(Joseph Jackson POV)
It's been a while since I started living in this kingdom, but everything still feels new.
Every day, I learn something different—about the city, about the people, about myself. This morning, I was walking down the sidewalk on my way to Hellscape, planning to stock up on groceries for the week. Hands tucked into my pockets, I let the city sounds wash over me—footsteps, voices, the low rumble of passing vehicles. Strangely, the noise didn't bother me. If anything, it gave the city its pulse.
Sunlight glinted off the glass buildings around me. Massive billboards flashed with vibrant colors, and sleek cars cruised down spotless streets. I found myself murmuring under my breath, "This city… it's so far ahead of Ferland."
And it was.
Back in Morningstar Kingdom—where I grew up—Ferland was considered a major city. But now, after just a few weeks in Horn City, I could see the difference. I used to think this place was small and backward. That Morningstar, being one of the largest demon kingdoms on the continent besides Bharat, had no equal.
But Horn surprised me.
It might be small in size, but it was rich in innovation—entertainment, technology, culture. The "internet" had only recently become accessible across the continent, yet here in Horn, it was already everywhere. Widely used, integrated into daily life. In every shop, on every street corner.
Morningstar feels like the past, I realized. Horn is the future.
And deep down, I knew the reason.
'Is it because of the Exiled Prince? Because of Arthur?'
It had to be.
I once swore loyalty to the Morningstar family. Especially to Princess Lucy. But after the way she cast me aside like I was nothing, I swore I'd never serve them again.
Now, my loyalty belongs only to one demon.
Arthur.
Because of him, I have a purpose. A future. My debut song—the one he helped me record—was a success. And this morning, I saw it with my own eyes.
As I approached the towering Hellscape building, the mall speakers caught my ear.
It was my song.
I froze.
The soft beat filled the atrium, and I watched—really watched—as people stopped to listen. Some swayed gently to the rhythm. Others mouthed the words. A few sang out loud.
It was surreal.
My voice… was part of their day.
"This…" I breathed, stunned. "They're listening to me."
I hadn't left the studio much since the song's release. I hadn't seen the public's reaction firsthand. But now that I had, something inside me warmed. I smiled—genuine, from the heart—and headed toward the grocery section with a little more spring in my step.
I picked up what I needed, then returned to my apartment inside Hellfire Park.
As soon as I stepped through the door, a staff member greeted me.
"Mr. Jackson, there's a message waiting for you on your workstation. Came through Hellfire Messenger."
"Got it," I nodded.
I headed to my study, switched on the sleek monitor, and opened the notification.
A message flashed across the screen:
«Hello! This is 69.9 FM. We'd love to invite you to perform your debut song live on our radio station. Please respond as soon as possible.»
I blinked at the screen.
Then smiled.
---
(3rd Person POV)
It had only been a week and a half since the release of the Hellfire Walkman, yet the numbers spoke for themselves.
The product was brand new, but the market reception was anything but uncertain. Total sales had already reached 67.2 million HKD, with over 280,000 units sold.
While the public continued to rave about the convenience and musical quality of the device, record labels—both local and international—had begun to take notice.
Much like the early days of television, when savvy businessmen saw the potential and launched entire TV channels, music executives now saw the Walkman as the future of distribution.
Inside a dimly lit private room in an upscale bar in Wales Kingdom, the CEO of Courier Dragon Records—one of the continent's well-known labels—sat in conversation with two trusted executives.
The CEO, a sharp-eyed blonde man named Perry, swirled a glass of amber liquor in his hand.
"There's a new device Hellfire released," he began, glancing between them. "It's called the Walkman."
He leaned forward, his voice low but brimming with intent.
"I see gold in it. The market's already forming. Sales are still in the hundreds of thousands, but the trend is clear—this thing's going to explode."
Across from him, a poised woman in a crimson blazer nodded, sipping from her wine glass.
"I agree. If it spreads outside Horn Kingdom, demand will skyrocket. We need to prepare. Figure out how to adapt our music to whatever format the Walkman uses."
