Lord of Entertainment-Chapter 292: Party conclusion

Azazel sighed quietly, disappointment flickering in his expression. "That's a shame. I was hoping maybe he'd come around..."

Arthur looked at him for a moment, then said with a low chuckle, "He came around, alright—just not in the way he wanted."

Azazel raised a brow, curious, but didn't press further. Something told him there was more to it than Arthur was letting on.

"Mr. Pendragon! Remember me?" a loud, cheerful voice suddenly called out. Arthur and Azazel turned toward the source.

A chubby half-demon waddled over, cheeks round, brows thick, and skin with an unmistakable oily sheen. Arthur squinted. Something about his slick demeanor was oddly familiar.

"Do I know you?" Arthur asked, raising a brow.

"Hahaha! Mr. Pendragon must be joking," the fat demon laughed, clearly flattered yet hopeful. Seeing Arthur's genuinely puzzled expression, he added with a touch of helplessness, "I'm the bank manager from Ferland Bank! The one who approved your 200,000-dollar loan!"

Arthur blinked, then the memory clicked. "Ah... you."

The half-demon grinned widely. "I'm Jeremiah Mammon—now the Senior Vice President, actually. Not from the main Mammon family, just a distant branch. But still, I've climbed up since then!"

"Is that so?" Arthur said flatly.

Jeremiah gave a slightly awkward chuckle before straightening his collar. "Mr. Pendragon, I would be honored if you entrusted your fortune to Ferland Bank. We offer—"

"I remember," Arthur cut in, his tone colder. "I remember how Ferland Bank suddenly pushed for repayment far earlier than the agreed date. I haven't forgotten that."

Jeremiah froze. The smile on his face stiffened. "Ah, well... you see, that... that wasn't really my decision... there were... circumstances..."

"Doesn't matter," Arthur replied calmly. "I don't place my assets with institutions that twist terms when it suits them."

Seeing no way to salvage the conversation, Jeremiah gave a frustrated huff and walked off, muttering under his breath. Arthur just watched him disappear into the crowd.

Azazel turned toward him, a bit concerned. "Are you sure about that? Offending Ferland Bank isn't exactly a small matter. They handle billions in assets. You might need them one day."

Arthur chuckled. "No need. I'm planning to open a bank of my own."

Azazel blinked in surprise. "You're opening a bank? That's not something you just start casually. What would your bank offer that the big ones don't already?"

Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek card with a faint glow to its edges. He handed it over. "Take a look."

Azazel examined the card curiously. The design was minimal but elegant, with a string of numbers and a name printed across it: "Arthur Pendragon."

"What's this?" he asked, flipping it over.

"It's a debit card," Arthur said with a small grin. "I can't explain all the features yet, but let's just say this little card will be one of the core strengths that'll eventually leave the major banks in the dust."

Azazel stared at it thoughtfully, still skeptical. 'A card like this... and he thinks it can compete with the biggest banks in the world?'

But then again, this was Arthur—nothing about him was ever ordinary.

---

(Joseph Jackson POV)

I pulled my Fire of Hell car to a stop near Morningstar Square, engine humming softly before I killed it and stepped out. The city was alive, as it always was—buzzing, breathing, moving forward with a rhythm of its own. I walked into the crowd, letting the noise and chaos blur the heaviness sitting in my chest.

Whenever I felt hopeless, this was where I came. Watching people go about their lives—working, laughing, moving with purpose despite whatever burdens they carried—gave me a strange sense of peace. No matter what pain I held inside, life didn't stop. Neither did they.

My eyes drifted to the massive billboards above the buildings. Ads for products, upcoming movies, glowing faces of celebrities—people I used to watch with envy, now standing as symbols of success I could only dream of.

Frederick's face flashed across a music ad. Queen was topping the charts again. Then came the flashing screen from a nearby TV store, showing Tom & Jerry, drawing small crowds of kids and passersby. Another reminder—it was all Hellfire. Their reach was everywhere.

People walked by in clothes from Demonfather, headbands from Naruto, or shirts with Nirvana or Queen logos. Everywhere I turned, Hellfire was there. Unavoidable. Unshakable.

I leaned back against the door of my car and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of flame magic. I took a slow drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs before I exhaled into the wind.

"Guess Her Highness didn't hesitate to toss me away," I muttered bitterly under my breath. "Am I really that worthless to her... to my own family?"

I watched the smoke curl and vanish, just like my place in Lucy's agency. When the cigarette burned down, I dropped it to the ground and crushed it beneath my heel.

My gaze turned upward again. More billboards. More Hellfire. The music charts—Nirvana at number one, Queen holding second. Everywhere I looked, Arthur Pendragon's empire loomed like a shadow over the world.

"Maybe Hellfire isn't such a bad idea after all," I said, gritting my teeth. "If she doesn't want me, then I'll carve my own path." I clenched my fists tightly. "I'll be famous. I'll rise higher than anyone expects. I'll even surpass Leonardo in fame if it kills me."

His name left a bitter taste in my mouth—Leonardo, my golden-boy brother. The one they always compared me to. The one whose shadow I could never escape.

The pressure I carry from constantly being compared to Leonardo—it's suffocating. Acting, music, charisma—he had it all. And because of that, the more people praised him, the more I grew to hate him... more than I ever wanted to admit.

—

(3rd Person POV)

Arthur continued mingling among the guests, sharing a light conversation with Apollonia and Azazel. Firfel, standing gracefully beside him, also engaged with his siblings, exchanging words with ease and warmth. Despite the political tension in the air, the evening maintained its elegance on the surface.

But at a distance, Enril stood with a sour expression, his wine untouched. His gaze kept drifting toward Arthur. The longer the party went on, the more his resentment burned. Had they been outside the castle, he might've acted on it. But here, in the palace, he could only clench his jaw and smile through gritted teeth.

As time passed, the party slowly drew to a close. King Luke took the stage once more to deliver a formal closing speech. He spoke with practiced grace, but those close to him—Azazel, Lily, and Apollonia—noticed something off in his demeanor. His eyes flickered toward Arthur too often, too deliberately.

Apollonia leaned to whisper to Azazel, "Do you notice something odd about father?"

Azazel nodded subtly. "He's hiding something."

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When the speech ended and the guests began departing, Arthur approached Lucy near the exit, his tone calm and casual. "About Joseph—one million Hellion."

Lucy scoffed. "No. I said Global Dollars. One million Hellion is only around two hundred thousand in dollars. That's a rip-off."

Arthur chuckled lightly. "Hellion is the Morningstar's official currency now, isn't it? I assumed we were negotiating in the local standard."

Lucy narrowed her eyes. "Don't play games with me, Arthur."

Arthur smiled faintly. "Who's playing? I'm just adjusting to the new economy like everyone else."

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