Lord of Entertainment

(Dianne James' POV)

It's happening right before my eyes - a demon film that has the audience applauding even before it ends. I can scarcely believe it, yet I understand their reaction completely.

The juxtaposition of the killings with Michael swearing by Solarus' name during the baptism - it's undeniably evil, yes. But it's also... brilliant. Even that word feels inadequate to describe the mastery of this scene.

I find myself in a moral quandary. How can something so sinister, so morally reprehensible, be so captivating? Then it hits me - we've been rooting for a demon crime family all along. Yet, I can't bring myself to care. It's fiction, after all, and what matters is its breathtaking execution.

As the film nears its end, another scene stirs something deep within me. Kay confronts Michael about the massacres, and he denies involvement. The moment Michael's eyes change, I feel a chill run down my spine. It's deliciously, terrifyingly evil.

When Kay, convinced by Michael's lies, kisses him, I can't help but pity her. "Poor, naive girl," I mutter under my breath.

The final shot - the door closing on Kay as Michael receives his men's loyalty - it's a masterful touch. As the credits roll and that Demonfather soundtrack plays, I find myself unexpectedly emotional. Without realizing it, I'm on my feet, applauding.

Beside me, Ryukyu is practically bouncing with excitement. "It was amazing!" he exclaims, his earlier criticism forgotten.

I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. "I agree," I say, surprised to find myself in complete accord with him for once.

***

(Eric Roosevelt's POV)

My mind is racing, my palms sweaty with excitement. I must secure the rights to this film, no matter the cost. It's not just about profit anymore - though that's certainly part of it. This masterpiece needs to be seen by every citizen of Empirica.

The goosebumps on my skin haven't subsided. In all my years in the industry, I've never seen anything quite like this.

I'm on my feet, clapping until my hands sting. The applause has been going for a full ten minutes now - a record, and one I never would have expected for a demon film.

As I look around the theater, I see demons, humans, elves, all united in their appreciation of this cinematic triumph. It's more than just entertainment - it's a cultural phenomenon in the making.

"Unbelievable," I hear someone nearby mutter. "A demon film... who would have thought?"

I grin to myself. Who indeed? But that's the beauty of it. "The Demonfather" has just shattered every preconception about demon cinema, about what's possible in film regardless of who's making it.

As the applause finally begins to die down, I'm already planning my next move. I need to find the director behind this, to secure those distribution rights before anyone else realizes what a goldmine they're sitting on.

As the director, crew, and cast step onto the stage, my wide smile falters. There, standing before us, is Arthur Morningstar. I'd completely forgotten about him.

For three hours, I was so engrossed in this masterpiece that I'd forgotten it was the creation of a demon prince everyone looks down upon. A prince I'd dismissed without a second thought.

I quickly shake my head, steeling my resolve. It doesn't matter if this film came from the evil lord himself. I will get the rights for it!

***

(Arthur's POV)

I've done it. I've finally done it.

The audience is impressed. Their applause washes over me like a wave, validating all our hard work. For a moment, I find myself waiting for a system notification, a sign that I've fulfilled my mission. Then I remember - I need to make this a "box office success" to complete the task.

Focus, Arthur. One step at a time.

I step up to the microphone, scanning the sea of faces before me. Demons, humans, elves - all united in their appreciation of our work. It's a sight I never thought I'd see.

"I am glad that everyone was enjoying the film from this 'trashy prince'," I say, unable to keep a hint of satisfaction from my voice. "I am honored."

Laughter ripples through the audience. Some laugh out of embarrassment, realizing they'd underestimated me.

Others laugh with genuine mirth, appreciating the irony. A few, I notice, don't laugh at all - they're too busy reassessing everything they thought they knew about demon cinema.

I don't care about the reasons. What matters is that we've made an impact. Me, my team, we've done what everyone said was impossible.

As I look out at the crowd, I catch sight of a human in expensive clothes, his eyes gleaming with a look I recognize all too well. It's the look of someone who's just spotted a golden opportunity.

Inwardly, I smile. Let them come. Let them see what this 'trashy prince' can do. Because this? This is just the beginning.

I can't help but smirk as I continue my speech. "Some were calling my film 'trash' before it even began."

Another wave of laughter ripples through the audience. They remember the naysayers, the doubters. My eyes find the guy in the front row who had been particularly vocal about his low expectations. He's shrinking in his seat now, trying to avoid the stares. Part of me wants to revel in his discomfort, but I decide to take the high road.

Clearing my throat, I redirect the attention. "What you've witnessed today wouldn't have been possible without my team... and the incredible actors who took a chance on me and this project."

The audience breaks into genuine applause, and I feel a surge of pride for my crew.

"Of course," I add with a self-deprecating chuckle, "while they believed in me, they also had their doubts. My infamous reputation preceded me, after all." More laughter. "But today... I've proved the doubters wrong and the believers right."

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the crowd: "Woo! You did good, Michael!"

The audience erupts in laughter, and more voices join in.

"You're amazing, Michael!"

"You're my new idol!"

I can't help but smile wryly at the comments. "Easy there," I say, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "Stop calling me Michael before I forget my own name."

The laughter that follows is warm, appreciative. It's a far cry from the skepticism I faced just hours ago.

As I wrap up my speech, I decide to go out with a bang. "Today, we didn't just introduce a colored film. We introduced a masterpiece." It's a bold claim, but looking out at the sea of impressed faces, I know no one's going to argue.

Then, with a playful glint in my eye, I add, "If anyone here wants to discuss the colored camera technology or the rights to our film, you can talk to me later. I'm very eager about it."

More laughter, some cheers. I can see a few industry bigwigs perking up at this, their eyes gleaming with interest.

With a final wave, I step down from the stage, my heart pounding with a mixture of exhilaration and relief.

As I make my way through the crowd, I'm accosted by well-wishers, critics eager for interviews, and more than a few industry players trying to get a word in about distribution rights.

But amid the chaos, my mind is already racing ahead. This is just the beginning. We've proven what we can do, but now... now it's time to build on this success.