chair, Arthur noticed the desk mirror''s surface rippling like disturbed water. An image formed - John counting out money to a gruff-looking man, clearly hisndlord. But more interesting than the scene was John''s thoughts, flowing into Arthur''s mind:

    ''<i>Lord Arthur answered so quickly... He truly is a light for the hopeless like me. People need to know about him... I don''t care if they think I''m crazy for praying to a demon...</i>''

    Arthur nodded, pleased with his follower''s devotion. More believers meant more <i>Divine Points</i>, after all.

    Then a chilling thought froze his satisfaction.

    If word spread about him answering prayers, if a cult formed around him... The actual gods and their powerful followers wouldn''t ignore such sphemy. They''d hunt him down while he was still too weak to defend himself.

    His expression darkened as he realized his first taste of divine power might have already sown seeds of danger.

 Chapter 184: Dionysus

    <h4>Chapter 184: Dionysus</h4>

    (John POV)

    Standing before my bathroom mirror, I hardly recognized myself. New pressed shirt, polished shoes, clean-shaven face - amazing what a few hours and some money could do.

    After paying off thendlord, restocking my empty kitchen, and upgrading my wardrobe, I still had 4,985 dors left. I adjusted my cor again, running fingers through freshly cut hair. For the first time in years, I looked like someone who belonged in the entertainment industry.

    Just hours ago, I''d been a broken man drowning in despair. Now? Everything had changed.

    My eyes drifted to <strong>Arthur''s</strong> grainy photo on my wall. All because of him.

    Whether others would think me crazy or not, I knew what I''d experienced was real. Arthur had answered my desperate prayer.

    Before heading to <i>Horn Kingdom</i> to meet him in person, I had a mission. The "<i>Arthur Church</i>" - my temporary name for it - needed to grow. Out in <i>Angel City''s</i> poorest districts, others like me needed to know there was hope.

    I reached for the door handle, ready to spread the word, when suddenly my vision blurred.

    "Hm?" The world shifted around me. My cramped apartment vanished, reced by an elegantly appointed office. Dark wooden shelves lined with books stretched toward a high ceiling. Movie posters and awards gleamed on the walls, while a ornate torch cast warm light from its sconce.

    Then I saw him - the demon himself sitting behind a massive mahogany desk. My heart nearly stopped.

    <strong>"Arthur Pendragon!"</strong> The name escaped my lips in a whisper of awe.

    Though his face carried a slight blur, there was no mistaking him. The confident posture, that characteristic smile, those unmistakable features showing through the haziness - definitely Arthur Pendragon!

    "You recognized me rather quickly," he observed, his voice carrying that familiar calm tone from earlier.

    "Of course, sir!" I nodded eagerly, then felt heat rise to my face as I admitted, "I... I''m actually quite a fan... I''ve collected every picture of you from magazines and newspapers!"

    I regretted the words immediately, expecting him to find my devotion <i>strange</i> or <i>unsettling.</i> Instead, his smile widened.

    "Is that so? More than a fan now - you''ve be quite the devotee." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Please, sit."

    I practically fell into the chair before his desk.

    "I''m aware of your ns," he continued, leaning forward slightly. "Preaching about my name, spreading word of my blessing and... financial assistance."

    My eyes widened. "You knew..." I whispered, though immediately felt foolish - of course he knew, he''d just granted those very blessings.

    "Naturally." That calm smile never wavered.

    "I feel such gratitude for sir- no," I caught myself, "<i>Lord Arthur''s</i> help. I just want others to know there''s <i>hope</i>."

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    Arthur studied the man before him, noting how John''s features mixed <strong>Jack Nicholson''s</strong> distinctive look with hints of <strong>Steven Ogg</strong>, though younger and leaning more heavily toward Nicholson''s appearance.

    "While I appreciate your gratitude for my blessings," Arthur began carefully, "I''d prefer if you didn''t spread word about Arthur Pendragon answering prayers."

    John''s enthusiasm dimmed with confusion. "But why?" Then, catching himself, he added hastily, "Forgive my directness, but... wouldn''t sharing your <i>grace</i> help others?"

    Arthur''s smile carried ancient wisdom he didn''t possess. "I understand your eagerness to share your experience," he said, ying the role of mysterious benefactor. "However, I wish to avoid drawing the attention of current deities."

    His voice dropped to an ethereal whisper. "For now, I must remain in the shadows, working my purpose unseen."

    John''s eyes widened as his mind raced with implications. <i>''Of course!'' </i>he thought.<i> ''Lord Arthur bides his time, gathering strength in secret before challenging those false gods who ignore our suffering... Such brilliant strategy!''</i>

    Arthur caught these thoughts and had to suppress a wince. <i>''Gods above, he thinks I''m plotting divine warfare. This guy''s imagination is running wild.''</i>

    "But my lord," John pressed, "there are so many suffering souls who need to know you''re listening to their despair..."

    Arthur sighed at John''s disappointment, then leaned forward. "I understand your desire to help others. There is a way to spread my church without drawing unwanted attention."

    John''s eyes lit up with renewed hope.

    Arthur extended a paper across his desk. "This prayer contains the proper words to reach me. I will hear all who speak these verses."

    John cradled the paper like a holy relic, his fingers trembling slightly.

    "You need not mention my name - Arthur Pendragon - to those you share this with. My true identity must remain known only to a select few." Arthur''s voice carried quiet authority.

    John''s brow furrowed with confusion, but he held his questions.

    "You are among the fortunate chosen to know my true self as the Lord who answers prayers," Arthur added, watching John''s doubt transform into pride.

    "Now, spread these prayer sheets to those who have lost hope. Let them know me as ''Dionysus.''"

    John dropped to his knees, head bowed. "I will not fail you, my Lord."

    Arthur watched as John gradually vanished from his domain, taking with him the paper prayer dedicated to <i>"Dionysus"</i>, Arthur''s new title. The prayer, purchased from the Divine Shop, granted Arthur the ability to hear anyone who uttered its words.

    ***

    John''s consciousness snapped back to his apartment, his hand still gripping the door handle. The familiar peeling wallpaper and worn furniture grounded him back in reality, though the experience felt more real than his surroundings.

    His heart raced with excitement - he''d witnessed Arthur''s divine power once again. Then he noticed the paper in his other hand, somehow both ancient and new, covered in flowing script:

    <i>"Our Father Dionysus, Most Holy Spirit of Creation..."</i>

    His eyes devoured every word of the prayer,mitting it to memory as if his life depended on it.

    John paused at the prayer''s final word. "<i>''Amen''?"</i> he muttered, testing the strange term on his tongue. But he quickly pushed aside his confusion - questioning the Lord''s wisdom wouldn''t do.

    He hurried to <i>Sterling''s Print Shop</i>, where the smell of ink and fresh paper filled the air. The printers gave him odd looks as he requested hundreds of copies, but money spoke louder than suspicion.

    ***

    Three dayster, John had put Arthur''s blessing to work. The remaining money hired a small army of distributors to spread the prayer throughout Angel City''s poorest districts.

    Under a gray sky, his hired hands gathered in an alley, shuffling nervously as they sorted stacks of papers. The scent of garbage and despair hung heavy in the air.

    "Great, another cult job," one distributor grumbled, adjusting his worn cap. "How many of these have we done now?"

    "At least this one pays well," his colleague replied, squinting at the paper. "Though <i>''Dionysus''?</i> Never heard that name in any temple."

    Despite their skepticism, they moved through the slums, papers in hand. Among the recipients, a particrly frail girl caught John''s attention.

    She couldn''t have been more than ten, her hollow cheeks and threadbare dress speaking of prolonged hunger. Four smaller siblings huddled around her, their eyes carrying that peculiar mix of desperation and stubborn hope that only children could maintain.

    As the girl epted the prayer with trembling fingers, John silently prayed she''d find the same salvation he had.

    ***

    The girl slipped behind their ramshackle house, her siblings'' whimpers and parents'' shouts muffled by thin walls.

    Finding a quiet corner, she clutched the prayer sheet with trembling hands, pressing her palms together as she''d seen others do at temples.

