Yes, it was paid promotion.
While other advertisers were still spending money to invite celebrities for endorsements, Edward was thinking about doing the opposite—charging celebrities instead.
After all, PokéCart was different from other software. In Edward's mind, PokéCart was defined as a platform with "very few advertisements."
Of course, it couldn't be said to be completely ad-free. Edward still had his own selfish motives. While the main interface of PokéCart was clean and minimal, once users clicked into the different categories, some product recommendations would still pop up. These recommendations were tailored based on user preferences, but the question of which merchants were displayed first, that was the real business decision.
So, in a sense, this was a subtler, more unconventional form of advertising. Many other apps also charged companies for placement, but PokéCart didn't really need celebrity endorsements. In fact, celebrity promotions would add little to its value.
Actually, celebrities could even be a burden. After all, hiring them would mean having to make promotional videos and ad materials, and putting those ads into PokéCart would completely ruin its simple, ad-free aesthetic.
That's why Edward decided: if celebrities wanted to appear as PokéCart's spokespeople, they should pay for the privilege themselves. Otherwise, he had no intention of hiring any.
The fanbases of celebrities were relatively fixed, and PokéCart currently had no real competitors. Though both PeachNet and ShoppingCart were trying to build similar platforms, they had achieved no progress so far. After all, PokéCart's savings didn't come from cutting profits it came from controlling costs and channels directly.
That was a key reason PokéCart succeeded in the first place. Devon Corporation was a massive company with branches in every league region, a true corporate giant. Although it wasn't exactly "the lifeline of a million workers," it was the type of conglomerate that no regional league dared to ignore.
So PokéCart's success was inseparable from Devon's vast reach and its already well-established distribution networks. In the foreseeable future, it was bound to hold a dominant position in the market.
Still, Edward instructed Devon to strengthen customer rewards and loyalty programs—to retain users as much as possible. After all, rival shopping platforms weren't fools; they would definitely devise ways to compete.
Edward's goal was to seize this window of opportunity, to secure as many loyal, long-term users for PokéCart as possible.
That became the guiding principle for the platform's development. Once users formed a habit, future competition would become much less of a threat. And Edward had great confidence in his employees—they were hardworking, capable in marketing and logistics, and executed everything efficiently. To him, if PokéCart ever failed, that would be what was truly strange.
"With PokéCart, Devon's future development will officially enter a new stage and the League won't even be wary of it," Edward murmured, looking at the app's backend data.
The analytics showed that the most common users were those buying discounted items worth a few hundred pokedollars, while the earliest registered users were purchasing the more expensive ones.
Those early users had it easy completing promotional tasks, but for newer ones, the same goals became much harder. Solving that imbalance was something Edward needed to consider carefully.
After all, he understood human nature, people rarely resent having little, but they do resent unfairness. Early users enjoying special privileges was understandable, but later users would naturally want similar benefits. Balancing this would be key to PokéCart's continued success.
Fortunately, Edward had already prepared for this issue in advance. He introduced new-user rewards and a point-based system: users who wanted free items could earn them by accumulating points through purchases. The more they shopped, the more rewards they could redeem.
After resolving Devon's business matters, Edward's film "Shutter" was finally approaching its release date. Although he'd spent most of his recent days managing Devon's affairs, he hadn't neglected Ghost Films. The film's marketing and rollout were proceeding smoothly, and early indicators looked promising.
However, Zoroark mentioned something amusing to Edward: when she had submitted Shutter for review, some employees in the review department had whispered, "So it's another movie by Corey again."
"So, it's time to let the audience who've been calm for so long experience another wave of fear, huh?" Edward licked his lips slightly. He hadn't directed a horror movie in quite a while, and although a few had appeared on the market, none could rival his own work.
The title of King of Horror still rested firmly on his head, and he had no intention of taking it off any time soon.
While Shutter was nearing release, Edward's attention had shifted elsewhere—to the script of his next project, Sadako.
That script had been giving him headaches for quite some time. Although he had masterpieces like The Ring as reference, and other less successful adaptations like Sadako 3D, most versions didn't quite fit the unique tone of this world.
"So, I'll have to rewrite it around a more technological theme," Edward muttered, settling down in front of his computer to brainstorm his new version of The Ring.
