"Boss, this is the list of actors for this production. But about that psychologist you requested — a lot of people signed up for that role. How should we pick one?"
Zoroark handed Edward a thick stack of papers, then couldn't help but ask.
Everything else was easy to handle, but this psychologist thing really was tricky to decide.
Edward was a little surprised after hearing that. "Even psychologists are competing this hard for a part now?" he murmured. But after thinking it through, he found it reasonable. After all, in this day and age, there weren't exactly few psychologists — though there weren't too many either which resulted in a kind of uneven situation in their field.
Some psychologists could make tens of thousands an hour, while others might only earn a couple hundred per session.
If one had good luck and landed a position at a hospital, things weren't bad. But if not, they'd end up in a counseling or social aid center, making far less. So, although the job title of "psychologist" sounded glamorous, in reality, it came with enormous employment pressure.
Edward took the documents from Zoroark and glanced through them. There really were a lot. According to Zoroark, this pile had already been filtered once — yet even after that, there were still thirty-two remaining candidates.
Edward flipped through the resumes one by one. Some belonged to fairly famous figures in the psychology community, but most of them looked too similar all following the same stiff format, lacking creativity. Just when he was about to lose interest, one particular résumé caught his attention.
"Hmm… a psychology Ph.D. from an ordinary university. Among these, that's nothing special. The others are from prestigious institutions. But this résumé…" Edward's eyes sparkled with interest.
The applicant had added a small note at the end, clearly after doing his homework — he knew Edward was a horror director, so he had intentionally written:
Specializes in studying hallucinations, auditory illusions, and phobias — particularly fear of ghosts.
That note made Edward chuckle.
The male lead in Inner Senses was, at his core, someone who used selective memory loss to suppress a traumatic event. Yet, from the collections and mementos in his home, it was clear that his condition had existed for a while. He had only been concealing it deliberately and his breakdowns didn't occur randomly, either.
The film never outright stated this, but if one paid attention to the details, it was easy to notice.
For example, when the male lead was seen by the ghost girl's parents, their emotional outburst triggered his relapse. During that episode, in a half-sleepwalking state, he brought out some of his old records evidence that deep down, he had never truly forgotten what happened.
"All right, let's go with this one," Edward said decisively. He was quite pleased. The man was sharp — clever enough to understand what kind of film Edward was directing and bold enough to tailor his résumé accordingly. Even if his credentials were less impressive than others', that note alone made him the perfect fit.
Zoroark took back the file after a glance. It still had to handle other production matters regarding Inner Senses.
Edward, meanwhile, began examining the actor list. His fame had grown considerably by now, so naturally, there was no shortage of talented actors hoping to join the project — even some with quite the reputation. He browsed through the photos thoughtfully.
The cast pool was solid, but for the male lead's role in Inner Senses, he needed someone handsome, a face that fit the character's psychological depth while still making narrative sense.
Edward wasn't someone who judged actors by their looks, but he couldn't deny that appearance did play a crucial role at times.
Take this for instance — if the movie featured a male lead who was extremely popular with women, receiving love letters every day, and you cast someone like Brad Pitt, whose face could melt hearts, audiences would instantly understand why. That face alone explained everything perfectly.
But if you cast an average-looking man, the audience might start doubting the script. Sure, you could try to justify it by showing the guy wearing a luxury watch or flashing wealth — but that would make the character's image feel rigid and less natural.
That's why, in both film and television, looks do matter sometimes.
In Edward's view, the psychologist in Inner Senses needed to be good-looking preferably in his late twenties to early thirties, and definitely not older than thirty-two. Otherwise, the female lead's age range would have to be adjusted, which was just unnecessary trouble.
The industry didn't outright reject casting older actors for younger roles — there were plenty of thirty-year-olds playing high school girls because of their acting chops.
But Edward didn't like that kind of thing. Youth and age were differences that makeup alone couldn't mask. Just thinking about middle-aged actors pretending to be teenagers made him physically uncomfortable.
So, with these standards in mind, Edward's selection process was strict but efficient.
Eventually, he found the perfect candidate: a thirty-year-old actor who had already won a Best Actor award, and whose looks perfectly matched the image Edward had in mind for the role.
With the male lead decided, he quickly finalized the female lead and the ghost girl roles as well. Since the ghost girl was supposed to be a high school student, Edward decided to cast two real high schoolers, one boy and one girl for authenticity. Their natural youthfulness and innocence were things no amount of makeup could replicate.
Once the cast was set, filming preparations began in full swing. The project wasn't too large in scale, so Edward chose Rustboro as the filming location.
"Mr. Ferlore?" Edward greeted the psychologist he had hired to consult on the film. The man held a Ph.D. in psychology, several certifications, and worked with the League Anti-Suicide Hotline.
