Lord of Entertainment C352 Tactics working

(3rd Person POV)

At the House of Fellwing, Ferdinand reclined in his study, having just completed a pile of paperwork. He took a long sip from his crystal glass—Walesian red, expensive and refined. The deep aroma filled the room, and for a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the quiet pride of a nobleman at ease.

Then the telephone rang.

It was an elegant piece, built in black lacquered steel and enchanted brass—standard for noble homes in the modern age.

Ferdinand leaned forward, picked up the receiver, and answered, “Who is this?”

A deep voice on the other end cut straight to the point. “Is it true?”

Ferdinand narrowed his eyes. “What? And who the hell are you?”

“It’s me. Shawn Darkspire.”

His expression softened, just slightly. That name carried weight—Shawn was the head of the Darkspire Family, one of the Three Major Noble Houses.

“Oh. It's you,” Ferdinand said, voice cool. “What made you call?”

Shawn wasted no time. “I’ve been hearing some... things. Rumors, really.”

A pause. Then, pointedly:
“That the Fellwing family isn’t doing too well.”

Ferdinand's brow twitched. “Not doing well? What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone sharpened with offense.

“Word around town is that House Fellwing has fallen out of grace. Financial trouble, perhaps.” Shawn’s tone was steady, casual, but edged with amusement.

“As your friend, I thought I’d check in.”

Ferdinand's jaw tightened. His eye twitched slightly, a vein rising on his forehead.

If Shawn hadn’t been another pillar of nobility, he might’ve cursed him on the spot.

He forced a cough, smoothing his tone.
“What kind of nonsense is that? My house is thriving. We’re doing better than ever.”

He straightened his back and added, “In fact, I just completed several new investments in profitable sectors—including film. I’m even stepping in as a producer for Titan Pictures.”

There was silence on the line, until Shawn replied with a voice full of mock sympathy, “I admire it, Ferdinand. Truly. Lying through your teeth like that—classic demon resilience. You’ve inherited our devilish pride well.”

Ferdinand blinked, stunned. ‘What the—?’

“But come on,” Shawn continued smoothly.
“We’re not living in the dark centuries anymore. Demons don’t need to lie to friends.”

Another pause.

“I heard your daughter can’t even go shopping with her friends these days. That must be tough.”

That was the final straw.

“Are you trying to start a fight, Shawn Darkspire!?” Ferdinand growled, rising to his feet.

But Shawn’s voice remained calm and unshaken.
“There’s no shame in struggling, Ferdinand. If you need help, you only need to ask.”

Ferdinand gritted his teeth so hard his jaw trembled.

“I hope you spend the rest of your afterlife in the most luxurious cloud in Heaven!” he snapped—and slammed the receiver down.

Silence returned to the study.

Except now, the wine didn’t taste quite as sweet.

Just then, the telephone rang again.

Ferdinand scowled but forced on a polite tone as he picked up the receiver. “Yes? Who is this?”

A familiar voice responded, firm and composed:
“It’s Rey Ebonclaw.”

The head of the Ebonclaw Family.

Ferdinand's eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh? What brings you to call?”

His voice remained cool, expecting a dignified conversation.

Instead—
“I heard your family’s having financial trouble. Is it true?”

A vein pulsed in Ferdinand’s forehead.

“Excuse me?” he replied icily.

But Rey continued, echoing the same irritating tone Shawn had just used.
Ferdinand had enough.

“Go fuck yourself,” he growled, and slammed the receiver down.

He barely had time to sigh before the phone rang again.

This time, he snatched it off the hook, voice seething: “Who is it now!?”

A pause—then a voice filled with quiet authority:
“Ferdinand... it’s me. Magnus.”

Ferdinand froze.

His tone instantly shifted. “Y-Your Majesty... what a surprise. What made you call?”

There was a pause on the line, heavy with weight.

Then the King of Horn Kingdom said grimly:
“Ferdinand
 we have a problem. A big one.”

Ferdinand’s brow unknotted slightly, but the seriousness in his eyes only deepened.

---

Hellfire Park – Chairman’s Office

Arthur sat back comfortably on the velvet sofa, legs crossed, a calm expression on his face. Across from him, Mary took a slow sip of the tea he had just served.

‘This tea
 it’s not just refreshing. It’s invigorating,’ Mary mused. Her mana stirred lightly beneath her skin. ‘What kind of leaves did he brew? This isn't ordinary...’

Arthur broke her thoughts with a faint, knowing smile. “So
 I assume your visit isn’t just for the tea?”

His tone was pleasant, but his gaze was sharp.

