When it came to monster horror films, Edward never found them particularly enjoyable. Whether it was the wildly popular Alien or classics like The Thing, he felt they were always lacking something.
(TN: The Thing I'm not sure if it's the 2011 or 1982 one.)
The biggest shortcoming of monster horror films was, ironically, the monsters themselves. In his previous life, there had been many different types of monster horror films. Alien, Predator, and even older, more obscure works like The Thing or Deep Rising—all could be classified as monster films, though The Thing at least had its own uniqueness.
Directors kept designing monsters to be scarier, creepier, more grotesque, racking their brains over how to terrify the audience. But in the end, Edward thought, it often didn't work. It would have been more effective to simply make the monsters gigantic and treat the film as a kind of special effects spectacle. That was why later on, mainstream monster movies evolved into blockbusters like Jurassic Park and Godzilla.
Even Alien—while its first installment had been brilliant and, to a degree, genuinely horrifying—was later categorized separately. As the series went on, it became more a mix of gory splatter horror and monster action, far removed from the atmosphere of traditional horror.
So, although Edward had filmed Alien this time, he wasn't particularly invested in turning it into a long-running IP. He didn't plan to personally shoot sequels like Alien 2, Alien 3, or Alien 4. The first film was enough. If audiences were truly curious in the future, he could always write a script and let someone else take over.
"Still, Alien shouldn't have any problem winning awards," Edward thought, recalling the true reason he had filmed it in the first place—he was aiming for prize money.
To him, Alien wasn't only about horror. It carried legitimate science fiction elements: outer space, spaceships, androids. He had also planted a number of narrative seeds, giving the creature's origin a distinct sci-fi flavor. For those reasons, he was very confident in securing recognition. Besides, in the world of Pokémon, humanity's exploration of outer space was stagnant.
Because of Rayquaza's presence, rockets could not even launch into the skies. That meant no leaving the planet, no human spaceflight. For now, all astronomical research relied on telescopes. Spaceships were out of the question; even rockets remained at their most primitive stage, and manned spaceflight was unimaginable.
With that in mind, Edward felt that although his movie was horror-themed, it could easily qualify for a science fiction award nomination.
"Oh, right…" Edward suddenly remembered something he hadn't done yet. Picking up his phone, he thought for a moment before sending a message to Diantha, telling her about the audition for the role of Kayako in Ju-On: The Grudge.
Though he had spent half a day just writing the backstory of Ju-On, he never intended to film it from the origin point. Instead, he planned to break the origin story into pieces and weave them into other plotlines, allowing the audience to gradually learn Kayako's tale.
After sending the message, Edward decided to wait patiently for Diantha's reply. If she wasn't interested in the role, he would simply look for another actress. If she agreed, all the better.
"Well then, time to draft the other parts of the script—the fate of the first victim in Ju-On." Edward set his phone aside and began writing again.
Strictly speaking, the first victim should be Shunsuke Kobayashi, that poor unfortunate man.
Loved by Kayako, hated by Takeo Saeki, he was the first to die in Kayako's house. After that, Kayako killed her own husband, Takeo.
Edward had watched The Grudge many times before, so writing these events came naturally. The only problem was that he had seen too many movies over the years. While writing, he kept unconsciously recalling scenes or characters from other films, which gave him headaches. He had to pause and carefully recall the details to stay accurate.
When the clock struck five, Edward clocked off work. But instead of heading straight elsewhere, he decided to visit Headmistress Lillian at the orphanage, and also check in on Salamance and the others. It had been some time since he last saw them.
Walking out of the company, Edward yawned as he stepped onto the street. He hadn't brought Zoroark or the old butler with him—just himself, with Q nestled in his arms.
Dusclops, however, had cloaked itself in invisibility, floating behind him. It disliked interacting with strangers, and Edward had no reason to stop it. That little one was… special. It seemed able to sense death in others. Edward only hoped he would never see it wandering off to pursue such omens.
"The streets are empty, huh?" Edward muttered, yawning again. The roads of Rustboro City looked oddly deserted, which felt wrong. His company wasn't located in the busiest commercial district, but it was still near the city center. There should have been at least some people around.
"Oh—that's right, today is…" He suddenly remembered.
The most famous and influential event in the world of Pokémon was, without doubt, the Pokémon League. And today was the opening of the Hoenn League tournament.
Every time the Hoenn League began, people across the region went wild with excitement. During the matches, no one watched other television programs; all attention was fixed on the tournament. Online trending topics were always filled with discussions of the competitors.
"The Hoenn League, huh." Edward rubbed his hands together, yawning again.
Winning the League didn't mean becoming the Champion. The title of League Champion only granted the right to challenge the Elite Four and the reigning Champion. Only by defeating them all could one claim the Champion's seat.
