After deciding to film The Truman Show, Ghost Films quickly began moving into action. The authorization from the League was obtained at an astonishingly fast speed. In fact, when Edward personally went to collect the authorization, he even felt a bit uncomfortable all over. The reason was simple—the look in the staff member's eyes was far too resentful.
"Mr. Edward, you've finally agreed to shoot a film in Rustboro City, huh?"
That was what the League's person-in-charge said, and even the staff repeated those same words, making Edward feel rather awkward. But thinking carefully, he remembered that he had indeed shot quite a few works in Rustboro City already. What's more, Rustboro had practically turned Tom and Jerry into a municipal project by now.
Of course, the people there still believed that the more the merrier. For them, no matter how developed Rustboro City's economy was, it could never be developed enough.
So, Edward did not say much more on the matter.
"Boss, lately there's been another large group of people wandering back and forth around our company," Zoroark said as it stood beside Edward. It held a cup of milk tea that Edward had just bought, speaking with a helpless tone.
"I know. That kind of thing can't be avoided," Edward replied calmly. After all, in the Pokémon League, acting was considered a rather lucrative profession. Of course, that only applied to actors with fame. For extras or background performers, most of them could only scrape together enough to survive.
The more time one invested, the harder it became to give up. The more unwilling one was to give up, the more time one would invest. And so, an endless vicious cycle was formed, with the sunk cost only growing heavier.
Narrowing his eyes, Edward sipped from his milk tea. Personally, he was quite fond of this method of brewing—using large Moomoo Milk mixed with tea leaves.
"Boss, what I meant is—shouldn't we strengthen our company's security team a bit?" Zoroark asked again. It truly believed the security ought to be tightened. After all, the streets around Ghost Films were now swarmed with people performing, showing off their acting, juggling, running little fruit stalls—all crowded nearby in the hope that Edward might notice them and make them famous overnight.
"Huh? Don't we already have two security teams?" Edward blinked in surprise. Two teams weren't enough? That was outrageous. Compared to the crowd outside the Prayer Wall Foundation, he felt that his company actually wasn't all that bad.
Outside the Charity Foundation, the scene was far worse. People knelt, raised placards, or even lay with sick patients at the entrance. All sorts of desperate souls were there.
Edward knew well enough—these people had nowhere else to turn, which was why they came. But the foundation's long-term operation relied on extremely strict rules. As heartless as it looked, only harsh regulations could guarantee fairness. If they loosened up even a little, the entire trust system would collapse, and then the number of desperate people kneeling outside would only multiply.
"Right… I almost forgot." Zoroark suddenly realized. Indeed, Edward had already hired a professional security team for the company. They were highly competent, but because they usually worked out of sight, one could easily forget their presence. If not for the weekly reports they submitted, Zoroark itself might have forgotten they existed.
Edward shrugged and took another sip of milk tea. His gaze drifted across two very attractive young women passing by, and the corner of his lips twitched.
"Let's go. We've been spotted."
He stood up and left with Zoroark. Those two young women had already circled around the milk tea shop twice, each time deliberately displaying their figures and faces. Passing once might be coincidence, but twice was suspicious. And Edward had noticed their eyes on him—clearly, they were trying to get his attention.
Edward sighed in resignation. Becoming a famous director came with these minor nuisances. For ordinary people, a director's daily life and photos didn't matter—audiences only cared about movies. But for actors, it was different.
Actors remembered directors, especially those who had the power to promote newcomers. If a director had a reputation for giving rookies a chance, countless fresh actors would try to get into their line of sight. It might sound exaggerated, but there were always people willing to go that far. The young actors loitering near Ghost Films were exactly like that.
Zoroark trotted after Edward as he yawned and climbed into the car. Today he planned to visit his new amusement park. Earlier that morning, Zoroark had already reported the park's progress: construction was finished, and all that remained was for Edward to cut the ribbon.
Edward himself thought the ribbon-cutting ceremony was unnecessary. After all, the park's main feature was that it had no human employees—only Ghost-type Pokémon staffed the entire place. In fact, he thought it would be better to let a Ghost Pokémon cut the ribbon, say, Mismagius for example.
But Secretary Kennedy insisted it would be better for Edward to do it himself, even listing a whole page of reasons. Hearing them had given Edward a headache, but he didn't argue. If it benefited the park, then so be it. At least now he understood his father's helpless sighs whenever facing Kennedy.
Truly, Secretary Kennedy was the ultimate "secretary."
"Boss, are you planning to promote this new amusement park?" Zoroark asked while driving. Edward leaned his chin against his hand, watching the scenery outside as the car glided smoothly down the League's highway.
"Yeah, let's promote it a bit. I'll just slot it into The Truman Show." Edward replied calmly. The amusement park was, after all, where he arranged jobs for many Ghost Pokémon. Their employment also allowed his theaters to qualify for certain subsidies, which was quite a good deal.
"Understood, boss. But this time, we've got quite a lot of advertisers." Zoroark added. Edward simply nodded.
