(Arthur POV)
While managing my studio projects, I devoted countless hours to perfecting my Shadow Clone Jutsu. Day by day, my grasp over the blend of magic and chakra grew stronger.
The challenge was considerable, but I finally achieved precise control over both energies. The breakthrough came when I discovered how to create shadow clones using predominantly magical power, requiring only minimal chakra input.
Two weeks of experimentation led to the perfect fusion - the right ratio, the precise control. My clones no longer depended heavily on chakra, making them viable in this world.
These enhanced clones could last up to two days - a remarkable achievement. They even retained the ability to cast magic, though spell usage drastically reduced their lifespan.
The Devourer Ring amplified my capabilities enormously. While I could theoretically produce thousands of clones, the magic had to be distributed carefully. Clones with 10,000 units of magical mana proved the most stable and efficient.
At maximum capacity, using all the Devourer Ring's reserves, I could maintain about 1,000 clones. But practicality demanded restraint.
I settled on a hundred clones, dividing them between multiple manga projects - "One Piece," "Dragon Ball," "Naruto," and "Hunter X Hunter."
Even this felt excessive. To avoid raising suspicions about impossibly rapid manga production, I needed to diversify. So I assigned teams to western comics as well - "Superman," "Batman," and "Spider-Man."
This split focus made the manga release schedule appear more reasonable. After all, multiple titles releasing simultaneously drew less attention than a single series updating at superhuman speed.
But manga was just the beginning. My remaining clones had another mission: accelerating anime production, with plans to venture into cartoon creation as well.
***
The Hellfire Electronics factory buzzed with focused energy as I entered alongside the manager.
Massive assembly lines churned out bulky monitors with thick glass screens and chunky keyboards that clicked with satisfying mechanical precision.
The computers themselves, running Hellfire OS 1, represented our answer to personal computing - their beige cases housing the future of technology.
The engineers I'd personally trained in computer assembly worked meticulously over circuit boards, applying the knowledge I'd shared with them. These bright minds, originally top graduates from Horn University's engineering programs, had adapted quickly to this revolutionary technology.
Factory workers moved with practiced efficiency, their hands flying over components as they assembled machine after machine. Even my presence as CEO didn't break their concentration - if anything, they seemed to work with greater intensity.
"Production's been steady for weeks now, boss," Norman reported, his half-demon heritage visible in the slight points of his ears. "We've hit 2,000 units manufactured."
The number satisfied me. As our main production facility, this factory's output dwarfed our smaller operations. While other plants struggled to produce even a hundred units, this one proved my heavy investment worthwhile.
After discussing production details with Norman for some time, I pulled out a folded paper. "I need about hundreds of computers delivered to this location." I handed him the address.
Norman's eyes widened as he read the paper, his pointed ears twitching slightly - a habit I'd noticed when something caught him off guard. His mouth opened briefly as if to ask a question, but quickly closed again. Being a half-demon, he was naturally curious, but his professional instincts won out. "It will be done," he managed, trying to hide his evident confusion at such a large single order.
I smiled, giving his shoulder a pat as I turned to leave. What Norman didn't know was that these computers were headed to my newly acquired warehouse - officially labeled "Hellfire Animation Studio" under the Hellfire Anime Studio banner.
There, my shadow clones worked tirelessly, some hunched over manga pages and comic panels, while others occupied the larger space dedicated to animation production.
Soon, I'd create hundreds more clones for the animation section. After all, bringing anime to this world required an army - even if that army consisted entirely of myself.
***
(3rd Person POV)
Dragon Ball's debut sent shockwaves through the previously quiet animation industry.
Every media outlet, from television networks to newspapers, scrambled to cover this new phenomenon called "anime." But nowhere did it spark more heated discussion than in the United States of Empirica, where media giants turned the coverage into a racial controversy.
Angels Daily's provocative headline blazed across newsstands: "New entertainment form by 'demon' Arthur Pendragon gains foothold in USE and human realms. Threat looms over human entertainment as Hellfire challenges Mr. Mouse's animation dominance."
The paper's bias showed clearly in its careful placement of "demon" before Arthur's name, implying that entertainment from demon hands somehow threatened human cultural purity.
"Good Morning Empirica," a leading news program, reported with barely concealed alarm: "Mr. Mouse TV Network ratings plummet during Dragon Ball airtime, according to Pendragon Rating System."
Emerging networks amplified these concerns, framing anime not just as new entertainment, but as an invasion of traditional human media space.
The anxiety spread beyond human territories. Elven entertainment moguls watched their carefully crafted nature documentaries lose viewers. Dwarven studios saw their technical showcases overshadowed by Arthur's innovations.
What truly rattled them wasn't just Dragon Ball's success, but Arthur's seemingly endless supply of revolutionary ideas. His "movie trailers" alone had transformed film promotion, helping Harry Potter rake in hundreds of millions - a feat that left traditional studios both envious and terrified.
To them, Arthur Pendragon represented more than competition; he was reshaping entertainment itself, breaking down centuries-old barriers between races through shared media experiences. And that, perhaps, frightened them most of all.
***
Mr. Mouse Entertainment, reeling from Dragon Ball's impact on their viewership, mounted their counter-offensive. The channel began flooding their airwaves with cartoons, dusting off their extensive archive of classic animations while rushing new productions to screen.
Fresh titles like "Pussy Cat and the Dogs" joined their lineup, helping recover some lost viewers. Yet whenever Dragon Ball's time slot arrived, Mr. Mouse's ratings still plummeted.
Their saving grace? Dragon Ball only commanded thirty minutes of daily programming, commercials included, on Hellfire Network.
Walter Mouse, founder and CEO of Mouse Entertainment, finally broke his silence in a heated interview. "What's happening to us, Empiricans?" he demanded, his whiskers practically bristling with indignation. "Why are we embracing a demon's work - a blatant copy of our animation innovation? They've even had the audacity to rename our 'cartoons' as 'anime'! We should be protesting this cultural theft, not celebrating it!"
His thinly veiled attack on Hellfire struck a chord with many Empiricans. While Dragon Ball maintained its dedicated fanbase, a growing faction sided with Mouse Entertainment. The idea that a demon company would not only imitate their animation style but rebrand it with a new term felt like a slight against Empirican cultural heritage.
The controversy sparked heated debates across USE. Many Empiricans who had initially embraced Dragon Ball now questioned their support, viewing the term "anime" as demons disrespecting their pioneering work in animation - or as they insisted on calling it, cartoons.
Tension erupted outside Hellfire Network's Angel City branch as protesters packed the streets. Their leader, red-faced with righteous anger, thrust his fist into the air. "Animation is a human Empirican invention!" he roared through his megaphone. "You demons think you can steal our culture by slapping the word 'anime' on it? This is our heritage!"
The crowd behind him swelled with answering shouts, waving signs condemning Hellfire's "cultural theft."
From his office, Marcus Shadowclaw, the feline demon serving as Hellfire's USE president, watched through a crack in the protective blinds. His tail lashed anxiously. "This is getting out of hand. Boss Arthur needs to know about this immediately."
The other executives huddled around conference tables, monitoring the situation through various windows, when a fiend demon burst through the door, smoke curling behind him. "Sir! They've started throwing fireballs at the building! We need to contact the fire brigade!"
The president and executives exchanged horrified glances before rushing for the exits, the smell of smoke growing stronger with each passing second.