In the dorm room, Jax sat on his bed and watched the first episode of the documentary that followed Diane's day at work.
This young woman—barely a year or two older than them—was busy from dawn to dusk, constantly on the move. She reviewed case after case of people seeking help, carefully verifying every detail before submitting the documents to her superiors. At one point, she even encountered a fraud case.
The man in question drove a luxury car and lived in a mansion, yet still had the audacity to apply for financial aid from the Prayer Wall Charity Foundation. That moment had completely enraged Diane. She scolded the man harshly, almost breaking into a full-on argument. In the end, she had to call Officer Jenny and her team to intervene before things finally calmed down.
"Miss Diane, aren't you worried that arguing with an applicant like that might damage the foundation's reputation?" one of the camera crew asked her during an interview.
At the time, they were riding in a car—Diane was heading to another children's hospital. There was a little girl there, bedridden by a serious illness at such a young age. Her parents were drowning in debt, completely unable to pay for the treatment.
"Our foundation's director, Mr. Kode, once told me something," Diane replied with a faint smile. "We're here to do charity, not to provide customer service. We don't need to swallow everyone's nonsense."
The footage then cut to a personal profile segment introducing Kode himself.
[Kode – an Alakazam, is the Director of the Prayer Wall Charity Foundation, and currently its sole leader. Discovered by Mr. Edward Stone. Through strict rules and systems, he has guided the foundation step by step to where it is today.]
"An Alakazam, huh? That's incredible," one of Jax's roommates said in awe. "And to think Director Edward, the horror film director, is behind all this. Never imagined he'd be doing something so good."
Jax didn't reply. He knew Edward was an excellent horror director, but beyond that, he knew very little. After all, Edward was rich—someone from a completely different world than people like them.
He never imagined that Edward had quietly done so much for charity. It was… astonishing.
The first episode lasted only 120 minutes, yet it compactly captured Diane's entire day. In that short time, she met with six different people in need—her oldest case was seventy-two years old, and the youngest was only four.
Their ages varied greatly, but one thing was the same: their eyes were all red from crying, and their homes were all nearly destitute.
"One illness can destroy an entire family," Jax sighed deeply. The documentary was heavy—so heavy that he could barely breathe. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and quietly opened the window. None of his roommates objected; they all felt it too.
Even though the film didn't use many cold tones or bleak filters, it still somehow made it hard to breathe.
By the time the documentary reached midnight in Diane's schedule, she was dragging her exhausted body back to the hotel. Thankfully, the foundation covered all business travel expenses, which was one of the few employee benefits.
"Tired? Of course I'm tired," she said in a final interview before going to her room. "But whenever I think that every minute I rest could mean someone out there dies waiting for help, I stop feeling tired."
After she said goodnight and went to bed, the episode wasn't quite over yet.
The camera lingered on the hotel entrance. Moments later, Diane appeared again—backpack slung over her shoulder—as she hurried out. The next shot zoomed in on a clock. The time was 4:30 a.m.
Counting it all, she had slept less than four and a half hours. Excluding time for washing up and dressing, it was probably closer to four. No wonder she was always catching naps on the bus.
As she stepped out from the bright hotel lobby into the darkness before dawn, the first episode came to an end.
[Diane is only one of many case reviewers at the Prayer Wall Charity Foundation. There are countless others like her.]
With that message, the screen faded to black.
For a moment, the dorm fell completely silent. The first episode alone was already so heavy—what about the second? Or the third?
"Come on, play the next one," one roommate urged.
They didn't bother turning on the comment section. Partly because they were among the first to watch it, but mostly because this type of documentary was better viewed without distractions. It felt more real that way.
Jax nodded and started the second episode. Everyone sat up straight, forgetting all about the video game session they had planned for the afternoon.
The second episode opened with a look inside the foundation's day-to-day operations.
[The official address of the Prayer Wall Charity Foundation is fake—or rather, the listed address is only for their customer service branch. The real foundation operates elsewhere.]
"Why's that?" the interviewer asked.
"You'll see when you visit that place," one employee explained seriously. "Everyone knows it's just a customer service site now, but people still gather outside, kneeling and holding signs asking for help. Our director thought that scene might affect normal operations, so he moved our office."
The next shot proved it true—a crowd of desperate people kneeling in front of a building, pleading for aid. When the film crew arrived, those people rushed toward them, eyes filled with desperate hope.
The director didn't say a word. The camera just kept rolling, silently capturing every painful second.
The result was haunting. Even through the screen, Jax could feel the crushing desperation of those families—the sheer hunger to survive. His breath quickened without him realizing.
[Every month, the Prayer Wall Charity Foundation receives thousands of applications. To ensure that only those in true need are helped, the foundation follows extremely strict review standards. Even one unmet condition results in rejection.]