Mary met his eyes and smiled sweetly as she placed the teacup gently on the table.

“I’m here on behalf of my father
 and a few of his noble friends.”

She added with a trace of amusement, “They sent me because I know you. And because I’m the public face of Hellfire Bank.”

Arthur’s lips curved. “And what noble favor do they require this time?”

Mary let out a soft laugh, almost embarrassed.
“They want you to
 lift their credit limits.”

She raised a brow.

“Without repayment, of course.”

Arthur's smile faded.

“Do I look like a charity?” His voice had cooled significantly.

Mary shivered slightly at his shift in tone, though she tried to mask it with composure. ‘Why
 does it feel cold all of a sudden? He’s just a mere filmmaker. A director
 right?’

Still, she nodded. “I figured you’d say no.”

Arthur leaned forward slightly. “It’s all clearly stated in the contract they signed. Pay the balance on time—or face penalties. Once overdue, the charges apply immediately.”

Mary sighed. “Hundreds of thousands of global dollars
”

Her voice lowered.

“It won’t be easy to repay that kind of debt.”

Arthur chuckled. “And yet they spent it so easily. Amazing how money flows freely when it’s not due.”

He met her eyes.

“You do know there's collateral involved, right?”

Mary nodded solemnly. “Yes. If they don’t pay, then something of equal value will be taken in return.”

Arthur reclined back, voice calm and calculated.
“And nobles, royals
 they tend to sit on quite a few ‘valuable’ things.”

There was a silence between them.

Then Mary tilted her head, lips curling in admiration. “You know
 I’m genuinely impressed by your tactics.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, amused.
“Oh?”

Mary let out a soft chuckle, her gaze sharp.
“You turned credit cards into a status symbol for noblewomen—the wives and daughters of nobles. And now they’re addicted to it.”

She crossed her legs elegantly and continued, “You tailored the spending options too—fashion boutiques, fine dining, luxury salons
 all the things women of status adore.”

She gave Arthur a wry smile.

“You knew most noblemen wouldn’t bother paying off debts themselves, so you targeted the household decision-makers.”

Arthur remained quiet, his smile unreadable.

“Then there’s the design,” she added, now facing him.

“Each card with its own elegant look and tiered limit
 it’s not just a payment tool anymore. It’s a badge. A ranking system. And these noblewomen love their ranks.”

Arthur leaned back, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

Mary’s voice lowered slightly, laced with amusement.

“And if that wasn’t enough—” she grinned, “you publicly humiliated Ferdinand Fellwing on television.”

She gave a soft laugh, but her eyes were serious.
“Now the entire kingdom, from commoners to court, knows he can’t pay off his balance.”

She stood, smoothing her dress, her smile returning. “And because the contract permits Hellfire to ‘subtly notify’ the public of defaulted accounts
 technically, you didn’t even break the law.”

Arthur chuckled quietly. ‘Sharp. The princess really sees through everything.’

Mary turned and stepped toward the door.
“I’ll go inform my father that you refused their little request. He’ll know what that means—he has no choice but to offer collateral.” With that, she walked out.

Arthur stayed seated, eyes drifting toward the fireplace. A faint smile remained on his lips.

‘They better pay up,’ he thought. ‘Otherwise, they can forget about getting their hands on the Hellphone.’

He chuckled softly to himself, reaching into his coat and pulling out a sleek, gold-trimmed device — the latest prototype of the Hellphone.

After months of tireless R&D, the device had evolved from a bulky, colorless prototype into a polished, flip-style phone with a vibrant colored display — all based on Arthur’s blueprint and brought to life through the advanced capabilities of the «Creator’s Realm».

This very device—destined to be the world’s first phone—would soon hit the market. But at launch, only those with credit cards in good standing would be allowed to purchase it.

That was the catch.

Only after the second week would Hellfire allow others—those without credit cards—to buy the standard edition. But by then, the prestige would already be claimed.

Then there was the noble edition.

Crafted with premium materials, gilded edges, and a luxurious aesthetic. Only those in good credit standing would qualify for early access.

Arthur’s gaze sharpened. ‘If Magnus, Ferdinand, and the others delay their payments
 they won’t even make it onto the reservation list. Even if someone else buys it for them, it won’t matter. The SIM and the registered Hellphone ID are permanently bound to the original buyer — no transfers allowed.’

Sure, they could still buy a phone later with cash
 but for nobles and royals?

Being left behind was the real disgrace.

He flipped the phone shut with a crisp snap, his smile deepening.

‘Status has a new name now — and it’s Hellphone.’