Chapter 79: The Mob’s Dream

Chapter 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."

"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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