    Her voice barely a whisper, she began reading:

    <i>"Our Father Dionysus, Most Holy Spirit of Creation</i>

    <i>Who dwells in sacred halls of imagination,</i>

    <i>Blessed be Your divine inspiration</i>

    <i>That flows through every sacred incarnation..."</i>

    <i>"Through Your grace we step in others'' souls,</i>

    <i>In music''s prayer, Your presence flows.</i>

    <i>Upon Your blessed silver screens we soar,</i>

    <i>Through realms divine none dared explore."</i>

    <i>"Lord of holy rapture and sacred y,</i>

    <i>Guide these vessels of Your light today.</i>

    <i>In humble paint and mortal pen,</i>

    <i>Let Your truth shine forth again."</i>

    <i>"</i>Lord of Entertainment, whose art transcends,

    <i>Sanctify our creative fires,</i>

    <i>Lift our arts ever higher.</i>

    <i>In each story, song, and sacred scene,</i>

    <i>Let Your divine purpose gleam."</i>

    <i>"Through Your blessing may we create</i>

    <i>Works of wonder, pure and great.</i>

    <i>In this temple of dreams we pray,</i>

    <i>Let Your spirit guide our way."</i>

    Her small voice gained strength with each verse, emotion building as she continued through the prayer. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached the final <i>"Amen."</i>

    ***

    Halfway across the world, Arthur sat in his luxurious <i>Japon</i> hotel room, preparing for his meeting with <strong>Yasushi Akuma</strong>. The <i>samurai film project</i> needed authentic talent, and the third prince''s connection to traditional warriors could prove invaluable.

    Suddenly, a child''s desperate prayer pierced his consciousness. The pure faith and raw emotion behind it caught him off guard - stronger than any prayer he''d received yet.

    Through their connection, he glimpsed her life: hungry siblings, fighting parents, crushing poverty. Without hesitation, he reached into his divine inventory and sent her the premium beef he''d purchased from the <i>Divine Shop''s</i> Dragon Ball collection.

    A small smile crossed his face as he sensed her joy at the mysterious appearance of food. Straightening his tie, he headed out to meet Yasushi, that one small act of divine intervention already forgotten as business beckoned.

 Chapter 185: Challenge

    <h4>Chapter 185: Challenge</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Arthur''s taxi wound through Nihhon City''s bustling streets, where papernterns swayed in the crisp autumn breeze.

    The capital''s architecture mixes traditional wooden structures with modern touches - curved roofs and sliding doors alongside stone buildings. Demons dominated the crowds, making the scattered humans, elves, and dwarves stand out like exotic birds.

    Stepping from the taxi, Arthur made his way to the elevated railway station. Morningmuters packed the tform - mostly demons heading to work in pressed suits and traditional robes.

    His distinctive Morningstar features drew suspicious nces; their realm''s rivalry with Japon evident in their cold stares.

    Arthur imed a seat, ignoring the whispers. Though some clearly recognized him from entertainment news, they maintained typical Japonese reserve, keeping their distance.

    The journey to Yokohama passed through mist-shrouded mountains and autumn-touched forests. This marked Arthur''s deepest venture into Japon, leading him to Third Prince Yasushi Akuma''s residence.

    Finding a discrete alley, Arthur unfurled his wings and soared toward the prince''s estate.

    Hended before a magnificentpound - sloping tiled roofs cascaded like frozen waves, while meticulously maintained gardens created a peaceful barrier between the residence and the outside world. Stonenterns lined the gravel path leading to the main gate.

    Two guards intercepted him. "Halt! Huma-" The first guard caught himself, noticing Arthur''s horns. "I mean, demon, do you realize where you stand?"

    "This is His Highness''s residence!" the second barked. "State your purpose!"

    Arthur smiled diplomatically. "I have a scheduled audience with the prince. Please inform him of my arrival."

    <i>"No need."</i> A smooth voice interrupted. They turned to see a feline demon approaching, his elegant robes rustling softly. Silver and ck fur gleamed in the autumn light.

    <i>"Satsuki-sama."</i> The guards bowed deeply.

    Satsuki acknowledged them before turning to Arthur with a respectful bow. "Please follow me, Mr. Pendragon."

    Arthur followed Satsuki along polished wooden corridors, their footsteps whisper-quiet on the aged boards. Soft light filtered through paper screens, casting gentle shadows as they approached the meeting room. The sliding door opened with a subtle hiss.

    Inside the spacious chamber, Yasushi sat cross-legged at a low table, five demons arranged around him. The room''s minimalist elegance spoke of power through restraint rather than ostentation.

    Three of the demons - two male and one female - carried gleaming curved des at their hips, their posture speaking of years of martial discipline. The other two males wore simple robes, metal-ted headbands glinting in the filtered light.

    Yasushi rose smoothly, his smile genuine. "A pleasure to meet the renowned director once again."

    "The honor is mine," Arthur returned with a slight bow.

    As Arthur took his offered seat, his gaze swept over the assembled demons. Yasushi caught his interest.

    "Allow me to introduce my vassals, Mr. Arthur." He gestured to each in turn.

    The three armed warriors belonged to the <strong>Shinsei no Oni</strong> n, steadfast supporters of the third prince. The two headband-wearing demons hailed from the <strong>Ninja University.</strong>

    But one figuremanded particr attention - Takeshi Onimura.

    His massive frame seemed barely contained by his ceremonial armor, which bore his n''s red and ck oni mask emblem. Dark brownish-red skin bore intricate ck markings of his <i>bloodline</i>, while golden-yellow eyes burned with barely contained intensity. His ck hair, streaked with crimson at the tips, was cut with militant precision.

    Small twisted horns emerged from his temples,pleting his fierce visage. Battle scars marked his exposed arm, each telling silent stories of past conflicts.

    Takeshi and his fellow n members fixed Arthur with cold stares, while the two ninja leaned forward with barely concealed excitement.

    "Have I offended your samurai somehow?" Arthur''s light tone carried a yful edge. "They''re looking at me like I''m their next meal."

    Yasushi noted the hostility with a frown. "Takeshi, Kaede, Haruto - treat our guest as you would a fellow warrior of the de."

    The three bowed to their prince, but Kaede Kuronuma straightened with barely contained anger. Her silvery hair shifted like living silk, fox ears twitching with agitation. Her porcin skin seemed to glow with inner fire as her green eyes fixed on Arthur.

    "Forgive me, but I cannot show respect to anyone from that despicable Morningstar Kingdom!" Her voice carried the sharp edge of old wounds.

    Haruto joined in, his hand unconsciously gripping his sword hilt. "Famous or not, his blood is still that of our enemy. How dare he presume to make a film about our sacred way!"

    Arthur raised his eyebrows at their boldness. These samurai''s hatred ran deeper than he''d expected.

    "I must apologize, Mr. Arthur," Yasushi sighed, shooting his warriors a stern look. "They''ve faced Morningstar''s armies in battle. Such wounds heal slowly."

    Arthur''s smile remained gentle. "No offense taken, Your Highness. Our kingdoms'' history is...plicated."

    "Complicated?" Takeshi''s golden eyes zed. His massive frame tensed as he gestured to his scarred arm. "These marks came from your people''s des. This longest one? A gift from your elder brother, the crown prince himself."

    Silence fell heavy across the room after Takeshi''s revtion. Arthur''s careful ns for a smooth negotiation crumbled before the past grudges he hadn''t anticipated.

    "Look, I understand the bad blood between Morningstar and Japon," Arthur said carefully. "But if it''s hatred for my brother, father, family, or the entire kingdom you''re carrying - I''m already removed from that equation. I was exiled, took citizenship in Horn Kingdom. The Morningstar Kingdom and royal family are no longer my concern."

    "So perhaps," he added with diplomatic precision, "your hatred might be misced."

    Takeshi''s dark chuckle carried no warmth. "Don''t misunderstand. I hold no grudge against your elder brother. The scar he gave me was earned fairly." His eyes narrowed. "It''s the dishonorable Morningstar soldiers I despise, those who''d resort to any trick to win."

    "And you," his voice dripped with contempt, "are worse than them. Abandoning your kingdom, betraying your blood - you''re no different from those cowardly soldiers. At least they fought for something."

    Arthur''s smile finally faltered. He noticed Yasushi''s deliberate silence, sensing deeper currents beneath this confrontation. Still, he yed along. "Then how do I earn your respect and cooperation for my film?"

    The three samurai exchanged knowing looks before Takeshi''s lips curved into a predatory smile. "Simple enough. Face us inbat. Prove you''re worth our time."

