Edward was sitting in his own executive chair, looking at a fresh piece of entertainment news in his hands.
It was the latest hot topic from the entertainment industry, yet the more Edward read, the more confused he became. After all, he really didn't understand—he hadn't shot a movie for such a long time, so why on earth did people in the film and television industry still remember him, and even write such a vicious article attacking him?
This left Edward bewildered, but at the same time, he felt a little annoyed. After all, this particular person was being especially blunt, downright unpleasant, and even had the nerve to insinuate that he bought other people's scripts.
That made Edward feel rather helpless. At most, all he ever wanted was to bring horror films into this world, and it was true that this world didn't have those scripts before.
["Director Edward: From 'Avant-Garde Artist' to 'Vanished From the Mortal World'—A Magical Reality Tale"
The League's film industry has never lacked "eccentric characters," but Director Edward Stone definitely earns a permanent spot on that list. He was once the "avant-garde pioneer" of social media, the "red carpet attention magnet" at film festivals, and the "most controversial new-generation director" according to film critics—though of course, "controversial" here mostly referred to his suffocating aesthetics, bewildering narrative style, and the unshakable confidence with which he treated audiences like idiots.
Yet now, after more than half a year, this man who once seemed eager to post ten updates a day discussing "the philosophy of cinema" has seemingly evaporated from the face of the earth, leaving not a single update behind. This simply begs one to ask: Director Edward, did you go make a movie, or did you go learn how to make movies all over again?
'Avant-Garde' or 'Avant-Crazy'? The Edward Stone Cinematic Universe
Director Edward's "artistic career" began years ago, when his debut film Dead Silence became famous overnight due to its "subversive narrative structure" and its so-called "deepest exploration of human nature" (quoted from critics). Of course, the average viewer's reaction after watching was: "What did I just watch? Why are there so many jump scares right in my face?"
But Director Edward didn't care. In his eyes, audiences failing to understand was precisely what made art noble. After that, his style grew more and more obsessed with in-your-face horror. Later works like One Missed Call and The Grudge became representative summaries of Edward's approach. Yet as if wanting to prove his own invincibility, he even made films like Buried and The Truman Show. But I strongly doubt whether these films were actually written or directed by Edward himself, because their styles simply don't match his life experiences at all.
Is Edward deliberately mystifying himself, or merely suffering for no reason?
This can be seen clearly from later works such as The Wicked Ghost and Tomie: Unlimited. These movies share one common trait: you can't understand them, you don't want to watch them, and if you do watch them, you feel like cursing someone.
But Director Edward paid no mind, because he understood one truth better than anyone—
In the age of social media, controversy is traffic.
As long as someone curses him, he wins.
A "Busy" Director and His Mysterious Disappearance
At his peak, Director Edward's Weibo updated almost daily. Posts included gems like:
"Dead Silence wrapped, please look forward to it,"
"Reviewing new industry trends from an advertising professional's point of view,"
"My next film is already in planning, and it will completely redefine cinema!"
These outrageous claims were constant. Though to be fair, we could tell that at least some of these posts were written by his PR team, so Director Edward does deserve a bit of pity.
However, a post from half a year ago became his "final message":
"I'll be taking a break for a while."
Since then, he vanished as if kidnapped by extraterrestrial Pokémon—no shadow, no trace.
The funny thing is, even while he was supposedly "retreating," his company still released several high-quality works. None bore Edward's name. Meanwhile, his social media accounts remained frozen. Fans went from waiting eagerly, to growing suspicious, to finally giving up completely. The whole process resembled a dark comedy, except the protagonist was Edward himself.
III. "No Movies to Shoot," So He Plays Dead? Edward's 'Artist-Style Slacking'
Edward's disappearance was crystal clear to insiders: he wasn't "resting"—he simply had nothing left to shoot. After all, making a bad movie is easy; making a good one is hard. Stirring up hype is easy; submitting a film is hard.
Previously, Edward relied on the charitable box office run of The Grudge, which somehow became the highest-grossing horror film in history. Edward thus believed he had already accumulated enough merit to waste freely, no need to keep making movies, because doing so would only expose his real skill level.
Thus, Director Edward chose to "play dead." After all, admitting he couldn't make movies anymore would be humiliating. Disappearing and letting time wash everything away seemed smarter. Maybe in a few years, he could return with a "ten years of polishing one sword" gimmick and scam another wave of fans.
'Dead End' or 'Nothing Left But Gimmicks'?
Edward's "artistic career" perfectly illustrates one truth: in the film industry, hype matters more than skill. As long as you know how to create buzz, package yourself, and buy a few decent scripts, you can make a name for yourself. But hype works once or twice—do it too many times, and people stop being fools.
Now, his name has vanished from every film festival schedule. His company's official website only displays a "page updating" notice. And his social media… well, the last update is still from half a year ago: "Taking a break." Perhaps Director Edward is hiding in some corner right now, eating luxurious steak while contemplating "the true meaning of cinema."
Or maybe he's truly abandoned filmmaking, which would actually be a blessing for the industry. We've suffered enough from idiot directors like him, with their ridiculous in-your-face horror jump scares and shameless bragging about being "definers of horror film aesthetics."
No matter what, I fully support Director Edward leaving this industry forever. After all, the film industry needs peace, not chaos like a noisy marketplace.]
"Who even is this guy? Do I know him?" Edward couldn't hold back anymore and asked Zoroark beside him. Hearing his question, Zoroark unusually paused for a moment before giving a hesitant answer.
