บท 79: The Mob's Dream
(Anubis Flameworth 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 dollars in just five days, blowing "The Demonfather's" success 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 flanking me. The receptionist greeted us with a plastic 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 plastered 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 "comics." They're growing in popularity 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 discomfort, 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 calculating. "Everything's fine, Mr. Flameworth," 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 plan 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 plans. I had my sights set on opening manga stores across the kingdom, maybe starting a record label. 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 revelation 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 contemplation, I finally spoke. "Mr. Flameworth, 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, uncertainty lacing his words.
A calm smile played 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 plan everything out properly. Rush it, and we risk a subpar product." I paused, letting my words sink in. "I understand your eagerness, Mr. Flameworth, and I intend to honor our agreement. You'll have your role when the time comes. 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 acceptance. "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. Flameworth," 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 glad 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, glancing at my watch. Dealing with mob bosses was not how I'd planned to spend my morning.
But before I could even think about relaxing, 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 to complain now that their former stars had skyrocketed to fame with "Lord of the Rings"?
***
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บท 80: Reshaping the industry
(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 glasses, 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 blazes 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 manipulate 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 dollars 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 slammed 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 Darkflame, 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 popularity, 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 dollars 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 success, 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 dollars, 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 ablaze.
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 noncommittal.
Linda pouted, nudging him playfully. "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 – 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 becoming 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 – 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.
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