The explosive success of The Grudge 2 was entirely within Edward's expectations. After all, the sequel's quality was exceptionally solid, and it was only natural for the market to embrace it. Moreover, the first Grudge had already built a rock-solid foundation for the series.
Therefore, when The Grudge 2 broke two hundred fifty million in box office revenue on its very first week, Edward wasn't surprised in the slightest. After all, The Grudge had long been hailed as one of the scariest horror movies in the world.
That ranking came from a movie website that had once conducted a massive survey, gathering over a million votes. The final result placed The Grudge at the very top as "the most terrifying horror film." Of course, Edward had modestly commented that it was merely one of the most terrifying horror films, not the most.
In his past life, there had never been a definite answer to the question of which film was the scariest. After all, fear was subjective—everyone had their own definition of what was truly horrifying.
But in this world, at least for now, The Grudge truly stood as the most frightening and unsettling horror movie. Its success mirrored the acclaim it had achieved in Edward's previous life, so he remained calm and composed about it.
At this moment, Edward was sitting cross-legged in the grass of Petalburg Woods, playing a card game with Gengar.
"Gengar, it's your turn. Why are you taking so long to play your card?" Edward looked helplessly at the Pokémon across from him. Gengar scratched its head awkwardly, then glanced again at the cards in its hand. On one card was a chibi-style Gengar illustration with several lines of text printed below it:
[Overlord: When you are about to be attacked, you may summon all Pokémon from the Hoenn Region's factions to help you evade the attack. Count it as a successful dodge.]
[Gluttony: Gain the card that inflicted damage to you.]
"But wait—how come when you attacked me, nobody came to help me dodge?" Gengar asked in confusion. Edward's mouth twitched slightly as he looked around. Right now, there were only four of them present—himself, Gengar, Zoroark, and the old butler Robert.
"Because that's an Overlord skill," Edward explained patiently. "You have to be an Overlord to use it. Since there are only a few of us here, we're just playing a simple battle mode—free-for-all. I attack you, you attack Zoroark, Zoroark attacks Grandpa Robert, and Grandpa Robert attacks me. Got it?"
He sighed as he explained.
This whole thing was Edward's own creation—a Pokémon-world version of a Three Kingdoms card battle game. In his previous life, despite the original game having a ton of negative press, it had somehow continued to thrive, proving its incredible money-making potential.
Edward's goal, however, wasn't simply profit. He wanted to build a charity hospital in every region, and he didn't intend to use Devon Corporation's funds for that. To make this happen, he decided to earn the money himself—and this card game would be his first step toward that goal.
"Then why are your abilities so strong?" Gengar asked suspiciously. Edward glanced at the card lying on his camping mat—it featured an Alakazam belonging to the Kanto faction, with two powerful abilities:
[Future Sight: At the start of your turn, you may look at the top X cards of the deck and rearrange or place them at the bottom of the deck.]
[Mystery: When you have no cards in hand, you cannot be targeted by attacks or duels.]
"Because I made the game," Edward said calmly, "so of course I know which cards to pick."
Gengar's face darkened—literally. It started attacking Edward wildly, making him both amused and exasperated. This mischievous ghost always threw the rules out the window whenever it got angry, attacking recklessly just for the fun of it.
Still, Edward didn't really mind. He was here partly to bond with Gengar and partly to test whether his card game idea had market potential.
From the looks of it, things weren't bad so far. He just didn't know how well it would do once released publicly. If possible, Edward planned to start by promoting it online. After all, the Pokémon world had a massive online community, and launching it digitally would be much simpler than arranging a physical release.
He could just pour money into advertisements and buy exposure—that was the fastest and most direct marketing strategy. In his previous life, some terrible, money-grabbing games had used the same tactic—and to his disbelief, it actually worked. The results were astonishing, and countless copycats followed in their wake.
"I'm done! Not playing anymore!" After five consecutive losses, Gengar finally gave up. Zoroark still looked like it wanted another round, while Butler Robert had a thoughtful expression on his face, as if he had just realized something.
"Gengar, what do you think of the game?" Edward asked with a grin. Gengar's face immediately drooped—literally fell to the ground—creating a creepy sight that made everyone else uneasy.
"Gengar's too weak! How am I supposed to play like this? And I'm Gengar! How is that Alakazam stronger than me?" Gengar protested furiously.
As an Apex Gengar, it prided itself on its overwhelming power. Even an Alakazam shouldn't stand a chance against it—but in this game, it couldn't even touch Alakazam. How was that fair?
Edward chuckled helplessly. Still, overall, his game—Pokémon Brawl Royale—was shaping up nicely. Unlike his past life's version of a certain "thriving" card game, the Pokémon world had an abundance of Pokémon to choose from. That meant he didn't have to worry about running out of iconic characters or having obscure ones overshadow the famous ones later on.
"Don't worry," Edward reassured Gengar. "All characters will be balanced at first, each with their own strengths. Later on, we'll naturally release stronger ones."
He already had a plan for Gengar too—he'd simply introduce a Mega Gengar version later on, buffed with increased range and an effect like "whenever you take damage, all players draw a card." That would definitely satisfy Gengar.
Of course, such powerful effects could also be reserved for Legendary Pokémon. They fit the role better anyway—and with flashy visual effects, the game could easily rake in tons of money.
