Motostoke City—the first industrialized and modernized city in the Galar Region. It was full of steam-powered mechanical charm, and in Edward's mind, it was the perfect stand-in for London.
London was often called "The Foggy City," but that nickname didn't come from natural weather. Rather, it came from the heavy industrial smog that blanketed London during the Industrial Revolution. Of course, foggy weather did contribute somewhat, but Edward personally believed the nickname stemmed entirely from industrial pollution—only people tried to beautify it by attributing it to climate.
Motostoke, however, differed from London in one notable way—it wasn't cloaked in fog. On the contrary, if you looked up, you could see a clear blue sky and fluffy white clouds, giving one a refreshing and open feeling.
"Zoroark, arrange for a visit to the Galar Region's Pokémon Association to recruit some actors. First, we need a Pikachu with good acting skills. Second, we need a Malamar," Edward said as he stood at the airport and gave instructions to the Zoroark by his side.
Pikachu was to play the role of Holmes's assistant, essentially fulfilling the role of Watson, while Malamar was to act as a subordinate of Moriarty—a surface-level villain to appear early on. Only after defeating Malamar would the true villain, Moriarty, be revealed.
Originally, Edward had intended for Malamar to serve as Moriarty's "Watson"—his close assistant—but Giovanni had firmly rejected that. He thought his Beedrill was better suited for the role. After seeing Giovanni's Beedrill, Edward had to agree.
There are two kinds of Beedrill in this world—Giovanni's Beedrill and everyone else's.
Whenever Giovanni's Beedrill appeared, it exuded a sense of oppressive dominance. Edward was incredibly curious about how Giovanni had trained it—he even suspected Giovanni might possess the legendary Viridian Power.
"Understood, boss. Also, this is the list of investors for the series. Would you like to take a look?" Zoroark recorded the casting request, then handed Edward a document. Edward took it and gave it a glance.
News had gotten out that he was directing a detective series, and several major film companies had quickly moved to invest. The list was filled with the usual big names—nothing surprising. Given their status in their respective regional leagues, no small company dared to challenge them.
Expecting a startup to go up against such titans was like asking a child who just graduated from elementary school to take on the Infinity Gauntlet-wielding Thanos in a 1v1.
The total investment this time was more reasonable. The first season of Holmes had only three episodes, and they'd secured a total investment of 100 million. That meant Edward had about 33 million per episode to work with.
"These numbers…" Edward rubbed his temples. This was just the investment—he hadn't even factored in the wave of advertisers approaching him.
After the success of Dead Silence and One Missed Call, more advertisers had started knocking on his door. Though those movies' themes limited the scope of potential sponsors, Edward's Tom and Jerry had attracted tons of advertisers.
Now, when he made a new Tom and Jerry, not only did he not have to spend a cent—he'd actually make a profit. It was downright surreal.
With the upcoming detective series being modern and suspenseful, advertisers were even more eager. There was no shortage of product placement opportunities in such a setting.
"Pick out the advertisers with a solid reputation—those unlikely to have any scandals. Get rid of the rest," Edward said, flipping through the thick list.
He wasn't short on money, and neither was the Holmes crew. Even without any ads, the funding from major investors would be enough to shoot the show and polish it to perfection. After all, each episode had a 30+ million budget.
That said, there was no harm in accepting a few select advertisements. Edward just didn't want any future disasters—imagine a sponsor getting embroiled in a scandal right after the show aired. That would mean reshoots and editing, wasting time and effort.
"Got it." Zoroark jotted it down and left to handle the task. Edward wasn't concerned—he had full confidence in Zoroark's abilities.
Turning his head, Edward saw Giovanni and Daniel reading through the script. It was the first episode, one that had been carefully revised through discussion. The opening episode was adapted from A Study in Scarlet, told primarily from Watson's point of view as he met the great detective Holmes and became his roommate.
In Edward's version, however, Moriarty would make an early appearance, engaging Holmes in a battle of wits. From there, the story would follow Holmes's solo adventures, with the first season culminating in the revelation of a larger dark force lurking behind both Motostoke and the Galar Region.
It was a setup meant to lay the groundwork for the next season.
"What do you think?" Edward asked, walking over. The legal staff had gone to arrange transportation—so many people and so much equipment wouldn't fit in taxis. Buses had been prepared in advance, and Zoroark had arranged everything; they just needed to be picked up.
"It's an incredible script. I must say, the character you've created could easily become the most iconic detective in the entire Pokémon League," Giovanni praised. He was genuinely impressed by the writing and very eager to perform.
The only issue was Moriarty. The more Giovanni read the character's lines and description, the more he felt like the role was secretly about himself.
Edward just smiled.
This was Sherlock Holmes.
If you asked who the most famous fictional detective in history was, most people would immediately say Sherlock Holmes.
Sure, there were other brilliant literary detectives—Hercule Poirot, Raymond Chandler's hard-boiled types—but their fame was mostly confined to the realm of mystery lovers. Sherlock Holmes, on the other hand, was universally recognized.
"This role… is really challenging," Daniel said quietly, his tone humble.
It was his first time playing a lead—and in an Edward-directed series. The pressure was immense. After reading the script, it only intensified.
Some actors get stuck in a loop of low-quality productions because that's their comfort zone. They don't need to act particularly well—just show up and do the basics.
But a good script, one with real substance, is incredibly attractive—and also very demanding. That's exactly what SherlockHolmes was. The Sherlock Holmes character was so charismatic, so well-written, that it made Daniel feel the full weight of expectation.
(End of Chapter)