(3rd Person POV)
By the next day, word of Titanic had exploded across the Horn Kingdom and the Morningstar Kingdom.
It spread like wildfire—an unstoppable force of chatter, rumors, and sheer emotional impact. Theatres were packed, lines were long, and wherever people gathered, there was only one thing they talked about.
The film was more than a hit.
It was a phenomenon.
Those who hadn't seen it were left blinking in confusion, like fish out of water.
"What are they even talking about?" one bewildered merchant muttered, watching a group of animated women gasp and chatter outside a café. "Was it… some kind of historical event?"
Unbeknownst to him, what he was missing wasn't history—it was cinematic magic.
In cafés, parlors, and tea shops, women of all ages huddled together, their voices laced with emotion and frustration.
"I swear, the ending was so stupid and heartbreaking!" a fox demon girl cried, clutching her drink. "Why did it have to end like that? I was bawling my eyes out!"
"Right?" her friend groaned, slamming her cup down. "Why couldn't they just… be happy together? Why couldn't they grow old, get married, and raise little elf-demon babies!?"
"I even dreamed about it last night," another girl said with misty eyes. "Rose holding their child… it felt so real."
It was quickly becoming a cultural moment among women—an unspoken sisterhood bound by heartbreak and the hope for an ending that never came.
But for the men?
Well… their focus was a little different.
At taverns, offices, and barbershops, the discussion took a much spicier turn.
"Forget Jack," one man snorted. "Did you see Rose in that drawing scene? Firfel… damn, that woman is carved by the gods!"
"Oh yeah," another cackled, slapping his knee. "I've watched it three times just for that! Worth every coin!"
"I'm planning to go again tonight," a third chimed in. "Honestly, Firfel's body should be declared a national treasure."
"Didn't even care about the ending," one of them shrugged, sipping his ale. "As long as that scene's in there, I'm good."
Their excitement wasn't subtle—and it certainly wasn't poetic—but it had the same effect: Titanic fever gripped them too.
Even those who hadn't watched it yet were now intrigued—if not by the tragic love story, then by the infamous scene itself.
"I heard there's a part where she's completely—"
"Say no more," someone interrupted, eyes wide. "Where's the nearest theater?"
And just like that, another ticket was sold.
---
For two days, Titanic screenings were held exclusively in the Horn Kingdom and the Morningstar Kingdom. Because of this limited release, official box office numbers were withheld from the public.
But anyone with a brain could guess the truth—it was staggering.
The film became an instant phenomenon. In every city, town, and village across both kingdoms, people couldn't stop talking about it. Cafés, bars, bathhouses, and even temple courtyards buzzed with discussion about Titanic.
And naturally, everyone assumed Hellfire was raking in a fortune.
The media followed suit. Headlines exploded across newspapers and TV networks:
"Firfel's Nude Scene Shocks and Captivates: Is This the Boldest Performance of the Year?"
"The Kiss in the Car—Too Hot for Horn?"
"Rose and Jack: The Romance That Lit the Kingdom on Fire"
Tabloids thrived. Even the most conservative papers couldn't resist covering the "spicy scenes," which only stoked curiosity—and ticket sales.
But that wasn't all.
Rumors began spreading that some couples were… doing things at the back of the theater. In the shadows. During that scene.
A few couples, when approached by reporters, didn't even deny it.
"We were just… caught up in the moment," one young woman said with a giggle, her partner nodding proudly beside her.
"He was Jack. I was Rose," she added, lips curling into a grin. "It felt romantic."
A new trend was born—Titanic-themed couple dates.
Some came in costume. Others whispered lines from the film to each other in the dark. One pair was overheard roleplaying during the movie:
"You jump, I jump—right into this love seat."
Theaters, for the first time in decades, became places not just for watching stories—but living them.
And for Hellfire?
Every single "unspeakable" thing whispered only translated to one result:
Sold out seats.
---
[Hellfire Park, Chairman's Office]
Arthur stood behind his polished desk, eyes fixed on the glowing screen in front of him. The box office numbers had just come in.
Eighty-seven million global dollars. In just two days.
And that was from only two kingdoms—Horn and Morningstar.
He leaned back, a smile creeping across his face.
