First Mission

Now, if I could just figure out how to use this thing without looking like I was swatting at invisible flies...

I glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then tentatively reached out to touch the floating interface. To my surprise, my finger actually made contact with... something. It wasn't solid, more like a tingle of energy.

Suddenly, a new notification popped up:

[First Mission: Make your first ever film that will be a box office success.]

[Reward: Computer Technologies]

I nearly tripped over my own feet. Computer Technologies? As in, the stuff of my previous life? My mind started racing with possibilities. Programming, video games, and who knows what else?

It was like being offered the holy grail of entertainment. And all I had to do was make a successful film? Ha! Piece of cake. I mean, how hard could it be, right?

...Right?

As I walked down the bustling demon-filled street, my excitement was tempered by the reality around me. Sure, we'd entered the industrial age, but let's face it – our entertainment scene was about as exciting as watching paint dry on a hellhound.

Don't get me wrong, the books and films we had were keeping me from losing my mind completely. But if I'm being honest? I was bored out of my skull most of the time. There's only so many times you can read "101 Ways to Terrorize a Human" before it gets old.

But now? Now I had a chance to shake things up. To make this world a little less dull, a little more... fun.

I couldn't help but grin. Me, the family disappointment, the demon who couldn't even summon a decent fireball – I was going to revolutionize entertainment in this world.

Of course, there was the small matter of actually making a film. And making it successful. Oh, and doing it all without anyone finding out about my magical floating computer buddy.

No pressure or anything.

But as I looked around at the same old dreary demon world, with its predictable chaos and mind-numbing "evil" routines, I felt a spark of determination. This world needed a shake-up, and I was just the demon to do it.

Now, if I could just figure out where to get a camera in a world that thinks "moving pictures" means portraits that occasionally blink...

This was going to be interesting. And by interesting, I mean probably a complete disaster. But hey, at least it wouldn't be boring.

First things first, though. I needed cash. Cold, hard demon dollars to fund this crazy film project of mine.

I had about 10,000 dollars squirreled away in savings. Now, before you start laughing, let me put that in perspective. In my previous life that would be like 100,000 bucks. Not too shabby, right?

...Except when you compare it to my siblings' savings. Then it's about as impressive as a imp's fireball. But who cares? For once, I had an advantage. Sure, it was a weird, possibly hallucination-induced advantage, but I'll take what I can get.

As I trudged towards Ferland Bank, my mind was buzzing with film ideas. What could I make on a shoestring budget that would still knock demons' socks off?

I thought back to some classic low-budget hits from my previous life. "Night of the Living Dead"? Nah, demons would think it's a comedy. "The Blair Witch Project"? Please, that's like a typical Tuesday in the demon realm. "Clerks"? Hmm... that could work if I replaced the convenience store with a soul-trading post...

But first, I needed to get my hands on a decent camera. And not just any camera – a color one. I'd been tinkering with camera tech for a while now. See, while I'm about as magically gifted as a potato, I've got a knack for mechanics. Go figure.

I even tried praying to the dwarven god of craftsmanship once. Fat lot of good that did. Turns out, demon prayers don't exactly zoom to the top of their priority list.

Finally, I reached Ferland Bank. As I walked in, the smell of brimstone and old money hit me like a wall. Ah, the sweet aroma of capitalism, demon-style.

"I'd like to withdraw my entire savings," I told the teller, trying to sound princely and not at all like I was about to blow it all on a harebrained scheme.

The teller's eyes bugged out so far I thought they might pop out of her skull. Which, you know, isn't entirely impossible for some demon subspecies. She scurried off to get the manager faster than a human running from a hellhound.

The manager appeared, all oily smiles and obsequious bows. "Prince Arthur! What an... unexpected pleasure. We just need to verify your identity. Standard procedure, you understand."

Yeah, standard procedure my horns. But I plastered on my best "I'm-a-prince-don't-question-me" smile and went along with it. Signatures were scribbled, identities confirmed, and finally, I had my cash.

As I walked out, I could practically hear the whispers. "There goes the worthless prince, probably off to waste his money on more human nonsense."

If they only knew. I was about to create something this realm had never seen before. A cinematic masterpiece. Or a complete train wreck. Either way, it was going to be one hell of a show.

With my newly acquired funds burning a hole in my pocket, I set my sights on the center district. If there was a decent camera to be found in this realm, that's where it'd be.

I shuffled over to the nearest bus stop, trying not to look like I was carrying enough cash to buy a small hellhound farm. A few minutes later, a bus that had definitely seen better days (probably in the last century) screeched to a halt in front of me. I climbed aboard, the smell of brimstone and regret hitting me like a wall.

As I plopped down on a seat that was more spring than cushion, I could feel the weight of demonic stares boring into me. Great. Just what I needed – an audience.

Part of me wanted to stand up and announce, "Yes, it's me, your favorite trashy demon prince! Please, hold your applause." But even I'm not that self-deprecating. Instead, I just sank lower in my seat and pretended to be fascinated by the graffiti on the window. "Humans suck" – how original.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally reached the center district. I practically leapt off the bus, grateful to escape the silent judgment of my fellow passengers.

As I approached the electronics market, a wall of noise hit me. For a place selling cutting-edge tech, it sounded more like a medieval bazaar than a Best Buy. But that's demon commerce for you — why have a quiet, orderly shopping experience when you can have chaos and haggling?

The market sprawled out before me, a maze of stalls mostly run by dwarves.

And the noise? By all that's unholy, it was deafening. They were shouting, bargaining, and occasionally threatening customers with well-crafted hammers, and was that... was that a chicken? In an electronics market?

I wove through the crowd, dodging elbows and the occasional fireball (someone haggling over prices, no doubt). The cacophony was enough to give even a demon a headache.

As I weaved through the chaos of the market, a familiar face popped into my mind. George, my dwarf buddy. We'd spent countless hours tinkering with gadgets together, though most of our experiments ended with a bang. Literally. The guy had a talent for making things go boom.

Still, he might know where to find a decent camera. Or at least point me in the direction of someone who wouldn't try to sell me a cardboard box with "CAMRA" scribbled on it.