"Boss, could you please act like a human being for once?"
Zoroark looked at Edward with a face full of grievance. Edward's mouth twitched—what on earth was this girl throwing a fit about?
When Edward asked Zoroark to go up there, it wasn't because he wanted to give it a fright. He genuinely wanted to eliminate any potential hidden danger. After all, if there really was someone hiding above, then sending Zoroark up was the perfect solution. Whoever it was wouldn't be able to hurt Zoroark anyway. Otherwise, what if one of the crew members later went up and got injured? That would be far worse.
Zoroark sighed helplessly and eventually dove upward. After a short while, it reappeared, shaking its head at Edward with an expression that clearly said, "There's nothing."
The ceiling held absolutely nothing—no Kayako, no shadowy figure at all. There was only a thin layer of dust, which was expected. After all, ceilings were usually not cleaned deliberately, so the housekeeping staff had never gone to tidy it.
"Maybe it was just a mistake?" Edward scratched his head. He figured perhaps one of the cleaning staff had been mistaken, or maybe some Pokémon had noticed the place was unoccupied and wandered in to look around. Such a thing wasn't impossible either.
"Boss, in that case, can we start preparing for filming now?" Zoroark asked earnestly. Since it had just gone up and confirmed that no one was there, its courage had returned. With no people and no ghosts, what was there to fear? It didn't even tremble.
Edward nodded. The cast for The Grudge 2 was already mostly recruited, so starting filming now was no problem at all.
Zoroark, acting naturally, pulled the curtains closed. The season's sunlight was still somewhat glaring.
"Then I'll make a call and have the crew come over." Zoroark picked up the phone. Once the crew members arrived, the eerie atmosphere would disappear—after all, no matter the situation, having many people together always gave one courage.
"Thud!"
The sudden sound interrupted Edward and Zoroark's conversation and froze Zoroark mid-action. Its eyes widened, staring blankly at Edward, then it slowly tilted its head upward.
Edward also lifted his head in silence. He had heard it too. That sound had come from the second floor. And with that dull thud, as though something had dropped heavily to the ground, the entire room instantly fell into silence.
"B-Boss…" Zoroark's voice carried a sobbing tone. Edward rolled his eyes. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he was sure it wasn't Kayako. This was the world of Pokémon, after all. And Edward had already disabled that particular function—Kayako absolutely couldn't have remained here. The system wouldn't allow it.
"Shhhk… shhhk…"
A strange dragging sound of a plastic bag echoed, followed by the creak of a door opening upstairs. The dragging then moved closer toward the staircase corner. Zoroark looked ready to cry outright. Edward himself grew slightly tense—not out of fear of Kayako, but rather of the unknown.
He narrowed his eyes. That sound… wasn't it the exact crawling noise associated with Kayako? Could it really be her? Impossible. Edward knew very well Kayako was fictional. And even if she somehow existed, under the system's restrictions she couldn't possibly stay here.
Much of human fear was rooted in the unknown. That was why in many horror movies, the ultimate evil spirit never appeared at the very start. Instead, it flashed briefly now and then, lurking at the edges, before finally showing its full face at the right moment. This technique maximized the audience's inner dread.
Edward understood this principle deeply. It was something The Grudge itself exemplified perfectly.
"Boss… it… it's coming down."
Zoroark actually burst into tears, clutching Edward's clothes and hiding behind him. Edward's mouth twitched again, utterly speechless. Who was the Pokémon here? Wasn't Zoroark supposed to be the fearsome one? He genuinely didn't get it.
But when he saw a pale hand stretching out from around the staircase corner, Edward actually laughed.
So, it really was Kayako?
In that case, there was nothing to worry about.
"Q." Edward called calmly, holding his little partner. At his words, Q leapt forward, unleashing a pumpkin-sized Shadow Ball straight into the face of the figure just turning its head.
"Hiiiisshhk!"
A sharp scream rang out. Kayako's image instantly dissolved, revealing instead a Banette. The Pokémon shrieked in pain, then glared menacingly at Q.
But before Banette could make a move, Void followed up with another strike, sending it crashing through a wall in a sorry state before it fled.
"This Banette is interesting… where did it even learn Kayako's image from?" Edward was genuinely curious. He hadn't expected it to be a Banette. Sure, he had guessed some Pokémon might be behind the scare, but Banette? That one didn't normally possess such illusionary abilities.
Zoroark, meanwhile, wished it could crawl under the sofa. A Ghost-type Pokémon, and yet it had been frightened into tears by Banette of all things—what a humiliation.
Edward gave it a glance but didn't comment further. Instead, he called the crew, instructing everyone to gather. Soon, the house bustled with people, and Zoroark finally relaxed.
"Remember this for next time—there are no ghosts. And besides, isn't Kayako standing right behind you right now?" Edward teased, pointing behind it.
