Lord of Entertainment

(Arthur's POV)

A week has flown by since George and I started our computing machine experiments. I've been stockpiling cheap film strips, ready to be encoded with binary. It's exciting progress, but that's not the only iron I have in the fire.

Between tinkering sessions, I've been hammering out a script for our next film project. Thanks to the Entertainment Shop, I've acquired the story of "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" in full detail. It's a far cry from "The Demonfather," which I could only recreate from my admittedly impressive memory of my favorite film. Now, I have the luxury of a complete blueprint to work from.

Of course, this isn't Earth, and a straight adaptation wouldn't fly. I've been tweaking the story to fit our magical, multi-racial world. The three main characters are now a gruff demon bounty hunter, a cunning elven outlaw, and a ruthless dwarven mercenary. The setting? The Empirican Frontier Age - a period in Empirica's history that mirrors the Wild West, complete with lawless towns, rival factions, and the clash between old magic and new technology.

It's a massive undertaking, but I'm not worried about the logistics. The box office returns from "The Demonfather" in just the Morningstar Kingdom have been substantial. I can only imagine how the numbers will skyrocket once the global returns start rolling in.

As I delve deeper into the script, I realize how perfectly this story will resonate with the people of this world, especially the Empiricans.

Their own Frontier Age was rife with outlaws and rival factions, mirroring the Wild West in many ways. There's even a precedent for demon bounty hunters in Empirica's history - outcasts who turned to the profession to survive.

It's a narrative that's both familiar and fresh, a perfect blend of the known and the exotic. The human films depicting their frontier age have always been popular here, but this? This will be something else entirely.

An hour into my writing session, Lilith bursts into the studio, interrupting my flow. "Boss, those ex-employees are here. They've already created a film."

I blink, surprised. I hadn't expected them to actually follow through. "Let them in," I say, curiosity piqued.

The group files in, looking nervous. I cut straight to the chase. "Now... Where's the film?"

A young man steps forward, holding out a reel of film strips. "This is the film," he says, his voice a mix of pride and apprehension.

I raise an eyebrow. "You are?"

"I'm Mochi, boss. I'm the one that directed the film."

I nod, considering. "Don't call me boss yet," I caution him. "We wouldn't know for sure if I'll be your boss or not later. Your film will decide it."

Mochi nods, understanding the stakes. "Understood."

As I take the film reel, I can't help but feel a surge of curiosity.

If these ex-employees have managed to create something worthwhile, it could be the start of a whole new chapter for Hellfire Studios.

But first things first. I need to see what they've created.

"Alright," I say, turning to Lilith. "Get the projector ready. Let's see what our aspiring filmmakers have come up with."

As we set up for the screening, I can feel the tension in the room. These young demons have put their hearts and souls into this film, hoping for a second chance. And me? I'm hoping for a pleasant surprise.

As the projector whirs to life and the black-and-white images flicker onto the screen, I can't help but chuckle inwardly. The "actors" are none other than Mochi and his colleagues themselves. Their desperation to return to the studio is palpable, etched in every frame.

The story unfolds - a classic mob tale. The protagonist, Louis, played by Mochi himself, is betrayed by a friend. What follows is a gritty journey of revenge and ascension through the ranks of the demon underworld.

As the film progresses, I find myself pleasantly surprised. For a group of amateurs working with limited resources, they've managed to craft something... intriguing.

The cinematography is rough but shows potential, and there's a raw energy to the performances that's oddly compelling.

I glance around the room, noting the tension in Mochi and his friends' faces as they watch my reaction. They've poured their hearts into this, that much is clear.

It's impressive, really. Out of the 30 who left, these 10 were the ones who swallowed their pride, pushed past the embarrassment, and actually created something. While the others moved on or wallowed in regret, this group took action.

The film concludes with a bittersweet resolution. Louis, having triumphed over his adversities, faces his betrayer.

The friend seeks forgiveness, but Louis, while granting it, makes it clear that the betrayal has permanently altered their relationship. It's a nuanced ending, more mature than I expected.

As the final frame fades to black, the room falls into silence. There's no soundtrack, no flourish - just the quiet whir of the projector winding down. I remain quiet, mulling over what I've just seen.

Mochi and his companions fidget nervously, their eyes darting between me and each other. The tension in the room is palpable.

Finally, I break the silence with a chuckle. "It's impressive that you've made this film in a week. The dedication and skills you've demonstrated are... noteworthy."

I can see hope blooming in their eyes, but I'm not done yet. "However..." I pause, watching as their expressions shift from hope to anxiety.

I continue, my face serious, "I'm not sure if this is enough to warrant rehiring you all."

Their faces fall, disappointment etched in every line. But I'm not finished.

"After all," I say, struggling to keep a straight face, "how do I know you won't run off and start a rival studio with these skills of yours?"

The look of sheer panic on their faces is almost comical. I can't keep up the charade any longer and break into a grin.

"I'm joking, of course. You're hired."

The relief that washes over them is immediately replaced by joy. They start to cheer, but I hold up a hand to silence them.

"But let me be clear," I say, my tone serious once more. "This is your second chance. There won't be a third. I expect dedication, hard work, and loyalty. Understood?"

They nod vigorously, gratitude shining in their eyes.

I allow myself a small smile as I watch their eager faces. "Good," I nod, then add, "But understand this - you're not stepping back into your old roles. You'll need to work your way up again."

Mochi, eyes glistening with tears of relief, nods vigorously. "We'll do our best, boss! You won't regret this!"

"Alright, go on then. Your colleagues are waiting," I say, gesturing towards the door.

As they file out, chattering excitedly amongst themselves, I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Their gratitude is palpable, and I know it will translate into loyalty and hard work. It's not just about their skills or the film they made - it's about the dedication they'll bring now that they've been given a second chance.

Of course, if they do decide to leave again... well, let's just say the best revenge is success. And I intend to be very, very successful.

Shaking off these thoughts, I head back to the room where George and I have been working on our computing machine. We've made significant progress - our optical reader for the film strips is functioning, and we're in the process of developing the functions and sequence patterns that will form the core of our prototype computer.

It's an unconventional approach, using film strips for input instead of punch cards or magnetic tape. But that's what makes it exciting.

And our output method? We're bypassing traditional printers in favor of projectors.