The Hellfire Walkman became an overnight sensation.
Thanks to its aggressive marketing—TV ads, glowing billboards, and sleek posters plastered across bus stops and train stations—the sleek little music device quickly dominated the public's attention.
While all age groups showed interest, its biggest fanbase came from youth aged sixteen to thirty. They loved music, and the Walkman gave them the freedom to listen anywhere, anytime.
At Horn City's Public High School, inside a sunny third-floor classroom, a group of students huddled excitedly around one of their classmates.
A young incubus with tousled gray hair leaned back confidently in his seat, casually wearing an earpiece and holding the sought-after device in hand.
"C'mon, Louis, just let me try it once!" one student begged.
"Me too! I want to hear that new track!"
The incubus—Louis—sighed, clearly enjoying the attention. With a smirk, he turned toward a particular classmate.
"Alright, alright... Keith, you can go first."
The pretty demoness blinked in surprise. She had long black hair, deep violet eyes, and the quiet grace of a well-trained mage. She hesitated for a beat before smiling.
He handed her one of the earpieces. As she placed it gently in her ear, Louis pressed play.
The moment the music began, Keith's eyes widened.
"Whoa," she whispered. "The sound is so clear... And this song—it's really good!"
The others leaned in, trying to get her reaction.
"What's it feel like?"
"Hey, save a turn for me!"
But Keith didn't answer. A warm, tingling sensation was spreading through her chest. Her mind, previously cluttered with school stress, slowly relaxed. Her breathing slowed. Her mood lifted like a veil had been removed.
And then she noticed it.
"...There's magic," she said aloud, brows furrowing. "This song—it has a magical calming effect!"
Louis blinked. "Wait, seriously?"
Even he hadn't noticed it. But he could tell by Keith's tone—it wasn't just placebo.
The other students went wild.
"Magic? From a song?"
"I knew it felt weirdly good..."
One by one, Louis began offering the earpiece—though only to the girls, of course.
The boys groaned loudly.
"Tch. Typical incubus behavior."
"Can't believe we're being sidelined over here..."
Meanwhile, across Horn City, similar moments unfolded.
A man in the middle of a road rage meltdown paused as soon as he slipped on his Walkman. His breath steadied. His grip on the steering wheel loosened.
Others—cafe workers, soldiers, exhausted shopkeepers—felt the same strange peace wash over them as soon as the music played.
It didn't take long for the phenomenon to catch the attention of experts.
News outlets ran with the headlines:
"Hellfire Walkman: Magical Music, or Just Smart Marketing?" – Horn Music Weekly
"Science Daily: Walkman-Induced Serenity—Experts Weigh In on the Surprising Calming Effect"
Magic circles, academic publications, and even televised broadcasts began dissecting the device. Analysts attributed the effect to advanced enchantments built into the Walkman.
None of them realized the truth.
It wasn't the Walkman.
It was Joseph Jackson.
The first track embedded into the device—Joseph's debut single—was infused with a subtle, unconscious spell. His rare and misunderstood gift: ‹Musical Magic›.
And the world was just beginning to feel its touch.
Sales of the Hellfire Walkman continued to skyrocket with each passing day. What started as a curious gadget powered by a single track—Joseph Jackson's debut, "Don't Stop Til' You Get Enough"—soon became a cultural phenomenon.
While the Walkman initially featured only that one song, its music library steadily grew, now including hit tracks from bands like Nirvana and Queen. This expanding selection kept excitement alive, preventing the typical sales drop most products experienced after launch.
Still, it was Joseph's song that held the spotlight.
Despite being new to the scene, "Don't Stop Til' You Get Enough" quickly climbed the charts, going head-to-head with long-standing hits like Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and Queen's "We Are the Champions". Those two songs had dominated for nearly two years—but now, a new contender was turning heads.
The August issue of Horn Music Weekly placed Joseph's track within the Top 30, a feat few newcomers had ever achieved. According to audience surveys, the song was especially popular among young people.
While its initial popularity could be attributed to the fact that it came bundled for free with every Hellfire Walkman, something deeper kept listeners hooked.
It wasn't just the beat, or Joseph's voice—it was the way the song felt.
Listeners described the track as calming, even uplifting. Many reported feeling lighter, more focused, more... balanced after listening. Even die-hard Nirvana and Queen fans admitted that Joseph's debut had an inexplicable energy to it—something even legendary tracks couldn't replicate.
On the Hellbook Music Forums, discussions about the Hellfire Walkman exploded in popularity. Within days, the threads had amassed thousands of posts, comments, and shares.
One trending post read:
"Hellfire just doesn't stop, huh? First films, then computers, and now a music device? I bet the radio stations are sweating bullets right now."
Music enthusiasts across the platform buzzed with awe. Many expressed admiration for Hellfire's evolution—what had begun as a film studio had grown into a media empire, expanding into home entertainment, computers, and now portable music tech.
In one of the most active subthreads, Arthur Pendragon's die-hard fan group lit up the board:
"The Great Exiled One strikes again. I'll bet the Morningstar family regrets casting him out now."
"Everything the boss touches turns to gold. He's unstoppable."
"I became a fan because of his films. But now? I'm a fan of everything he does."
Meanwhile, a separate post about the Walkman's free bundled track began trending. The title was simple:
"Anyone else blown away by the free song? Who is this singer??"
Replies poured in by the hundreds:
"His voice is so smooth... I swear, listening to it calms my anxiety. Who is he?"
"Rumor has it Arthur just signed a new artist to Hellfire Records."
"No info yet, but I'm already a fan. I've had the song on loop since I bought the Walkman."
As the comments kept coming, forums across the internet lit up. In other kingdoms connected to the web, curious users stumbled upon the hype—but were frustrated to find the Hellfire Walkman exclusive to the Horn Kingdom.
"I live in Choson and I'm dying to try it."
"Why wasn't I born in Horn Kingdom..."
"They get everything first. It's so unfair."
While the computer and Hellfire Entertainment System were once considered the crown jewels of the company's electronics division, the Walkman had quickly eclipsed them in both sales and cultural impact. Gaming, for all its popularity, still catered to a specific audience.
Music transcended age, gender, and background. It belonged to everyone.
And now, everyone wanted the Walkman. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ N0v3l.Fiɾe.net