"In an age of rapidly advancing technology, the internet has become an indispensable part of human life. Yet within this vast virtual world, a mysterious, cursed video begins to spread silently, triggering a nightmarish chain of events…"
That was the foundation he laid—the backdrop for his modernized Ring. After all, in the Pokémon world, technology had already reached a level comparable to, or even surpassing, that of his previous life. This setting would help viewers immerse themselves more easily.
With the background in place, Edward began drafting the script:
On the PoképokéTV, a young tech vlogger named Jane was brainstorming ideas for her next upload. Fascinated by strange technological phenomena and online mysteries, she sought inspiration from the weird corners of the web. One day, she stumbled upon a hidden forum where people whispered about a mysterious video. The legend claimed that anyone who watched it would die seven days later.
At first, Jane thought it was just a clickbait hoax. But curiosity got the better of her—she clicked play. The video was blurry, dimly lit, filled with an unsettling atmosphere and cryptic text. A well appeared briefly on-screen, followed by a single eerie character: '7.' Then it ended.
That was when the seven-day countdown began. Soon after, Jane received a friend request from an account filled with garbled symbols. The only message attached read: "You will die in seven days."
She brushed it off at first, but strange things began happening. Her computer would freeze on its own. Her phone camera activated randomly. In mirrors, fleeting dark shadows flickered behind her. One night, she awoke to see her Pokémon floating mid-air, a white cloth draped over its face, silently pointing toward her computer screen.
It was no prank—something truly supernatural was happening.
Terrified yet aware of her rising fame potential, Jane recorded a serious video warning others not to watch the cursed clip. Ironically, that very video went viral overnight. But as her popularity surged, the haunting intensified. Every night, her dreams returned to that same eerie well—where she found herself standing at its edge.
Desperate, Jane sought the video's origins. But every digital trail led into a maze of dead ends, as if invisible hands were blocking the truth. Even the supposed uploader had long vanished—likely dead. And no matter how she tried, the video could not be deleted.
As the curse grew stronger, Jane's sanity began to fray. Smart appliances malfunctioned. Cold water turned boiling hot. Anonymous accounts spammed her social media with cryptic threats. It was as if the entire world was descending into madness.
In her despair, she turned to an old cybersecurity expert known as Professor Cain. But even he found nothing abnormal in the video—it existed beyond digital logic. Not even deleting servers or wiping data could erase it. It haunted the net like a ghost.
Eventually, Jane learned that others had watched the video before had died. Those who merely skimmed it were fine, but anyone who watched until the end was doomed.
Professor Cain managed to trace the video's imagery to a real-world location—the well. Together, they went there, hoping to break the curse. But Sadako's power had grown far too strong. Even Ghost-type Pokémon were helpless before her wrath. Jane was left in despair, regretting ever uploading her story for fame.
In the end, she hid in a police station, begging Officer Jenny for protection. Yet at that moment, her loyal Pokémon suddenly turned its gaze toward her. Jane froze as she saw the reflection in its eyes morph into a screen—showing that same well. Slowly, Sadako crawled out from the Pokémon's eyes…
"This setting that's a great idea," Edward grinned with satisfaction. It was clever, grounded in the Pokémon world, and fit perfectly with the setting.
With that, he completed his version of The Ring. Though it diverged from the original's plot, he decided to keep the title unchanged.
After all, even something as simple as a telephone ringtone could be terrifying.
Back in the day, phone rings couldn't be customized—they all went "ring-ring-ring", loud and piercing enough to make your scalp tingle. Especially when they rang unexpectedly in the middle of the night, forcing you out of bed—those sounds alone were enough to scare anyone.
"These psychological horror elements still need to be incorporated," Edward said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He hadn't abandoned psychological fear—after all, The Ring relied heavily on it. The early parts didn't have too many jump scares, and while Edward had already added a few, making it truly frightening from the start was no easy task.
So, he'd save the psychological terror as his final weapon.
After finishing his preparations, Edward opened his phone, intending to relax by watching some videos. Coincidentally, one of his favorite streamers had just gone live—discussing none other than Shutter.
Instantly, Edward's curiosity was piqued.
(End of Chapter)