"By the way, I remember that the actress who played Tomie in Tomie: Unrestricted didn't do so well after that movie. Her career went downhill afterward. I even heard she ended up taking a rather… special line of work—as a 'teacher' of sorts."
Edward thoughtfully saved the document he'd been editing, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief.
He couldn't help but sigh inwardly. "Well… that's… quite a complicated story."
He really hadn't expected that the film industry in that nation would be that ruthless and cutthroat. To think that after starring in a few movies, an actress could actually end up becoming a teacher in that type of film… It truly showed how unfairly polarized the entertainment world could be—some drown in opportunities, while others die of thirst.
Still, even if that actress had fallen into such a fate later on, Tomie: Unrestricted itself remained a milestone in horror cinema. Though, to be fair, that "achievement" was rather strange.
After all, the film incorporated several elements from other Junji Ito works—like the scene with the "human-headed centipede." Because of that, many people felt that rather than being terrifying, the movie was just… nauseating.
Edward couldn't help but worry whether Tomie herself might want to take the role if he ever filmed that story again. To make sure, he decided to visit the Ghost Amusement Park where Tomie worked and ask her opinion directly.
At the same time, he figured he might as well turn it into a small company outing—everyone gets an all-access pass to the park, and they could enjoy themselves freely. Edward had no intention of organizing group activities himself.
Too much trouble.
As a former overworked corporate employee in his past life, Edward knew perfectly well that the best team-building activities were those held during work hours and not forced on anyone. The best ones were the ones employees planned themselves.
"Boss, didn't we just have a vacation?" Zoroark blinked in surprise when it heard Edward's plan. It hadn't expected him to organize another group outing right after their break ended.
"I'm just going to the Ghost Amusement Park to handle a small matter," Edward said calmly, picking up the script beside him. Whether Tomie: Unrestricted could actually be filmed or not still depended on Tomie's personal consent. If she refused, he would simply choose another project instead.
Soon, Zoroark drove Edward to the Ghost Amusement Park.
"So many people?" Edward looked at the enormous crowd lining up at the entrance. The sight reminded him of the amusement parks from his previous life—especially during holidays—utterly packed and terrifying in their own way.
"Boss, Miss Tomie is super popular now," Zoroark said with a hint of awe. "Her fan club already has over five hundred and thirty thousand members."
That number shocked even Zoroark. Still, it felt proud—after all, Tomie was an employee under the Ghost Films brand. If not for Edward's rule about not disturbing colleagues during work, their PR department probably would've already tried to get Tomie to officially debut as a celebrity.
Tomie was just…
Too alluring.
There was no other way to describe her.
She wasn't the kind of woman whose beauty was overwhelmingly perfect, but her charm was intoxicating—like a fox spirit in human form.
"Five hundred thousand fans, huh…" Edward's expression grew complicated. As expected of Tomie. If she ever decided to unleash her full allure, even the entire Hoenn League would probably go crazy for her.
When Edward entered the amusement park, that feeling only grew stronger. The park's popularity clearly owed much to Tomie. The line in front of the haunted house was even longer than those for the roller coaster or Ferris wheel—the usual stars of amusement parks. But here, in Edward's park, the haunted house reigned supreme.
Utterly absurd—but impressive.
Of course, as the boss, Edward didn't need to line up. He went straight in through the employee entrance.
"Boss? What brings you here?" Tomie looked surprised to see him.
Edward studied her face closely. She really was beautiful—not the kind of beauty that left one breathless, but something deeper and far more enchanting. Her very presence drew people in.
"Tomie, would you be interested in starring in a movie?" Edward asked, handing her the script. Tomie blinked in confusion as she took it.
She had thought she was just working part-time at the haunted house—why was the boss suddenly offering her an acting job? Still, since it came from him, she opened it and began reading carefully.
Then, after a few moments, she smiled.
"Oh my~ Boss, did you write my old story into a script?" she said teasingly, smiling faintly.
Edward froze for a moment before realizing what she meant. After all, Tomie had been summoned from her own world—just like Kayako from The Grudge. She had lived through those horrors.
"So… would you like to play the role?" Edward asked. "If you do, a lot of people will see your movie. But that also means it might affect your image."
He didn't sugarcoat it. Many actors had been typecast by a single iconic role.
"Of course I'll do it~ Sounds so much fun~" Tomie's eyes sparkled with excitement. Seeing her so thrilled, Edward couldn't help but feel conflicted. He wasn't sure whether it was a good idea anymore—would her co-actors even be able to withstand her overwhelming charm?
Still, he handed her the script and told her to read it over. Though he intended to film Tomie: Unrestricted, production wouldn't start right away. The Grudge 2 hadn't even premiered yet, and Edward planned to wait until its run ended before beginning the next one. That gap would serve as a perfect transition period.
