"…Mr. Giovanni, is there anything wrong with the script?" Edward asked, noticing that Giovanni seemed somewhat absentminded, as if deep in thought.
"There's nothing wrong with it. I accept," Giovanni replied politely. He actually found the script Edward had given him to be quite compelling. The tone was distinct, and it suited his personality well.
But what intrigued Giovanni the most was the character Moriarty. He found the role fascinating—so much so that it felt tailor-made for him.
A brilliant intellect who hides behind a perfect facade, yet rules the underworld in secret—a supervillain through and through. For Giovanni, it was almost like looking into a mirror. It was as if Moriarty had been written for him.
"May I ask what inspired you to create the character of Moriarty?" Giovanni asked, choosing to proceed with caution. After all, he couldn't help but notice just how many similarities there were between himself and the role.
"I just thought it made sense. As Sherlock Holmes' ultimate adversary, Moriarty had to be a criminal mastermind, someone who could match Holmes in intellect," Edward replied with a calm smile. He had sensed Giovanni's suspicion, but his answer remained light and casual. And it was true—when he first created Moriarty, Giovanni wasn't even part of the project yet.
Giovanni found the explanation reasonable and let go of his doubts. He started pondering how best to portray the role. He wasn't interested in other films or shows—only Sherlock Holmes was worthy of his involvement.
Edward didn't concern himself with Giovanni's internal deliberations. He was still busy coordinating the production schedule. After all, Season 2 of Sherlock Holmes had generated a huge buzz online, and everyone was watching to see whether it could maintain the high standard set by Season 1.
"Boss, there's some online chatter that might negatively affect Sherlock Holmes Season 2. Should we have the PR team step in?" Shizuka walked up briskly and handed him a document.
Edward glanced through the file.
With the announcement of Season 2's filming, and his unconventional casting methods—plus the large number of cast members—public debate had exploded online.
People were arguing:
Was Edward just using publicity stunts? Or was he genuinely trying to make a great film?
All kinds of marketing accounts and social media bloggers smelled blood in the water and swarmed like sharks. Some published outrageous hot takes; others simply reposted sensationalized comments, using clickbait headlines to stir things up.
The online discourse had become chaotic.
Everyone was talking about Sherlock Holmes Season 2. Clear camps had formed: supporters and skeptics. Then there were the trolls, clout-chasers, and "for-fun" commentators thrown into the mix. It was a mess.
Some people were already celebrating the new season like it was a guaranteed hit—even though filming hadn't even started. They praised it as the best Pokémon League tv series of the year, claiming it would surpass not only Season 1, but every other show the League had ever produced.
They hyped it up outrageously while trashing any dissenters, even those with neutral views. The internet was a battlefield, and Sherlock Holmes 2 was at the center of it.
But Edward didn't feel especially thrilled.
Even though Porygon species were in charge of monitoring the Pokémon world's network systems, there were always loopholes. Trolls, bots, and shill accounts were a constant presence. It was getting harder and harder to tell truth from lies.
Netizens were easily manipulated—turned into tools for others' agendas.
And nowadays, the most efficient way to slander something was to pose as an extreme, overzealous fan.
By aggressively attacking anyone who didn't praise the subject, you could turn neutral or indifferent bystanders into haters. And it worked frighteningly well.
In his previous life, this kind of manipulation had happened to many popular shows. Whether they were driven by paid trolls, bored troublemakers, or even real fans who didn't know better, the result was the same: massive negative backlash caused by overhype and toxic fandom.
The internet was a deep, murky place.
That was why Edward rarely participated in online debates.
Still, now that his own project was being targeted by such tactics, he began to consider his options.
He quickly came up with a solution:
He would release an official statement online—but not until after tonight's premiere episode of the variety show aired.
A standalone statement would be weak on its own. But once viewers had seen the actual performances, the statement would be much more convincing.
He had already reviewed the recording of the first episode and was quite satisfied with the result.
The actors' performances were powerful and expressive, which brought a sense of comfort and satisfaction to Edward. They became the characters they played.
That might sound like a basic requirement in show business, but in reality, it was rare. Without experienced actors, most performances just felt awkward.
"Prepare a public statement. Post it tonight after the first episode airs… By the way, how's Monica's project going?" Edward asked, pausing as he worked through the documents in front of him.
"Miss Monica's film has completed principal filming. It's now in post-production," Shizuka replied promptly. Then she handed him a cup of fruit tea.
Edward blinked in surprise, then smiled as he accepted it.
"Thanks," he said softly.
(End of Chapter)