Zhuo Ge made an oversized wolf-hair brush to write the name on the film base's main gate.
Though the hair came from gnolls rather than weasels, it was still "wolf" hair in a sense—close enough.
Funny how after all this time in Twin Spires City, the first time he reverted to his original (larger) form was just to write calligraphy.
He dipped the brush into a vat of paint. It had been ages since he used a brush like this, so he practiced on the ground a bit first.
"As water nourishes all things," "Great virtue carries all things," "Heaven rewards diligence"...
He wrote out all the favorite mottos that middle-aged entrepreneurs liked to hang in their offices. Not bad—he was getting the feel back.
Coincidentally, Draconic script also used block-shaped logograms, so writing it gave him a nostalgic Chinese calligraphy vibe.
Holding his breath and focusing, he wrote a line on the wall.
"What does it say?" Aisha looked up and shouted.
"Shudian Film City," Zhuo Ge called back.
Another incomprehensible name. How utterly unexpected.
Aisha cupped her hands to her mouth like a megaphone and shouted, "Can't you name it something prettier?!"
"You just don't get it—this is called ceremonial significance."
Zhuo Ge quickly shrunk back to his smaller size. After getting used to it, his original form just felt... impractical. Nothing fit.
With the sign done, it was time to check on the results of the film base construction.
According to the plan, it should've taken a bit longer to finish. But the murlocs had pitched in massively.
Originally, the drow handled design and the goblins and orcs did the construction. But when the murlocs saw them working, they shouted something like "For the Sea Mother!" and leapt in to help, brick in hand.
They made up for their lack of brains with sheer volume of labor.
Sixteen-hour shifts, no days off, no pay, not even meals required. Zhuo Ge felt genuinely guilty watching them work that hard.
No wonder past rulers loved using religion—it exploited people just as thoroughly as slavery, and the exploited even thanked you for it.
To avoid literally working the murlocs to death, Aisha once again played the role of the Sea Mother. This time, the shrimp head had been cleaned, so there was no fishy smell.
She gave orders in the Sea Mother's name that they must eat with the orcs and take longer breaks each day.
The Saint Mountain Journey set consisted of three major areas: a full-scale train station replica, outdoor railroad with train, and the main indoor train car scenes.
The station was built full-scale to prepare for future developments. Zhuo Ge planned to turn the entire island into a theme park once filming was done.
Imagine tourists being chased by zombie hordes through a train station—what a rush!
The train on the tracks was just a shell. Steam trains were still cutting-edge tech here and hard to acquire. During filming, a squad of orcs would be inside pushing it.
The main shooting location was a set of detachable train cars—walls on both sides could be removed to make camera movement easier.
The most high-tech part was the magic crystal screen walls outside the cars. These would project illusions cast by Fulin, simulating the scenery outside a moving train.
All the cars were set inside a cave, where lighting magic controlled the light sources, even simulating tunnel darkness.
Even better than Zhuo Ge had imagined.
Now there was only one issue left—who would play the zombies?
In the original, the zombies were all background actors carefully selected and trained over a long period.
Professional choreographers had designed distinct movements for different body types, ages, genders, and degrees of mutation.
Say what you will about K-Drama Land's eccentricities—they did take their art seriously. At least their stars didn't earn only 208 a day.
But Zhuo Ge didn't have those resources.
No choreographers. Zombie makeup was also a problem.
Given the primitive state of cosmetics in this world (they didn't even have shampoo), their makeup and prosthetics just weren't good enough.
Two possible solutions came to mind, both with issues.
One: use illusions to mask actors. This might work for a small number of zombies, but for a massive horde scene? Not even Fulin could guarantee stability.
Two: hire necromancers to summon real zombies. Very authentic, but risky. Even if no one got hurt, the psychological trauma would be real—especially since some of the cast were children.
So... what now?
Zhuo Ge, Aisha, Fulin, and Yuno sat around a table, staring at each other.
"Anyone got any ideas?" Zhuo Ge asked.
Silence.
This whole movie thing was new to all of them. No one had experience to draw from.
Just as Zhuo Ge was about to rewrite the script and cut out the large-scale corpse horde scene, Yuno hesitantly raised a hand.
"I think I might know some people who could do it."
Yuno led Zhuo Ge through the refugee quarters.
Compared to the mixed-race districts and the slums, this place was far worse. Those were merely dirty and chaotic. This was hopeless.
A few sticks and a tarp made a home. People wore sackcloth rags, their faces hollow, and every few steps someone lay collapsed by the road.
Everyone here was just quietly waiting for death.
"You sure know your way around here," Zhuo Ge said curiously. Yuno had always been a straight-A student—he didn't seem like someone who belonged here.
"I used to rent a room here," Yuno replied without hesitation. "It cost a fraction of a dorm room. Being poor can be scarier than dying. People say the diseases here are contagious—that's not true. If it were, I'd be long dead."
He led Zhuo Ge to the very heart of the district. Dozens of people sat motionless on the ground like clay statues.
Pale skin, bulging veins, cloudy eyes—they looked like real zombies.
"The final stage of Steam Curse," Yuno explained. "That's what the church calls it. These were the hardest-working laborers. The more you worked around steam engines, the more likely you were to get it. But I don't buy that. Someone's sabotaging things—they don't want to see steam tech advance."
So even this world's tech development was being suppressed, like magic?
But Zhuo Ge set those thoughts aside for now.
"You sure they can act?"
"Absolutely. Just offer payment. Even if they won't live long enough to spend it, their families still need the help."
"No, I mean—can they actually move the way the script requires?"
Yuno pulled a small bottle from his bag. "This is Lucky Elixir. It's what they need most. Even at this late stage, it won't cure them, but it eases the pain."
"So you're going to…"
"Show you what they're capable of."
Yuno uncapped the bottle.
The "clay statues" twitched. One by one, they rose to their feet and staggered toward him.
Their steps quickened—but their limbs didn't cooperate. They crawled, writhed, staggered forward in grotesque, unnatural postures.
Zhuo Ge knew these dying people posed no threat to him.
Still, he felt a chill.
Because what he saw wasn't just a crowd—
It was a living corpse tide.