The camera angle of the phone recording was a little strange—it was placed on the windowsill, facing the bed. That eerie perspective made Edward's expression turn subtly odd, but he didn't say anything. The fact that Sadako could film something like this at all was already impressive enough.
Soon after, Edward saw a girl on the screen talking on the phone. She looked terrified, pleading with the person on the other end to please, please watch the video she had just sent. But then, she suddenly dropped her phone, screaming in horror.
The phone fell to the floor, and its flashlight began flickering rapidly—flash after flash after flash. And with every pulse of that flashing light, Sadako's figure gradually materialized in the bedroom, frame by frame, as if she were crawling out of the light itself.
The girl tried to run but it was already too late. Sadako's psychic powers had locked her in place. Step by slow step, Sadako walked closer, and the girl let out a blood-curdling scream before collapsing, dead.
The entire sequence was brief, yet Edward had now learned how this version of Sadako made her entrance.
Originally, Edward thought Sadako would crawl directly out of the phone screen. After all, a smartphone still had a screen—it wasn't impossible for her to emerge that way. But the fact that she instead appeared through the camera's flash, materializing one frame at a time, was surprisingly creative. It had a certain unsettling charm to it.
However, the killing method was still a bit too simple. If one were to categorize them by terror level, Sadako indeed wasn't as frightening as Kayako. Kayako's killing abilities were far more diverse—she could appear anywhere, twist time and space, even turn day into night. Though she could only do that within her cursed house, it was still astonishingly powerful.
"If we want to make this into a proper film, we'll definitely need some new methods. But then again," Edward yawned, "there was a reason Sadako became such a hit in the first place—it was psychological horror."
He began pondering how to refine the script.
Sadako's method of killing was fresh and terrifying in its era—but if placed in today's world, it would feel somewhat dull. Her way of killing wasn't particularly shocking anymore, and her face was always hidden behind her long black hair. The original Ring relied heavily on psychological buildup, tension, and investigation, interspersed with only a few truly frightening scenes.
The two most iconic scenes, Edward remembered, were Sadako crawling out of the television, and the moment when a victim's corpse was found standing upright, its arm pointing somewhere unseen. Those were chilling. But aside from them, much of the film was rather flat.
Edward remembered when he first watched it—he was still in elementary school. His older cousin told him it was terrifying, so he was scared at first. But after watching for a while, he actually fell asleep halfway through. That alone showed how limited Ring was in its execution of horror.
"Not easy at all…" Edward rubbed the bridge of his nose. Remaking The Ring would be difficult. Changing Sadako's image wasn't a good option either—unlike Kayako, showing Sadako's face too clearly would destroy her air of mystery.
"Looks like I'll have to go for psychological horror."
Cradling little Q in his arms, he absentmindedly stroked the small Pokémon's head as he thought through the problem. Even though he now understood how Sadako emerged from a phone, figuring out how to make her scarier wasn't easy. No wonder the later Sadako sequels all received such poor ratings.
Sadako's creative space was limited, unlike Kayako, whose power set depended entirely on the writer's imagination. The broader the imagination, the more terrifying she became. Sadako, on the other hand, was locked into a specific image and killing pattern. It was hard to make her truly frightening again.
The story of The Ring began with a deceptively simple premise: a few curious teenagers watched a mysterious videotape and then received a silent phone call telling them they would die in seven days.
That bizarre setup acted like a puzzle, instantly drawing viewers in with curiosity and dread.
But the plot afterward became rather straightforward.
Reporter Reiko Asakawa, investigating a string of mysterious deaths, accidentally discovered the cursed tape. After watching it herself, she too received the terrifying phone call. But instead of succumbing to fear, she chose to fight back—racing against time to uncover the truth behind the curse.
Her investigation led her to clues that pointed toward Izu Ōshima, where she met university professor Ryūji Takayama, a man deeply fascinated by the supernatural. Moved by Reiko's determination, he decided to join her in solving the mystery.
Together, they unearthed the grim truth: the woman in the tape had been born with psychic powers. Those powers led to persecution and injustice, culminating in her being thrown into a dry well, where she died alone, filled with hatred and vengeance.
Reiko believed that by finding Sadako's body and cremating it, she could lift the curse. With Ryūji's help, she finally located the well. But upon descending into it, they realized it wasn't so simple—Sadako's corpse radiated a palpable malice, and the air itself felt deadly. After a terrifying struggle with that evil energy, it seemed the curse had finally been broken.
Reiko thought she was safe until she discovered that her son had also watched the tape. The curse had not been lifted at all. Ryūji called soon after, telling her the same: the curse continued. Then, Sadako appeared before him, and he died grotesquely, his face twisted in terror.
And thus, the first Ring ended.
When Edward first saw it, he'd already felt the pacing was too plain more of a mystery than a horror film. The scares were too sparse. To make it truly frightening, he would need to change a lot.
