(3rd Person POV)
Delly studied Arthur for a long moment, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his tone was almost casual. "I'm willing to part with all three of my theatres for two thousand gold."
Arthur blinked.
A grin spread across Delly's face. The fool thought it was too expensive. "What's the matter? Can't afford it?"
Arthur shook his head slowly. "No, it's just—I expected to pay more." He let out a quiet sigh, barely suppressing a smirk. "Cheaper than I thought. I'll take them."
Delly's grin faltered. "What?" His fists clenched beneath the table. This arrogant brat had just called his theatres cheap.
"You're not backing out now, are you?" Arthur's eyes fixed on him. "You said two thousand for all three."
"Of course not. I stand by my word." Delly forced his jaw to unclench and pulled a stack of papers from his coat. "I've prepared the contracts already. We can finalize everything right here."
Arthur leaned forward, examining him carefully. 'Something's off. He's too eager to sell. Why the rush?' The thought nagged at him, but he kept his expression neutral. 'No matter. Whatever petty scheme he's running won't change the outcome.'
"Leonard, prepare two thousand gold," Arthur said.
Leonard nodded and left the room.
While they waited, Arthur tilted his head. "I'm curious—why sell your 'precious' theatres to me? Especially with such urgency." He paused. "I thought you wanted to monopolize every theatre in the city."
Delly's mask of composure nearly cracked. He gestured toward Arthur dismissively. "Do I need to spell it out? Your damned films have destroyed my profits. My theatres are bleeding money. I can't sustain them anymore."
"I see." Arthur's tone suggested he saw far more than Delly intended.
Leonard returned, setting a heavy pouch on the table with a solid thunk. Delly's eyes lit up as he cast a quick spell to verify the contents. Two thousand gold, exactly as promised.
Arthur reached for the contracts, but before he could read the first line, Delly slapped his palm on the table. "Let's—let's sign quickly. Those documents are legitimate—bound by magical contract. Once you sign, all three theatres are yours. If I've deceived you, the Duke Hartvel himself couldn't protect me from arrest."
Arthur nodded slowly. "Fair enough." He picked up the pen with deliberate casualness and signed.
The papers flared with golden light as the magical binding took effect. The transaction was complete.
"Excellent. The theatres are yours now." Delly stood abruptly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way. Thank you for your business."
The moment the door closed behind him, Leonard turned to Arthur, concern etched across his face. "My lord, are you certain about this? Something feels wrong. He was too eager—almost desperate to hand them over."
Arthur smiled. "I know." He tapped the contract thoughtfully. "I read something interesting in these papers. That's precisely why Delly wanted me to buy them. He's setting a trap—creating problems he expects will force me to sell everything back to him."
Leonard's eyebrows rose. "And you signed anyway?"
Arthur chuckled. "His plan isn't bad. It might even work on someone else." He leaned back in his chair. "But for me? It's just an opportunity. His schemes will only serve my purposes."
Leonard said nothing. He'd learned long ago not to doubt Arthur's judgment.
Everything Arthur did had a reason. Leonard had seen enough to know how deep the man's calculations ran.
---
Outside, Delly walked briskly down the street, his butler Aldous keeping pace beside him.
"Was it truly wise to sell your theatres at such a price, my lord?" Aldous asked quietly.
"Of course!" Delly's grin widened. "I've arranged everything perfectly. The noble contracts tied to those theatres—all those obligations transfer to Arthur the moment he signed. That's the real cost of buying my properties at a 'reasonable' price."
Aldous studied his master. "Ah. You're forcing him to deal with nobles he's never met, under contracts he didn't negotiate. He'll either offend them or exhaust himself trying to satisfy impossible terms."
"Exactly." Delly's laugh was sharp. "When he realizes what he's inherited, he'll have no choice but to sell the theatres back—probably at a loss. And by then, he'll be so desperate he'll do whatever I ask."
"A cunning plan, master."
"That bastard needs to learn his place." Delly's smile turned cold. "Let's see how arrogant he is when nobles start making demands."
---
That afternoon, Arthur toured the Northern, Western, and Southern Theatres with Firfel, Sylwen, and Apollonia.
Each building was smaller than the Eastern Theatre—considerably so. Arthur could see why Lykan had clung to his pride despite his struggling business. At least he'd owned the largest venue in the district.
Still, the three properties weren't in bad shape. Decent bones, solid foundations. Arthur walked through each space, mentally cataloging changes. A few modifications to the seating arrangements, some renovations to convert wasted space into broadcast areas—nothing he couldn't handle.
He hired workers that same day.
The next few days blurred into organized chaos.
Then, within the week, all three theatres began promoting The Wizard of Oz. The film opened simultaneously across the Northern, Western, and Southern locations.
The Eastern Theatre had been packed to capacity—turning away customers every showing. Now, with four venues running the film, the crowds dispersed throughout the district. People flocked to whichever theatre was closest.
Profits tripled almost overnight.
The backlash came just as quickly.
"What the hell is this!?" A handsome man in his thirties—clearly nobility from the cut of his clothes—stood in the center of the Northern Theatre's lobby, his voice echoing off the walls. "This theatre is supposed to be my private venue for entertaining guests! What are all these commoners doing here!?"
The crowd, mostly working-class patrons, scattered immediately. No one wanted trouble with a noble.
Similar scenes erupted at the Western and Southern Theatres. Nobles arrived with complaints, contracts in hand, faces red with indignation.
Arthur sat in his office at the Eastern Theatre the next morning, reading the incident reports. A smile tugged at his lips. "So this is your petty scheme, Delly."
He wasn't bothered. If anything, he welcomed it.
He'd been considering how to approach the nobles himself, but apparently there was no need. They came to him instead—escorted by Wizard Knights, no less.
"This is the man!" A portly noble jabbed a finger toward Arthur. "He's violated our agreements with the theatres!"
"Exactly!" Another noble stepped forward, a woman with elaborate jewelry that clinked as she moved. "My family's crest was removed from the Western Theatre! That crest represents our sponsorship—our support of the performing arts! How dare you erase it!"
"Yesterday was my anniversary," a younger noblewoman said, her voice tight with anger. "We had an arrangement with Master Delly—the entire Southern Theatre reserved for a private celebration. Instead, I arrived to find it packed with common rabble! And completely renovated without notice!"
More voices joined the chorus. Complaints layered over complaints.
Arthur listened calmly, his expression neutral. Which only seemed to infuriate them further.
One of the nobles turned to the Wizard Knights. "Arrest this man immediately! He's in breach of legally binding agreements!"
"At minimum, he must honor the original contracts and compensate us for damages!"
Arthur raised a hand. The room quieted slightly. "Honorable ladies and gentlemen, I'm willing to dissolve these contracts and provide appropriate compensation. Simply name your price."
Friedrich—the noble who'd caused the scene at the Northern Theatre—looked as if he'd been slapped. "Do you know who I am?" He pressed a hand to his chest. "I am Friedrich von Eisenhart. I don't care about your money. I'm a nobleman—we value honor and prestige, not gold!"
"Precisely!" another noble chimed in. "Money means nothing to us! We want recognition! Status!"
"Everyone should know that we are powerful and influential!"
"Accepting a cash settlement would be a sign of decline!"
The voices overlapped, each noble trying to speak over the others.
Arthur kept his eyes closed, listening to the cacophony with apparent patience. 'Ah. So they're not actually concerned about the contracts. They're hungry for fame and attention.' The corner of his mouth twitched. 'That makes this considerably easier.'
He opened his eyes, and the slight smile on his face made several nobles pause mid-complaint.