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Lord of Entertainment C279 Solution
🕑 Added 2025-03-03 04:01:36 +0000 UTC(3rd Person POV)
After the party, the public buzzed with anticipation, eager to learn any details about The Return of the King from the lucky guests who had watched it firsthand.
Unfortunately for them, their curiosity was met with frustration.
The attendees, bound by the magical contract, could only offer vague statements.
Major newspapers and news outlets that had journalists at the screening could only write:
"One thing is certain—The Return of the King is worth watching. I can’t share any details due to the magical contract we signed, but I can tell you this: You don’t want to miss it!"
The majority of critics shared one overwhelming sentiment:
"The Return of the King is a masterpiece."
Of course, there were a few outliers—journalists who criticized the film, calling it overrated or unimpressive.
It was no surprise that these particular journalists had been consistently critical of Hellfire Studios, many of them from international media outlets known for their bias against Arthur.
But among the Lord of the Rings fanbase, these journalists were met with scorn.
At a public bus stop, as people flipped through newspapers, a demoness scoffed, gripping her newspaper tightly.
"Damn it. What a waste—giving these insufferable critics the chance to watch the movie early when they clearly hate it."
She clenched her fist in irritation. She really hated their guts.
A voice beside her chimed in—another demoness, her shirt proudly displaying a LOTR merch.
"I know, right? Those critics don’t deserve it. I’m so jealous."
A bystander, overhearing the conversation, chuckled.
"Honestly, with all these exclusive privileges film critics get, I’m thinking of switching careers just to watch The Return of the King early."
The group laughed, but there was an underlying truth to the joke.
Arthur’s screening had included high-ranking guests—nobles, businessmen, politicians. But the ones who truly stood out were the journalists who had been invited.
As a result, a running joke spread across Hellbook and public conversations:
"Maybe we should all just become journalists. That way, we can watch The Return of the King before everyone else."
Fortunately for the eager public, while full details remained a secret, critics had at least released limited information through newspapers and magazines.
They didn’t spoil anything major, only confirming what fans already knew—such as Aragorn being with Arwen and their on-screen kiss.
Beyond that, they shared vague reactions, focusing more on the emotional experience of watching the film rather than its specific events.
This divided the readers.
Some were relieved—grateful that they weren’t accidentally spoiled.
But others?
They felt cheated.
"I read this whole article for nothing!"
"Useless information! They didn’t tell us anything new!"
The anticipation only grew stronger.
Now, the public was even more impatient—knowing that The Return of the King was complete, but still out of their reach.
The official release date of The Return of the King was still undisclosed, but Arthur had assured the public that it would only be a matter of weeks before its release.
And sure enough, anticipation reached new heights.
Billboards across major cities began displaying promotional posters of the film, and then—the first official trailer dropped.
It aired on television networks worldwide, immediately capturing the attention of millions of fans.
Excitement spread like wildfire.
In Horn Kingdom, Hellbook exploded with discussions.
The platform was flooded with fan theories, excitement, and speculation.
And with such high engagement, the demand for computers surged.
Sales within Horn Kingdom skyrocketed, and subscriptions to Hellfire Telecommunications spiked as more and more people wanted to join the online conversation.
In just a short time, Hellbook’s user base shot up to 310,000.
It was growing too fast—almost uncontrollably.
And with such rapid success, Hellfire Web had now fully captured the attention of the business world.
Entrepreneurs—both big and small—began seeing opportunities in the platform.
Thousands upon thousands of business accounts popped up, eager to promote their products and services.
But there was one problem—
The overwhelming flood of advertisements.
The Hellfire regulatory team had to step in, limiting the number of promotional posts users could see on their feeds.
To combat spam and maintain user engagement, Hellbook was updated—users could now only see posts from people they had added as friends.
This drastically limited the reach of businesses that joined the platform too late.
However, those who had recognized the opportunity early on had already established themselves, building connections and an audience before the changes were implemented.
Realizing this, Hellfire made a crucial adjustment.
Promotions would now be allowed—but for a price.
Just like newspapers or television ads, businesses could purchase ad slots on Hellbook.
However, unlike traditional advertising, the rates were much cheaper, making it accessible even to small businesses.
While some businessmen hesitated, the most ambitious took the plunge, quickly securing promotional slots before the prices inevitably increased.
A new feature was also introduced—instead of creating a personal user account, businesses could now set up official pages dedicated to their brands.
With this, their promotions became more structured and effective.
Ads could now appear as small banners on the site for a certain period, or promotional posts from business pages would be guaranteed to reach a targeted audience.
And among these business pages, none received more engagement than Hellfire Studio’s official page.
Promoting The Return of the King, the page dominated the platform, racking up tens of thousands of likes and thousands of comments in just a single day.
The hype was now unstoppable.
Yet, while the world buzzed with excitement over The Return of the King, there were those who cared little for the movie itself.
What truly caught their attention was something far bigger—
The computers. The internet. The potential of it all.
They could see it clearly now.
This wasn’t just another passing innovation—it was bigger than the rise of television when it first entered the world.
Especially in marketing and business.
Among those observing closely was Princess Marry.
She had been monitoring Hellfire’s every move, her focus locked on the internet’s growing influence.
Arthur’s proposal was still on her mind.
And so far?
She was incredibly tempted.
But what held her back was the contract.
A contract that required her to betray her own family.
If she signed it, she would be obligated to help Arthur dethrone her parents, removing not just King Magnus and Queen Margaret—but also severing the influence of Wales Kingdom over Horn.
After that, it would be her choice whether she would take the throne herself.
Becoming Queen of Horn Kingdom had always been a dream buried deep in her heart.
But the price of that dream was far too great.
Did she hate her parents enough to cast them aside?
That, even she wasn’t sure of.
And more importantly—why?
Why was Arthur so determined to dethrone her father?
What was he really planning?
---
Meanwhile, across the world, kingdoms were scrambling.
The release of The Return of the King was approaching fast, and they knew exactly what would happen next.
The movie was going to rake in hundreds of millions—perhaps even more.
And they needed to limit its financial impact as much as possible.
The fastest solution?
Push forward their own local currencies.
By doing so, they could weaken the influence of the Global Dollar and cut down the power Arthur had gained over the financial markets.
However, there was one major problem—
Unlike Horn Kingdom, these nations could not print money as fast.
And then, a new development caught them off guard.
Several major kingdoms had begun allowing Hellfire Electronics to sell computers, breaking the previous resistance against the technology. Among them were Kanata, Choson, and various nations in South-East Anatolia and Evros.
The news spread like wildfire, dominating headlines across major publications.
“Hellfire Electronics’ ‘computer’ device to soon be available outside Anatolia!”
The moment this report broke, panic set in among the monopolizing corporations.
For years, they had fought relentlessly to suppress Hellfire’s expansion, believing that if they could contain computers within Horn Kingdom, they could delay the inevitable.
But now, it was clear—they had lost.
What they feared most had begun.
Hellfire’s computers and internet infrastructure were now slipping beyond their control, spreading into foreign markets where demand was skyrocketing.
And with it, Hellfire's influence was growing stronger than ever.
