บท 5: That's bank for you
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 planning to make my first movie," I explained, 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 available, maybe other studios in this city would be willing to help me."
Oh, how wrong I was.
Hours later, I trudged back to the palace, empty-handed and thoroughly deflated. 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 dollars now, but what if I started my own film production company? With my royal identity (useless as it seemed today), I could probably secure a loan of around 200,000 dollars.
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 plan B - this was the plan 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 place, which looked like a tornado had a personal vendetta against organization. As I explained my grand plan, George's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"What? Arthur, you're... you're borrowing 200,000 dollars 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 particularly tricky equation. "We may have our colored camera, still in development - but even if our film does have colors, it couldn't guarantee its success! It could be a failure and you'll be bankrupt!"
I felt a bit speechless at that comment. Leave it to George to point out the glaringly obvious flaw in my plan. 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't complain too much."
As we made our way through the cluttered streets of Ferland City, George kept shooting me worried glances. "Arthur, are you sure about this? I mean, 200,000 dollars 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) later, 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 blame 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 succeeded 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 explain my business plan, 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 dollars 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, slapping 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 me committed 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 very large, 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?
บท 6: Exiled
With 200k burning a hole in my pocket, it was time to set the wheels in motion. First order of business? Finding a place 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 particularly 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 place is great for 500 dollars."
George's eyebrows shot up. "Now that you say it like that, 500 dollars seems to be a steal for such a place..."
"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 fledgling company.
After much deliberation (and a few shots of liquid courage), I decided to name our company "Hellfire Studios". I even managed to cobble together a logo - a stylized flame 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 new company name and promises of creative freedom, they latched 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 plan," 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 dollars at the Ferland Bank!?"
My father's voice, Luke Morningstar, boomed through the room like a thunderclap. 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 slammed 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 place. Leave this palace." 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 one last 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 to come knocking on the palace 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 palace 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 net, 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.
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
200+ การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
145 หินพลัง 
ความคิดเห็นย่อย