Edward was genuinely looking forward to seeing Sadako and Kayako work together, but at the same time, he also felt a bit conflicted.
After all, Edward knew very well that when two major characters from different works suddenly "collaborate" in a single film, it usually means the film studio has ideas of its own. They're planning to create a cinematic universe—just like the classic example of Marvel's Avengers series. By interconnecting the solo films of characters like Iron Man, Thor, and Captain America, they ultimately produced The Avengers, which ignited an unprecedented Marvel boom at the time.
That was a relatively successful example. But perhaps because Marvel's Avengers was too successful, it led to many problems afterward. Numerous film studios also attempted to create their own cinematic universes, yet almost none ever reached Marvel's height.
What's more, Marvel's own later films gradually declined in quality. Their new releases were mediocre, formulaic, and nowhere near their former glory. They even scrapped the previously hyped villain Kang the Conqueror and brought back Robert Downey Jr. to play Doctor Doom in an attempt to salvage Marvel's battered reputation.
Edward had also watched another classic horror crossover film before: Freddy vs. Jason. One was the immortal killer who haunted Crystal Lake, and the other was now literally working at his side as bringer of good dreams. So, Edward naturally understood a lot about this type of collaboration.
But to be honest, that movie was still better than Sadako vs. Kayako. The main reason such films attract audiences is simple: people want to watch two killers go on a rampage and eventually clash with each other.
The reason Sadako vs. Kayako failed, at least in Edward's view, was because most of the film focused on three living characters, and barely showcased the two female ghosts. Worse yet, the director was Kōji Shiraishi—someone with a very distinct artistic style.
His style leans heavily toward Lovecraftian elements, unlike Takashi Shimizu, the creator of The Grudge. Perhaps it was the difference in directorial style that caused the film to flop. After all, a director influences a movie profoundly.
One could even say that if the same script were handed to different directors to film and edit, the resulting movies would look completely different. Such powerful personal styles are what shape legendary directors.
"This one… we can keep for later. But for now, it's not really the right time to film it." Edward scratched his head. The idea itself was interesting, but there were still many issues. The original script obviously couldn't be used directly. If they were really going to film it, the question remained—how should they film it?
So, Edward wasn't in a hurry. Besides, he already had plans for upcoming movies. He intended to work on the Saw series next. Saw was undeniably a classic, though the series had one issue—its fear points might be weaker. It wasn't particularly scary.
If anything, it was just gory. Unless Edward drew a skill like "limb pain synchronization," allowing audiences to physically feel their limbs break during the movie, scaring them would be difficult. And in terms of scare factor, Tomie: Unlimited was even more terrifying, yet had only earned a small amount of fear points. So, Saw wouldn't be enough.
"Alright, boss—there's also another script submitted by a director. He wants the company to approve it, but the script is a bit… unusual, so…" Zoroark handed over another script, and Edward's interest was immediately piqued.
His company was no longer the tiny little studio it used to be. It had become a massive enterprise with numerous directors and actors. And because of Edward's standards, the company remained extremely clean and free of the usual entertainment industry nonsense. Edward believed in the principle of "the capable rise," so the directors and actors his company attracted all had real ability. As a result, Ghost Films Studio had become something of a disruptive force in the industry.
With so many directors, Edward obviously couldn't read every script himself. He didn't have the time. That's why he created a special review department to evaluate scripts based on feasibility, profit, expected reputation, and so on. If a script passed, it got funding. If not, it was rejected.
However, some scripts were sent directly to him—either because the review department was extremely divided in opinion, or because the required budget was too high and needed the boss's approval.
"This script was submitted by a director who wants to film something like a crime movie, and…" Zoroark explained the extra details not written in the documents. Meanwhile, Edward focused on the title on the cover.
"Infernal Affairs."
Edward raised his eyebrows and continued reading.
Another three years! Three more years!
I want to be a good man.
There's a mole—stop the deal.
These classic lines appeared one after another, and Edward was genuinely surprised. He'd already suspected, ever since seeing Rear Window, that this world mirrored certain things from his previous life—like movies. But he didn't expect something as unique as Infernal Affairs to appear.
Infernal Affairs had been the pinnacle of Hong Kong cinema. Upon release, it received endless praise. Many of its memes and iconic lines were still used all the way to Edward's former era. It was an extraordinary film.
Its themes and execution were impressive, and the brilliant performances of its legendary Hong Kong actors elevated the film even further. Their subtle expressions, shifting gazes, and emotional nuance were things many younger actors could only dream of mastering.
Edward had once considered filming Infernal Affairs himself, but eventually decided against it and planned to wait for the future. Unexpectedly, a director under him had now produced a completed script. That wasn't bad at all.
