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Lord of Entertainment C351 Public Humiliation
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 16:23:29 +0000 UTC(3rd Person POV)
Many noblemen who had no intention of repaying their credit card dues were feeling smug. To them, the interest charges were meaningless pocket change. They dismissed the warning letters sent by Hellfire Bank—whether through enchanted mail or directly via their home computers.
One of them chuckled as he tossed yet another notice into the fireplace. “Only fools actually pay off these so-called credit cards,” he muttered, watching the letter curl into ash.
They saw no benefit in repaying what they considered a ‘temporary privilege.’
But what they failed to consider was their wives and daughters—and that would be their first and most critical mistake.
Unbeknownst to these arrogant lords, their noblewomen had fully embraced the credit card culture. It had become more than a convenience—it was a status symbol, a ticket to prestige.
So much so that they even formed an exclusive society: The Lady’s Ledger.
The club’s founder? None other than Queen Margaret of the Horn Kingdom herself.
Every Sunday and Monday, she hosted private gatherings for the kingdom’s noblewomen at Hellscape Mall—the only shopping mall that fully accepted credit and debit card payments.
On this particular morning, the latest gathering was about to begin.
At the reserved halls of Hellscape, noblewomen in dazzling dresses arrived one by one, their laughter bright and faces glowing with anticipation.
Queen Margaret stood with poise and grace, smiling warmly at her guests. “Welcome again, ladies. As your queen, I thank you for attending this humble gathering.”
A chorus of flattery followed immediately.
“Your Majesty, it’s our honor. We always look forward to these little adventures.”
“Hehe, I can’t wait to use my husband’s credit card again.”
Laughter echoed like bells.
“I heard Union Love just released their newest line of luxury handbags!”
“I’ve been eyeing the ivory one. And perhaps a fine watch for my darling lord, if I’m feeling generous.”
Queen Margaret’s smile deepened. She looked radiant, basking in the joy of the social ritual.
The manager of Hellscape Mall personally welcomed them as they began their shopping spree, moving gracefully from one luxury boutique to the next…
Until—
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Your credit card has been declined.”
The cheerful rhythm of the day froze.
A noblewoman blinked in disbelief, staring at the cashier. “What? That must be a mistake. Try again.”
The cashier nodded and swiped it once more.
Then, a pause. A soft chime.
She bowed politely. “Apologies. The system confirms that the card has reached its maximum limit.”
The noblewoman stood frozen, her cheeks slowly turning crimson.
Behind her, whispers began to rise.
“Hehe… it must mean her husband didn’t pay the bill.”
“Tsk. How embarrassing.”
“What a shame. A gold-tier card… wasted.”
The noblewoman’s pride cracked as her so-called friends offered her nothing but silent judgment and smug glances.
After the humiliated noblewoman shuffled away with her head low, the next customer stepped forward with quiet grace.
It was Emelie Nightstar, the Queen’s daughter—and the fiancée of the heir to House Ebonclaw.
The cashier swiped her golden credit card.
Approved.
A soft chime rang, and the women around her smiled knowingly.
“As expected of Second Princess Emelie. Smooth as silk.”
“Looks like the heir of Ebonclaw has deep pockets for his princess.”
Emelie returned their compliments with a modest smile, bowed slightly, and continued on to the next luxury store.
Queen Margaret watched her daughter with pride… until it was her own turn at the register.
She presented her card with royal composure.
Swipe... Chime...
Declined...
The cashier froze.
“Th-There must be something wrong with the system, Your Majesty,” she stammered, avoiding eye contact as Margaret’s expression tightened.
She tried again.
Still declined.
The atmosphere in the store shifted. The room fell quiet as glances were exchanged.
“Wait… is that what I think it is?”
“The Queen… hasn’t paid her credit card?”
A plump noblewoman with a sharp tongue fanned herself theatrically. “But she’s the founder of the Lady’s Ledger!”
Margaret smiled politely, though her eyes no longer sparkled.
On the inside, however, her thoughts were boiling over.
‘Magnus… You’re dead when I get home.’