    Arthur blinked at the unexpected challenge, but before he could respond, the two ninja burst into the tension.

    "Hey, this isn''t right!" Yokuma protested, waving his hands. "You can''t just challenge him like this!"

    Kurotani nodded vigorously. "Mr. Pendragon is an artist, not a warrior! He creates entertainment!"

    "Silence, shadow-crawlers," Kaede''s voice dripped with disdain. "This doesn''t concern you."

    Undeterred, the ninja nked Arthur protectively. "Mr. Arthur, forget these stubborn sword-wavers!" Yokuma pleaded. "We''ll help with your film!"

    "Yes!" Kurotani''s eyes lit up. "Make a ninja film instead! Your Naruto series is incredible - I haven''t missed a single episode!"

    Yasushi massaged his temples in helplessness.

    Despite the ninja''s protective nking, Arthur''s eyes remained fixed on Takeshi. "It seems I have no choice." He rose smoothly, causing the ninja to step back in surprise.

    "As an entertainer," a slight smile yed at his lips, "I suppose I could entertain you with a fight, samurai. How shall we proceed?"

    His casual eptance stunned the room. The samurai''s confident expressions faltered, while the ninja exchanged worried nces. Even Yasushi''sposed facade cracked slightly.

    Takeshi recovered first, though uncertainty lingered in his eyes. "Kenjutsu. We test skill, not power."

    "Mr. Arthur," Yasushi leaned forward, searching Arthur''s face, "are you certain about this?"

    Arthur''s single nod carried quiet determination.

    Yasushi''s expression turned grave. "Then we''ll take this to the garden. The space is more suitable." He paused, attempting to lighten the mood. "These ancient scrolls wouldn''t survive a proper duel."

    Arthur''s continued seriousness made the joke fall t in the tense air.

    ***

    The garden''s stone fountain trickled peacefully, bamboo leaves rustling in the autumn breeze. Stonenterns lined the gravel paths while maple trees cast dancing shadows across the immacte grounds.

    Arthur gripped the wooden katana, facing Takeshi across the garden clearing. Their audience - the two samurai, ninja pair, Satsuki, and Yasushi - watched intently from the wooden walkway.

    "Who do you think will emerge victorious, Satsuki?"

    "Without doubt, Lord Takeshi will win, your highness," Satsuki replied tly.

    Yasushi''s lips curved slightly. "Oh? Have you forgotten the news of Arthur defeating that Welsh noble with a single strike?"

    Satsuki''s expression remained cold. "The rumors of Lord Arthur''s fighting ability are noted, but Lord Takeshi holds the title <i>''Seisen no Kishi''</i> for good reason. His kenjutsu is unmatched."

    Yasushi nodded in agreement. The ancient title, meaning <strong>"Knight of the Holy War"</strong> in a long-forgotten tongue, was not bestowed lightly. Takeshi''s skill was unmatched among his peers.

    While they spoke in hushed tones, Arthur maintained his serious stance, seemingly focused on every detail.

    Though Arthur knew his true strength, he couldn''t risk underestimating Takeshi. Besides, he had to maintain his act of taking this seriously.

    Takeshiunched his first strike. Arthur blocked the deliberately weak attack, making a show of straining against it.

    "Is that all you''ve got? If so, I''m disappointed." Arthur''s words carried genuine feeling, though everyone interpreted his bravado as mere posturing, given his apparent effort in blocking the strike.

    "Heh, you think that''s all? Block this next strike!" Takeshi shifted into an aggressive stance, his expression hardening as he prepared his attack.

    Arthur maintained his act of effortful defense while Takeshi pressed his assault, each attack seemingly more aggressive than thest.

    "Takeshi''s just toying with him," Kaede smirked, her fox ears twitching with amusement.

    "He can forget about making any samurai film," Haruto chuckled darkly.

    "Who even cares about samurai these days?" Yokuma called out.

    Kurotani nodded eagerly. "Ninja stories are way more exciting! Just look at Naruto!"

    <i>"Samurai embody honor, discipline, and unwavering loyalty,"</i> Kaede shot back, her green eyes shing. "Our art isn''t for tricksters who hide in shadows."

    "Stealth is cooler," Yokuma shrugged.

 Chapter 186: A glimpse of Arthurâ€™s abilities

    <h4>Chapter 186: A glimpse of Arthur''s abilities</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    The bamboo fountain clicked rhythmically against stone as another half hour passed. Autumn leaves drifted across the dueling ground where Arthur and Takeshi continued their dance.

    The observers believed Takeshi was merely prolonging the fight for sport. They couldn''t see his growing frustration as Arthur blocked each increasingly powerful strike while maintaining his facade of struggle.

    "Stop ying around, Takeshi!" Haruto''s voice carried across the garden. "End this!"

    Takeshi''s teeth clenched as heunched another barrage, each blocked by Arthur''s seemingly clumsy yet effective defense.

    Yasushi leaned forward, his expression shifting from boredom to interest.

    Then Arthur moved. After thirty minutes of pure defense, his stance shifted to attack. Takeshi raised his guard, confident - until Arthur''s wooden de slipped past his defense like water through stones, striking a vital point with precision.

    As Takeshi grunted from the impact, Arthur followed with another strike. The wooden katana flew from Takeshi''s grip, and the mighty samurai found himself sitting in the garden dirt, stunned disbelief on his face.

    The wooden de rested against Takeshi''s throat. He looked up to find Arthur smiling down at him, rxed as if they''d just finished a casual game.

    <i>"Well, that was entertaining, wasn''t it? For both you and our audience. And look - I even managed to win."</i> Arthur''s casual tone carried none of his earlier strain.

    Takeshi stared, his mind struggling to process his defeat.

    Around the garden, everyone had risen to their feet, faces frozen in shock.

    "This... this isn''t possible..." Kaede''s whisper barely carried on the breeze.

    "Could Takeshi have thrown the match?" Haruto suggested weakly, but even as he said it, he knew better. <i>Takeshi would sooner die than dishonor himself with a false defeat.</i>

    Yasushi and Satsuki exchanged stunned nces. Even the ninja had fallen silent, their earlier yfulness reced by awe. None had imagined witnessing the third prince''s <i>strongest samurai</i> fall to an <i>entertainer.</i>

    <strong>"You..."</strong> Takeshi stared up at Arthur, recognition dawning in his eyes as he recalled Arthur''s seemingly desperate blocks transforming into this casual mastery. Understanding hit him - he''d been the one being yed all along.

    A wry smile crossed his face. <i>"I severely underestimated you."</i>

    Arthur remained silent as Takeshi continued, "You feigned weakness, defended cautiously to lower my guard, then struck at the perfect moment. <i>Brilliant strategy.</i>"

    Arthur''s face showed confusion - he''d merely pretended weakness out of habit, and struck simply because the fight had grown tedious. But Takeshi''s interpretation saved him the trouble of exnation, so he let it stand.

    Arthur extended his hand to Takeshi, who ignored it and rose on his own. Then, unexpectedly, Takeshi bowed deeply, his earlier contempt reced with genuine respect.

    "Please forgive my previous disrespect," Takeshi''s voice carried new humility. "Your victory has earned my regard. I hope you''ll overlook my earlier insults."

    "Don''t worry about it," Arthur smiled easily. "I understand why samurai would question my honor."

    Kaede and Haruto stood frozen, still processing this turn of events.

    Before anyone could stop him, Haruto stepped forward. <i>"I challenge you-"</i>

    <strong>"Silence!"</strong> Takeshi''s bark cut him off. <i>"You call yourself a samurai? Trying to fight him while he''s weary from our duel?"</i>

    Haruto''s mouth snapped shut. Beside him, Kaede swallowed her own challenge, shame coloring her cheeks.

    Yet Arthur epted Haruto''s challenge anyway. Ten minutester, Haruto joined Takeshi in defeat. Yasushi and Satsuki exchanged knowing looks - they''d caught Arthur''s deliberate show of struggle.

    The message was clear to everyone: Arthur was far stronger than he let on. He''d revealed just enough of his power to earn respect while clearly holding back, ensuring the third prince wouldn''t underestimate him again. Arthur knew well that Yasushi had orchestrated this test.

    "You''ve surprised me greatly," Yasushi admitted. "I saw only a director before me, but now I see much more."