Listening to Zoroark's explanation, Edward froze for a second, because only now did he realize that this newly-emerged, aggressively hostile critic was actually a popular online reviewer. Her name was something like "Miya-Is-Watching-You."
She rose to fame by making movie-rant content, and at the right time boosted her popularity further with her beauty, riding the fast lane of internet celebrity culture. Though it was said she was very professional and rarely smiled, even the wealthy patrons who spent heavily in her livestream couldn't get a chance to meet her. She called herself a "very conservative" woman.
Edward's mouth twitched.
What was wrong with these people?
He didn't even know who she was, yet she attacked him relentlessly. Normally, Edward wouldn't care about generic insults. As a public figure, it's impossible not to be criticized. As long as it wasn't malicious to the point of being outright nauseating defamation, he wouldn't bother.
But he hated people who deliberately smeared him to attract clicks and profit off disgusting behavior. Such people were too low, crossing the bottom line of what Edward could tolerate. Naturally, he had his own way of handling such situations.
"Tell legal to sue her. Is she insane? What did I even do? I haven't made a movie in ages, yet I still get dragged out and attacked. Are these people out of their minds?"
Edward was extremely displeased. He hadn't done anything wrong—nothing at all. So, he suspected this person must have been paid by another company to smear him and force him out of the industry entirely. But Edward couldn't be bothered to deal with such lunatics personally. Someone of his stature replying even once would only bring her traffic. So, the best option was to let the legal department handle it.
Then he added another instruction, use Devon Corporation's legal team. Ghost Company's legal team was fine, yes, but in terms of salary and professional level, Devon's team was on another level entirely.
…
The high-end apartment looked at first glance like a cute fairytale wonderland. The walls were covered with soft, pastel cartoon murals, pink curtains danced lightly in the breeze, and delicate pendant lights resembled magical lanterns from storybooks. In the spacious living room sat a white leather sofa set, cushioned with brightly colored pillows. A smooth marble coffee table stood cool and polished, decorated with stylish ornaments and a bouquet of fresh flowers.
Yet all this warmth and glamour couldn't hide one thing—the emptiness.
Though every piece of furniture was perfectly placed, there were no signs of life.
No casually set-down books.
No family photos.
No personal collections.
Everything was neat to the point of sterility, more like a showroom than a home. In one corner, an expensive audio system sat silently, like it was sighing at the absence of music or laughter.
Every object in the room appeared brand new, almost untouched. Golden decorative frames shimmered under the lights but reflected no hint of homeliness. The carpet held no footprints of children nor trace of pets. Everything was preserved in perfect condition, a display rather than a place of living.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling window, the neon lights of the city glittered, contrasting sharply with the stillness inside. The gentle night breeze swayed the curtains and occasionally brought traces of street noise, but none of it could penetrate the heavy door or fill the emptiness of the apartment. Wealth was everywhere but love was nowhere. This place had no warmth, no life. Only cold material beauty.
And yet, this was Miya's home.
When Miya suddenly received the lawyer's letter, her heart seized. Her face turned pale instantly. Her hands trembled as she picked it up, her eyes locked onto the printed words as if they contained some indescribable terror. Her breathing grew rapid, choked with sob-like gasps like a weeping ghost. Her gaze turned unfocused and fearful, desperately searching for a shred of hope—but everywhere she looked, she ran into walls of dread.
She blinked repeatedly, as if trying to escape the nightmare in front of her, but each blink only deepened her despair. Her lips quivered, unable to utter a sound, suffocated by panic. Her body shook slightly, as though she were threatened by something unspeakably horrible. She didn't dare move, fearing even the slightest gesture would bring catastrophe. In this moment, she was trapped in the abyss of terror with no path to escape.
"No… no… this isn't right. According to logic, according to novels and movies shouldn't Director Edward think I'm an interesting woman? In all those stories, this is how it goes! Then I would attract his admiration, show my talent, get married into wealth, become a rich man's wife. So why? Why is he ignoring me and suing me instead?" Miya bit her finger, staring at the lawyer's letter in horror.
It was from Devon Corporation's legal department.
Edward was serious.
He seriously intended to send her to prison.
The thought of her youth, her sponsorships, her brand contracts, and the immense breach penalties behind them all suddenly crashed onto her chest. Miya felt her whole body turn weak, suffocated.
This shouldn't be happening. She had studied Edward for some time, convinced he was the perfect golden husband candidate. Edward was extremely rich and kind. A man like him should have seen countless types of women. Someone as special and unconventional as her, shouldn't he find her interesting? Shouldn't it follow the usual tyrant-CEO romantic plot?
First, he forcefully takes interest.
Then she plays hard to get.
Then she runs, he chases, and finally he embraces her tightly and wins her over.
Miya had planned this entire arc meticulously, preparing a complete set of expectations.
But Edward…
didn't follow the script.
"I'm doomed… doomed…" Miya panicked like an ant on a hot pan, wanting to resist yet unable to. Even deleting the post and apologizing was useless, Edward's legal team had already taken screenshots and prepared a full chain of evidence. She couldn't even meet Edward face-to-face before being sent to court. Due to defamation and because Edward held a Medal of Valor, she received the maximum penalty:
Seven years in prison, two years of probation.
Though the sentence didn't look that heavy on paper, the fact that such charges resulted in such a verdict was already beyond absurd.
(End of Chapter)