บท 181: Always winning
(3rd Person POV)
Hellfire Network's cartoons sent shockwaves through both Empirica and Anatolia. Even the staunchest Empirican critics had to acknowledge that these cartoons outshone Mr. Mouse's 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?" Dutch asked, leaning back in his squeaky desk chair. "Got to admit, they're actually hilarious. 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 Naruto and Dragon Ball 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 these complex storylines and character development. Cartoons are just pure entertainment."
"Exactly!" His friend gestured with a half-eaten slice of pizza. "Comparing them is like comparing apples and oranges. They're completely different styles."
"Let's be real," the third student chuckled, "Walter Mouse is just salty because anime's stealing his thunder."
This sentiment echoed across Empirica. While a few die-hards still accused Arthur of cultural theft, public opinion had shifted dramatically in his favor.
The fallout hit Mouse Entertainment hard. Their stock price tumbled several points as investors reacted to Walter's self-destructive crusade. Behind closed boardroom doors, directors whispered about replacement, their patience with the founder's jealousy-driven vendetta wearing thin.
Facing potential replacement, Walter desperately tried placating his board of directors, making grand promises about competing with Hellfire's cartoons.
Then Hellfire dropped another bombshell - the announcement of two new dedicated channels. "Cartoon Network" would launch within weeks, promising round-the-clock cartoon entertainment. Its sister channel, "Anime Network," would follow months later.
The mere announcement sent tremors through the entertainment industry. Mr. Mouse's monopoly on animation was about to face its first real challenger - a entire network dedicated to cartoons.
The only silver lining for competing networks was that these channels would require subscription to the new "cable service," a joint venture between Hellfire and Waves Corporation.
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 own company.
Headlines blazed across media outlets: "Mouse Entertainment Ousts Founder: Walter Mouse Loses Control of His Legacy"
"Walter Mouse holds Arthur Pendragon responsible for all his troubles. He filed a lawsuit against Hellfire Inc. in court, but his case was swiftly rejected, leaving him with no legal recourse."
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 played out perfectly - perhaps even better than he'd planned.
The cable requirement for Cartoon Network hadn't been his first choice, but the system mission demanded it. Still, he'd achieved his primary goal. Whether viewers accessed 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 Hellfire Studio's development.
Bruce Lee's films had ignited a martial arts fever across Horn Kingdom and its neighbors. The Anatolian audience couldn't get enough, and Lee's confidence had grown accordingly. 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 Amon Oblivion 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 Horn Kingdom Theatre for "Game of Death's" premiere. The red carpet buzzed with excitement as cameras flashed and fans pressed against the barriers.
Arthur arrived in his signature black suit, drawing appreciative murmurs from the crowd. Firfel and Vivienne flanked him, their presence adding to the glamour. Old Rocky 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 popular actor jump into directing. Is Lee your new favorite or something?"
Arthur chuckled softly. "I just see directing potential in him." He stretched comfortably 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 playing on his lips.
The theatre lights dimmed gradually, hushing the excited murmurs of the crowd. Only the soft rustle of clothing and occasional 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, magnetic screen presence.
As the film progressed, Arthur found himself relaxing. Lee had indeed delivered. The audience leaned forward in their seats, completely 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 particularly 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 Jackie Chan.
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 dollars in its first week. While the martial arts focus and Bruce Lee's directorial debut limited its appeal in Empirica and Evros, the film still pulled respectable millions from those regions.
By the time it reached its ceiling of 139 million dollars, Horn Kingdom's attention had already shifted to the upcoming 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 popular actors, who had been encouraging voter participation on Hellfire Network. At the voting booth, he carefully marked his ballot for RUP, maintaining his public facade. He couldn't risk RUP's intelligence network discovering his true allegiance, even as he secretly hoped for EPA's victory.
Initial estimates suggested a modest turnout - perhaps two to three million voters from Horn's eleven million population. Most citizens typically remained too occupied with work and daily life to participate.
But election day brought surprises. Five million voters turned out, and when the results came in, EPA's landslide victory stunned the kingdom's elite. Media outlets scrambled to explain 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 upcoming projects - particularly the internet technology he'd retrieved from the DB. 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.
บท 182: First Follower
(3rd Person POV)
Dragon Ball's overwhelming success in both manga and anime had unlocked new possibilities, including Arthur's access to internet technologies from the DB.
The private dining room at the top of Hellscape Center 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, Horn Kingdom's capital sparkled below.
Valerie tried to follow Arthur's explanation about interconnected communication technology, her brow furrowing slightly. "A technology to connect people... It's certainly ambitious," she nodded, clearly lost but maintaining her composure. "While I don't fully grasp the specifics, the Economic Prosperity Alliance will support any initiative that could boost our kingdom's economy."
Arthur smiled at her confusion. "Trust me, this will revolutionize how our kingdom communicates. The dwarven nations will be green with envy."
Valerie laughed, 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 is complete, 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 glass.
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 his composure. "When did they start?"
"Right after the election results."
Arthur nodded, his mind already turning to the Hellsing organization he'd established for precisely such situations. "Don't worry," he assured her, his voice carrying quiet confidence. "I'll ensure your safety."
***
(Sylwen 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 glass 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 played 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 apartment complex where Valerie's party members lived.
On a nearby rooftop, three figures waited, each wearing plain white masks that somehow seemed more unnerving than elaborate 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, young lady," 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 his laughter.
"My deepest apologies, seniors!" I bowed quickly, feeling like a scolded apprentice.
The masked figures' laughter 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."
"Relax, 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 here compromises 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 mana - far surpassing Arthur's own reserves of two hundred thousand.
Creating such powerful clones required a massive reservoir of power. Using the Devourer Ring's absorption abilities combined with the {Bracelet of Lifeblood Veins'} transportation power, Arthur had embarked on a world-spanning hunt for magical energy.
His search led him to the Glacia Expanse, where the Devourer Ring gorged itself on the thick magical mana saturating the frozen wasteland. Behind its massive ice walls stood the mysterious "Anus Gate," a portal to the Netherworld 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 the complicated nature of its transportation - requiring a three-second passage through the ethereal Lifeblood Veins 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)
Angel Theatre's velvet seats and gilded walls sparkled under crystal chandeliers as John Joseph Nicholson fidgeted in his front-row seat, just behind the film's stars. The theatre's grandeur only emphasized how out of place he felt.
His heart raced with anticipation. Finally, after years of struggle, he'd landed a role alongside superstar Lewis Light. 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 mattress laid directly on the stained floorboards.
His walls told the story of his dreams - carefully preserved posters of "Harry Potter," "Lord of the Rings," and "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" covered the peeling wallpaper. At their center hung a grainy newspaper photo of Arthur Pendragon, carefully cut out and preserved despite its yellowing edges.
John collapsed 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 Forbes 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 Sun God, Moon God, even the Forgefather 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't compete with classical beauty.
The entertainment industry had no place 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 thump-thump of his upstairs neighbor's morning routine.
Then came the dreaded sound:
Bang! Bang!
"When are you paying your rent, John? It's been weeks!" his landlord'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 his last 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: [You gained 10+ divine points!]
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
200+ การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
139 หินพลัง 
ความคิดเห็นย่อย