    Arthur''s response was just a smile, interrupted by the excited ninja.

    "That was amazing!" Kurotani bounced with enthusiasm.

    "See? This proves ninja techniques are superior to samurai ways!" Yokuma dered.

    The age-old argument erupted again between the warriors.

    "Such children," Yasushi sighed, guiding Arthur away from the bickering to discuss their film project and Arthur''s broader ns for Japon.

    ***

    Sunlight filtered through paper screens in the rented production office, where hopeful actors filled the hall''s wooden benches.

    The scent of fresh tea and nervous energy mingled in the air as the line stretched down the corridor of the minor film studio Arthur hadmandeered for auditions.

    News of Arthur''s samurai film project had spread like wildfire through Japon''s entertainment circles after major TV channels and newspapers broke the story. Film critics and industry insiders buzzed with anticipation about how this foreign director would handle their cultural heritage.

    Nervous whispers rippled through the waiting actors.

    "Just imagine - being in a hundred-million-dor film!" an actor nudged his friend excitedly. "This could be our big break!"

    "Keep dreaming," hispanion sighed. "Look who we''repeting against."

    All eyes drifted to Seiji Kurotaba, the famous Japonese star whose mere presence seemed to crush their hopes. His polished appearance and confident bearing made the other actors shrink into themselves.

    Amid the growing murmurs of doubt, a loud voice cut through the tension. <strong>"Would you all shut your traps? You''re giving me a migraine!"</strong>

    Heads turned to see Enji sprawled sideways across his chair, one leg draped over the armrest. Without warning, he picked his nose and flicked the result in Seiji''s direction. "Who cares if someone''s famous? Good acting is good acting."

    He let out a dry chuckle. "One thing about Hellfire Studio - Arthur Pendragon judges talent, not reputation. Unlike these other fancy studios with their politics."

    His crude confidence sparked hope in the previously dejected faces around him. Even Seiji remained silent, unable to dispute the truth in Enji''s words.

    Among the crowd stood 90-year-old Rend¨­ Arakiba, his presencemanding quiet respect.

    The veteran actor had devoured the <i>"Seven Samurai"</i> script, seeing himself in Kambei''s role. The youthful energy buzzing through the hall didn''t faze him - he simply waited his turn with practiced patience.

    As the line dwindled, Rend¨­ finally entered the production office to face the famous director. But Arthur''s reputation meant little to him. His sole focus was bringing Kambei to life - the director could''ve been anyone.

    Still, he showed Arthur proper respect, acknowledging both his young age and remarkable achievements. While "<i>Harry Potter"</i> hadn''t impressed Rend¨­, "Seven Samurai''s" script had captured his imagination.

    He poured everything into his audition, silently praying for the role that seemed written for him.

    ***

    A weekter, Arthur reviewed his mental shortlist: Rend¨­ Arakiba for Kambei, Enji Akagiri for Kikuchiyo, Seiji Kurotaba for Ky¨±zo, and Tetsuya H¨­j¨­ for Shichir¨­ji.

    The talent was undeniable, though each brought their quirks. Enji''s rebellious nature stood out sharply against Japon''s conservative culture. Seiji maintained a calcting silence that hinted at hidden motives. And Rend¨­ carried himself with an intensity that could either be age or natural ferocity.

    Yet despite their entric personalities, their acting abilities were exactly what the film needed.

    A few dayster, Arthur wrapped up the final auditions, setting the stage for production. The samurai''s technical guidancebined with government permits and the third prince''s backing smoothed the path forward.

    All that remained was waiting for his crew to arrive in Japon, their entry guaranteed by Arthur''s connections. His status, simr to Empirica''s "green card," allowed him free reign in the kingdom.

    ***

    <i>Two dayster</i>, Arthur weed his arriving crew, the ghostly members materializing alongside their living counterparts.

    Production began in earnest. Curious onlookers gathered at a distance, watching the unusual spectacle of foreign filmmakers working alongside Japonese talent.

    Though asional demon interference interrupted shoots, the filming progressed steadily under Arthur''s direction, each day bringing the story closer to life.

    While Arthur immersed himself in "Seven Samurai," a different story unfolded in USE''s shadows. Through the poorest districts, where rain-stained walls carried desperate hopes, whispers of <i>Dionysus</i> spread like wildfire. In dim alleyways and crowded tenements, the prayer sheets passed from hand to hand, each new believer adding to the growing faith.

    John, architect of this spiritual movement, kept to the shadows as instructed. Though he yearned to openly spread the word, Arthur''s warning echoed in his mind: <i>"Stay hidden. Complete your work there, thene to Horn Kingdom. You have the makings of a great actor."</i>

    Arthur''s promise of an acting career fueled John''s caution. In shadowy meeting ces, he and his followers wore masks, hiding their identities from even each other.

    <i>"Pope John,"</i> the masked followers bowed deeply.

    John suppressed a sigh. Despite his protests, they insisted on the title.

    "What news? Have the false gods'' followers noticed our movement?" Tension threaded through his voice.

    "We''re careful, Pope," a young voice spoke from behind a mask. "No one suspects."

    Another follower shifted nervously. "Some suspicious figures in our neighborhood, but nothing immediate to fear."

    As more reports filtered in, John nodded gravely. "Stay vignt. We can''t afford attention from the false gods'' servants. Not yet."

    ***

    Afternoon light filtered through stained ss windows in the small Srus church, casting rainbow patterns across the sun god''s golden statue. In her sparse chamber, Sister Elena frowned at the prayer sheet in her hands.

    <i>"Dionysus? Lord of Entertainment?"</i> The words felt strange on her tongue.

    She remembered the bright-eyed child who''d brought it. "Please pray to Dionysus," the girl had begged. "He gives hope to those who ask."

    "Dionysus?" Elene asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

    The girl nodded and replied, "Yes, he''s the god who answered my prayer. He provides me with food after I recite the prayers written on that paper."

    "A god who answers prayers?" Elena had eximed, disbelieving.

    "Yes! He sent food when I prayed," the girl''s voice had rung with conviction. "Thank goodness I can read, or my family might still be hungry!"

    Now Elena stared at the prayer sheet, torn between doubt and worry.

    She doubted the girl''s story, but if a god truly did respond, it meant that Dionysus was <i>incredibly dangerous.</i>

 Chapter 187: Offerings

    <h4>Chapter 187: Offerings</h4>

    (Elena POV)

    I needed to learn more about this Dionysus - especially about these followers of a false god. <i>I decided to revisit the spot where I''d met the girl.</i>

    She had told me Dionysus actually answered her prayers. <i>Now that I thought about it more deeply, her life could be in danger if such an entity was demanding something in exchange for answered prayers.</i>

    I made my way through the poor district where we''d first met. To my luck, I spotted her right away. She stood out in the dreary surroundings, her eyes bright with life, arge sack resting at her feet.

    "Hi,dy! We meet again!" The girl noticed me and gave me a warm smile.

    I nodded back with a smile of my own, ncing at the sack. "Hi. What do you have in there?"

    "Ah, this?" The girl looked down and opened the sack, revealing fresh produce inside. "Just some fruits and vegetables."

    "Oh, healthy foods," I said with curiosity. "Are you nning to sell them?"

    <i>I thought she must be selling them</i>, but to my surprise, she shook her head. "This? Hehe, no. I''m going to give them to my neighbors."

    That caught me off guard. As she spoke, people from the neighborhood began gathering around her. The girl happily distributed the fruits and vegetables to everyone who came.

    I watched in amazement. <i>This girl clearly lived in the same poverty as everyone else here, yet she was giving away all this food without hesitation.</i>

    After she''d given away thest of it, I had to ask, "Why did you give everything away? What about yourself?"

    "Didn''t I tell you before?" she replied simply. "<strong>Lord Dionysus</strong> will give me more food whenever I pray for it."

    Her words left me more and more troubled. "This Lord Dionysus... it would be better if you stayed away from such an entity, young girl..."

    The girl''s face scrunched in confusion. "Why? He has always been kind to me."

    I sighed. "I''m part of the <strong>Srus Faith</strong>, and I must tell you - except for the <strong>Three Known Gods</strong>, you shouldn''t pray to any others. They''re false gods who only want to deceive you."

    The girl''s expression turned wary at my words. "So you''re one of them - a follower of the false gods?"

