"Hey, don't you guys feel like something about this movie is… off?"
A middle-aged uncle sitting nearby rubbed his chin thoughtfully, raising a question that had been nagging at him.
After watching the film, he couldn't shake off the strange sensation it left behind. It was something that only people who watched a lot of movies would sense—a kind of instinct, hard to describe, but definitely there.
The movie wasn't as simple as it seemed on the surface. There was something buried within it, some kind of deeper idea or subtext. The uncle had done his research beforehand—he knew that the director of RULE#1 was famous for his social commentary and dark storytelling.
The man was known for hiding meaning and embedding metaphors in his films. For this one to be completely straightforward? Impossible.
"I think so too," Corey joined in. "If we follow the movie's logic, these evil spirits can possess people through physical contact, right? And after possession, they behave just like normal humans. As long as they want to, they can stay in that body indefinitely. So by that logic…"
"The higher-ups—none of them should have escaped," said the team leader, his tone grave. The others nodded in agreement. Though the film never stated it outright, that interpretation made perfect sense.
Occupying the bodies of powerful or wealthy people—was that really so difficult? It might look difficult, but anyone who understood how the world worked knew that it really wasn't.
Corey remembered a theory he'd once read—that through just six degrees of separation, anyone in the world could be connected. It was a fascinating idea.
Imagine, he thought, that you held in your hands a super-contagious virus, one that infected everyone you came into contact with. You only knew six people. Could that virus still spread to the entire world? Theoretically, yes—because through those six people, you could reach everyone.
Human connections are incredibly complex. Each person branches out to countless others. In such an interconnected web of relationships, six steps are all it takes to reach anyone in the world. And in the age of the internet, those connections only deepen and widen. Unless someone was completely isolated from birth—living alone in the wilderness, away from all civilization—everyone is part of that network.
"So based on that theory," Corey said seriously, "if a ghost like Siu-man wanted to live a good life, there's no reason he wouldn't take over the body of someone rich or powerful."
If it were him, he admitted inwardly, he'd do the same. Why slog through a miserable day job when he could possess someone with billions in the bank and spend his days in comfort? Who wouldn't choose that kind of life?
If Corey had Siu-man's ability, the first thing he'd do would be to possess his team leader—then use that connection to get close to even higher-ranking people. Or maybe he'd go straight for Zoroark, and through that, possess Edward himself. Imagine enjoying life as the son of a top-tier family—that would be the dream!
Even possessing someone like the League Chairman wouldn't be impossible. Make some headlines, end up hospitalized, and when the chairman comes to shake your hand—bam, body swapped in an instant. In truth, it wouldn't be that hard to seize control of those at the top. The real challenge was doing it without being discovered. Once people realized evil spirits existed, defenses would skyrocket, and everything would get complicated.
And Corey liked to think of himself as someone with a bit of a moral compass. Yet even he couldn't deny he'd be tempted by such power. If that was the case, then what about those ghosts in the movie—creatures without any morals or restraint? Their actions would likely be far, far worse.
"I noticed something at the end," the uncle suddenly added. "When the police chief was interrogating Lee Kwok-keung, the coffee cup on the chief's desk was knocked over, and there were coffee stains on his clothes."
"You mean Lee Kwok-keung—the one possessed by Siu-man—tried to possess the chief too, but failed?" Corey asked, catching his colleague's meaning.
"No," the team leader replied, rubbing his temples. "It's more likely that Lee Kwok-keung tried to possess him, but the chief had already been possessed. Didn't you notice how he's always eating whenever he appears? And they never show his full face."
Everyone fell silent, exchanging uneasy looks. The thought itself was chilling.
If Siu-man could jump from one body to another so freely, and no one could stop him… then what kind of world would that be? A world swallowed by darkness, with no light in sight.
After all, if humanity's entire upper class had already been taken over by these spirits, and there was no way to distinguish them from normal people… the only solution would be to destroy them completely. That thought alone was despair-inducing.
And to make matters worse, this movie was a reverse horror film. Normally, horror movies ended with good triumphing over evil—or even if evil won, justice still managed to assert itself somehow. But in RULE#1, it was the opposite. The protagonist lost. He became a vessel for the evil spirit. Even the powerful figures of the world were shown to be overtaken. Ordinary people could only continue living in ignorance.
"Hiss… then what rating are we giving this one?" Corey asked, his face turning complicated. They couldn't take the discussion much further—if they did, the League's censorship department might just come knocking on their door.
"I think… it could be rated for all ages," said the team leader after some thought. "It's not that scary, really. A few horror scenes, but nothing too extreme."
Everyone knew what she meant. There were some topics you could hint at—but some you definitely couldn't say out loud, unless you wanted trouble.
The next day, when Edward showed up to work with dark circles under his eyes, Zoroark had already submitted the film's final rating.
"All ages?" Edward raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly. "Well, that's good. Guess that 'Medal of Valor' really came in handy."