[Some say—]
"This is inhuman! My son has uremia—uremia! I've been applying for two months!" an elderly woman cried hysterically, clutching the camera.
"My boy's blind, and this year's his most important exam! We don't have a single cent left!" another man begged toward the lens.
All these people were pleading—begging—but still couldn't pass the reviews.
"The review requirements have always been public," one foundation worker told the crew, handing them a printed list. The standards were indeed harsh. But even with such rigor, the foundation's donations were still vanishing fast.
The documentary also showed Diane's paperwork for one case—the woman who had knelt and begged for her husband. Her case met all the criteria, and a transfer of more than two million pokedollars had already been wired to the hospital's account, accurate to the last cent.
"These funds are strictly for medical treatment and follow-up care," the finance officer explained seriously. "If it's not enough, we coordinate with the hospital to send more. If there's any left, it's returned to the foundation to help others."
Unlike the first episode, the second had no heartbreaking cries or cold hospital scenes. It focused entirely on the internal workflow—precise, methodical, almost mechanical. After watching it, Jax joked that he probably understood the foundation's procedures well enough to work there himself.
But the job clearly came with immense pressure.
The film even revealed that the foundation employed in-house psychologists and had relaxation rooms for staff—meant to prevent burnout and keep employees mentally healthy despite the constant stress.
"Mr. Kode, how would you describe the Prayer Wall Charity Foundation?" the interviewer asked at the end of the episode.
Kode looked up from his paperwork. A psychic speech amplifier on his chest glowed softly as his calm voice resonated through it.
"This is an organization striving to become better," he said, "to help more and more people."
"Well, that one felt… a bit lighter," one roommate commented.
"Maybe on the surface," another said. "But if you think about it, it's still dark. You saw all those applications? No matter how much money they raise, it'll never be enough."
Jax nodded. "Director Edward may be rich, and he's donated a ton, but even that's just a drop in the bucket. The need is endless."
They talked for a while, then started the third episode.
This one was noticeably brighter. The director Sanders seemed to realize that unrelenting heaviness would wear viewers down. So, the third episode followed families who had recovered thanks to the foundation's help, showing their new lives after healing.
By the end, everyone felt their spirits lift a little.
"After graduation… I want to work at the Prayer Wall Charity Foundation," Jax said quietly.
No one replied, but all of them felt the same stirring emotion.
Then one roommate snorted. "Dream on. With how viral this show is, can you imagine how many people are thinking the same thing?"
The documentary's release caused massive ripples online. It wasn't quite the cultural explosion of a blockbuster film, but it came close. In just one day, all three episodes surpassed thirty million views—averaging ten million each—and the comment sections were overflowing.
[I'm so grateful to the Prayer Wall Charity Foundation. My dad's alive today because of them.]
[Why's everyone working themselves to death? I thought school was bad enough…]
[Even Pokémon staff have it rough—handling that many cases a day.]
[Pfft. Edward's rich—he could donate way more than this. Hypocrite!]
[Shut it, idiot. If you think it's so easy, why don't you donate?]
The comments came in every shape and tone imaginable.
For the foundation, the reaction was bittersweet.
They were happy—because donations skyrocketed overnight. Companies and celebrities were offering massive contributions, some even donating millions at a time. Many people also applied to join the organization.
But they were also overwhelmed—because the number of applicants seeking help grew even faster. Now that everyone understood the strict eligibility criteria, countless families realized they qualified and began flooding in applications.
The workload exploded overnight. Still, it was a sign of growth, and the foundation entered a period of rapid expansion.
When Edward heard the news, he smiled faintly. "It's growing faster than expected. That's an unexpected blessing."
He glanced at the trending comments and all the media buzz surrounding the foundation, his eyes reflecting quiet satisfaction.
The documentary's success had exceeded his expectations. And with advertisements now entering the rotation, the foundation's visibility would only continue to rise—though that also meant greater risk.
The higher you fly, the harder you fall.
Edward knew that better than anyone. He decided to have Kode conduct a full internal inspection, while also asking Secretary Kennedy to coordinate with the Devon Corporation's audit division for assistance.
There could be no corruption, no "black sheep" exploiting charity for personal gain.
"Understood, boss. I'll take care of it right away," Kennedy replied over the phone. He had been following the foundation's growth closely and was impressed that Edward anticipated the risks so early.
With that settled, Edward finally allowed himself a breath of relief. It was time to focus on something else—like releasing The Grudge 2, to once again harvest the audience's deepest fears.
He had been holding it back deliberately, since the old director's film Rear Window had just premiered—and Edward had to admit, the old man's craftsmanship still held strong. The reviews were glowing.
(End of Chapter)