Whether vigilantes act out of justice or sin has always been a recurring topic in superhero movies. Most people tend to believe they stand for justice—after all, these vigilantes target the wicked and the unrepentant. As ordinary citizens, people naturally cheer for anyone who punishes those criminals that the law seems unable to reach.
Of course, there are also those in the legal field, particularly lawyers and scholars who are experts in law, who argue that such actions are themselves a form of crime. They insist that criminals should be punished by the law, not by individuals. If vigilantes bypass the law and carry out punishment on their own, then they are effectively trampling upon the dignity of the legal system—and such vigilantes, too, must be held accountable.
Thus, in nearly every superhero movie, if the protagonist happens to be a truly righteous hero, they inevitably face this very criticism. Their inner struggles and growth as a character often mirror the many ways heroes choose to respond to that conflict.
Take for instance one of the more "ordinary" yet memorable vigilantes in the superhero world—the Punisher. His iconic creed is: "In my eyes, there's only black and white. Only cowards see shades of gray." That line alone defines his entire character philosophy. To him, guilt is absolute—there is no middle ground.
Meanwhile, under Edward's consistent pursuit of excellence, Ghost Films had long built up a passionate fanbase. Among them, the most active and loyal were none other than the Sherlock Holmes fans.
So, when Ghost Films released the trailer for Batman: The Dark Knight, the comment section beneath it quickly became a gathering ground for excited Holmes fans.
"Looks great! But here's the question—since this one feels like a detective mystery film, will Sherlock Holmes make a cameo appearance?"
"When's Sherlock Holmes Season 4 coming out?! Hurry up already! I want to see the Malamar outsmarted again!"
"I still say it—Sherlock's real enemy isn't the Malamar. There's definitely another mastermind behind it all!"
"Season 4! Season 4! Give us Season 4!"
But aside from those enthusiastic Sherlock Holmes fans, there were also people seriously analyzing the trailer. Though the footage was darkly lit, there were still some notable clues visible—a man hanging from a noose, a face painted into a sinister smile… details that sparked endless curiosity.
Fans who already knew Batman from the comics went absolutely wild. Even before it hit theaters, Ghost Films' new film, Batman: The Dark Knight, had already set the internet ablaze with anticipation.
"...A lot of people are really curious, huh? They're asking—who exactly is Batman?"
At that moment, a live streamer was sitting back in his chair, smiling as he chatted with his audience while the Dark Knight trailer played in the corner of the screen.
"Well, this I actually know," he said, eyes glinting with amusement. "And I get why everyone's confused. I mean, I'm a content creator who specializes in comic and manga analysis and recommendations—so why would I know about a movie?" He took a sip of tea, expression growing a little mysterious.
[You don't even have to say it—it's obviously because Batman was originally a comic!]
[I just love hearing you talk, oppa~]
[Got any new manga recs? That car from last time's gone! Veterans, drop the license plate number!]
"Alright, fine," the streamer, who went by the name Smiley laughed. "You guys are right. Batman is originally a comic. It's serialized in a new weekly magazine called Stone Arts, which, despite being a newer publication, already has a huge following."
(TN: Stone Artss renamed to Stone Arts so that it can include both comic and manga.)
He reached over, picked up a volume, and held it up for the camera. The title on the cover was bold and striking—Stone Arts.
"Those who've followed me for a while know this magazine has been something of a dark horse in the manga and comic world—new, but incredibly strong, with many talented creators. Personally, my favorite works from them are their two flagship series." He flipped open the magazine—and the titles appeared before the viewers' eyes:
Batman.
Superman.
"Batman tells the story of a man who takes it upon himself to fight crime in the city of Gotham," Smiley explained, his tone patient and engaging. "He's a vigilante."
The audience quickly grew absorbed—not just because of the story, but also because the art style stood out remarkably. Edward hadn't blindly copied either Western or Japanese comic styles. Instead, he had merged elements of both, creating a distinctive hybrid—realistic, highly detailed, and full of texture.
The kind of art where even a single panel could capture a perfectionist's heart.
"These two flagship comics," Smiley said, voice brimming with energy, "have one defining trait—intense competition. Pure, relentless competition!"
"We all know most manga pour their heart into the first chapter—perfect artwork, cinematic framing—to hook readers early. But later on, the quality often drops off. Simpler drawings, easier pacing. But these two? Totally different!"
He grabbed a few more issues of Stone Arts, opened to Batman, and zoomed in on the panels.
[Oh my god, even every single piece of the Batsuit is drawn differently! Look at the lighting—the reflections in the rain!]
[Stop it, my roommate's asking why I'm kneeling before the screen!
[Even the flowers in the background look hyper-detailed! You can see the leaf veins!]
The chat exploded with excitement. His audience, being mostly hardcore manga fans, knew exactly how rare this was. Maintaining such insane detail while updating weekly was nearly impossible.
Some artists even intentionally adopted a "simple" art style as their trademark, padding their work when needed—and fans often praised it as "stylishly minimalistic."
But Batman was on another level. Every single panel was refined to perfection. Even background details that other artists would sketch in hastily looked like full-blown digital wallpapers here. It was absurdly good.
"I actually asked one of the magazine editors," Smiley said enthusiastically. "They told me Batman and Superman are drawn by two entirely separate teams—both including some famous manga and comic artists we'd recognize!"
For him, discovering these two comics had been like a revelation.
