The matter between Team Rocket and Mewtwo was something Edward had not paid attention to for quite some time now.
After all, ever since Team Rocket went looking for Mewtwo and failed to find it, Mewtwo had been continuously playing a game of hide-and-seek with them. Edward himself could not figure out why Mewtwo was doing this. It wasn't as though Team Rocket was easy to deal with—they were undeniably powerful—but Mewtwo was a legendary Pokémon. The power of a legendary required no explanation. Otherwise, there never would have been a "Rainbow Rocket" in the first place.
If Mewtwo truly wished it, it could easily flee to some remote place where no one recognized it, settle down, and live as a complete shut-in. But Mewtwo seemed to actually enjoy this cat-and-mouse game with Team Rocket. Only in Edward's eyes, although it was called a cat-and-mouse game, the roles of the cat and the mouse were completely reversed.
Given Mewtwo's current strength, Edward felt that aside from Giovanni, who might still pose a little trouble, no one else could give Mewtwo any difficulty at all. That was precisely why Edward could not understand why Mewtwo insisted on toying with them this way. Thinking of this, Edward decided to send Mewtwo a message to ask directly.
His relationship with Mewtwo was, at this point, something like being shut-in friends. Aside from directing movies, Edward was also very interested in gaming. This world too had a number of famous games, and when he wasn't working, Edward often played them with Mewtwo—sometimes titles where monsters tormented humans, or other ways to pass the time.
So, the bond between Edward and Mewtwo was rather good. Asking such a question was perfectly natural.
[Because I want to live a peaceful life.]
Mewtwo's reply came quickly. Edward stared at the line of text with a deadpan expression. He truly hadn't expected Mewtwo to answer in such a way. Clearly, this fellow must have been watching too much anime.
[Then please be my shut-in roommate for life.]
Edward sent back a joke of his own.
Even so, while Edward liked joking around, he was still efficient in handling matters. He sent Zoroark a message, instructing it to casually select a house somewhere, leave the keys at a designated location, and Mewtwo would go pick them up.
Of course, Zoroark itself didn't need to return to the Hoenn in person. It only needed to handle everything through its phone, which was very simple. After giving these instructions to Zoroark, Edward returned to chatting with George in front of him before taking his leave.
"Director Edward, since you've come all the way to the Unova this time, would you like to visit our Unova Film Academy?" George suggested with a smile. Edward was momentarily taken aback, then his interest was piqued.
Unova Film Academy—though its name might sound like some sort of second-rate diploma mill, in truth it was one of the most renowned film universities in the region. It was even praised as the cradle of great directors and award-winning actors. And indeed, the school fully lived up to its reputation.
Many famous directors had graduated from there. Even more impressive, one of the masters of silent film comedy had once studied there. Edward had seen that man's works before—truly entertaining, with a touch that reminded him faintly of Charlie Chaplin.
But whether it was because comedy's core was always tragedy, or because it was the shared fate of all comedians, that master ultimately ended his own life prematurely. According to the doctor's diagnosis, he had suffered from depression.
This immediately made Edward think of some comedians from his previous life as well—many of whom were prone to depression.
It almost seemed like a curse. But after becoming a director himself, Edward had come to feel that perhaps it was simply the immense pressure. These actors were always thinking about how to make the audience laugh, and under such weight, they inevitably collapsed into depression.
"May I really go?" Edward asked with genuine interest. In fact, deep down, he had another thought related to universities: donating a building.
After all, universities housed countless students. Donating a building not only earned one a good reputation but also served as a kind of protective talisman. Although Edward didn't particularly need such protection, he didn't mind contributing to the institution that had nurtured so many film masters, while also bolstering his name within the film industry.
"Of course you can. Director Edward, you're already famous throughout the film circle. Everyone calls you a great director," George said with a smile. Edward felt a little embarrassed and waved his hand.
He was, after all, only a porter of films.
Though he had made changes to adapt the films to the worldview of Pokémon, he could not claim originality. Otherwise, what would make him any different from those who downloaded videos from the comment section, slapped them onto their own accounts, and pretended it was theirs?
"In that case, it would be rude of me to refuse." Edward chuckled. He truly was interested in the academy, most of all because of the legendary silent comedy master who had once walked its halls.
Led by George, Edward soon arrived at the film academy. Inside the campus, there weren't too many people, though a few could still be seen walking about. After all, university schedules were irregular—sometimes there might not even be a single class all day.
"George, what kind of majors does this academy offer?" Edward asked. By now, he was familiar enough with George to address him directly by name, and George did not mind.
"There are many, but every year the most popular are directing and acting," George answered with a hint of pride.
Edward nodded. That was only natural. Directing allowed one to realize their creative dreams, while acting, though uncertain, could lead to fame and fortune. Naturally, many people flocked to these fields.
"But because of this, the admission requirements have been rising higher each year," George sighed.
Everyone wanted to make big money. But the money in this world was limited. Economic value wasn't conjured out of nothing. Most of the wealth was taken by a small minority, while the rest of the working masses could only scrape by.
To carve out a place in the brutal film industry was almost like gambling. It was akin to buying a lottery ticket and hitting the jackpot in one go. Every year, countless fresh graduates, brimming with youthful dreams, became extras—handsome young men and beautiful women all around. Without resources or connections, even landing a role with a single line of dialogue was hard.
