"Chairman, are we really sure this is fine?" Kennedy asked uncertainly as he watched Edward head toward Devon Corporation, looking visibly worried. His eyes flicked toward Chairman Joseph beside him, whose excitement was almost bubbling over, and Kennedy's expression grew increasingly strange.
"What's the problem? I only have two sons." Joseph said calmly, standing up with his hands clasped behind his back. His voice was strong and steady, completely unbothered, showing no trace of the supposed illness, he was faking. Kennedy could only sigh helplessly — Chairman Joseph was already at his age, yet he still acted so unserious, even to the point of scheming something like this so openly.
In truth, Kennedy strongly suspected that this so-called illness was just a pretext. Chairman Joseph had long been talking about letting Edward take over his position, so this whole thing was clearly planned from the start. Still, even though Kennedy had figured it out, he didn't intend to say anything.
After all, Edward's ability spoke for itself. The film company he'd founded, one that had barely used any of Devon's funds had now grown into an industry giant, even becoming involved in charity.
From Kennedy's perspective, Edward truly was a capable heir to Devon Corporation. Even if he weren't the successor of such a massive conglomerate, he would still have achieved great success on his own perhaps at a slower pace, but inevitably nonetheless. That was precisely why Kennedy fully supported the decision to have Edward inherit the company.
"Steven's the League Champion," Joseph said with a smile, "but even he's preparing to resign. And as for my younger son Edward, he's clearly inherited my gift for business. I feel perfectly at ease entrusting the company to him."
Joseph had long wanted to retire, but Steven had never wanted to be chairman. Fortunately, Edward was more than qualified, and that let the old man finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Now, Joseph planned to fake being ill and "rest" for a year or two — all while quietly observing how well his younger son could handle the company.
And at the same time, he could finally spend some leisure days with Steven, digging for stones together again — a simple father-son pastime he hadn't enjoyed in years.
At that moment, Edward hadn't yet realized that he'd been set up. He had been genuinely worried earlier. Joseph had raised him for so many years, and Edward deeply respected his father. Naturally, he had been anxious that Joseph might truly be sick. For Edward, it was easy to understand now why so many people throughout history had yearned for immortality.
Of course, living forever alone would be unbearably lonely — it would only be meaningful if a group could share eternity together. But even in the world of Pokémon, immortality remained a false ideal — theoretically possible, but requiring a price so heavy that no ordinary person could bear it.
"Since Dad's fallen ill… that means the company can only be managed by me for now." Edward muttered to himself as he entered Devon Corporation, heading straight to the president's office — his father's workplace now his own.
There were already quite a few people there, department heads from all over the company. Clearly, they had been notified and gathered in advance, sensing that Devon was entering a period of turbulence.
Well… "turbulence" was a bit of an exaggeration. In truth, it was just the elderly chairman taking time off to recuperate, and so Edward was temporarily stepping in. Fortunately, he had already managed the company before, so everyone was familiar with him and he with them. They all knew what kind of person Edward was.
"What are the company's current main businesses?" Edward asked as he led the group into the meeting room, sitting down at the head of the table.
"President, our primary operations are currently focused on…" one department head began.
Edward narrowed his eyes and listened carefully. Devon was a massive corporation, with its hands in nearly every industry. But if one had to pick the company's strongest and most defining field, it would undoubtedly be energy.
Energy was Devon's foundation, its core industry. It was thanks to the company's pioneering Life Energy Technology that Joseph had built his empire and crushed competitors like Macro Cosmos into irrelevance.
That technology had revolutionized the world, securing Devon's throne as an industry leader. And under Joseph's leadership, the company had only grown stronger, becoming one of the most advanced corporations in the entire Pokémon League — second only to Silph Co.
Silph Co., of course, was everywhere — their name attached to Poké Balls, potions, and countless other everyday items. But Devon couldn't afford to rest on its laurels forever. It needed new directions.
As Edward listened, his mind started working. The world had been in an extended period of peace. The Pokémon League's authority was unmatched, its foundation so solid that no one dared to stir up real trouble. The few remaining dark organizations were minor annoyances at best, not real threats.
That meant the foreseeable future would remain peaceful. And in times of peace… what kind of products thrived? What did the general public need most?
Phones. Cars.
Phones, especially — even more essential than cars. Cars could be replaced with bicycles, walking, or riding Pokémon. But life without a phone? Impossible.
Edward fell deep into thought. Producing phones wasn't easy. The Pokémon world already had a huge variety of mobile brands, covering every market segment from luxury to budget. Competition was cutthroat. For Devon to enter that field would be to draw the ire of all its rivals at once.
Unless… Devon could release something truly revolutionary — something that would change the world itself.