    "What?" I eximed, taken aback. As we continued talking, the girl insisted that the "Three Known Gods" were actually the false ones, and that only <strong>Lord Dionysus</strong> was true.

    I sighed, feeling the weight of concern as I asked, "What''s your name, child?"

    "Me? I''m Crystal," she replied, her voice clear and bright.

    I knelt down to meet her eyes, making sure she could see the seriousness in my expression. "Listen carefully, Crystal. Even if Dionysus answers your prayers now, have you considered what he might want in return?"

    "In return?" Crystal''s innocent eyes widened with confusion.

    I nodded slowly. "Yes. These gifts - they seem too good to be true. What if Dionysus is asking for something precious in exchange... like your soul?"

    Fear flickered across Crystal''s face, but she shook her head firmly. "No, that''s not true. I''ve spoken with Him myself. He''s kind and really cares about me!"

    Her words sent a chill down my spine. <i>This entity was actuallymunicating with the child? That could only mean Dionysus had already marked Crystal as a target.</i>

    <i>This revtion meant the entity was watching from the Spiritual World.</i> The thought made my blood run cold.

    My mind shed back to my days at <strong>Srus School</strong><i>.</i>

    <i>I could still see the towering marble columns of the lecture hall, smell the burning incense that always apanied our lessons. Our teacher''s stern voice echoed in my memory as she exined the </i><strong><i>Spiritual World</i></strong><i> - that shadowy realm where false gods dwelled. While most entities there couldn''t touch our physical world, some dangerous exceptions existed, capable of reaching across the barrier to harm mortals.</i>

    The fact that Crystal received both answers and physical food from Dionysus proved this entity could affect our world. The realization terrified me.

    I tried warning Crystal further, but her faith remained unshakeable. <i>I couldn''t force her to abandon her beliefs in Dionysus. In a way, I understood - when someone answers your prayers and feeds your family, faithes naturally.</i>

    <i>For now, I could only watch over Crystal. The thought of reporting this to the church gnawed at me, but I hesitated. Who knew what they might do to her?</i>

    <i>Though I was a sister of Srus, even I didn''t know all the church''s methods. The whispered rumors of how they dealt with cult members sent shivers down my spine - tales of harsh interrogations and worse.</i>

    <i>No, I needed to observe first. I would only bring her to the church if something happened to her.</i>

    ***

    Day after day, I visited Crystal. To my growing surprise, she seemed to glow brighter with each passing day, her smile more radiant than ever. Yet this only heightened my concern. <i>At any moment, Dionysus could snatch everything away from her.</i>

    <i>Everything I''d learned about false gods told me they always demanded payment from their followers - usually within days or at most a week after answering prayers.</i>

    But days passed, and Dionysus asked nothing of Crystal. It defied everything I knew.

    Then, a weekter, Crystal ran up to me, practically bouncing. "Sister Elena, you were right! <strong>Lord Dionysus</strong> is asking for something in return!"

    My heart plummeted. "What does he want?" I asked, dreading the answer.

    Crystal''s reaction stunned me - she beamed. "<strong>Lord Dionysus</strong> wants wine and grapes!"

    I nearly choked on air. "W-what? Wine and grapes?"

    "Mhm!" Crystal nodded eagerly. "He says they''re his favorites. And he''s not even forcing me to give them - I want to!" She paused, looking up at me with pleading eyes. "Sister Elena, could you help me get some wine and grapes?"

    My astonishment grew as she added sweetly, "Please?"

    "Alright," I sighed, unable to resist her hopeful expression.

    Crystal beamed with joy. Looking at her innocent face, <i>I felt relieved that Dionysus wasn''t demanding her soul, yet my confusion only grew.</i>

    <i>Who exactly was this Dionysus?</i>

    <i>I''d noticed others in this poor district praying to him too. But these followers were different from any cult I''d encountered before. They carried themselves with dignity, kept their surroundings clean, and showed none of the wild fervor I''de to expect from false god worshippers.</i>

    My opinion of Dionysus began to waver, but I quickly caught myself.<i> Whether he asked for wine and grapes or souls, he was still a false god.</i>

    The marketce buzzed with afternoon activity - vendors shouting prices, wooden carts creaking over cobblestones, the mingled scents of fresh bread and overripe fruit hanging in the air. Crystal bounced along beside me as we searched for wine and grapes. <i>I could have taken wine from the church stores, but stealing felt wrong, and I couldn''t exin why I needed it.</i>

    Looking at my wallet, now lighter by two dors after purchasing the offerings, I could only sigh as we headed to Crystal''s home.

    The single room she shared with her family barely fit two thin mattresses. Faded curtains hung limply from rusted rods, and a cracked window let in the afternoon light. Despite the poverty, the space was surprisingly clean.

    "Where are your parents?" I asked, looking around the sparse room.

    Crystal''s smile never dimmed. "The followers of <strong>Lord Dionysus</strong> made them get jobs."

    "Made them get jobs?" I echoed in surprise.

    She nodded. "They used to fight all day, but <strong>Lord Dionysus</strong> saw our situation. He told his followers, and now Mom works as a waitress and Dad''s aborer."

    <i>My astonishment grew. A false god concerned about a mortal family''s welfare? This was unheard of.</i>

    Crystal''s siblingsy peacefully sleeping on one mattress. She carefully arranged the wine and grapes on a clean cloth spread over the floor. As she began to pray, the room''s atmosphere shifted subtly. The light seemed to dim, creating mysterious shadows in the corners.

    Then a voice spoke, warm and gentle: <i>"Little girl, thank you for this."</i>

    <strong><i>Dionysus</i></strong><i>!?</i>

    <i>I should have felt terror at hearing a false god''s voice, but instead, aforting warmth filled the room.</i> Before my eyes, the wine and grapes vanished in a shower of golden sparks.

 Chapter 188: Samurai way

    <h4>Chapter 188: Samurai way</h4>

    (Arthur POV)

    The afternoon sun beat down on our film set in the vige outside <strong>Nihhon City</strong>. Wooden buildings and carefully constructed props transformed thendscape into a feudal-era setting for <i>"Seven Samurai."</i>

    As I called cut on the final scene of the day, a familiar chime echoed in my mind, and the system interface materialized before my eyes.

    [<strong>Divine Offering Received! Your follower has presented wines and grapes, converting to 0.80 Divine Points!</strong>]

    Curious, I retreated to my domain to check the viewing mirror. The reflective surface rippled like disturbed water before revealing Crystal - the young girl whose prayers had touched me before. But she wasn''t alone. A woman in pristine white robes stood beside her, the unmistakable attire of a <strong>Srus Faith</strong> sister.

    <i>So this is Elena, the sister Crystal mentioned...</i>

    Crystal had told me about Elena during her prayers. The sister had formed a protective bond with my young follower, making it unlikely she''d report Crystal for worshipping a "false god" like myself.

    After thanking Crystal for her offering, I left my domain, satisfied with how my following had grown.

    The <strong>Divine Points</strong> had been flowing more steadily since I''d unlocked the offering function a few days ago. I''d informed my followers about eptable offerings - wine, honey, fruits, bread, even animals.

    <i>Some clever followers had tried gaming the system by praying for wine, then offering portions back to me. While I appreciated their ingenuity, the system took offense.</i> It prompted me to punish such deception, and Iplied.

    The punishment came in the form of minor curses - temporary loss of speech, sight, hearing, or movementsting a few days. The system ensured these cursed followers didn''t suffer from hunger or other hardships during their punishment, but the message was clear. After that, no one dared attempt the prayer-and-offer trick again.

    Back on set, we continued shooting the crucial scenes where the samurai train the vigers in self-defense. The cast had exceeded my expectations, especially Rend¨­.

    The veteran actor had insisted on actually shaving his head for the role of Kambei, despite my offers of alternatives. <i>That level ofmitment to authenticity impressed me - it was exactly the kind of dedication that elevated a good film to greatness.</i>

    Enji had truly embodied Kikuchiyo. The makeup team had aged him with carefully crafted sideburns and weathered skin, transforming himpletely into the character I''d envisioned. His performance carried both the character''s rough energy and hidden depths.

