The Heroines Are After My Fortune

18 – Cinema Revolution

The nationwide Loewen Theaters, which I spearheaded the reopening of, were packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people, in every branch. The main branch in the capital where Rene and I were currently at was no exception.

“Three tickets for ‘Magician of the Sunset’! No, you just sold out?”

“Unbelievable, I travelled all this way to see ‘Knight Balian’, and all the shows, even the evening ones, are sold out…!”

Groans echoed throughout the space. The popular films were in such high demand that you couldn’t get a ticket without queuing up before opening. Those who had seen the show walked out with smug smiles, and those who had not, spurred on, either waited for cancellations or headed home promising to get a ticket the next day. Rene, above all, was shocked by this sight.

“…I never imagined those theaters, so empty not long ago, would become so crowded.”

“I told you, a new culture would blossom.”

The high-volume, low-margin tactic was a complete success.

Word spread that one could see fun movies for a crazy price, and my theaters instantly became the hottest spots. It also helped that the movie selection process had been a tear-jerking ordeal.

“Bloody hard work, this finding a popular film…,”

Arrogant flicks only nobles would fancy, mindless empire-boosting propaganda, films reflecting a patron’s perverted tastes—so, so many movies were flawed, unsuitable for screening to the newly incoming common folk. Still, after much digging, I managed to unearth a few decent pieces.

‘These films will do their job as stepping stones, until Rhena’s film is released.’

When countless imperial viewers, bombarded by a relentless cultural offensive, are ready to open their tightly-shut hearts and accept it, our film will detonate a nuclear bomb in their chests. It must.

“Aren’t you…burdened? You’re running at a loss…”

“No need to worry. I’m thinking of raising it a bit later, but it’s running well enough for now.”

Previous theaters, targeting a small number of nobles, had large seats that hogged space. Barely 50 people fit in a single hall. Now, by simply making the seats smaller and the aisles narrower, like in modern cinemas, we can accommodate a whopping 150 people, three times the original capacity.

Still at a loss, but manageable. This isn’t purely a money-making venture, so I’ll have to accept it.

“The other theaters are probably dying more than we are. I get dozens of protest calls a day from the guild, telling me to have some business ethics.”

“I suppose I’d feel the same if I were running another theater.”

“…Young lady, aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“Huhu, it’s just a hypothetical scenario.”

Rhena said with a soft smile.

Looking around the theater, she soon asked, as if she’d spotted something curious.

“Are you also selling food to eat inside the hall?”

“Yes, we decided to sell simple snacks for viewers who get hungry during the long screenings.”

The introduction of popcorn to the theater turned out to be a wild success. It was covering some of the losses caused by the seats. If we establish a snack culture while these new customers are pouring in, the concession stand alone will earn a hefty profit in the future.

“Wouldn’t you like to taste it?”

“I’m rather picky when it comes to food, are you sure you’re alright with it…?”

Looking as if she might get hurt by my harsh critique, Rhena’s expression made me even more stubborn.

“It’s alright. Please, try some.”

“…If you insist, I will have a taste.”

I had a staff member hand me a bag of popcorn and offered it to her.

This popcorn was developed using the very essence of a chef from the Roen family, one of the Empire’s finest. It wasn’t made with grand ingredients, but personally, I found it more delicious than the popcorn I’d eaten in modern times.

“Mmm…”

Renee picked up two or three pieces and munched them thoughtfully.

I waited for her evaluation, eyes fixed on her, when…

“Hmm, hmmm…”

She grabbed another handful and tried it again.

Her cheeks puffed out four, five times, and her hand showed no sign of stopping.

“Lady?”

“Eep-!? Ugh…!”

Startled by the sudden call, she’d bitten her tongue.

Her face turned as red as a persimmon in an instant – embarrassment seemed to outweigh the pain.

“Are you alright?”

“…Ahem, I’m fine.”

Her expression, briefly shaken, quickly returned to a composed state, as if nothing had happened.

“It wasn’t bad. Of course, it wouldn’t rate highly as a food on its own, but it seems to pair well with the theater.”

“It puts my mind at ease to hear such a thing from you, Rene, who has such high standards.”

Even as I spoke, Renee kept glancing back towards the concession stand. It seemed she was quite fond of the popcorn. Perhaps feeling a bit embarrassed to continue talking about food, she handed the popcorn she was holding to a guard standing a distance away and changed the topic, asking me a question.

“…both times before. Filming a movie first, it’s impossible, they said.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

While she and I were planning, there was one thing we both agreed on without any disagreement.

That Marquis Raphael would absolutely not simply allow her to film a movie. He, who places extreme importance on the Este family’s prestige, wouldn’t be happy about his daughter becoming a spectacle for commoners.

Filming while avoiding the Marquis’s eyes was also impossible; there was always at least one or two guards acting as escorts and watchmen when I met her, so we couldn’t hide anything. If we recklessly tried and got caught, he might suspect other maneuvers and resort to direct coercion.

“You said you would try to persuade him before coming here today, how did it go?”

“…It was a success. It went as you said.”

The other detour we chose,

It was ‘theater,’ the starting point for the majority of actors.

###

That morning,

Marquis Raphael’s study was as quiet as ever. The Marquis, enjoying his solitude while reading the newspaper, turned his gaze towards the door at the sound of a knock.

“Father, it’s Renée. May I come in?”

“Come in.”

At his permission, the door opened; it was quite unusual for his daughter to visit him in the morning.

“What brings you here so early in the morning?”

“There’s a small matter I came to ask for your permission for.”

“Hmm, speak then.”

