Lord of Entertainment-Chapter 274: Mentor and breaking news

(3rd Person POV)

Time passed quickly, and several days had gone by since Arthur and his subordinates signed the magical contracts. Now, Yoda was preparing to teach Arthur's subordinates about combat and the Force.

However, before he could truly train them, he needed to test them—especially their emotions.

Inside Hellsing's secret facility, Yoda stood before a group of Hellsing members, including Sylwen, Champion Lance, Jier, Burt, and others.

Among them were also Arthur's clones, disguised as regular Hellsing operatives. They weren't just there to blend in—they were Arthur's direct connection to the training, allowing him to learn the Force firsthand through them.

Jier eyed the small figure standing before them, skepticism clear on his face. Like many before him, he had underestimated Yoda's presence.

He leaned slightly toward Lance but spoke loud enough for the room to hear. "So this is the 'master' Arthur told us about? The one who's supposed to train us?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Heh, I don't think he can teach us anything at all. He looks so weak. I don't even sense a fraction of power from him."

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Burt, standing nearby, crossed his arms and scoffed. "Yeah, even Arthur has more magic than this so-called master. Signing that magical contract wasn't worth it."

The other former champion team members murmured in agreement, some openly mocking Yoda, their confidence clear.

Lance's expression darkened. He didn't understand Arthur's decision either, but unlike the others, he wouldn't openly disrespect his leader's choices.

His voice cut through the room, firm and commanding. "Enough. Don't speak so disrespectfully behind the boss's back."

Jier and the others immediately fell silent, sensing the weight in his tone.

Their reactions spoke volumes—they still didn't fully recognize Arthur as their leader.

Lance looked around, his sharp gaze sweeping over them. His voice was serious. "I know many of you don't see Arthur as your boss. But understand this—Arthur is Lord Dionysus's chosen servant. He was fated for this role. His mission is to take over the world—not through war, but through influence. Through entertainment. And this organization exists for that very purpose."

Jier and the others exchanged glances, momentarily speechless.

Meanwhile, Sylwen remained silent, watching the exchange unfold.

After months of working with Lance and the others, she had learned the truth—they were cultists.

The so-called Cult of Dionysus.

And more than that, Arthur himself was part of it.

A high-ranking member, no less.

It had been a shock when she first discovered it, months ago. Arthur had never disclosed it to her.

She had learned, through her own means, that Lord Dionysus's plan was for Arthur to inherit the throne of the Demon King.

Suddenly, Arthur's ambitions made perfect sense.

His desire for power, his plans to one day become a king, and his determination to reshape the world—it was all part of a grander design.

And she would do whatever it took to help him achieve it.

She didn't care about Dionysus.

She didn't care about the cult's mission.

Her loyalty wasn't to some god.

Her loyalty belonged to Arthur.

Despite Lance's attempts to recruit her into the cult, despite him being a former champion of Solarus, now a spy within the Solarus Faith, she had never accepted.

She had no interest in following a god.

Her only allegiance would always be to Arthur.

A sudden cough echoed through the room, snapping Sylwen from her thoughts and halting Lance's conversation with his men.

All eyes turned to the source—Yoda.

His small frame stood firm, his expression calm yet piercing as he observed the group before him.

"Emotions..." Yoda began, his voice steady. "Just from this first meeting—I sense that the lot of you cannot control them."

A low chuckle broke the silence.

"Heh, we can't control our emotions?" Burt smirked, arms crossed. "This little guy is so pretentious."

Yoda merely shook his head, sighing.

"Arrogance," he said, his tone almost disappointed. "Full of arrogance. That is the reason why many fall. Not because of lack of strength, but because they are slaves to their emotions. A true master is not ruled by pride, but in control of himself."

Jier and the others snickered, unimpressed.

Even if Yoda's words made sense, they refused to accept such lessons from someone so small, so unassuming.

Even Lance, usually composed, found himself frowning slightly at Yoda's assessment.

Yoda, of course, sensed it all.

His gaze flickered toward Lance, studying him carefully.

There was something about him—a presence, a potential that caught Yoda's attention.

Unlike the others, Lance did not let his emotions fully control him, though he was still prone to impatience.

And then there was Sylwen.