    Seiji brought a quiet intensity to Ky¨±zo that perfectly captured the master swordsman''s essence. The rest of the Japonese cast matched their dedication, putting their hearts into every scene of <i>"Seven Samurai."</i>

    Prince Yasushi''s three samurai proved invaluable, especially Takeshi. He meticulously guided the actors in everything from sword positions to the proper way to project their voices with samurai authority. Their expertise addedyers of authenticity I couldn''t have achieved otherwise.

    The days had flown past, and suddenly we were approaching the film''s climactic scenes.

    <i>The sky opened up, releasing a steady drumbeat of rain that soaked the set - perfect conditions for the final battle we needed to shoot.</i> The raindrops created a misty curtain across our carefully constructed vige, adding a somber atmosphere to the scene.

    "Action!" My voice cut through the rainfall.

    The scene unfolded - the bandit leader, cornered in his hut, taking aim at Ky¨±zo. Seiji''s performance as he fell was devastating in its simplicity. His eyes widened in surprise, then understanding, before he crumpled to the mud. The rain streaked down his face like tears, and I felt my own throat tighten at the power of the moment.

    Enji''s reaction as Kikuchiyo was explosive. His face contorted with grief and rage as he charged the hut, heedless of the gunfire. The bandit leader''s shots rang out, but Kikuchiyo pushed forward with unstoppable fury, cutting down hisrade''s killer before finally sumbing to his wounds.

    I signaled the camera crew to move in closer, capturing every detail of Enji''s final scene as his fellow samurai rushed to their fallen friend.

    "Cut!" The word barely made it past the lump in my throat.

    After calling cut, I noticed Enji and Seiji still lying in the mud, their eyes glistening with tears as they remained caught in their characters'' final moments. <i>The simple power of their performances had created something truly special.</i> Reviewing the footage, I nodded with quiet satisfaction.

    We continued filming until dusk settled over the set. That''s when Takeshi and his fellow samurai returned to review the day''s scenes.

    Their reactions to Ky¨±zo and Kikuchiyo''s deaths were immediate and heated.

    "We agreed to Heihachi and Gorobei''s deaths," Kaede''s voice rose with indignation, "but Ky¨±zo and Kikuchiyo? This makes no sense at all!"

    I couldn''t help but chuckle wryly at their reaction.

    "They should be celebrating victory with the vigers!" Haruto protested. "They''re supposed to be heroes!"

    Kaede leaned forward hopefully. "Can''t you change this part?"

    I shook my head firmly. "No. This ending is exactly as it should be." I gave them a pointed look. "If you''d read the script I provided, you''d have known Ky¨±zo and Kikuchiyo''s fates from the beginning."

    The samurai''s slight blush confirmed my suspicion - they hadn''t bothered reading the script.

    "You two," Takeshi''s deep voice cut through their protests, "if you truly understood the way of the samurai, you''d recognize the honor in dying while fighting for what''s right, defeating those cowardly bandits." His eyes carried a deep emotion as he spoke.

    Kaede and Haruto fell silent, absorbing their senior''s words.

    Takeshi turned to me with newfound respect. "You wrote this perfectly, Mr. Arthur. Ky¨±zo and Kikuchiyo - they died as true samurai."

    I smiled, grateful he understood. "Thank you."

    Takeshi bowed formally before dragging his still-contemtivepanions away.

    ***

    (3rd Person POV)

    The morning mist clung to Nihhon Airport''s ancient stone towers where massive airships swayed gently at their moorings. After just one month in <strong>Japon</strong>, Arthur hadpleted <i>"Seven Samurai"</i> and prepared to return to <strong>Horn Kingdom</strong>. The Japonese cast gathered at the departure tform, their figures distinct against the pale morning light. Steam hissed from the docked airships while dock workers scurried about with cargo and luggage.

    Arthur smiled warmly at his cast as they bowed deeply, their respect evident in the formal gesture. With a final wave to the actors who had brought his vision to life, he boarded the airship with his crew. The vessel''s massive silk envelope cast rippling shadows across the tform as it rose into the morning sky.

    As Japon''s misty coastline receded below, Arthur settled into his cabin and reflected on his time in the kingdom. <i>The month had immersed him in Japon''s rich culture ¨C he''d witnessed traditional theatre performances where masked actors brought ancient myths to life, studied their literary traditions, and absorbed their storytelling techniques.</i>

    These experiences had sparked an unexpected idea. Through his system interface, he had purchased ssic novels from his previous life. But rather than releasing them in the real world, he saw an opportunity in the fictional realm of Naruto.

    His attempts to share literature in the <strong>Dragon Ball</strong> universe had fallen t ¨C that world''s inhabitants were too focused on martial arts and power to appreciate written stories.

    But the Naruto world, with its appreciation for arts and culture, proved different.

    Under the pen name <i>"Dattebayo Diaries,"</i> his novel "<strong>Snow Country</strong>" had found an eager audience in <strong>Konoha</strong>. The story resonated with the ninja vige''s residents, who appreciated its themes of transient beauty and human connection.

    To Arthur''s surprise, this sess finally earned him <strong>Entertainment Points</strong> in a fictional world ¨C something he hadn''t achieved even in Dragon Ball''s universe. The notification had appeared just as his novel began climbing Konoha''s bestseller lists.

    During the airship journey, Arthur entered the <strong>{Creator''s Realms}</strong>.

    His first-ss cabin provided the privacy he needed. The <strong>{Creator''s Realms}</strong> skill had reached level 2, allowing him to ess the white world with just a thought. Now his physical body merely appeared to be sleeping when he made the transition, unlike before when it wouldpletely vanish from the real world.

    In the <strong>Naruto</strong> world, Arthur had taken Kiba''s ce in <strong>Team 8</strong>, working alongside Hinata and Shino as their teammate.

    With <strong>Entertainment Points</strong> now flowing from his sess in Naruto, Arthur began considering a new direction. He contemted leaving the team to establish a theatrepany in Konoha. <i>Perhaps he''d even publish manga under the pen name "Dattebayo Diaries".</i>

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 189: My Holy Day

    <h4>Chapter 189: My Holy Day</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    Upon returning to <strong>Horn Kingdom</strong>, Arthur strode into <strong>Hellfire Anime Studio</strong>. Through the soundproof ss of the recording booths, he watched Firfel and Vivienne working at their stations. Their voices carried faintly through the monitors as they breathed life into their characters, scripts clutched in their hands while red recording lights pulsed steadily.

    When Vivienne emerged, her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Look who''s finally graced us with his presence. Enjoyed your Japonese getaway?"

    "Hardly a getaway," Arthur countered, his wry smile belying his exhaustion. "Try weeks of non-stop filming and negotiations with the prince. My idea of a vacation usually involves fewer samurai critiquing my every move."

    "Oh?" Vivienne raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were lounging in hot springs. You''ll have to show me this mysterious film of yours."

    "Once it''s ready," Arthur promised. "Though I doubt you''ll believe half of what happened there."

    "Arthur!" Firfel''s voice carried warmth as she joined them, still clutching her script pages.

    He turned, offering a gentle smile. "How are you?"

    "Busy - voicing Bulma and other characters in your series," she replied brightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But managing."

    "You''re not neglecting your acting career, are you?" Concern tinged his voice.

    "Of course not." Her smile widened. "I''m actually filming right now - just drove over because I didn''t want to miss Bulma''s sessions."

    "You could always catch up on recordingter," Arthur suggested. "Focus on your shoots."

    "She won''t," Vivienne interjected, her lips curving knowingly. "She''s as devoted to this studio as she is to--" Her gaze moved deliberately between them. "Anyway, I''ll leave you two lovebirds alone."

    Firfel''s cheeks flushed pink. "What are you implying? Don''t be ridiculous."

    "Yeah, where''s thising from?" Arthur added.

    Vivienne gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh, please. Don''t y innocent. You think I haven''t noticed? After months of watching you two, it''s obvious there are feelings there!"

    They fell silent as she continued, "Neither of you will admit it, but I see right through you both!"

    Firfel darted a quick look at Arthur before looking away. She let out a nervousugh. "Don''t make assumptions, Vivi! That''s not fair." Gathering her things hastily, she added, "Anyway, I need to get back to my shoot!"

    As Firfel rushed away, Vivienne turned her knowing gaze to Arthur.

    "I''ve got things to handle," Arthur said with a shrug, making his own exit.

    Vivienne watched them both leave, shaking her head with a resigned sigh.