"Unbelievable…" he muttered, scrolling through the financial breakdown. "Two small-market kingdoms, and we still broke records. With weaker local currencies, too…"
Even more impressive was the genre. A romantic tragedy based on a historical event—on paper, it shouldn't have exploded like this. But it did.
He chuckled. "Looks like repeated viewings by thirsty men really paid off."
But just as he was about to relish his success, his smile vanished.
His expression turned grim. Eyes widened. Jaw clenched.
Ding.
A hidden alarm in his mind had gone off—an arcane ripple tied to a personal protection spell.
The target: Firfel.
"Who dares... make a move on my turf!?"
The atmosphere in the room shifted. Shadows on the walls shimmered—and in a blink, black-cloaked figures emerged and kneeled before him.
They were the elite. The Hellsing operatives.
"You summoned us, boss?"
Arthur's voice turned cold. Deadly.
"It's time Hellfire's secret hand makes its presence known. Spread out in Horn Kingdom. I want every rat flushed out—no one escapes."
"Understood!" they answered in unison before vanishing like smoke.
---
[Ten Minutes Earlier – Horn City, Central District]
The bustling streets of Horn City were alive with chatter and magic lantern lights. In a high-end plaza, Firfel strolled alongside her sister Sylwen, arm-in-arm, basking in luxury. Vivienne trailed close behind.
Firfel had brought Sylwen here to let her taste the high life. Her missing sister, now miraculously found, deserved to experience it.
Vivienne, while delighted for Firfel, remained… cautious.
When Firfel told her she had finally found her long-lost sister, Vivienne had been thrilled—but suspicious. After all, Sylwen had been missing for years. No word. No trace.
Still, for Firfel's sake, she put her doubts aside.
She was polite. Even warm.
Until the air shifted.
Whoosh.
Figures in dark robes and masks appeared from every direction, forming a tight circle around the three women. Their weapons gleamed under the lantern light—blades curved, enchanted, and deadly.
"What is the meaning of this!?" Firfel barked, standing her ground.
Vivienne narrowed her eyes. "Who are you people?"
Sylwen? She stood frozen. Shaking. Not from fear—but familiarity.
Vivienne caught the change and frowned. "Firfel, back up. Something's off."
But before they could act, Sylwen spoke—her voice a trembling whisper.
"Don't fight them... You won't win. These men—these monsters—you can't imagine what they're capable of."
Firfel and Vivienne exchanged a quick glance, their confidence shaken by Sylwen's rare fear.
The air grew heavier. The tension crackled.
"Hehehe… Who would've thought you'd be enjoying yourself like this?"
The snake-masked man at the front stepped forward, his voice slithering with malice. "Codename Lala. It's been a while."
Sylwen's eyes narrowed. Her teeth clenched as soon as she recognized the voice behind the mask. "Viper…"
The man tilted his head smugly, unfazed.
"Ah, so you do remember me."
Viper—one of the Skull Organization's high-ranking enforcers. Back then, he was already a peak Supreme Mortal. That was years ago. Now, who knew how much stronger he'd become?
Sylwen braced herself. She believed in her strength—Arthur had helped her grow stronger than ever. She was ready to face him.
But there was a problem.
Viper wasn't alone.
Nine masked figures stood behind him. And Firfel… Vivienne… If a fight broke out here, they'd be caught in the crossfire.
'No. I need to report this to the boss—now!'
She immediately cast her telepathic spell.
But the moment she reached out—clang!—a mental wall slammed back at her mind.
Her eyes widened.
'A barrier!?'
Viper cackled. "Hahaha! Trying to send a message? Too bad, Lala. We expected you to rely on someone. So, we prepared for it. A mental barrier surrounds this entire block."
"You…" Sylwen whispered, frustrated. Her hands tightened into fists.
Vivienne caught the tension instantly. "Sylwen… what's going on? You know these people?"
Sylwen didn't answer.
Viper raised both arms, theatrically.
"Don't bother resisting. We're here to retrieve all of you."
He pointed forward.
"Take them."
The masked figures moved like shadows, spreading out.
Sylwen stepped forward. "Stay behind me," she told Firfel and Vivienne.
But Firfel was already summoning her magic.
"Like hell I will."
Vivienne cracked her knuckles.
"I'm not running either."
The clash was sudden and violent—but it was clear from the start. The enemy held the advantage. And time… was running out.