The third in the group, a half-demon with dark skin and electric-blue hair, tapped the table thoughtfully.
"I looked into it. It doesn't use VHS or any of the standard formats. It runs on something new—cassette tapes, apparently."
Perry raised an eyebrow. "Cassette?"
"Yeah," the half-demon continued. "We'll need to coordinate with our distributors. Or better yet, talk directly with Hellfire. If we want our tracks to be available in that format, we'll need their specs."
Perry smirked. "Then we make that our priority. Get our catalog into the Walkman library before the competition does."
Outside this room, other record labels were already reaching the same conclusion. Conversations were happening in boardrooms and lounges, across kingdoms and realms.
And all of them had one name on their lips: Hellfire.
---
Meanwhile, at the 69.9 FM radio studio, Joseph stepped through the soundproof doors and was greeted warmly by the two hosts.
"Welcome, Joseph Jackson, to 69.9 FM!" the male host beamed, standing to shake his hand.
Joseph nodded, offering a calm smile. "Thanks for having me."
The female host leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Joseph, I'm sure you're aware that your debut song has been taking off—especially since it was bundled with the Hellfire Walkman, which everyone seems to be going crazy for. How does it feel?"
Joseph exhaled softly, his voice steady but sincere. "Honestly? I'm excited. But more than anything, I'm grateful to my one and only boss—Arthur Pendragon. Without him, I wouldn't be here."
The hosts exchanged a smile, clearly charmed by his humility.
After a few more pleasantries, they gave him the cue to begin.
Joseph stepped up to the mic. The lights dimmed slightly. A soft instrumental filled the room.
Then—he sang.
His voice floated through the airwaves, reaching thousands across Horn City. It wasn't just his voice—it was the magic woven into every note. The hosts, though not versed in magic, felt its effects instantly. A calming warmth spread through their bodies, easing their thoughts, their stress, their tension.
They glanced at each other, blinking in quiet awe.
"…Incredible," the male host whispered.
Listeners across the city experienced the same thing. Some stopped in their tracks, others closed their eyes and let the melody wrap around them like a warm breeze. Even after the song ended, the feeling lingered.
Calls poured into the station.
"I need to know who this Joseph guy is!"
"Where can I see his face? I want to watch him perform!"
And soon, they'd get their wish.
Major TV networks across the Horn Kingdom began reaching out to Joseph for interviews and guest appearances. The Tonight Show with Rocky Montclair, Hellfire's flagship late-night program, was the first to extend an invitation. Other networks—who already had their own late-night spinoffs inspired by Rocky's format—soon followed, eager to feature the rising star on their stages.
With just one debut song, Joseph's name was now echoing across the kingdom—and beyond. Thanks to the internet, his fame reached even other nations, sparking interest from fans and curiosity from media outlets, even though most of them hadn't yet heard his song.
And as Joseph's star rose, so did the Walkman's success.
Demand for the Hellfire Walkman exploded internationally. Distributors from neighboring kingdoms began contacting Hellfire, eager to bring the product to their markets.
Watching this success from the royal palace was Princess Marry—the brilliant and calculating heir of Horn Kingdom. From her balcony, she observed the city below and the ripple effect Arthur's influence had caused.
She recalled Arthur's proposal from months ago: to help her ascend the throne, reform the Horn Kingdom's stock exchange, and turn the region into a self-sustaining economic powerhouse. In return, she would support his vision—and help him dethrone her own parents.
She had hesitated then.
But not anymore.
Still holding the magical contract in her hands, she whispered to herself, "Am I really doing the right thing?"
Her mind flashed back to a moment that had long festered—when a royal envoy from the Wales Kingdom visited and treated Horn's nobles like second-class citizens. The arrogance. The entitlement.
Horn was still under Wales' influence, and every noble and tourist from there made sure they knew it.
Her fingers tightened around the pen.
She was tired of it.
Tired of watching her homeland treated as a stepping stone.
Tired of waiting for change.
With a sharp breath, she signed the contract—binding her fate to Arthur's revolution.
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