    ***

    In his office, Arthur settled into the padded leather chair, its familiarfort doing little to quiet his racing thoughts. The afternoon sunlight filtered through therge windows, casting a warm glow across his polished desk as he pondered Vivienne''s observations.

    <i>Her insight had caught him off guard - she''d noticed something he thought he''d hidden well. But Firfel''s feelings remained uncertain. True, her nervous exit and blushing seemed promising, but he needed more concrete signs.</i>

    <i>This time, he wanted near certainty - at least 90 percent - before making any moves. His previous life had taught him hard lessons about the friend zone, experiences he wasn''t eager to repeat. The thought of Firfel responding with "let''s just be friends" made him hesitate.</i>

    Pushing aside these personal concerns, Arthur focused on hispany''s performance review. While films remained their primary revenue source, television ventures showed impressive growth. His mission to revive football in this world had exceeded expectations.

    The <strong>Horn Premier League''s</strong> live broadcasts had captured the kingdom''s imagination, with his own team <strong>Hellfire FC</strong> clinching the championship. Excitement for uing matches continued to build throughout the kingdom.

    In <strong>Wales</strong>, where Arthur had established the <strong>Welsh Premier League</strong>, recent live broadcasts on <strong>Welsh Hellfire Network</strong> were already drawing significant attention. Football''s revival was proceeding exactly as nned.

    Arthur scanned Genesis''s letter with interest. The Welsh noble-turned-footballer expressed genuine excitement about the sport''s growing poprity in his kingdom, urging Arthur to expand it across <strong>Evros</strong>.

    The suggestion made him chuckle. <strong>Horn</strong>, <strong>Morningstar</strong>, and <strong>Wales</strong> were just the beginning.

    Arthur harbored no illusions about the challenge ahead. Discing traditional sword fighting tournaments and magical sports would take years - those events had deep roots and strong media coverage. But he remained undaunted.

    His next moves were already taking shape: establishing <strong>FIFA</strong>, introducing the <strong>Ballon d''Or</strong> and <strong>Golden Boy</strong> awards. The first step would be unifying the <strong>Anatolian</strong> and <strong>Evros Football Associations</strong> under one governing body. From there, he could assemble professional judges to evaluate talent and determine award recipients.

    ***

    Meanwhile in <strong>Angel City''s</strong> poorest districts, Dionysus''s following had grown to five thousand believers, drawing the attention of <strong>Srus Faith''s</strong> leadership.

    Inside the marble halls of <strong>Angel City''s Srus Temple</strong>, golden light streamed through towering stained ss windows, illuminating the gathered religious officials.

    At the ornate meeting table sat <strong>High Priest Eryndor</strong>, three Senior Inquisitors, and five Temple Elders. Incense smoke coiled through the air from silver censers as <strong>High Inquisitor Thaddeus</strong>, head of <strong>Angel City''s Srus</strong> branch, addressed the assembly.

    "Disturbing reports have reached us from the underprivileged districts," Thaddeus''s voice resonated through the chamber. "They worship a false god called Dionysus. Most concerning is how rapidly this cult has spread - materializing mysteriously just a month ago."

    High Priest Eryndor stroked his beard. "Dionysus... A new entity entirely. We''ve documented many cults, but none dedicated to this deity."

    "We should petition <strong>Apollo Kingdom</strong> for a champion," another high priest urged. "Their <strong>Sacred Knights</strong> could root out these heretical teachings swiftly."

    A temr elder waved dismissively. "Requesting a champion for such a minor disturbance? This hardly warrants their attention. It''s a simple cult - well within our capabilities to handle."

    "Indeed," another elder agreed. "This Dionysus only draws followers from the lower sses. Unlike other cults with noble or royal adherents, they pose no real threat."

    "A simple show of force should suffice," suggested a high priest. "Send the city guard to discourage these peasants from straying from <strong>Lord Srus''s</strong> light."

    Murmurs of agreement rippled through the assembly, their casual disdain for the poor people evident in every word.

    Elena, quietly refilling wine goblets, listened with growing concern. <i>Her anxiety peaked at mention of champions, then eased as they dismissed the threat.</i>

    Moving away from the meeting, she caught herself feeling relieved that Dionysus''s followers would be spared - a startling revtion. <i>Remembering Crystal''s answered prayers and the other miracles she''d witnessed, Elena found herself wondering if perhaps this "false god" wasn''t so false after all.</i>

    ***

    Throughoutte November, Arthur methodically established <strong>FIFA</strong>, consolidating the football associations under his influence - <strong>Anatolia</strong>, <strong>Evros</strong>, <strong>Wales</strong>, and <strong>Horn</strong> - into a unified governing body.

    His meetings with association executives about uing award ceremonies proved productive, with each proposal meeting enthusiastic support.

    By December, as his sports initiatives flourished, Arthur turned his attention to a long-considered project - establishing December 25 as a holiday in this world, drawing inspiration from Christmas in his previous life.

    His position as Dionysus,bined with his growing media influence, made such cultural transformation possible.

    That evening, Arthur reclined in his bed while initiating mentalmunication with John, the city''s darkness providing a fitting backdrop for their discussion.

    "The <strong>Srus Church</strong> has taken notice of our activities," John reported, tension evident in his voice. "Their city guards have begun harassing our followers, demanding they forsake you and pledge themselves solely to Srus."

    Arthur considered this development briefly before responding, "Guide our followers to outwardly conform - appear to worship Srus while maintaining their true devotion in secret."

    The pragmatic instruction startled John, but as the voice of his deitymanded it, he had no choice but toply.

    Shifting topics, Arthur outlined his vision for December 25. "I want to establish a day of universal celebration," he exined. "A time when all beings - regardless of wealth, status, or race -e together in fellowship and exchange gifts."

    "What shall we call this sacred day, my lord?" John asked from his modest apartment, intrigued by the concept.

    "This will be known as the <strong>Festival of Dionysus</strong>," Arthur exined, "though publicly, we''ll call it the ''<strong>Winter Festival</strong>'' to avoid unwanted attention."

    <i>This wasn''t mere nostalgia for Christmas from his previous life - his </i><strong><i>Divine Feature</i></strong><i> demanded a holy day for his role as Dionysus. December 25th proved an ideal choice, as various cultures in this world already marked it with their own celebrations, though none had achieved widespread recognition. Arthur saw an opportunity to transform these scattered observances into something greater, unifying them under his influence.</i>

    "For now, our followers number only a few thousand humans," he continued, his voice carrying quiet conviction, "but when demons, elves, and dwarves join our celebrations, this day will take on even greater meaning."

    John''s face brightened with understanding. "I look forward to witnessing that day, my lord."

 Chapter 190: Winter Day

    <h4>Chapter 190: Winter Day</h4>

    (3rd Person POV)

    On December 3, the <strong>Hellfire Network</strong> initiated its campaign to present December 25 as a special day.

    On <strong>Hellfire News</strong>, news anchor Alissa''s voice carried through television screens across the kingdom. "Did you know there exists a myth about December 25? A tale where a being named ''<strong>Santa us</strong>'' bestows gifts upon those who show kindness and decorate their homes with twinkling lights?" She let out a softugh at the fantastical notion before continuing, "James Chen brings us more on this story with <strong>Righteous Film''s</strong> studio head, Rayleigh Wang."

    The broadcast shifted to James standing beside Rayleigh. "Is there any truth to this myth, Mr. Wang?"

    Rayleigh pulled an ancient scroll from his desk drawer. "My research team discovered these historical documents containing the <strong>Santa us</strong> legend - take a look."

    The yellowed parchment revealed intricate drawings of a rotund figure dressed in crimson robes, a massive sack slung over one shoulder. Below the illustration, faded text detailed the mythical tale.

    "Your mansion''s new decorations - were they inspired by this legend?" James inquired.

    "Follow me," Rayleigh invited with a smile. The camera tracked their movement until his mansion came into view, its entire facade transformed by countless twinkling lights. The surrounding gardens twinkled just as brightly in the evening air.

    "Incredible..." James couldn''t hide his amazement.

    "I wanted to honor the old traditions," Rayleigh exined. "I''ve even started giving gifts to others. The legends say such gestures of kindness might bring special blessings."

    Back in the studio, Alissa''s eyes widened with genuine intrigue. "That''s quite something, isn''t it? And it seems this <strong>Santa us</strong> legend has captured more attention than we thought..."