In the past, even if RULE#1 wasn't especially frightening, it would have been rated ten and up, just for having horror elements. But now that Edward had that prestigious medal, those little problems became much easier to deal with.
Still, he didn't really care. An all-ages rating didn't mean kids would actually go see it. Maybe a few would—but most wouldn't. Sensible parents wouldn't bring their children to horror or suspense films anyway. Kids were better off watching cartoons. Even comedies were risky nowadays, what with all the inappropriate jokes sneaking in.
Edward recalled hearing about a parent who once brought their kid to see Alien of all movies. The poor child had cried hysterically, and instead of blaming themselves, the parent blamed the theater and the distributor. Some people just never reflect on their own mistakes—they always think it's someone else's fault.
"Boss, how did you even get the Medal of Valor?" Zoroark asked curiously. The medal was legendary—Edward knew it too, thanks to a war-themed video game. In that game, earning the Medal of Valor was the ultimate achievement. It halved all research costs and times, and even granted three free ten-draws per day—unbelievably powerful.
There were other perks too—special privileges in speech and influence. Zoroark had coveted it for ages. But winning it in the game required first place in a global championship—a near-impossible feat, since the resources you needed to get there far outweighed the rewards.
"The League made it public, didn't they?" Edward said with a grin. "I made some significant contributions during the defense of the Hoenn region."
That was the official version, at least. The truth—that he'd shattered a meteor—wasn't something he intended to advertise. It would only bring unnecessary attention.
"Ah, so it's classified," Zoroark nodded knowingly. Edward simply smiled and didn't deny it. He wasn't fond of complications, and leaking confidential information sounded like a headache.
After all, the Medal of Valor wasn't something easily earned. While the League wouldn't punish him for revealing details, it could still cause him trouble—and Edward hated trouble.
He sat down at his desk, flipping through a stack of documents, scratching his head.
"Kanto wants us to go film Sherlock Holmes there?" he murmured, puzzled.
Zoroark quickly stepped forward to explain. "Yes, boss. The Kanto region wants to invite us to film Sherlock Holmes as a way to promote tourism. For every city we film in, they'll give us a plot of prime land for free—to build hospitals."
Edward's eyes lit up. So, his recent hospital project had caught their attention, huh? Well, that wasn't surprising—he hadn't exactly been subtle about it. The whole idea had been part of his charity plan from the start, a way to build goodwill and boost his reputation. Maybe a bit self-serving, sure—but still good work.
"One prime land parcel per city?" Edward said, intrigued. Land prices varied wildly, after all—suburban land was one thing, but downtown plots were priceless. To get both ad revenue and free city-center land from filming? That was a massive win.
A single prime lot in a major city could cost a fortune. Saving that much money would let him build hospitals faster and cheaper.
Even though the land was restricted to medical use, Edward didn't mind. He'd never planned to use it for anything else. He could easily exploit this policy to get rich—but that wasn't who he was. It would go against his principles.
"Sherlock Holmes 3, huh?" he mused. That was doable. He already had plenty of storylines in mind—if the books and movies ran out, he could even borrow from Detective Conan or other classic mystery cases.
And Sherlock Holmes movies always attracted tons of sponsorship deals. Being set in modern cities meant endless opportunities for product placement—and Edward had the knack for making it feel natural, unlike some clumsy ads that made audiences cringe.
"Speaking of which, what's Daniel been up to lately?" Edward suddenly asked, thinking of his company's top actor.
Since signing with Edward's studio, Daniel had behaved impeccably—no scandals, no rumors. A model celebrity.
"Daniel?" Zoroark flipped through her notebook. "Let's see… He's currently filming a movie called Stars of the Night, a professional drama about an electrician."
Edward raised an eyebrow. A movie about an electrician? That probably wouldn't make much money. But knowing Daniel's personality—a perfectionist with strong artistic goals—he must have his reasons. Maybe he wanted to refine his acting.
"How long is his current schedule?" Edward asked. He was already planning to shoot Sherlock Holmes 3 entirely in Kanto, ideally featuring every major city—collecting prime real estate from each. Those lands would become his affordable charity hospitals.
Of course, filming in every city wasn't realistic, so he'd focus on the ones with the highest land values.
But he needed Daniel for the project—after all, Daniel was the face of Sherlock Holmes now. Fans couldn't imagine anyone else in the role. Even the merchandise used Daniel's likeness.
"Boss, about three more months," Zoroark replied. Edward nodded. Perfect. By then, The Grudge 2 would be finished in theaters, and he could begin SherlockHolmes 3 production. As for Tomie: Unlimited, that would come afterward.
After giving Zoroark some final instructions—mainly to contact Daniel later and reserve his schedule—Edward packed up his things and left the office.
It had been a while since he'd visited the welfare orphanage. He decided to stop by and see Headmistress Lilian and the Pokémon there.
(End of Chapter)