While Edward pondered all this, the driver in the front seat sat stiffly, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. Sadako was seated quietly in the back, perfectly still. Her silence was scarier than anything else. The driver occasionally glanced at Edward through the mirror; if not for seeing him still breathing, he might have thought the exorcist had dropped dead.
"Does your paranormal division have any other case files?" Edward finally asked. He already had some ideas, but he needed more material—maybe other horror cases he could blend into Sadako's story.
"The ghost in the bathroom… that's the closest paranormal case we've got," the driver answered instinctively.
Edward nodded. "Hanako of the Toilet, huh? That's a classic one." Back then, that legend scared so many Japanese schoolchildren they refused to go to school.
Several works had been made about her later, though none could compare with masterpieces like The Ring or The Grudge.
Under further questioning, Edward learned that this world also had Kuchisake-onna—the Slit-Mouthed Woman—and the Hachishaku-sama, the Eight-Foot Tall Lady. All terrifying entities with considerable power. Edward could only shake his head.
Those spirits were famous, yes, but they weren't in the same league as Sadako. Glancing at the silent Sadako sitting beside him, he scratched his head. "Looks like I'll have to read more on psychological horror before I can rewrite her story properly."
Though The Ring's plot wasn't fundamentally flawed, Edward felt there was still much room for improvement.
After returning, he bid everyone farewell. His next plan was to visit Kayako for inspiration—her brand of horror was far more visceral. But as he was leaving, he turned to the quiet Sadako beside him.
"Um… Miss Sadako, are you planning to follow me?"
Sadako gave a silent nod.
Edward sighed. Well, since she was a spirit, there was no harm in letting her tag along.
He just wasn't sure how Kayako would take it.
Arriving at Kayako's house, he pressed the doorbell. Kayako peeked out, and the instant she saw Sadako, her face twisted, her form shifting into that of an onryō. In a flash, she appeared beside Edward, reaching to snap Sadako's neck—only for Sadako to halt her midair with telekinesis.
"Kayako, this is Sadako—she's the protagonist of my next film." Edward hastily explained before things got out of hand. Kayako's speed was terrifying—he barely had time to react before the two were already fighting.
He definitely wasn't planning to film Sadako vs. Kayako anytime soon. That movie was pure trash—barely any real combat, mostly filler buildup, and when the fight finally came, it lasted mere minutes. It was almost comedic.
And to avoid angering fans of either ghost, the director had pulled a bizarre move at the end—merging the two into one super-spirit with Sadako's appearance and Kayako's movement style, neatly sidestepping the power-scaling debate.
"Oh, I see," Kayako said finally, her killing intent dissipating. Smiling, she invited Edward inside for dinner. She was in a good mood today—she had bought some top-quality ingredients, including premium wagyu beef.
Edward smiled back and followed her in, with Sadako quietly trailing behind.
Over the next few days, Edward busied himself with research. Coincidentally—or perhaps not—a few unlucky trespassers wandered into Kayako's cursed house. Edward took the opportunity to observe how she killed, even discussing with Sadako ways to make murder scenes scarier.
Sadako listened earnestly, then used her psychic power to tear apart a few intruders. Edward thought it was effective, but perhaps too crude—it didn't really fit Sadako's "classy" horror style. Finding the right balance was proving difficult.
During this time, the director of the Paranormal Containment Bureau visited Edward to ask about Kayako's situation. Edward reported that Kayako could now barely control her curse. As long as no one provoked her, she wouldn't cause mass hauntings. Relieved, the Bureau finally stopped their practice of human sacrifices.
They had been offering sacrifices to appease her grudge, but that only made the curse stronger—a classic case of drinking poison to quench thirst. Now, at last, that cycle could end.
Edward, in turn, gained higher clearance privileges, which he used mainly to borrow and watch the world's collection of horror films. To his surprise, they were very similar to the ones he knew, though some unique stories caught his interest—potential material for future adaptations.
A week passed in the blink of an eye. It was time for Edward to leave. He didn't take much with him, just a few discs of local horror TV shows—Goosebumps, Terrifying Ghost Encounters, and other short anthology series. Their stories were short but varied in quality, and a few were quite good.
He planned to study them for ideas—to see how to refine Sadako's story and maybe modernize her curse.
"See you next time," Edward said, waving to Kayako with a smile.
Kayako, dressed in ordinary clothes, smiled back and nodded.
But as Edward walked away, carrying his bags, the last thing he saw was the front door being kicked open by two blonde punks shouting "Oi Gaijin!" in a threatening tone. Kayako's face instantly twisted, and Toshio turned his head—his head only, body unmoving—to stare at them.
By the time Edward blinked, he was already standing at his own doorstep, the sun shining bright overhead.
"Looks like Kayako's having an extra meal today," he muttered, shaking his head. "There really are too many idiots in this world."
(End of Chapter)
TN: Gaijin means foreigner or outsider.