(3rd Person POV)
At the Hellfire Network building, the main hall was already buzzing. Reporters packed the space, cameras aimed toward the stage, murmurs rippling through the crowd like a restless tide.
"What do you think Arthur's planning to reveal this time?" a reporter asked, nudging his rival from another network.
"Probably the release date for his next movie," the rival guessed.
A third reporter, overhearing, chimed in with a shake of the head. "No way. If it were just a film update, they wouldn't say it could 'change the world.' That teaser felt way too big for just cinema news."
A nearby cameraman nodded in agreement. "Exactly. If it turns out to be just another movie announcement, it'll be a huge letdown—and honestly, a PR disaster. You don't stir the whole kingdom like this unless it's something game-changing."
"Yeah. That Hellfire message was dramatic as hell."
"It better be worth the mana and electricity we're burning just being here."
Their voices blended into the steady hum of conversation as more reporters whispered theories and speculations. All eyes kept flicking toward the empty stage—until, at last, Arthur stepped into view.
By his side stood Firfel, elegant and poised, but largely ignored by the crowd.
"Mr. Pendragon!" one reporter called out, nearly shouting over the rising excitement. "We received Hellfire's broadcast saying you'd be unveiling something that could change the world—can you tell us what it is?"
Arthur raised his hands, gesturing for calm. "Easy now," he said with a small grin. "We'll get there."
The crowd quieted. All ears were on him.
Arthur cleared his throat and spoke, his tone calm but confident. "Today, I will introduce a device that has never existed in this world before—a device that will change how we live, how we connect, how we think."
Gasps rippled through the audience. Whispers surged.
'It's true... he's unveiling something new again…!'
There was a strange energy in the air—something electric. Even those who didn't understand what was coming found themselves holding their breath, eager to witness the next revolution.
Some of the reporters began murmuring among themselves, wondering if this new reveal was anything like the last groundbreaking invention Arthur had introduced: the computer.
Perhaps this was a new version, or a related device. No one knew for sure.
Arthur watched their puzzled faces with quiet amusement, then glanced at Firfel.
She gave a slight nod and stepped forward, pulling a slim device from her pocket.
"This," Firfel said clearly, holding it up, "is the device that will change everything about how we live."
She smiled as she spoke, confident in her words. After all, she'd been using the Hellphone herself for months. And she knew—it wasn't just impressive. It was revolutionary.
But what she got in return was silence. And confusion.
All eyes narrowed on the tiny, unimposing object in her hand. Whispers spread like wildfire.
'That's it?'
'That little thing?'
In one of the network control rooms, a director sighed and rubbed his temple. "Thank the gods we've got a three-minute delay on this broadcast." he muttered. "Cut it if this goes nowhere."
His staff stayed quiet, their eyes glued to the screen.
Back at the press hall, the tension cracked when a reporter finally raised his hand and asked bluntly, "Uh… with all due respect, Mr. Pendragon—are you serious right now?"
Arthur blinked. "Come again?"
Another reporter joined in, less polite. "Are you really asking us to believe that some... toy-sized trinket will change the world? That's ridiculous."
Murmurs rippled through the room. Skepticism had fully taken root.
Arthur, unfazed, simply smiled.
"There's a saying: don't judge a book by its cover," he said smoothly.
He stepped closer and continued, voice calm but deliberate. "This may look small. But it's anything but ordinary."
He gestured toward the device in Firfel's hand. "It's called the Hellphone."
With practiced ease, Firfel flipped the phone open. The crisp click echoed faintly in the room.
The screen lit up in full color — and suddenly, the press leaned forward.
A ripple of surprise spread through the hall.
"What the…?"
"It has colorful small screen?"
Arthur raised a hand again, his voice steady. "Let me introduce you to the Hellphone."
"The Hellphone allows instant communication across long distances—without any wires. No need for a telephone line. No operator. Just you, and the person you want to reach."
He let the words hang for a second before dropping the bomb: "And it's not just for the rich. This device can be mass-produced. Millions—no, billions—of people could own one."
That statement hit like a shockwave.
"You're saying anyone can use it!?"
"That tiny thing can do that!?"
A few gasps turned into stunned awe. But it wasn't until one of the more technical-minded reporters spoke that the significance truly landed.