He didn't want to monopolize the horror genre entirely. After he announced The Grudge 2, the studio's phone had been ringing nonstop with people asking about release dates—directors and producers all hoping to avoid clashing with his schedule.
By now, the entire Pokémon film industry regarded Edward as unbeatable in horror—and nearly the same for detective thrillers. Whenever one of his films was scheduled, other studios would immediately adjust their own releases to avoid going head-to-head with him.
At least they were smart. Not stubborn. That was just how the entertainment world worked: when a blockbuster was about to hit theaters, others stepped aside.
After finalizing the script matter with Tomie, Edward felt relieved. He'd originally been considering another horror film—Shutter, the Thai movie about ghosts and photography.
It had a brilliant setup, with subtle foreshadowing that tied together beautifully at the end. It had even been remade in Hollywood—which, as far as Edward was concerned, meant the original was undoubtedly excellent.
"Boss, by the way, have you seen that new movie, I Really Didn't Mean to Kill Him 3?" Zoroark asked as it drove them home, chatting casually about the film industry. Ever since becoming Edward's assistant, it had started taking a real interest in movies, even studying notes from Kuroda, Edward's human secretary.
"I did," Edward said, grimacing. "And honestly, each sequel has been worse than the last."
He winced at the memory. He didn't even want to think about it. It wasn't about the money—he could easily afford a private screening—but about the time he'd wasted watching such a mess. He could've watched anything else instead of that.
The first film had at least been a halfway decent remake, but everything afterward just got worse and worse. He'd only gone because there weren't many good films showing lately. But afterward, he deeply regretted it.
After venting about how the movie industry seemed to decline year after year, Edward finally returned home. But the moment he stepped inside, he saw the old butler carrying a tray. The tray looked familiar—it was usually used to serve tea.
So… there was a guest?
"Young Master Edward, Mr. Kode is waiting for you," the butler said politely.
Edward immediately understood who it was. He picked up Q and hurried to the living room.
The Prayer Wall Charity Foundation had always been one of his ongoing projects. From a business standpoint, it greatly benefited both him and Devon Corporation by boosting their public image. But from a personal standpoint, Edward truly believed in using his excess wealth to help those in need.
Earlier that day, he'd reviewed the Foundation's daily report—it was business as usual. Which made Kode's sudden visit all the more puzzling.
"Kode… you're here—" Edward greeted him with a smile, but when he got closer, he noticed the Alakazam's weary expression. The tiredness etched on Kode's face made Edward's words catch in his throat.
"…You look exhausted," Edward said, frowning slightly.
Kode fell silent for a moment, then sighed heavily.
"Boss, I'd like to request a partner to help share the workload," Kode said simply.
Edward didn't hesitate for a second. "Approved."
He had long since delegated personnel authority to Kode. As far as he was concerned, if you trusted someone, you didn't need to micromanage them.
And having visited the Foundation himself, Edward knew exactly how hard that job was.
Both physically… and mentally.
Physically, the staff had to travel constantly to verify the information of each applicant. Endless visits, endless trips—it didn't sound that bad, but anyone who'd ever traveled nonstop for work knew how draining it was.
Mentally, it was far worse. The cries, the pleading, the grief of those who sought help—it all weighed heavily on the Foundation's workers. Even though Edward had hired professional psychologists and offered excellent benefits, burnout was inevitable.
To work in the Charity Foundation, the first thing one had to learn… was emotional detachment. Otherwise, they'd break.
"That's fine," Kode said with relief. "Boss, the Foundation's workload has grown too large lately. I think we should set up regional branches—each with a division leader in charge."
"Approved," Edward said immediately. "The Grudge 2 brought in over three hundred million in ad revenue. Use that for expansion."
Money could solve problems—and as long as that was the case, it wasn't really a problem at all.
Kode finally smiled. Three hundred million wasn't much compared to their overall operations, but it was enough to make a difference. It meant growth. And growth was everything.
Heaven knew how hard the past few months had been. As the Foundation expanded across all regions of the Pokémon League, its workload had skyrocketed. Kode had been working day and night, barely finding time to rest.
Even for an Alakazam—whose psychic stamina was immense—it had become unbearable.
There were simply too many people who needed help.
The Charity Foundation's fame had spread far and wide. Donations were pouring in—but so were the applications. And among them… were scammers.
The first time Kode encountered one, he had been furious. He couldn't understand how anyone could stoop so low—trying to cheat money meant to save lives.
But later, he understood. There would always be people with no conscience, people who'd do anything for profit.
And in that moment, Kode gained a new level of respect for Edward's insistence on in-person investigations and League cooperation for verification. Thanks to that policy, they had exposed several fraudsters who would've otherwise stolen from the desperate.
(End of Chapter)