The manga and comic industry was full of fierce competition—everyone dreaming of success, yet few ever achieving it. But these two works didn't just stand out for their art. They kept that same high quality for every single chapter, paired with stories that were gripping and profound. Smiley had predicted early on that Batman and Superman would leave a lasting mark on manga and comic history.
And now, it seemed his prediction had come true.
Batman had been adapted into a full-fledged movie.
"The level of detail here is honestly beyond words," he said with a grin. "There's so much packed into every frame, I can't even keep up—but one thing's for sure: this comic is extraordinary. I even made a full video review about it. If you want to understand Batman's story in depth, go check it out!"
[Smiley, what do you think is the biggest difference between Batman and Superman?]
[I'm a Superman fan! Superman would make a better movie!]
[Wait—this company is owned by Edward Stone? And Ghost Films is owned by Edward too? So, it's basically created by him??]
"Well…" Smiley thought for a moment. "Batman is a mortal man—with brilliant intellect, mastery of combat, and access to advanced technology. Superman, on the other hand… he's not even human. He's more like a god wearing human skin."
That, to Smiley, was the key distinction between the two. Batman appealed to those who admired human potential—the idea that sheer will and intelligence could triumph. Superman, meanwhile, resonated with dreamers who believed in ideals beyond mortal limits.
[That's what 'super strength' and 'super speed' really mean!]
[Superman is literally a god among men! And I saw Gotham City mentioned in his comic—it's all connected!]
[Superman will definitely get a movie too. But for now, Batman fulfills my dream perfectly.]
"Anyway, I highly recommend watching the film," Smiley concluded with a smile. "Everyone knows Edward's movies—he never makes trash. Even when he writes the script himself, it's guaranteed to be top-tier."
And indeed, Smiley wasn't the only one hyping it up. Countless other media outlets, reviewers, and editors joined in—some praising, some mocking, some stirring controversy. But the biggest surprise came from one notorious figure.
A well-known director named Ben Sox publicly posted online:
"Hello everyone! I've seen Ghost Films' Batman: The Dark Knight. In my opinion, it's obviously a terrible film—a cash grab by Director Edward. Meanwhile, my own movie PokéMan, releasing at the same time, is far more interesting! If you have any taste, vote with your ticket stubs and support real cinema!"
Ben Sox was quite the infamous character. He had shot to notoriety after directing My Unspoken Struggles in Showbiz, which became the lowest-rated movie in the Pokémon world's cinematic history. And yet, countless celebrities still shamelessly praised it out of social obligation.
Netizens universally mocked him as a lunatic—a spoiled "industry brat" who should've just stayed home instead of inflicting his "art" on the public. But Ben Sox never cared. In fact, he proclaimed that his films were "the most profound works ever made"—it was the audience who lacked understanding.
Combined with his unbearable arrogance and inflammatory comments, Ben Sox had long become the Pokémon film industry's running joke.
And now, that very joke was back with a new movie and he was even daring to challenge Edward head-on.
Most people despised Ben Sox, but they couldn't resist the drama. Gossip was universal, no matter the world—and a good rivalry was always irresistible.
Ever since Edward had won the Best Director award, few dared criticize him. So, when someone finally did, the gossip-hungry crowd cheered gleefully, eager to watch them "duke it out."
Soon, people began egging them on, and Ben Sox's PokéMan started gaining traction too. But strangely enough, no trailer had been released. When asked, Ben Sox posted that "mystery is what gives cinema its charm"—and followed it with a jab:
"Only incompetent directors rely on flashy trailers to trick audiences with their best scenes."
"Boss, look at this clown!" Zoroark fumed, waving a tablet in frustration. "He's calling you out! Says you're one of those directors who use trailers to deceive people! Who even is this guy?"
Its expression was fierce—it was clearly angry. After all, her boss was a League-certified Best Director, a true master of his craft.
Even Edward's critics rarely went after his professional reputation anymore. But now this lunatic appeared out of nowhere, trying to leech off his fame? Outrageous!
"Forget it," Edward said calmly, waving his hand. "He's not worth the attention."
To Edward, people like that didn't even qualify for notice. He knew Ben Sox's background—the son of a powerful film company executive and a university film professor with extensive connections. If his parents themselves came to see Edward, they'd have to schedule an appointment in advance—let alone their talentless son.
And sure enough, not long after Ben Sox's post went viral, Edward received a phone call from two anxious, elderly parents. They apologized profusely for their son's behavior. Edward reassured them politely, telling them not to worry—he truly didn't care.
There were many second-generation filmmakers in the industry, and some were genuinely capable. Ben Sox simply wasn't one of them.
Rather than waste time on such nonsense, Edward preferred focusing on his own films—and the ones still in production. Carrie had wrapped filming, but its release timing remained undecided.
Edward didn't want his own studio's projects to clash at the box office. He wasn't here to start internal competition. Carrie was solid on its own—maybe a bit narrow in scope, but the revenge-driven climax was satisfying as hell.
After all, revenge was the film's entire selling point.
"Once Batman finishes its run, I'll release Carrie. Then, after Carrie, we can move on to Shutter," Edward thought aloud, his mind already forming a plan. It was a smart release strategy—giving audiences time to recover from each thrill before hitting them with the next wave, maximizing the box office return.
And during that downtime, Edward could finally think about how to rewrite the script for The Ring.
(End of Chapter)