As for suddenly skyrocketing to fame, becoming a household name in the film world? That was almost impossible.
"Because the money flows so fast, after all. I heard that in Paldea they even have universities offering livestreaming as a major now, and enrollment is surprisingly high," Edward said evenly. This world was full of clever people chasing after lucrative industries. Once inside, they quickly discovered that the industry was already overcrowded with other clever people.
"Internet celebrity work is still a way to make money, but standing out is very hard," George said, without any disdain in his tone. After being hammered by society's cruelty, most people came to understand one simple truth: as long as it made money, it was a good job. Other concerns weren't nearly as important.
Of course, the film industry still had its chains of discrimination. Some people clung to their rung on the chain, furiously looking down on others—for reasons no one quite understood.
Zoroark followed behind Edward, curiously examining the surroundings while also searching on its phone for information about the academy. After all, if Edward happened to ask a question later, it needed to be prepared to answer. That was the basic professionalism of a secretary.
This was one of the little tricks Kennedy had once taught Zoroark. And Zoroark agreed—it made sense. In every trade, there were champions, and without a doubt, Blackfield was the champion of the secretary's craft.
As Edward chatted idly with George, he also observed the students around them. When the students noticed him, disbelief flickered in their eyes, quickly replaced by excitement as they ran up to ask for autographs. Edward obliged them kindly.
"Looks like we'd better hurry," George said with a laugh. As a film critic, though once a student of this very academy, his popularity could not compare to Edward's. But he knew perfectly well that now the students were aware of Edward's visit, if they didn't move quickly, they would soon be swarmed.
"Mm," Edward agreed and followed him to the teaching building. But seeing the building before them, Edward couldn't help but suspect George was doing this on purpose—since there would surely be even more students here.
Sure enough, he was quickly surrounded again. Edward, however, didn't put on any airs. He patiently signed autographs and posed for photos.
What disappointed him was that among the students, he didn't spot anyone with the natural "Kayako physique" he had been hoping to find.
Of course, the academy was overflowing with handsome young men and beautiful women. That much was inevitable—appearance was the entry ticket to the industry. The higher the beauty, the better.
Still, Edward also noticed some more ordinary faces, walking around with great confidence. He simply smiled without saying more.
While the film industry demanded beauty, it also needed ordinary faces. After all, if every character in a drama were gorgeous, how would it be filmed? Villainous roles also required special-type actors.
"Judge George, I feel like you set me up," Edward said with mock annoyance, giving him a look. George only smiled, handing him a cup of tea and a key.
"I really didn't. I only wanted to show you around the school," George explained lightly. He truly hadn't intended to trick Edward—his popularity was simply too high. Coupled with his reputation for being able to elevate others, it was no wonder eager students pursued him so fervently.
"This key is…?" Edward asked, puzzled as he examined it.
"This key belonged to the silent comedy master who once studied here," George said with pride. Edward paused. The academy had preserved that master's dormitory?
"It was his own wish. He even donated some of his belongings. It's now more like a cultural memorial," George added.
Edward nodded. That made sense. He followed George to visit it.
Afterward, Edward didn't have too many thoughts—it was simply that the master had passed early. Still, many of his possessions were displayed. One item in particular caught Edward's eye.
"What's that?" Edward asked curiously, pointing to a notebook with the words Inspiration Notes written on the cover.
"That's where the master recorded sudden flashes of inspiration while performing," George explained casually. Edward asked if he could take a look. George agreed, adding that most of the items here were replicas.
One-to-one reproductions, with the originals kept safely stored for preservation.
Edward felt a bit amused but still opened the notebook. To his surprise, he discovered that the master had once considered making a horror film—specifically, a comedy-horror.
"A comedy-horror?" Edward's interest was piqued.
Comedy and horror—two genres that seemed utterly at odds. Combining them was no easy feat. Edward knew that much himself. The master had written three pages of notes before abandoning the idea.
He had realized that blending comedy and horror was a monumental challenge. Too much comedy, and it wasn't scary. Too much horror, and it wasn't funny. Add in other filming commitments, and the project was shelved.
But this reminded Edward of one classic film.
Out of the Dark.
It was a Stephen Chow movie. The whole film mixed comedy with occasional frightening scenes. It was very entertaining, and the fusion of horror and humor worked surprisingly well. Though in Edward's eyes, it leaned more toward comedy, he couldn't deny it had genuine scary moments too.
Especially the final battle between Stephen Chow and the ghost couple—some shots could really make one jump. All in all, a very unique horror film.
"Still, I have Ju-On on my plate first. Once that's finished, perhaps I'll shoot Out of the Dark next," Edward mused. Ju-On would be overwhelmingly terrifying. Edward felt he would need a lighter horror-comedy afterward, to help audiences summon the courage to step into theaters again.
After all, just with Alien, some viewers were already saying it made their scalps tingle and that they didn't dare watch it a second time. Edward could only laugh bitterly at that.
If Ju-On were completed and released, those audiences might very well wet themselves in the theater. Ju-On was horror in its purest, most extreme form.
(End of Chapter)
Out of the Dark – a 1995 Horror/Comedy film. Pretty Old.