She, seeming a bit nervous, soon composed herself and got to the point.

“Baron Aiden, who will become my husband, suggested we create a play together. He asked me to take charge of the planning.”

“Theater? Out of the blue, you say?”

“We were talking, and it turned out theater was something we both shared. Thought it might be a nice experience before the wedding, so I asked Father, told him I’d give him an answer later.”

“…Hmm.”

He’d never known his daughter liked theater. Or rather, he hadn’t paid it any mind.

If she was going to start prancing about wanting to be an actress, he wouldn’t allow it, of course, but it seemed she wouldn’t be going on stage, so there wasn’t a reason to stop her, not really.

“Fine, go ahead and try.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Renee bowed her head politely in thanks, exchanged a few more trivial pleasantries, and then left the study. Not long after she was gone, the Marquis spun his chair around, gazing with half-lidded eyes out the sun-drenched window.

“…With so little time left to draw breath, you might as well enjoy yourself.”

At this point, with the engagement to the Aiden family, who would receive the devil’s contract, already scheduled, ‘Renee,’ pretty but otherwise useless, did not exist in the Marquis’ vision of the future.

Her only remaining value was her role as a ‘sacrificial offering,’ necessary for Raphael to ascend as the Grand Master.

####

“Your plotting is impressive as ever. To think, he’d agree so easily….”

Was that a compliment, or an insult?

Anyway, we decided to start with a simple play. The plan was this:

「On the day of the performance, the lead actress would suddenly be unable to go on stage due to an injury. The audience, however, is already seated and eagerly awaiting the play. Not wanting to disappoint them, Renee, having memorized the script as she was in charge of production, would bravely take the stage despite the risk of ridicule and successfully fill the role of the lead actress.」

The Marquis might grab his neck in shock when he finally learns of it, but by then, Renee would already have established her presence in the public eye.

“Have you decided yet? Which play we’ll put on?”

She’s looking at me with the most expectant eyes I’ve ever seen. She must be eager to know what role she’ll get.

“Not only have I decided, but I’ve also written the script. Here you go.”

“So quickly…?”

The plays of this world rarely offered roles that truly etched a woman’s presence, so I adapted and rewrote a play I’d staged back in university, fitting it to this era. She took the script, leafing through it right there, her expression shifting into something enigmatic.

“Will it…be alright? I imagine the Church will strongly object.”

There were parts within the script, religiously speaking, that were quite capable of stirring up a storm. It was a point of concern that anyone reading the script would reasonably share, but I had my ways.

“It’s all in the interpretation. I also plan to have it reviewed by someone of high standing, so don’t worry.”

I’d be making use of the Saint, whom I’d be meeting soon.

Like interpreting a dream, if I had her blessing, we could bypass any major controversy. And if trouble did arise, I could just tweak the script a little.

“How do you feel about the role? If it’s too much of a burden, I can find another play for you.”

“…………”

The role I’d given Renée was, in a word, radical.

A *yandere* character who, after being rejected by the cleric she loved, has him executed, and then, whilst caressing his severed head, murmurs her devotion to him.

I was confident that across the entire Empire, no one else could embody this role with Renée’s raw intensity. Though I was sure this would work, I couldn’t force it on Renée if she found it overwhelming.

“No, I like it. I’ll do it.”

Fortunately, she was taken with the part. Even as she agreed, continuing to read, her expression hinted at a fierce determination, a high level of fighting spirit.

“Memorize it perfectly. You have one week.”

“Huh? This thick thing…!?”

“I have to leave for a while. I’ll direct you when I return, so focus on memorization for now.”

I’d received news not long ago.

I’d finally found the “invention specialist” I’d been searching for.

‘…No matter what, I must recruit them.’

This week, I’m off to recruit the Mary Sue of all Mary Sues, the ‘Genius Magitech Engineer’ from the top of the world. I absolutely, under no circumstances, cannot fail. If I don’t get him, the future is nothing but ruin.

Originally, I should’ve given her at least two or three weeks, making her memorize things bit by bit while checking her acting too, but since I wouldn’t be seeing her, it was better to make her focus all her energy on memorization.

“You won’t be here for a whole week? What on earth is going on….”

Seems she thought I’d be solely focused on her for that brief 100 days. If I left without explanation, she’d probably sulk, so I gave Rene a decent excuse.

“Well, since we’ve decided to put on a play, I’ll need to coordinate audition dates, contact veteran actors, look for a small theatre to rent, find a lighting director, a makeup artist, and a prop master.”

“Ah….”

Rene suddenly went silent. But I wasn’t done yet.

“Oh, and since we only have 100 days, we can’t delay the movie either. What should the script be, what music should we use, how should we distribute it, how should we promote it to attract viewers, what director should we get, who will be the editor, what magic user will handle special effects, and should we hire a swordsman to choreograph and double for the action scenes? Once we’ve done all that, we should be nearly done. Guess I’ll be cutting down on sleep for a while, ha ha!”

“…You’re going through a lot. Good luck.”

Rene, looking abruptly apologetic, shrank down in a way she never usually did.

I was just about to get cocky looking at her like that, when suddenly, a cold sweat broke out.

‘Wait a damn minute, those are actually all things *I* have to do…?’

I’d just rattled off all the things needed when making a play and a movie as an excuse, but saying it out loud, it became clear that everything from start to finish required my direct hand. Given how clear I was about what I wanted to create, it was obvious I’d have to go through everything myself, grinding myself down to get it done.

‘I’m so screwed, goddamn it—!!!’

Crushed by the disaster I’d called upon myself, I let out a silent scream.