Unlike the others, she remained utterly composed, showing little to no reaction to Yoda's words.

A faint smile crossed Yoda's lips.

Interesting.

He decided to test them further.

With measured steps, he began speaking to the group, his words calm, deliberate, and provoking.

—

Yoda's words cut through the room like a slow-moving blade, drawing out their impatience with every passing second.

He spoke of discipline, restraint, control, all while deliberately stretching the conversation longer and longer.

At first, his audience listened out of curiosity.

Then, they listened out of confusion.

Then frustration.

And soon, irritation.

For over half an hour, Yoda did nothing but talk, standing in place, giving no physical demonstration, no techniques, no training.

And for Lance, it was too much.

His jaw clenched, his patience finally snapping.

"Are you here to teach us something, or just here to try and annoy us?" Lance said, his voice laced with clear frustration.

Yoda sighed, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Young man, patience you must learn, if my ways you wish to know."

Lance's frown deepened. "It's been half an hour!"

Before Yoda could respond, Jier lost it completely.

"This is ridiculous!" Jier growled. "If this little guy is really worthy to teach us, then he should be able to block my attack!"

Without warning, he lunged forward, his fist aiming straight for Yoda.

—

And then—

Yoda vanished.

Or at least, that's how it looked.

With a barely noticeable shift in movement, he sidestepped the attack effortlessly, his small frame moving like a breeze.

Jier's fist struck nothing but air.

Before anyone could even react, Yoda twisted his body gracefully, and with a single movement, tapped Jier's wrist with his three-fingered hand—

A simple, almost insignificant motion—

Until Jier was suddenly flipped off his feet.

In one fluid motion, his own momentum had been used against him, sending him crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.

The entire room fell into stunned silence.

Jier groaned, blinking up in confusion. He had no idea how he ended up on the floor.

Yoda, completely unbothered, straightened his robe and looked down at him.

"Much to learn, you still have," he said, his tone calm yet firm.

Everyone watching, even Lance, stared in disbelief.

The little creature had dodged an attack from a trained fighter without breaking a sweat—and countered effortlessly.

For the first time, doubt crept into their minds.

Perhaps... Arthur was right to call him Master Yoda.

***

While Arthur was focused on his upcoming movie project, a sudden and shocking news report spread across the world, shaking global markets and political landscapes alike.

"Majority of kingdoms agree to establish their own independent currencies!"

This headline dominated every major news outlet, triggering immediate debate and speculation.

For centuries, the world had relied on one universal currency—the Global Dollar. It had been the standard of trade, economy, and international business, ensuring stability between nations.

But now, that era was coming to an abrupt end.

The announcement sent shockwaves through the financial world, and news stations began inviting economic analysts and financial experts to discuss the potential consequences of this monumental shift.

On one such news broadcast, a renowned financial analyst broke it down for the public:

"If nations move away from the Global Dollar and establish their own currencies, we could see extreme fluctuations in trade and exchange rates. Some countries with weaker economies might suffer from hyperinflation, while others with stronger economies might dominate regional trade markets."

Another expert weighed in, adding:

"Investors will be watching closely. Depending on how this transition is managed, the Global Dollar could significantly decrease in value. If that happens, the nations still holding onto it might face severe economic instability."

Meanwhile, ordinary citizens across the world were left in confusion and concern.

"What will happen to the dollar?"

"Will its value crash?"

"How will this affect our savings?"

Questions flooded the media, causing panic in financial districts and stock markets.

And amid the chaos, many pointed their fingers at Arthur.

His record-breaking film, The Two Towers, surpassing $1 billion at the box office, had been the catalyst—an undeniable trigger that forced governments to reconsider the structure of global finance.

Of course, rational minds understood that Arthur wasn't to blame.

The real reason for this shift was consumer spending habits—the sheer amount of money pouring into entertainment rather than traditional industries had exposed the weaknesses of the Global Dollar system.

But that didn't stop his enemies in the media from turning him into the villain of the story.

Jealous of his entertainment empire, these critics seized the opportunity to attack him, painting him as the man responsible for economic collapse.

After all, they rarely had a chance to go after Arthur—his success was too overwhelming, his influence too great.

But now?

Now, they had their narrative.