(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 just laughed. "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, flashing the hand sign James had been using throughout the concert. "James deserves the money - so we buy the tickets!"
The reporters exchanged glances, realizing they'd underestimated the depth of James' impact. This wasn't just a fan base - it was a movement.
As more fans echoed similar sentiments, it became clear that James Blaze 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 Blaze's concert, newspapers plastered their front pages with eye-catching headlines:
"James Blaze 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 Blaze 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 popularity 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 resemblance to demonic horns. This name struck a chord with the demon population, who felt the sign somehow represented them.
Within days, the hand sign's popularity exploded across the Horn Kingdom. Kids flashed 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 flashing the sign, embracing it as part of the local culture.
At a music store, an elf approached the cashier. "Is the James Blaze album available?"
The cashier nodded and pointed to a specific section.
The elf smiled, flashed the "Devil's Horn" and said, "Thanks, man."
The cashier returned the gesture, "No problem!"
This simple exchange illustrated how deeply the sign had penetrated everyday interactions. It had become 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 alarm bells within the Solarus Church. Their followers, initially caught up in the trend, now found themselves at the center of a growing controversy.
In a bold move, the Solarus Church in the Horn Kingdom called a press conference, inviting reporters from various media outlets.
The human bishop, his face etched with concern, declared, "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 Solarus, 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 claims quickly made their way to the front pages of newspapers, leaving many Solarus 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 Solarus Church's conspiracy theory was met with derision from other faiths and non-human races.
An elf, reading the news, burst into laughter. "Evil plot by Arthur Morningstar? Give me a break. This Religion of Solarus is so paranoid!"
Even humans of the Solarus Faith found the claims absurd. Many thought, "What could that infamous exiled prince Arthur be plotting? He can't even conjure a fireball!"
Instead of alarming people, the Solarus 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 Solarus believers.
The streets of Horn Kingdom became a silent battleground of gestures. Solarus followers, caught between their faith and the popular trend, watched as others flashed the "Devil's Horn" with increasing frequency, often accompanied by mischievous grins.
This backfire highlighted the growing disconnect between the Solarus Church's rigid stance and the evolving cultural landscape.
What was intended as a warning had instead turned into a catalyst, further popularizing the very symbol they sought to suppress.
***
(Arthur's POV)
The sales chart for James Blaze'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 applause. "James, you did an amazing job," I said, then nodded to Leo, "You also did great marketing James effectively."
Both of them flashed embarrassed smiles. James, humble as ever, said, "Boss, if not for the songs you composed 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 popularized 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 glance that clearly said, 'Here we go again with his sayings'.
I chuckled. Couldn't blame 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 plant.