"Approve it. And follow the company's filming requirements," Edward said with a wave of his hand. He'd already read through the entire script. The plot of Infernal Affairs was mostly unchanged, but Pokémon had been incorporated, giving the story some unique twists.
But this didn't harm the script's quality at all. Edward was very satisfied.
"Yes, boss," Zoroark recorded everything carefully.
Next, Edward returned to filming his own movie.
With Kayako herself appearing on set, the final scenes wrapped smoothly. All that was left was editing—and this gave Edward a new idea.
"Zoroark, how would you say our post-production department is doing in terms of soundtrack quality?" Edward leaned back in the car, gently petting Q as he questioned Zoroark, who was driving.
"Huh? Boss, I think they're pretty good. Everything is very professional now." Zoroark didn't understand why Edward suddenly asked this, but since he asked, she answered. Thanks to Mr. Kennedy's training, Zoroark had already learned most of the company's internal operations—as a proper secretary should.
That was the essence of Secretary Kennedy's teachings: a secretary must understand the company deeply. Only with broad and detailed knowledge can one truly know the company's needs.
Because of this, Zoroark was familiar not only with the entire Ghost Films, but even with various bits of gossip and rumors.
"Oh? And if we wanted to improve, do we have room for improvement?" Edward became even more interested. In horror films, sound design was crucial.
Good sound makes the fear. Many people joked that if you watch a horror movie muted while playing upbeat music like "Happy Birthday" or "Gangnam Style," almost any horror movie instantly becomes non-scary. And it's true—good audio design elevates a film dramatically.
"So… there should be room for improvement. Some music can be outsourced, but…" Zoroark explained her thoughts. Edward became thoughtful.
He even remembered Tom and Jerry. Many of its iconic musical cues were created by an orchestra specially hired for the show, and they played a huge part in its success.
Edward came up with a plan. He wanted to expand the post-production department further, enabling them to create more realistic sound effects. He also wanted to collaborate with professional orchestras, letting them handle music composition. That would surely elevate their films.
Feeling confident in his idea, Edward smiled with satisfaction.
After returning to the company, he took little Q to visit the welfare center.
Meanwhile, as the post-production team's hair grew thinner and their screams grew louder, the trailer for The Grudge 3 was finally completed. After confirming with Edward, Zoroark immediately uploaded it online.
"Hello everyone! Today, we're watching—ah! Ghost Film's newest trailer: The Grudge 3!" On the familiar, PoképokéTV platform, Smiley sat in his streaming room, visibly excited.
Edward didn't release new works very often. Films take time after all. But Smiley was one of his most fanatical supporters. He had known about this so-called "final chapter of The Grudge" for a long time and had been eagerly awaiting it.
[This timing though. Not cool, bro—it's already 9 p.m.!]
[Totally normal. Director Edward is always like this. I've gotten used to his cursed style.]
[Same here. But I'm still excited. The Grudge is widely considered the scariest horror film of the year.]
"Yes, yes, it's late. But how could I possibly resist watching it? I can't wait even a second longer!" Smiley practically lunged toward the play button. The trailer had only been out for three minutes, yet live viewers had already exceeded 200,000. Truly unbelievable.
As the title The Grudge 3 appeared, the footage made viewers curious.
The entire trailer wasn't very long, and a large portion of it looked like behind-the-scenes cuts. If someone didn't know better, they might really think Edward had uploaded a blooper reel by mistake.
[Honestly, I'm curious what The Grudge bloopers even look like.]
[Same, but Edward Stone refuses to release them. Annoying!]
[Another boring "misleading trailer" tactic? Has Director Edward run out of ideas?]
[Yeah, this is so dull. I'd rather be watching some "special little movies" at home.]
[You'd better mean normal little movies.]
Finally, at the end, a woman appeared walking under the sunset. She wore a strange expression—part kind, part blank, like she had no soul. Just looking at her made people feel suffocated.
Then Kayako's iconic croaking, bubbling throat sound played.
The trailer ended.
"To be honest, if it weren't for that final bubbling sound, I would've thought he uploaded the wrong file." Smiley's voice trembled with excitement. This was how a horror movie trailer should be—mysterious and withholding. The less shown, the more the audience anticipates. And the woman in the trailer was a very famous, highly skilled actress.
[Just hearing that sound made my whole body crawl.]
[Stop it! I feel like Kayako is standing right behind me…]
[Impossible, bro. S—something like that won't happen—]
Smiley laughed helplessly at the chaotic barrage of comments, but he happily entertained everyone, helping raise the mood.
"In that case… why don't we give away 500 tickets for The Grudge 3 today?" Smiley said with a bright smile.
(End of Chapter)