•••
Meanwhile, at the Horn Kingdom’s castle...
King Magnus sat leisurely in the throne room, browsing a pile of parchment scrolls.
“Achoo!” He sneezed loudly, rubbing his nose.
“Hmm… Must be catching a cold again.”
Blissfully unaware of the wrath barreling toward him.
---
At the House of Fellwing...
Anna stood in her father’s study, arms crossed, frustration etched into her brow.
“Dad, I want to go shopping with my friends!”
Ferdinand barely looked up from his chair. “Go. I’m not stopping you.”
“I need a credit card!” she snapped.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. “How many times do I have to say this? That credit card’s finished. Maxed out. Dead. Just use the money I gave you.”
“But my friends all have cards!” Anna cried. “If I show up with cash, I’ll look like some broke commoner! It’s humiliating!”
“My decision is final,” Ferdinand replied, voice flat.
“Ugh!” Anna stomped the floor and stormed out.
He stared at the door for a moment, then muttered under his breath: “Honestly… what’s wrong with that girl?”
He sighed again.
“Letting her near that card was clearly a mistake.”
Ferdinand shook his head, dismissing the entire matter.
To him, not paying a credit card bill was no big deal. Just a letter. Just a number.
What could possibly happen?
Unbeknownst to him, the headache was only beginning.
He, along with many nobles and royals, failed to grasp what the credit card was becoming.
In their minds, it was just a banking gimmick. A passing trend.
What they didn’t realize… was that the credit card was quietly evolving into a new symbol of status.
At first, it was just the noblewomen—fashion-forward and influence-heavy—who latched onto its prestige.
But in just a month, the ripples had reached beyond court salons and royal lounges.
Even among the elites and rising middle class, among the merchants and boutique owners, credit cards were being embraced for one simple reason: convenience.
Of course, the heaviest users were women. Housewives, matrons, and daughters who frequented groceries, salons, and dress shops.
And where women gathered… so too did gossip.
And gossip, as always, spread like wildfire.
The whispers began quietly—soft murmurs during shopping sprees.
"Did you hear? Lady so-and-so’s card declined."
"Even Queen Margaret's payment failed—right there in public."
Scandals brewed in teacups and laughter masked judgment.
The noblewomen shared these stories not out of cruelty, but out of sport. Status now had a plastic face—and whether you were royal or not, failing to pay meant social embarrassment.
However, what truly ignited the gossip wildfire was a new segment on Hellfire Network’s rising entertainment talk show, Gossip Anywhere. The show, still gaining traction, had already built a reputation for mixing celebrity scoops with noble scandals.
It was hosted by a charismatic young man named Dane—the same Dane who played Fabrizio in the yet-to-be-released Titanic movie.
With an excited grin and open arms, Dane addressed the live audience, “Ladies and gentlemen, have you heard? Several noble houses—yes, even from the mighty Three Major Houses—are behind on their credit card bills!”
The audience gasped. Sound effects followed with dramatic flair.
“And get this,” Dane leaned closer, voice lowering like a conspirator, “one of the patriarchs of a major noble house is completely ignoring his dues!”
The crowd murmured in disbelief.
“But don’t worry,” he said, clapping once. “Let’s make it fun. We’ve prepared a little game for our viewers at home. Guess the answer right, and you could win 500 HKD!”
He grinned wider.
“Here’s the question: Which proud patriarch from one of the Three Major Houses failed to pay his credit card dues? Clue: His name starts with F. And—get this—his family name also starts with F.”
The viewers—noble and commoner alike—sat up straighter.
Everyone knew.
There was only one noble house from the Big Three with that alliterative signature.
Fellwing.
And only one patriarch who fit the bill.
Ferdinand Fellwing.
Gasps echoed through manor halls and common living rooms alike. Telephones rang across the capital as nobles called their friends. Whispers turned into waves.
Within minutes, tens of thousands of viewers now knew one undeniable truth:
Ferdinand Fellwing—the current head of House Fellwing—was officially outed on live broadcast as a credit card defaulter.
Comments
Tyler Karp
Thank you for the chapter
