"I didn't expect there to actually be a James Wan in this world," Edward muttered, his expression slightly strange.
Although the man's name here was Thomas Ward, Edward could still recognize him at a glance — this was unmistakably that very same James Wan. The only difference was that in this world, Thomas was merely an ordinary film director, spending his spare time writing a few screenplays.
But in this era, it was exceedingly difficult for new directors and screenwriters to make a name for themselves.
Every year, countless graduates poured out of film academies, and when you added in all the celebrity offspring and second-generation directors, the entertainment industry had become a place where only "inheritors" seemed qualified to rise.
There were plenty of celebrity children who were utterly unfit for stardom, yet their parents still held them up onto the shining thrones that millions of ordinary people could only dream of reaching.
However, Edward had no particular objections to this phenomenon. He understood all too well that the youth who once slew dragons would, in time, become the dragon themselves.
Nowadays, expecting parents not to usher their children into comfortable circles, not to help them accumulate connections, not to pave the way for them — was about as realistic as praying for the sun to rise from the west. It was simply impossible. Human beings are selfish by nature. No parent would willingly refuse to pave the road for their own child.
Even those who loudly complained about such nepotism today, when their own children came to them one day, desperate for a path forward — only a rare few would truly stay true to their ideals and give other young people a chance instead.
Would Thomas, when faced with such circumstances in the future, really be able to yield opportunities to others rather than usher his own child into the film industry?
That, Edward doubted.
So, he said nothing more about it. As long as human relationships and social obligations existed in this world, such things could never truly be avoided.
Still, Thomas's luck was rather good, at the very least, he had met Edward. Had it been another company, they might never have dared to take a gamble on a director who had never filmed a movie before. Even with Kirk's recommendation, Kirk himself had already faded from the public eye; how much influence could he still have?
And Thomas wasn't well known either. The only thing he'd ever filmed was a commercial for a small umbrella brand — not even a major one. Otherwise, he could have built his way up from advertising step by step.
"Well, guess I've stumbled upon a bargain," Edward said with a smile, reaching down to stroke Q's fluffy head. The little Pokémon nuzzled against Edward's palm, glanced around curiously, then lay down on the table again, continuing to watch videos.
Edward didn't bother to stop him. He had already instructed Zoroark to contact Thomas and handle the matter quickly. Once everything was arranged, Thomas could begin filming The Conjuring.
Edward himself, however, had no plans to participate in the production directly. He already had far too many responsibilities that his schedule was packed every day and he genuinely didn't have the time to micromanage such things. Besides, he still had The Grudge 3 in production, which hadn't yet been completed.
"Phew, there's no real rush for The Grudge 3," Edward murmured as he leaned back in his chair, gazing at the darkening sky outside with a thoughtful look in his eyes.
The production of The Grudge 3 would be a lengthy process after all, it was meant to serve as the grand finale of the Grudge series. Edward wanted this film to shine with something unique under his direction. As he looked at the script in his hands, he found himself debating whether he should revise it one more time.
He didn't want to wait until filming was finished and the movie had already premiered only to realize that there were still unresolved plot points. That would be a nightmare. So, he decided it would be better to settle those issues now.
"Let's see… Kayako's backstory, the exposition, the matter of her reincarnation…" Edward flipped through the notes in front of him, his mind turning over the details.
One question had always bothered audiences: why, in The Grudge, did the female protagonist not abandon the reincarnated Kayako? It had been one of the most hotly debated points.
After all, Kayako's curse and unnatural behavior were evident long before the end. Logically speaking, most people assumed that the female lead would give up raising her, or that even if she continued to do so, it must have been because of Kayako's supernatural influence — which eventually led to her downfall. But in the ending, the protagonist's behavior instead conveyed something that looked like motherly affection, which confused and even angered many viewers.
It became a common point of criticism — why would a woman show maternal love toward the very being responsible for her family's destruction?
In that scene, the actress playing Kayako's reincarnation had her face hidden beneath a curtain of hair, making it impossible to read her expression. Yet she did glance back at her human "mother" after pushing her down before turning and walking away.
That brief moment made it clear that Kayako felt little to no genuine attachment. The female lead's so-called motherly affection was like winking at a blind man — utterly meaningless.
"Maybe I could add a scene where the protagonist visits Kayako's sister and learns about her tragic past so she feels pity instead?" Edward considered. But that idea barely lasted a moment before he dismissed it. No, that would just make the protagonist seem even more like a saint. It wouldn't feel grounded.
Sometimes, the less you explain, the better. Leaving things ambiguous would make the audience think for themselves and keep the mystery alive — while also avoiding making the heroine appear overly self-righteous.
"Let's make it that the female lead is controlled by Kayako, forced to raise her and in the process, tries to redeem her. That could work." Edward nodded in satisfaction.
After all, people often did strange things: some tried to lure good women into depravity, while others tried to redeem those who had already fallen — it was a similar kind of twisted psychology.
With his decision made, Edward began preparations for The Grudge 3's production. He had been looking forward to this movie for a long time, and once it was finished, he planned to move on to the Saw series, letting audiences experience a different kind of thrill altogether.
Just as Edward was clearing off his desk to start working on revisions and early production planning, he noticed Q lying atop a stack of documents. Smiling, Edward picked them up, intending to file them away — until a title on one of the pages caught his eye:
[Application for Development of a Triple-A Game.]