But that was unrealistic. Technology had already advanced to the point of Rotom Phones, living smart devices powered by Pokémon themselves. In some ways, Rotom outperformed artificial intelligence entirely.
So then… what else could he develop?
An idea flashed across Edward's mind. He pulled out his phone and started searching. The executives looked at each other in silence. No one dared interrupt. If they disturbed their boss's train of thought now… well, they might as well start writing their wills.
"Just as I thought — nothing like it exists yet." Edward's lips curled into a smile. He didn't find what he was looking for, and that made him even happier. If such a product didn't yet exist, that meant he had a golden opportunity.
"Our next corporate strategy," he announced, setting his phone down, "is to develop a new kind of application — a shopping app."
The moment he spoke, the executives immediately took out their pens and began jotting notes, their faces serious and focused. Edward didn't pay them much mind, anyone who could rise to this level in Devon wasn't stupid.
He began explaining his concept — essentially, an app similar to Amazon and Alibaba, the kind where thousands of users could "team up" to get discounts but still somehow fail to slash a price all the way down.
What had caught his eye was that in this world, no company had yet tapped into the low-end consumer market. Most online platforms focused on premium products and high-end customers.
So Edward planned to use his Online Shopping app to capture the grassroots market in one fell swoop. Despite seeming small, it contained massive potential. In his previous life, many major shopping apps like Taobao and JD.com had initially believed the future lay in high-end markets — only Alibaba bet on the opposite, and it won spectacularly, even breaking into international markets later on.
Edward didn't worry about whether it would work here. Within the Pokémon League's vast territory, Devon's presence was everywhere. Once the app launched, its influence could spread like wildfire. The "invite friends to slash a price" system would naturally go viral, and with Devon's massive product network, connecting suppliers would be effortless.
His plan was detailed and methodical. After a round of company evaluation and risk assessment, everything was approved. Devon moved into action like the corporate titan it was — recruiting teams, funding software development, following Edward's blueprint step by step.
Originally, Edward had considered adding popup ads and "shake-for-rewards" gimmicks, but after thinking it over, he scrapped them. As a consumer himself, he knew how much people despised those tactics. Sure, they could increase exposure but they also left deep negative impressions.
He remembered uninstalling every app that spammed those obnoxious ads and leaving bad reviews for all of them. Still, he knew that such resistance rarely mattered; unless a "conscientious" company came along, people always ended up reinstalling the apps they needed.
"This time, I'll just be a conscientious capitalist," Edward murmured.
He had plenty of "creative" — read: devious — ideas for monetization, but he chose not to use them. Even the discount and cashback rewards on this app would be genuine, treated as marketing expenses. It was an investment, a necessary cost to break into a mature market.
After finalizing everything, Edward stepped back. He'd only just taken charge — moving too aggressively would draw suspicion. Still, he called for Fortune, instructing him to stay close and learn directly from him.
At the same time, Zoroark was delighted — she could continue learning from her mentor, Kennedy, on how to be a "super secretary." Kennedy, in turn, took his teaching seriously.
Zoroark was truly lucky — not every secretary got the chance to be personally trained by someone like Kennedy, a man so competent that even the chairman had once offered him shares to stay.
Edward quickly realized why: Kennedy was like a living encyclopedia, answering any question instantly, managing schedules with uncanny precision — not too busy, not too idle. It was borderline superhuman.
By the time Edward had wrapped up most of Devon's internal affairs, two months had already passed.
In that time, Carrie officially premiered. It earned both praise and criticism — but Edward didn't mind. The film didn't seem to generate much fear points, likely because it wasn't frightening enough.
The reviews, however, were decent. Many viewers appreciated its social themes, and even educational scholars began writing essays about the film's supposed "metaphors." Edward was dumbfounded — metaphors? He hadn't written any! But he wasn't about to correct them. Let them praise him all they wanted, the more the better.
"Boss, are we releasing Shutter next?" Zoroark asked tiredly.
Edward nodded. "The trailer can go public, but the movie itself can wait. Carrie is still in theaters."
Lately, Edward had been outlining The Ring — Sadako's story. Just thinking about how terrifying she'd been in his previous world gave him a headache.
Sadako was tricky. Hard to portray effectively, not impossible, but challenging. He decided to consult that same psychologist as before to discuss the psychology of fear.
After all, fear came in many forms — and psychological horror was an art of its own. Edward believed that if he wanted Sadako to truly terrify audiences in this world, he'd need to evoke inner dread, not just cheap jump scares.
With that realization, he made up his mind, The Ring would take the route of psychological horror, not simple visual shock.
Once the direction was set, Edward left the office. He planned to visit the psychologist — and perhaps, finally, take a well-earned moment to relax.
(End of Chapter)