Ever since he made Dead Silence, his projects attracted plenty of advertisers. But product placement was an art—done well, it made advertisers overjoyed; done poorly, it annoyed audiences. Thankfully, The Truman Show was already structured like a massive reality show, so awkward product placements would only enhance its absurdity. It was, in fact, the perfect fit.
Chatting along the way, Edward finally saw the amusement park. At the moment, its gates were still closed, the grounds empty. A few cars occasionally stopped outside, but upon seeing the "Not Yet Open" sign, they simply drove off.
"This location is excellent. Secretary Kennedy's eye for planning really is top-tier." Edward praised as he noticed how many cars passed. From his vantage point, he could see a huge roller coaster towering above the park, and behind it a Ferris wheel. Instantly, anyone could tell it was an amusement park. Built right along a major road and not too far from the city, it was bound to draw heavy foot traffic.
But whether they could keep customers coming back would depend on the park's own strength. After all, most rides were similar from park to park. Ghost staff might be unique, but it still needed proper hype and buzz.
"Maybe the haunted house could be the breakthrough?" Edward considered. Haunted houses were staples of theme parks. But most modern ones only offered cheap jump scares or lazy sightseeing tours—not very frightening at all.
His haunted house, however, would be different.
He remembered that one of his unclaimed rewards had to be collected inside the haunted house. Curious, he wondered who or what it might be. If he could get Kayako from The Grudge, the attraction would instantly skyrocket in popularity.
But the system's rewards were randomized, which made Edward uneasy. His luck had never been good.
Still, he got out of the car. Mismagius soon appeared, leading a group of excited Ghost Pokémon. Edward smiled and greeted them. The Ghost-types looked ecstatic, even impatient.
They hadn't scared people in a long time!
"Don't worry. Tomorrow, we open," Edward reassured them. Originally, he had thought of letting his employees come for team-building as a benefit, but with everyone busy preparing The Truman Show, he had scrapped the idea.
Mismagius nodded happily, then turned a stern gaze upon its rowdy companions. Immediately, the noisy Ghost-types fell silent and obediently filed back. Edward was impressed. This Mismagius truly carried a kingly air. If it kept developing this way, could it one day become an Apex Pokémon?
Apex were rulers of their domains—recognized as the strongest of the strong, enjoying countless benefits and immense power. Yet strangely, not all regions produced Totem Pokémon, and the League itself had done little research into how they formed.
Setting that aside, Edward entered the haunted house and claimed his pending reward.
[Your information has attracted the attention of many evil spirits. They begin competing for your recruitment notice.]
[A special evil spirit has emerged victorious.]
Edward blinked. This was the first time he had seen such a flood of messages. Who exactly had he recruited this time?
[Tomie has become your employee.]
The instant the name appeared, a silver-bell laugh echoed. From the shadows, a beautiful woman emerged, smiling as she fixed her gaze on Edward.
"Tomie?" he muttered, instantly recognizing her.
Tomie Kawakami—an impossibly beautiful girl with an otherworldly allure. Nearly every man who saw her would become obsessed, driven mad with desire to possess her, often to the point of killing her. But Tomie never truly died. No matter how her body was dismembered, she would regenerate, multiplying endlessly, with each fragment growing into a new Tomie. She possessed a range of terrifying abilities.
Her most iconic power was splitting—any cell from her body could become a new Tomie. Even transplanting a strand of her hair would eventually overwrite the host, turning them into Tomie as well.
"Boss~ I'm so happy to be working for you," Tomie said with a dazzling smile. Edward nodded politely. She was indeed stunning, but he had no desire to possess her.
In fact, he wondered if she was even suitable for haunted house work, since her abilities often required time to manifest.
[Tomie Kawakami: This evil spirit is a special vessel. While employed in your haunted house, the attraction will automatically generate scenarios such as "Hanging Balloons," "Ancestor Centipede," and "Cave Call," giving guests a one-hundred-percent authentic horror experience. Visitors will return to normal upon leaving.]
Edward froze. So, she was a special vessel? He knew all of these references.
"Hanging Balloons" was especially terrifying—balloons that automatically hunted people, slipping nooses around their necks. Worse, the balloons themselves had human awareness, and if destroyed, the chosen victim would also die.
The "Ancestor Centipede" he recalled vaguely—it involved family patriarchs with preserved heads attaching themselves centipede-like to descendants. Disturbingly grotesque.
As for the "Cave Call," he didn't remember it clearly, but all of these were from Junji Ito's works.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Tomie." Edward forced a polite smile. She giggled lightly.
"So then, Boss, when will our first visitors arrive? I've been looking forward to this for so long~" she asked playfully. Edward's lips twitched. Without her abilities, she could have been mistaken for an adorable girl.
But then, as he thought this, the Tomie before him suddenly split. A brand-new head emerged right beside her own, its eyes staring directly at Edward—almost as if it were speaking to him.
At that moment, Edward changed his mind. For ordinary people, just witnessing this scene alone would be enough to break them.
(End of Chapter)
Tomie 1998 horror film