Zoroark froze and turned stiffly. Sure enough, Fuji Takako stood there, smiling warmly as she greeted it. Zoroark nearly screamed on the spot.
"Director Edward, I'm so grateful to be able to work with you again." Fuji Takako said cheerfully.
Edward smiled and waved his hand.
Fuji Takako was truly grateful. Edward had helped her so much. Even though she only ever played the ghostly female roles, because she acted in Edward's films, she'd managed to build a reputation in the film industry. No longer a complete nobody, she was now receiving offers.
She had even taken a supporting role in a small-budget youth film. Her performance impressed the crew so much that the director later regretted not casting her as the lead. But since shooting was already finished, it was too late to change.
"Miss Takako, for this project there are some physical movements you'll need to practice in advance." Edward explained calmly. As a director, he was always hands-on with details, especially concerning the actors.
"Yes, Director." Fuji Takako listened earnestly, without a hint of arrogance. Still, the most famous actor in this cast wasn't her—it was the man playing Tatsuya Suzuki.
A bona fide film emperor.
He was still on his way, but Edward didn't mind. The invitation had gone out rather suddenly, and while The Grudge 2 was mostly prepared, the exact shooting date hadn't been finalized yet. Naturally, the actors needed some time.
It wasn't as though Edward had delayed scheduling to show off his status in the industry. He simply had been too busy handling the meteor crisis earlier.
Meanwhile—
"President, that concludes the current matters of the company. Regarding this contract, should we discuss it further with those authors?"
Inside an office, Fortune sat handling affairs of Stone Comics.
After nodding and sending the subordinate off respectfully, Fortune leaned back in its chair.
Being a leader wasn't as glamorous as it seemed. In fact, it felt nerve-wracking at times. Still, it was handling things reasonably well. Yet Fortune noticed something peculiar—the knowledge it had learned in university didn't seem to apply perfectly here.
When it first joined, it had thought to apply textbook methods and management templates to improve company efficiency. But after examining the financial reports and workflow closely, it realized such rigid application would have made an absolute mess.
That revelation taught Fortune an important truth: book knowledge was just theory. True mastery required practice, from which one could build their own system. Luckily, it had Edward as its Trainer—wealthy enough to simply hand it company management experience directly, skipping the usual bottom-rung grind and starting straight from the management level.
But Edward had also said that once Stone Comics stabilized, Fortune would need to go to Devon Corporation and start from the grassroots. He believed only by knowing the bottom rung's work could a leader avoid being deceived later.
Although the idea of subordinates tricking their superiors sounded far-fetched, Edward had insisted, so Fortune accepted it. It was curious whether the strange "stories" Edward told were true, though—such as eggs selling for thousands because of ignorance. Fortune had even searched history books for days trying to find proof, nearly losing sleep over it.
But that wasn't the point.
Its current task was crucial—Edward had assigned it two comics to bring to life as pillars of Stone Comics.
The first was a color comic featuring a man in a distinctive costume with an "S" on his chest, flying through the sky. His abilities listed beside him nearly made Fortune mistake him for a humanoid legendary Pokémon.
Super strength, super speed, freezing breath, heat vision from his eyes—it was outrageous.
The comic wasn't long, just some basic setting sketches, but already brimming with intrigue. Having studied manga production since being appointed, Fortune now had enough understanding to judge potential. And this one clearly had it—it was fresh, unique, with nothing similar on the market.
The second was another color comic, showing a masked, muscular man with a sleek, handsome car. His abilities were more grounded compared to the first.
Flipping further, Fortune saw another figure: a man in a purple suit, slightly hunched, holding a playing card—the joker. His face was painted white, with red paint at the corners of his mouth forming a wide, grotesque smile.
This character was called "The Joker." The notes listed his traits, dizzying to read, but fascinating. Bringing such a character alive would be up to the artists.
"Batman?" Fortune thought of the hero's name to itself, finding it a bit odd. Bat—did it mean like Zubat?
Still, it prepared to get to work.
Under Fortune's direction, Stone Comics quickly began running at full capacity. Ten artists arrived, receiving the character sheets and story outlines. Fortune, speaking through a microphone, instructed them to follow the initial requirements closely but allowed freedom later, as long as the character designs and world background remained consistent. The only condition was striving for excellence.
The ten artists split into two groups of five, each allowed to recruit assistants.
"President, about the current matters of the company…" The former president entered the office, causing all of Fortune's coins to jingle nervously. Still, it straightened up, adjusting its mindset to tackle the next tasks.
After all, its Trainer had said that in the future it would even help manage Devon Corporation. Sometimes Fortune couldn't help but feel its Trainer was unusual—other Trainers focused on battles and championships, while its own Trainer encouraged studying, even sending it to university, only asking it to manage companies in return.
Still, Fortune found it enjoyable. It was genuinely interested in this kind of work.
And yet, no matter what…
It couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something just wasn't quite right.
(End of Chapter)