"Hmm… is Wallace competing this year?" Edward scrolled through the list of contestants and spotted a familiar name: Wallace.
He was curious. Could it be that Steven was planning to step down already, and had encouraged Wallace to win the League to take his place? But then again, probably not. As a Gym Leader, Wallace already had the privilege of directly challenging the Elite Four and Champion without going through the League.
This was one of the perks given to Gym Leaders by the League—to encourage them to continually hone their skills. That was also why so many were willing to take up the position.
Given Wallace's flamboyant photos and outfits, Edward guessed he was more likely using the League to promote Pokémon Contests.
Although Contests had a market in some regions, they were far less popular than official League battles. The difference in popularity was like the gap between the World Cup and a minor domestic league.
Wallace clearly wanted to change that, but had found no easy way. His participation in the League was probably an attempt to draw attention to Contests—one of the few ways he could use his influence as the Master of Contests.
"Hmm?" Just as Edward was about to put his phone down, a new notification popped up. It was a message from Zoroark.
Attached was a screenshot from the Ghost Films Production's official public account. That account was managed by a dedicated department, posting movie updates and new merchandise announcements. With many followers, it also received countless private messages daily.
The screenshot showed one such private message:
[Desperate plea for Edward's help! #321: Mr. Edward, my name is Len. Because my family is poor, I am now one million in debt. I beg for your help! I will be eternally grateful, and I am willing to serve you for life without a single coin of pay! I have even written a deed of servitude!]
Edward's mouth twitched.
Zoroark added a note:
[Boss, this guy has been sending one message every single minute for seven days straight. Now he's even attacked our company website, trying to hack in and find your information. How should we handle this?]
Edward's expression turned into that classic "old man on the subway staring at his phone" meme.
What kind of situation was this?
Ever since becoming part of the Stone family, he had already grown used to seeing such things. Back when he first tried living like a wealthy heir, he created a personal social media account. The very day it launched, his inbox exploded—pleas for loans, photos of bodies, endless nonsense. He quickly deleted the account and never opened another.
Yet here they were, chasing him even into his company's official account, bombarding him nonstop. The persistence was absurd.
But Edward ignored such people. If he helped every random petitioner, he would never have time for anything else. Besides, he didn't have that kind of money to throw around.
[Handle it however you see fit.]
That was his only reply. He had no intention of bothering with this so-called Len. A million wasn't a small debt. However it had been incurred, Edward didn't care.
"Oh, that reminds me…" He suddenly thought of Kode, who had been running his charity foundation for quite some time. He wondered how things were going there.
Checking his phone, he noted that the foundation's office wasn't far from his company. The path even led toward Lillian's orphanage. Perfect—he could visit the foundation first, then head to the orphanage afterward.
When he arrived at the foundation office, Edward paused.
He had rented Kode and the others a fairly large building, knowing full well that any foundation doing real work tended to grow rapidly. Not because of endless funding, but because the demand for help was so immense.
It was, undeniably, a sorrowful truth.
Countless people needed assistance.
And right now, in front of the foundation, Edward saw a large crowd gathered. Some were holding placards, kneeling on the ground, hoping to be added quickly to the support list. Others were scolding them, saying such behavior violated the rules. The foundation strictly forbade such tactics—aid was determined only by its rigorous review process.
Whether you knelt for a day or for a month, it made no difference.
It might seem heartless, but only this way could fairness be guaranteed, ensuring that help reached those who needed it most.
Before Edward could step inside, Kode hurried over. Casting an illusion to cloak him, Kode whisked him through a side entrance unnoticed. Edward couldn't help but twitch his mouth at the sight.
"Boss, please don't make trouble for me. Do you know what would happen if people saw you walking in like that?" Kode scolded helplessly.
Edward laughed awkwardly. He hadn't expected so many people to be outside.
"Is it like this every day?" he asked.
Kode shook its head—then nodded.
"At first, no one came. But as we helped more and more people, the foundation's reputation grew. Then more and more arrived. I told them repeatedly not to do this, that the foundation has its own rules, but they don't listen."
Kode pointed to the glass windows. They had already been replaced with soundproof panels. From inside, you couldn't see out; from outside, you couldn't see in. It was the only way to keep staff from being swayed by the desperate crowd.
Rules were rigid. But humans were not.
"Boss, every day there are people begging outside. I want to relocate the foundation," Kode said, touching the glass with a weary look.
The work was becoming heavier by the day.
The more tragedies Kode encountered, the heavier its heart became. Many staff had already resigned. If this continued, those remaining wouldn't be able to bear the emotional toll either.
"All right. Change locations," Edward sighed. Perhaps he shouldn't have come to the foundation today—his good mood had completely evaporated.
Still, once the sci-fi film's prize money came in, he could inject more funds into the foundation. It might not be enough to save everyone in the League who needed help, but every little bit counted.
(End of Chapter)