"A wireless call...?" he muttered. "But the dwarves tried that. They experimented with long-distance signals before—static-laced, short-range radio communications. It required a receiver the size of a chest, and the signals broke down after just a few miles. It couldn't scale."
He stared at the Hellphone, baffled. "Even they never managed anything this compact. To claim that the masses can carry this—use this—" He trailed off, shaking his head. "It defies what we thought possible."
Arthur smiled. "Exactly."
And for the first time in the hall, silence returned — not from confusion, but from awe.
If what Arthur had just claimed was true... then they were witnessing history.
Inside the control rooms of various broadcasting networks, the directors who had nearly pulled the plug froze in place. One leaned forward and muttered, "Hellphone, huh...?"
Back on stage, Arthur turned slightly toward the crowd, calm and composed. "Let me show you just how powerful the Hellphone really is."
He nodded to Firfel.
Firfel flipped open her Hellphone, her fingers dancing across the keypad. The camera crew zoomed in, trying to capture every movement — though they had no idea what they were filming. The device's interface was alien to them.
Then—
🎶 Riiing!
A clear ringing tone echoed across the room.
Gasps followed.
The sound came from Arthur's coat pocket.
Arthur reached in casually and pulled out another Hellphone, flipped it open, and pressed a button. "Hello?"
And to everyone's astonishment — Firfel's Hellphone echoed his voice: "Hello?"
Then Firfel responded, "How are you?"
"Fine," Arthur answered with a small smile — and the sound came through clearly from Firfel's side.
The room erupted in murmurs. Wide eyes. Dropped jaws. Even in the control rooms, the technical crews sat up straighter.
Arthur held the Hellphone up with a smile. "See? We're speaking to each other. No wires. No runes. Just this device."
There was a beat of stunned silence.
Then the older, tech-savvy reporter — the same one who had earlier mentioned the dwarves' attempts — raised a hand, voice cautious but sharp. "It's impressive, Mr. Pendragon. But... this only proves short-range communication. For all we know, she's just a few feet away."
The crowd nodded in agreement.
"Right. That could be it."
"Could just be some parlor trick."
"How do we know it really works over a long distance?"
Arthur smiled again — as if he had expected that exact question.
He simply chuckled at their skepticism. Spreading his arms casually, he said, "Of course you'd doubt it — and that's exactly why I came prepared."
He paused, letting anticipation rise, then continued, "I have someone waiting right now in Dragon Walled City, ready to receive a call."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"And for full transparency," Arthur added, "a team from Hellfire Network is with him — broadcasting live from the city. Same three-minute delay, as always. You can switch to our channel and see for yourself. My friend George will appear on screen."
Inside control rooms across networks, directors gave quick orders to switch feeds.
"Patch in Hellfire Network. Now!"
And sure enough, George appeared on one of the broadcast monitors — waving with a grin from a plaza in Dragon Walled City.
"Yo, Boss Arthur!" George's voice came through loud and clear.
Back at the stage, Arthur flipped open his Hellphone and answered. The audience watched, dumbfounded, as the two men spoke casually — despite being cities apart. There was a slight delay, but nothing significant. The audio was clear, the visuals crisp.
They chatted for a few moments before ending the call.
Then Arthur turned back to the crowd and demonstrated other features of the Hellphone: colorful screen menus, saved contacts, and even message storage.
Meanwhile, millions were watching the broadcast across the kingdom.
From taverns to royal halls, citizens and nobles alike were glued to their screens.
And one thought echoed across their minds: I want that.
Even members of noble houses, seated in their luxurious estates, stared at the device with envy and desire.
But then came the twist.
Arthur smiled at the crowd and announced, "Starting today, you can buy this device — either through the Hellscape website or at any Hellscape Mall across the kingdom. But take note—" he paused for emphasis, "—only credit card holders are eligible to purchase."
A collective silence fell.
It hit hard.
Reporters in the press room exchanged awkward glances. Cameramen sighed. Many of them didn't own a credit card.
Across households, excitement dulled.
And among the audience, a quiet realization bloomed.
So that's the play...
He's not just launching a product. He's elevating his bank. Binding the future to Hellfire's credit system. Profiting from both.
A clever, ruthless move.
Some felt frustration. Some admiration. Others, envy.
But all felt the same pull.
Apply for a Hellfire Bank credit card.