    She leaned forward, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Even Boss Arthur Pendragon has embraced the tradition." The broadcast cut to sweeping footage of Arthur''s estate, where thousands of lights transformed the expansive grounds into a glittering wondend.

    After amercial break, advertisements flooded the screen - affordable "<strong>Winter Lights</strong>" and "<strong>Winter Trees</strong>" promised to attract Santa''s blessings to any home.

    <i>The marketing strategy worked brilliantly.</i> Across Horn Kingdom, families rushed to order the reasonably priced decorations, eager to participate in this emerging tradition.

    With each passing day, December 25th''s significance grew throughout Horn Kingdom. While Hellfire Network''s regional broadcasting kept the

    phenomenon contained to Horn''s borders - preventing spread to <strong>Morningstar</strong>, <strong>Japon</strong>, <strong>Thorne</strong>, and beyond - excitement within the kingdom reached fever pitch.

    <i>Children pleaded with their parents for decorations, desperate to draw the mythical </i><strong><i>Santa us</i></strong><i> to their homes. Though adults met the legend with skepticism, they couldn''t resist joining in as entire neighborhoods began to sparkle with winter lights.</i>

    Arthur further fueled the festivities by announcing a spectacr December 25th celebration - <strong>Nirvana</strong> and <strong>Queen</strong> would perform a free concert at the football stadium, his gift to the kingdom for this special day.

    ***

    Late afternoon sunlight nted through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Arthur''s office, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany desk. Rayleigh Wang, his monkey demon features sharp in the golden light, fixed Arthur with a calcting stare.

    "Now that I''ve helped spread these ridiculous tales about December 25th, can I finally distribute <strong>Seven Samurai</strong>?" Rayleigh''s tail twitched with barely contained impatience.

    Arthur''s lips curved into a rxed smile. "I am a demon of my word." He extended his hand across the desk. "Partners again?"

    Rayleigh''s grin widened as he sped Arthur''s hand. "About time," he exhaled in relief. "I thought you''d hold a grudge after I dismissed you as irrelevant to filmmaking. <strong>Harry Potter''s</strong> sess proved me embarrassingly wrong."

    "Your earlier doubts were understandable," Arthur replied with easy grace.

    Rayleigh leaned back in his chair. "What''s the real story behind this <strong>Santa us</strong> nonsense? Just a ploy to sell those cheap decorations and your new drink - what was it, <strong>Coke</strong>?"

    "Just business," Arthur confirmed with a pleasant smile. <i>He kept to himself the deeper truth - his ns to establish December 25th as Dionysus''s holy day and create films celebrating what this world would know as Winter Day.</i>

    The conversation turned to Arthur''s discussions with Prime Minister Valerie about making December 25th an official holiday,plete with employee bonuses. <i>Perfect timing for his holiday film release, he thought, though that detail remained unspoken.</i>

    ***

    As days passed, the people of Horn Kingdom found themselves unexpectedly caught up in the excitement of the approaching "<strong>Winter Day</strong>."

    December''s chill drove many to seek refuge in caf¨¦s. Inside <i>The Morning Brew,</i> the scent of roasted coffee beans and freshly baked pastries mingled with the warmth from crackling fireces. Steam rose from cups as patrons shed their heavy coats, grateful for the shelter from the biting winter wind.

    A group of demon employees imed a corner table, their coffee cups warming their hands as they huddled close in conversation.

    "Have you heard? <strong>Parliament''s</strong> considering a bill to make <strong>Winter Day</strong> an official holiday!" A horned demon said, his breath visible in the caf¨¦''s warm air.

    An imp demon nearly spilled histte in excitement. "And the news sayspanies will have to give holiday bonuses!"

    "Let''s hope the bill passes," another added, stirring cream into his dark roast.

    A fiend demon snorted, his skepticism evident. "But are we really buying this <strong>Santa us</strong> nonsense? Some spirit visiting kind families to grant children''s wishes? Sounds like fantasy to me."

    "Who cares if it''s real?" A demonughed, taking a long sip of his coffee. "As long as we get a holiday and bonus, Santa can be whatever he wants."

    The group erupted inughter. <i>Whether Santa existed hardly mattered - the myth had already brought the promise of a holiday and extra pay.</i>

    Hellfire Studio took the lead, announcing <strong>Winter Day</strong> bonuses and holidays before the bill''s passage, sparking envy among workers across Horn Kingdom.

    The jealousy proved short-lived. On December 11th, <strong>Parliament</strong> passed legition making December 25th an immediate national holiday. Companies found themselves obligated to provide both time off and holiday bonuses.

    Public approval for the <strong>Economic Prosperity Alliance</strong> soared. Even those who hadn''t supported <strong>EPA</strong> now praised the party''s swift action. "Finally, our votes mean something," became amon sentiment in workce conversations.

    <i>Though Horn Kingdom''s royal and noble families privately bristled at </i><strong><i>Parliament''s</i></strong><i> growing influence, they maintained carefully crafted public smiles, aware of the holiday''s overwhelming poprity among their subjects.</i>

    When December 25th arrived, employees celebrated their bonuses and day off. The football stadium pulsed with energy as <strong>Nirvana</strong> and <strong>Queen</strong> took the stage for their free concert.

    <strong>Hellfire MTV</strong>,unched just weeks earlier, broadcast the performances live. The coverage reached beyond Horn''s borders, streaming into homes across <strong>Morningstar</strong>, <strong>Japon</strong>, <strong>Choson</strong>, <strong>Bharat</strong>, and <strong>South East Anatolia</strong>.

    Viewership numbers shattered records. <i>As citizens of other kingdoms watched the electric performances, many couldn''t help but envy Horn Kingdom''s residents who witnessed the rising bands in person.</i>

    While <strong>Nirvana</strong> and <strong>Queen</strong> had yet to perform beyond <strong>Horn</strong> and <strong>Morningstar''s</strong> cities, their trajectory pointed toward joining world tours alongside established giants like "<strong>Bear</strong>," "<strong>Moonlight Serenade</strong>," and "<strong>Jazz King</strong>." Thanks to television exposure, their poprity surged daily as millions embraced their music.

    Viewers outside Horn Kingdom watched the free concert with growing curiosity. <i>The sea of red-d concertgoers and the vocalists'' repeated mentions of "Winter Day Special" sparked questions.</i>

    Unaware of Horn''s new holiday, foreign audiences found themselves puzzled by the festivities. "I visited <strong>Horn Kingdom</strong>st year," a <strong>Morningstar</strong> viewer mused, "and there was no mention of any <strong>Winter Day</strong> celebration."

    Their confusion deepened during an <strong>MTV</strong> interview with an enthusiastic fan who gushed about "<strong>Santa us</strong>" and "holiday bonuses." Only after the concert, when local newspapers reported Horn Kingdom''s new holiday legition, did understanding dawn. Workers across other kingdoms read about the mandated holiday and bonuses with barely concealed envy.

    As December 25th''s evening settled over <strong>Horn City</strong>, crowds gathered for "<strong>Seven Samurai''s</strong>" premiere. <i>Thebination of the holiday and fresh bonus payments drew unprecedented numbers to theaters. Workers, pockets filled with bonus pay, purchased tickets in record numbers, turning the premiere into an event that matched the day''s festive atmosphere.</i>

    For many workers, "<strong>Seven Samurai</strong>" marked their first cinema experience. The audience found themselves swept into the story, roaring withughter at Kikuchiyo''s antics. Yet by the film''s end, tears flowed freely as both the beloved fool Kikuchiyo and the noble Ky¨±zo met their tragic fates.

    <i>Viewers emerged from theaters with reddened eyes and full hearts, the film''s emotional impact lingering long after the credits rolled.</i>

    When <strong>Winter Day</strong> drew to a close,panies that had grudgingly distributed bonuses made a surprising discovery - their workers had poured that money back into the economy. <i>Businesses reported unprecedented sales as people spent far more freely than usual, their bonus payments funding everything from theater tickets to holiday decorations.</i>

    <i>This unexpected economic boost changed corporate attitudes toward the holiday. Even the most resistantpanies began to recognize </i><strong><i>Winter Day''s</i></strong><i> potential, seeing how increased consumer spending offset their bonus payments. What had seemed like an unwee obligation transformed into a catalyst for economic growth.</i>

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