"Hey~ isn't this the almighty, all-knowing Lord Zoroark himself~? What grand instructions does the great lord have for me today~?" Edward beamed at the Zoroark standing before him. Zoroark's face had gone pale, looking so embarrassed she wished she could disappear. Edward just kept smiling cheerfully.
As everyone knows, you absolutely cannot reveal certain things in front of your close friends. A lot of boys don't write drafts or scripts precisely because they're afraid that once they go to school the next day, they'll end up being labeled with all sorts of titles and nicknames. So, an unspoken mutual understanding naturally forms between them. Edward felt that this must be the legendary "Dark Forest Law."
Only, unlike the true Dark Forest Law where everyone hides in a dark forest together, the boys' version was more like: everyone waits for someone else to expose a flaw first, and once a weakness shows, that person immediately gets stuck with a nickname—followed by a years-long war of dorm-room "father–son hierarchy" jokes.
"Boss!!" Zoroark puffed up in anger, fur standing on end. Edward burst out laughing. This girl Zoroark really was interesting. Never in his life did Edward imagine that Zoroark would produce such… creative things—and even write them seriously. Although, to be fair, the scripts Zoroark wrote were indeed pretty entertaining, giving Edward a genuinely amused feeling.
And now, Zoroark's writing had started to show traces of Edward's influence as well. The stories actually had some real charm now. Personally, Edward was quite satisfied with Zoroark's progress.
"Alright, alright, let's not talk about that anymore. Just now you mentioned Harry Potter—what exactly were you talking about?" Edward coughed lightly and looked at Zoroark as he asked. Harry Potter had been massively successful in his previous life, but whether it could succeed in this world… Edward wasn't entirely sure. So he was understandably nervous.
"The release date for Harry Potter has been finalized. Also, the screenwriter we recruited earlier, the one who wrote Dead Talents Society, he recently submitted a new script." Zoroark took a deep breath and reported the situation. Edward's interest was immediately piqued.
Edward, of course, knew Dead Talents Society. He had seen it before—a ghost film that was surprisingly entertaining. That was why Edward had hired the guy. What he didn't expect was that the writer had already submitted a new script.
Although Edward couldn't gain Fear Points from these scripts, he honestly didn't care that much at the moment. He planned to let the audience rest for a while. After all, The Grudge 3 breaking past one billion at the box office had already earned him a huge amount of Fear Points. Giving the audience a breather wasn't a bad idea.
"Oh? What is it?" Edward looked at Zoroark curiously while casually glancing down at the script in his hands. Zoroark's face turned red, then white, then red again—she looked both mortified and agitated. Edward just smiled without commenting. But as he scanned through the script, he actually found it quite interesting. Maybe one day it could even be adapted into a drama series or something.
"Boss… that script is mine…" Zoroark ground her teeth. Edward continued flipping through it with interest. The plot really was amusing. Edward cleared his throat.
"Roar!"
"Awooo!"
"Roooaarr!"
Edward made a few imitation sound effects on purpose as he read Zoroark's script while Zoroark's face instantly turned green due to nervousness.
…
Passionate, thunderous sounds echoed nonstop across Edward's training grounds. Edward coughed twice and stepped inside—only to see his old buddy Salamance, lifting Snorlax up and performing a full German Suplex on him. Snorlax's head slammed straight into the ground. The reinforced terrain—rebuilt and repaired countless times—shook so hard that dust rose in a cloud.
Edward's mouth twitched. Yep… Salamence was just as violent as ever.
"That's enough, Salamence. Don't be so rough. Snorlax can't take that. He still has to train with me later." Edward sighed helplessly at the dragon-style wrestling scene in front of him and shook his head. Salamence was perfect in every way—except when he got excited, he completely lost control. That was why, during training sessions, Salamence was almost always assigned to train alone.
After all, not every Pokémon could survive a Salamence going full power.
Worse still, Salamence always trained with extreme dedication, which made injuries far too common.
Looking at Salamence exaggerated muscles—especially his forelimbs, which were now about the size of an average adult male's head, Edward felt it was no surprise at all that Salamence had received maxed-out Attack stats in the League's official TCG cards.
But all of this was the result of long, relentless training. Back when Salamence was just a tiny Bagon, he had boarded Edward's pirate ship—metaphorically speaking. Later, due to a chance event, Salamence developed a passion for fitness… and once he started, he went completely out of control.
And now he had turned into this Salamence—bulkier than most others of his species—every muscle a trophy earned through years of unyielding training.
"Rooaarr!" Salamence finally released the wheezing Snorlax, then glided over with a flap of his wings, landing steadily in front of Edward. He affectionately rubbed his massive head against Edward, nearly knocking him off his feet with the sheer force of it.
Edward laughed as he rubbed Salamence's head. As he thought about Snorlax's training nearing completion, another question surfaced: Could Salamence still grow stronger? Edward genuinely felt that Salamence had almost reached the limit of what could be developed. There weren't many areas left to improve—maybe flexibility?
"Snorlax, let's go. I prepared some of yesterday's spicy hot pot for you. Salamence, do you want some too?" Edward called out to Snorlax while casually asking Salamence.
As expected, Salamence shook his head immediately. Edward wasn't surprised. Salamence was extremely strict about his diet—every single meal was calculated to maintain peak condition and preserve his muscle mass.
All of it was designed by certified League nutritionists. Edward had checked it himself—it was good… just excessively strict. Living with that kind of discipline every day was practically self-inflicted torture.
"Salamence … sometimes you really need to learn how to enjoy life." Edward sighed helplessly at his Pokémon.
