Chapter 28: Impact

Chapter 28: Impact

(Arthur's POV)

Just an hour after "The Demonfather" premiered, I find myself inundated with requests from major distributors and companies. It's a dizzying change from being the "trashy prince" everyone ignored.

I decide to meet with Louis Bell, a representative from Impact, a famous electronics company known for their cars, cameras, projectors, and vinyl record players. We're at "Underworld Cuisine," one of the city's most expensive restaurants. The irony of negotiating a deal for my demon mob film in a place called "Underworld Cuisine" isn't lost on me.

Louis, dressed in an expensive suit with equally pricey glasses, leans forward. "Mr. Morningstar," he begins, his tone a mix of condescension and forced politeness, "the colored camera you have isn't really groundbreaking. There have been colored pictures before, but the technology has been... limited."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, they want to downplay my achievement.

He continues, "Since there's nothing truly new about the technology, we're simply asking to license the patent for a reasonable price." He names a figure that's insultingly low, barely more than pocket change for a company like Impact.

I have to fight to keep from laughing out loud. Instead, I maintain a neutral expression, channeling my inner Michael Corleone. If there's one thing I learned from directing "The Demonfather" - or rather, adapting "The Godfather" - it's the power of a good poker face.

"I'm afraid I can't accept such an offer," I say calmly, watching Louis's expression carefully. "You see, Mr. Bell, while colored pictures may not be new, our technology represents a significant leap forward. It's not just about still images - we've created a way to capture full-color moving pictures. That's unprecedented."

I finish my pitch, but Louis's face remains impassive. Clearly, he's not easily impressed.

"You see, Mr. Morningstar," Louis begins, his tone patronizing, "we have to consider various factors for the production of these colored cameras. The manufacturing cost, the marketing, and of course, since it's a colored camera, the price would be significantly higher than black-and-white models." He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "We'd be risking a considerable amount of money, and we don't even know if these colored cameras will sell. So what I've offered - the licensing rights, the royalties? It's already very reasonable."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes again. Instead, I nod along, feigning understanding. Sometimes, you have to let them talk themselves out.

"Whether it'll sell or not isn't the question, Mr. Bell," I counter, my voice calm but firm. "I'm confident it will sell and become the new standard for the picture industry."

Louis strokes his chin, a hint of curiosity breaking through his skepticism. "How so?"

I take a sip of wine, allowing a small smile to play on my lips. "Didn't you see the colored film I've recorded with my camera?" I ask, savoring the moment. "Just an hour ago, this film premiered and received a ten-minute standing ovation. This film will be the best marketing for the colored camera because it's made such a strong impression."

"Hmm..." Louis raises an eyebrow, but then drops a bombshell. "I'm sorry, Mr. Morningstar, but I haven't actually seen the film you made with that camera of yours."

I nearly choke on my wine. "You haven't seen it?"

I arrive at the festival, ready to get this over with, only to be met with an unexpected obstacle.

"I'm sorry, but we're sold out for the next screening of this film tonight," the receptionist says apologetically. "Perhaps you'd like to reserve a ticket for tomorrow's screening?"

I blink in surprise. "Already sold out? The film just premiered an hour ago."

The receptionist gives me a sheepish smile. "I apologize, but the film is unexpectedly popular..."

"Must be because it's the first colored film," I mutter under my breath. Sighing, I nod. "Alright. Save me a ticket for tomorrow's screening."

It's inconvenient, but what choice do I have? I need to see this film if I'm going to negotiate with that exiled prince effectively.

The next day, I arrive at the theater to find it packed. I have to admit, I'm impressed by the turnout.

Clearly, the novelty of a colored film is a powerful draw.

As I settle into my seat, I can't help but think that even if the story is mediocre, the colored aspect alone will attract attention. Maybe that exiled prince was right about the colored camera being the next big thing - but that was always predictable.

I only haggled with him to save money. As president of the Impact Electronics branch in the Anatolia continent, it's my job to maximize profits and minimize risks.

The lights dim, and "The Demonfather" begins. I watch with little expectation, still convinced that the color is the film's only real selling point.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Three hours later, I leave the theater in a daze, my mind reeling. This film... it's not just good. It's phenomenal. Possibly the best film I've ever seen.

Suddenly, I remember why I'm here. Arthur's request. I glance at my watch and curse under my breath. I need to move fast.

As I hurry out of the theater, my mind is racing. I need to make Arthur an offer he can't refuse. Because if I don't, someone else will. And I'll be damned if I let this opportunity slip through my fingers.

The irony isn't lost on me. I came here expecting to humor a delusional prince. Instead, I've just witnessed the future of cinema. And now, I'm the one desperate to make a deal.