Whenever someone searched online for ways to end their life, that hotline's number appeared. If they wanted to talk, they could call in and if they didn't, but kept browsing for thirty seconds, the system would automatically send a chat request.
Ferlore's job was to handle those cases, providing psychological counseling and crisis advice.
It was the kind of job that sounded noble, but in truth, barely paid enough to support a family. Many of the hotline's staff were unpaid medical interns. Watching their mentors, they often couldn't help but regret ever majoring in psychology.
In any field, once there were too many practitioners, it became saturated and cutthroat.
"Director Edward, thank you very much for giving me this opportunity," Ferlore said humbly.
Edward waved his hand casually, he didn't care for formalities. What he wanted were professional insights.
Ferlore, however, was sincerely grateful. The salary Edward offered was generous — enough to improve his family's life and maybe even buy his wife a small car.
They discussed the Inner Senses script in depth. After hearing the plot, Ferlore immediately offered a series of psychological recommendations that proved invaluable. Thanks to him, the film's portrayal of mental illness became much more realistic and academically accurate, reducing the risk of nitpicking from critics later on.
The formula for a good professional drama was simple: remove the unnecessary romance, invite real experts as consultants, and conduct proper field research. That alone could make a solid film. Yet for some reason, so many writers in Edward's previous life couldn't resist shoehorning in love stories — probably because it was an easy way to pad screen time.
"Mr. Ferlore, would you be interested in acting in a small role?" Edward asked suddenly.
The psychologist, thirty-seven years old and slightly balding, perfectly embodied the image of a trustworthy professional, exactly like the supporting character in Inner Senses.
Unsurprisingly, Ferlore accepted right away. Why wouldn't he?
Acting meant extra pay, and Edward was known to treat his cast well. He wasn't the type to waste money on shallow celebrities, but he always paid actors fairly according to their contribution.
As a result, even Ghost Films extras and background actors had developed quite the reputation — many hoped to land a role, not necessarily for fame, but simply to make a decent living. Of course, there were critics who said Edward was "buying goodwill" or being hypocritically generous — but one could never please everyone.
With Ferlore's role confirmed, Inner Senses's production proceeded smoothly.
At the same time, Ghost Films grew busier than ever. Edward had already approved several upcoming projects — Sharknado, Carrie, and even Batman: The Dark Knight, which was still in early planning stages.
While The Dark Knight's script rewrite wasn't finished yet, its preparatory work had already begun.
Amid all this activity, a peculiar visitor arrived at Ghost Films.
"Sir… you're saying you're here to deliver an actor?" the front desk receptionist asked uncertainly, staring at the bald, muscle-bound man before her. His bulging physique strained his shirt, and he didn't have a single hair on his head — not even eyebrows. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd just encountered a weirdo.
"Ah, yes! I made an appointment with Director Edward, I'm here to bring Little Luna for her role in Carrie," the man said cheerfully, scratching his shiny scalp.
Only then did the receptionist notice the tiny Ralts standing beside him, peeking out timidly. Recognition dawned on her face — Little Luna! The lead actress in Carrie!
Zoroark's secretary had told her to treat this guest with care. Immediately, her tone turned friendly.
Gengar wiped the sweat from his forehead. He really wasn't used to being around so many people, but he had promised Little Luna he'd come and seeing the bustling energy of Ghost Films, he couldn't help but sigh emotionally.
The once-loser Edward, who used to lose to him in every game of rock-paper-scissors… had now become a giant in the film industry.
Edward: "?"
"Little Luna, right? Please come this way," one of the Carrie production crew members said, guiding Gengar and Ralts into the set.
For the first time, Gengar got to witness the movie-making process up close.
Watching Little Luna run around busily between takes, Gengar felt both proud and worried. But he could only stand back and let her grow on her own.
"Oh? Gengar brought Little Luna himself?" Edward raised an eyebrow with mild amusement after hearing Zoroark's report. "Interesting. When filming wraps up, have the footage edited — I want to take a look."
Zoroark smiled too. It was curious indeed. But it was also more curious about the woman standing beside Edward.
She looked ordinary — nothing special at first glance yet Zoroark could sense an eerie pressure from her presence. It wasn't fear exactly, but something unsettling, as if this woman posed an actual threat to it. That shouldn't have been possible. Zoroark was a Ghost-type Pokémon; humans normally couldn't intimidate it like that.
"Boss… who is this?" Zoroark asked cautiously.
Edward turned his head, caught the woman's playful wink, and forced a smile. It was Kayako — but there was no way to explain that to Zoroark.
"This is my… special consultant," Edward said after a cough. "A screenwriter who's particularly good at designing horror sequences."
Zoroark nodded uncertainly, still unconvinced.
Kayako's lips curled into a sly smile. She glanced at Edward, clearly amused by his excuse, and politely greeted Zoroark.
(End of Chapter)