He felt something was wrong with himself.
Other trainers wished their Pokémon would grow stronger as fast as possible, but Edward was the opposite—he wished his Pokémon would stop obsessing over getting stronger. Sure, the League was planning a Masters Tournament, but no one knew when it would actually take place. Ash probably already had one or two championship titles by now…
Yes. If he put it that way… everything really did end up relating to Ash somehow. Edward always referred to the year Ash first started his journey as "Year One of the Ash Calendar."
"Roar." Salamence shook his head determinedly. He firmly believed he could grow even stronger. Faced with Salamence's stubbornness, Edward had no way to force him. Besides, Edward had heard of forcing someone to train, but never forcing someone not to train.
Truly, Salamence was a Pokémon born with tenacity.
"Kiss~!"
A cheerful cry echoed overhead. Togekiss swooped in from the sky and affectionately nuzzled Edward's cheek. When Edward looked up, he noticed a small camera mounted on Togekiss's head.
"Good morning, Togekiss. Did you go out to livestream again?" Edward walked back toward his home with the now-docile Snorlax, chatting with Togekiss along the way.
Togekiss nodded happily. Edward pulled out his phone for a quick look—Togekiss's aerial livestream room still had about 300–400 viewers. Compared to the top streamers, that number was nothing…
But the problem was: Togekiss had extremely high fan loyalty.
Edward honestly couldn't understand it. Togekiss's flights were practically "hell difficulty"—yet so many people loved watching the stream. Edward had watched once himself. Togekiss didn't speak at all (it couldn't), and the entire stream was just nonstop spinning, rotating, dizzying aerial footage. Edward had nearly thrown up.
Yet some people actually enjoyed it. He truly couldn't comprehend.
Still, he didn't stop Togekiss. Having hobbies was a good thing. And now that Togekiss had learned how to torment other people, Edward suffered far less. Otherwise, the old Togekiss used to drag him on "breezy flights" every day—giving Edward daily headaches on how to reject his own Pokémon.
After helping Snorlax complete today's training metrics, Edward followed the ever-impatient Lorelei out. Before leaving, he asked Venasaur to care for the garden plants later.
As the League Champion, Edward received not only the privileges of the title but also an enormous sum of money. Even though he served as Champion for only one year, he had already saved more wealth than most people could accumulate in a lifetime.
Naturally, he also owned what could only be described as a mansion by modern-world standards.
"Giovanni is still the same as always?" Edward asked Lorelei casually. He was all too familiar with Giovanni. To say the Team Rocket trio accompanied Ash forever wouldn't be an exaggeration. Edward, of course, meant Jessie, James, and Meowth. Unfortunately, no one had found them yet.
"Mm. He just lies there every day, spacing out, reading newspapers." Lorelei was driving, but she still answered his question.
Giovanni was strong, yes… but still not as omnipotent as Lord Zoroark.
"Forget it. Let's go see him anyway." Edward sighed.
When Edward arrived at the League's secret prison, he first underwent multiple security checks. Guarding the place were not only Officer Jenny from the Jenny family but also League Investigation Officers.
"Hm? They're not confiscating my Poké Balls?" Edward looked at the Poké Balls on his belt. Normally, only Champions and Elite Four were allowed to bring them inside. It was a privilege.
"Even though you resigned, you're still the first Champion of the Indigo League. I heard the Chairman is considering awarding you the title of Honorary Champion." Lorelei slowed her steps as they entered deeper.
The secret prison didn't only employ active Officers. Several retired Elite Four from Indigo were stationed here as well. So, while the prison looked peaceful, elite-4 level power was hidden everywhere. If Edward hadn't resigned, perhaps even Champions would take turns standing guard in the future.
"I see." Edward didn't care much. Champion or not, let someone else deal with that. He had no desire to be tied to that burden again.
To many people, becoming Champion sounded glorious and exhilarating. Handling official duties might even feel prestigious. But Edward was absolutely not one of those people. To him, being Champion was suffering. When he was younger, he had foolishly believed Champions only had to wait for challengers. When he actually became Champion, he learned the painful truth.
Giovanni, being the leader of the largest dark organization in Kanto, was of course held with the highest level of security. His cell was located right next to the stationed Elite Four guard's quarters, an unmistakable sign of how seriously he was being watched.
Despite being a "cell," the environment wasn't bad. The people imprisoned here were far from ordinary criminals. If conditions were too poor, it would only provoke unrest. So, the League maintained decent living conditions, but anything equivalent to a normal life was impossible.
Usually, meeting Giovanni required tedious security procedures from the stationed Elite Four… but Edward was allowed to bypass them entirely. It was obvious to him: the League still wanted to win him back.
These political tricks, these silent gestures meant to win someone over—League veterans were absolute experts at them.
"You're here, Champion." When Edward entered, Giovanni was sitting on a sofa watching television. The League didn't restrict this privilege, though any external communication was strictly forbidden.
Edward nearly burst out laughing at the sight. Ever since Giovanni's downfall, there had been a surge of documentaries and programs about him.
Zoroark, still sulking, stormed over and snatched back its manuscript, then angrily handed Edward another one. Edward looked at the cover:
"Ghost Mansion."
Edward raised an eyebrow. This name seems familiar…
He flipped it open—and instantly understood.
Isn't this literally that classic Korean horror film?
When it came to horror films, East Asia had always been top-tier. Besides Japan, there was also this divided country. Their horror films were well-known. The Whispering Corridors franchise alone had been famous for years. Later productions were also quite decent.
(End of Chapter)