The bold headline immediately drew Edward's attention. Opening it, he discovered it was a formal request — the same company that had developed Three Kingdoms Clash now wanted to attempt making a Triple-A title. That piqued Edward's curiosity.
Of course, this world also had Triple-A games. Game consoles existed here too, and oddly enough, console gaming was even more popular than PC gaming. The computer game industry was relatively underdeveloped — but Edward had never really focused on that field.
His main area had always been film. His involvement in gaming was limited to the creation of Pokémon Brawl Royale, which was mostly a side project designed to generate profit and fund his other creative ventures.
He hadn't expected that small studio to harbor such grand ambitions.
Still, the idea of developing a Triple-A game stirred something within him. As a former gamer himself in his previous life, how could Edward not feel the urge to create his own large-scale masterpiece?
His mind immediately recalled the great titles of his past life — the Assassin's Creed series, though the latest installment had already flopped before he transmigrated, infamously twisting Japanese history. Though, Edward admitted, slashing through those characters had still felt oddly satisfying.
Then there were GTA, Elden Ring, Sekiro, and countless others — all legends of the gaming world. If only Journey to the West existed in this world, Edward mused, he could easily create his own version of Black Myth: Wukong and introduce this world to a completely new cultural phenomenon.
After thinking it over, however, Edward chose not to give them direct instructions. He wanted to see how far the studio could go on its own. If they could produce something impressive independently, all the better.
He approved their application to start development but on one condition: they still had to submit a detailed proposal and concept plan for his review before full production began. Only if their evaluation passed would they proceed. Edward didn't want to invest resources only to end up with a disaster like Starfield — that would be a loss for everyone involved.
Still, he wasn't too worried. This world lacked many of the absurd controversies and politically correct nonsense that plagued his previous life's gaming industry, so he could relax.
"Maybe I'll even get to play a single-player game made by my own company someday," Edward said with a laugh, scooping Q into his arms and walking out of the office.
He had been overwhelmed with business lately and was honestly exhausted. Today, he decided, he wouldn't film or work on anything else. He just wanted to go home and rest properly for once.
But just as he reached his doorstep, his phone rang — a message from Kennedy.
After reading it, Edward sighed and immediately turned back toward the Devon Corporation headquarters.
"Kennedy, you're saying some customers have reported issues with PokéCart?" he asked, frowning slightly. The app had grown into one of Devon's largest e-commerce platforms, backed by immense financial power. It even had its own payment service, PokéPay, modeled after the digital payment systems from his previous life.
Though inspired by that old model, Edward had improved it significantly — streamlining user experience, fixing countless annoyances, and introducing powerful features that quickly attracted a massive user base. The app had exploded in popularity during the 11-11 shopping festival and had since become a household name.
So, Edward was understandably concerned about any problem involving it.
"Yes, boss," Kennedy replied crisply. "According to user reports, there are signs of illegal transactions occurring in the same-city delivery section of PokéCart. Some criminals are…"
By the time Kennedy finished explaining, Edward's stomach ached. He honestly hadn't expected such a thing to happen — though, thinking back to his previous life, he remembered all the shady dealings that had taken place on second-hand trading platforms.
Those sellers always looked legitimate on the surface to outsiders, the listings seemed completely normal but only those "in the know" could decipher what was really being sold. It was absurdly difficult to regulate.
"Can Porygon handle it?" Edward asked, recalling the digital Pokémon known for its virtual capabilities. Designed specifically for navigating and managing cyberspace, Porygon was exceptionally skilled at combating network threats — though admittedly useless in actual battles.
"It can," Kennedy nodded, "but our company's Porygon units are a bit stretched thin."
Ah. Now Edward understood why he'd been called in. Porygon were primarily developed and maintained by the Pokémon League, and most companies had to hire them as digital specialists. Because of their unparalleled online abilities, their fees were extremely high — the kind of monthly salary that would make ordinary workers weep with envy.
"Then hire them. I'll sign off," Edward said decisively. Kennedy smiled, immediately presenting the relevant documents for his signature.
After approving the contract, Edward also took the opportunity to check in on Devon Corporation's overall performance. Everything seemed stable and progressing smoothly.
"Kennedy, how do you think Fortune's doing? Is he handling things well?" Edward asked.
At that, Kennedy's expression turned a little awkward. He glanced at Edward and hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond.
Like father, like son, he thought helplessly. Both of them shared the same lazy ambition that could make anyone's heart skip a beat.
Old President Joseph had groomed Edward as his successor and now Edward, without missing a beat, was grooming Fortune to take over after him. Truly, the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree.
"Not bad," Kennedy said carefully. "Fortune has shown remarkable talent in this area, but he still needs time to learn."
Edward nodded. He understood perfectly well. Fortune wasn't yet ready to take the reins, but with enough training, he would eventually become capable of leading the Devon Corporation in the future.
Thinking about that made Edward's mood brighten considerably.
When the day came that Fortune could manage the company himself, Edward could finally live a relaxed, carefree life.
"Boss, there are also several acquisition applications that need your approval," Kennedy added quickly. Since Edward was already there, he wasn't about to waste the opportunity to get more official business signed off.
Edward sighed, resigned but compliant. After all, this was part of his job.
(End of Chapter)