After all, the development costs were low—just server maintenance and operations would take up funds. The rest was pure profit. Edward planned to use the revenue to fund his hospitals. As for officially entering the gaming industry, that was something he wasn't considering for now.
Devon Corporation already had its hands in many industries; it was better to keep a low profile than to flaunt their success.
"Boss, can I appear on one of the cards?" Zoroark asked excitedly. Edward nodded—of course Zoroark could. The only tricky part was the Hisuian form.
Ever since Zoroark's true origins became a topic of debate, many Pokémon researchers had wanted to study it. After all, a Pokémon that had survived since ancient times was a scientific marvel. Naturally, Edward refused every single request. If he hadn't, Zoroark probably wouldn't even be able to use the bathroom without a research team following it around.
Watching Zoroark jump up and down in excitement, Edward smiled faintly. In a way, this was a kind of data collection too—if even Zoroark found the idea so appealing, the public would likely enjoy it even more once it hit the market.
"Zoroark," Edward asked, "if this became a mobile game, what kind of microtransaction system do you think players would actually enjoy—something they'd be happy to spend on without feeling exploited?"
Zoroark perked up immediately. This Pokémon was a seasoned mobile gamer. Edward himself played games too, but he preferred PC titles.
"Boss, you mean… you actually want to make this into a game?" Zoroark asked in surprise. Edward nodded—of course. Why else would he spend so much time designing it? For fun?
Zoroark fell silent, deep in thought. Meanwhile, Edward handed him a document—a monetization plan he'd drafted based on his experiences in his past life. It was a system he himself could accept.
First, there would definitely be a monthly pass, the standard of almost every mobile game. Except for buy-to-play single-player games or ad-supported casual titles, nearly every online mobile game had one. Next came battle passes and season passes.
Beyond that, Edward only included a few in-game bundles, with the main source of profit being skins. These hadn't been designed yet—he only had the concept—but his goal was clear: the skins needed to be so visually stunning that players would instantly want to buy them the moment they saw them.
"Boss… you're saying the game launches with two hundred free pulls? Are you serious or just playing word games?" Zoroark asked skeptically as she read the promo slogan.
As a veteran mobile gamer, she'd seen too many fake promises—games advertising "100 free summons at launch," only for players to find out those were spread across a week or locked behind endless missions.
"Of course it's real," Edward replied calmly. "Two hundred summons right off the bat. Statistically, that's enough to collect almost every Pokémon card available."
He had no intention of squeezing money from the base content. Everyone would have access to the same cards. The real profits would come later—especially from skins. After all, when players saw someone else's animated skin while theirs stood still, the temptation to spend would be irresistible—as long as the prices were fair.
Zoroark swallowed hard. Such generosity was rare! As a player, this was great news—she couldn't wait to dive in and play right now.
"Young Master Edward," Butler Robert spoke up, "Devon Corporation already owns several game development studios, including a few focused on mobile games, and even a dedicated art team."
Edward nodded. Of course he knew that. Since the initial feedback seemed promising, he could proceed to officially bring Pokémon Brawl Royale to the world.
While The Grudge 2 continued its box office domination, a previously unknown game company called Banzai Namco suddenly announced a new dual-platform release—both mobile and PC versions launching simultaneously. Normally, such a release wouldn't attract much attention. After all, there were far too many games these days.
But soon after, a tidal wave of advertising blanketed the internet. Within hours, it was everywhere—no matter what website people visited, they would see it.
"Bro, who can understand this pain? I went to a 'special' site to do some ahem studying, and even there, the Pokémon Brawl Royale ad popped up!"
"Don't even start. I've seen that ad at least ten times today!"
"Seriously, what's this 'Banzai Namco' company? Where do they get all this money?"
"Two hundred free summons at launch? Yeah right, probably locked behind story missions again."
Though the comments were mixed, Edward didn't mind. Controversy was still publicity. In this era, even negative buzz was better than obscurity. Rather than waiting for word-of-mouth to spread slowly, it was better to just burn money on exposure. Sure, it would annoy some people, but it would make the game famous instantly.
And amidst all that heated debate, the game's official launch day finally arrived.
"Hey everyone, it's Asher here!" On the PoképokéTV Network, a well-known streamer had just started his broadcast titled 'Pokémon Brawl Royale First-Day Review!' As soon as his stream went live, viewers poured in.
Asher was one of the platform's most recognized reviewers, known for his honest evaluations of new games. Thanks to the massive advertising campaign, people were dying to see what this game was really like.
"So, as you all know," Asher said cheerfully, "today we're checking out the game that's been all over the internet—Pokémon Brawl Royale! It officially launched this morning at 10 a.m."
He clicked "Download." Fifteen seconds later, the process was complete.
"Eh? That's it? The game's only about two gigabytes? That's surprisingly small… though I'll admit, that also makes me a bit worried about what's inside." Asher chuckled.
[True, every new game I've downloaded this year has been massive—some 'mobile' games are basically PC-sized now!]
[Big files = good games! (Yeah, right)]
[File size doesn't matter. What counts is whether it's fun.]
[Agreed. Fun is what defines a real game.]
The chat scrolled rapidly with comments. As Asher registered an account and entered the game, the tutorial began—and to his surprise, it was… actually interesting.
"Hey, not bad. Let's see what happens after the—wait, what the hell—?!"
The game isn't designed to be overly complex, it's just about making money.
(End of Chapter)