"The security team just got hired and they already caught someone?" Edward looked at Zoroark with surprise.
Zoroark nodded, its expression a little complicated, clearly not having expected that things would happen so quickly. After all, before this, even Zoroark had assumed that once the security team was set up, things would remain peaceful for quite a long time.
In this world, serious crimes were actually very rare. Most corporate security teams had rather light work—except for those companies that frequently had to deal with dark organizations, in which case the risks were higher and the teams more professional.
But for most companies, security was little more than decoration. In some residential communities, security eventually devolved into elderly retirees manning the gates. That was why when Edward had insisted on forming a professional security team, Zoroark had thought it might be unnecessary. Who would have guessed that they would prove their worth so quickly?
"Actually," Zoroark explained, "when Kode was recruiting and discussing the matter with candidates, the leader of one team noticed a middle-aged woman acting suspiciously nearby. When he asked her a question, she suddenly pulled out a knife."
Hearing this, Edward pinched his temples.
What kind of situation was this supposed to be? Still, this meant Kode didn't need to waste time comparing which team was more reliable. Their capability had already been proven.
In a sense, this was the best résumé they could present.
Edward originally wanted to ask why that middle-aged woman had acted like that, but after some thought he chose not to. After all, this matter involved the Prayer Wall Foundation. Even if he didn't ask, he could more or less guess the reasons—and knowing them would only leave him feeling helpless.
Most people who sought help from the Prayer Wall Foundation were already at the end of their rope. But fairness and impartiality had to be maintained, otherwise the foundation couldn't operate normally. And illness was an unpredictable thing—it could suddenly worsen. When that happened, it wasn't unheard of for someone to die before help reached them.
Edward wasn't going to plead on anyone's behalf. Once someone brandished a knife, there was no excusing it. If she had really harmed one of the foundation's staff, that would have been the true disaster.
He shook his head. He had already donated so much, and the Prayer Wall Foundation had been able to help more and more people. Yet compared with the number of people who still needed help, it all still felt like a drop in the bucket.
Fortunately, donations from other philanthropists across the Pokémon League had begun pouring in as well. That meant more people could be reached and helped.
"Boss, about the foundation's security team?" Zoroark asked.
Edward didn't hesitate. He told Zoroark to put the new security team under the name of Ghost Films, with their salaries drawn from the studio's budget.
As for the foundation's money, he wouldn't touch it. In fact, all of the foundation's expenditures were funneled through Ghost Films' accounts—never elsewhere. This was Edward's strict requirement, to prevent anyone from nitpicking or twisting the truth.
Every single donation received by the Prayer Wall Foundation was used directly and transparently for those who needed it.
The accounts were recorded in meticulous detail. Each quarter, when financial reports were published, they included a special note clarifying this. That transparency earned the foundation more trust and more donations, creating a healthy cycle.
Zoroark jotted all of this down before leaving to handle official work.
Edward, meanwhile, opened his computer and began drafting the script for The Truman Show.
That film was already a classic, etched into the history of cinema. It hardly needed much adaptation.
Edward's only change was weaving in Pokémon elements so that Pokémon could appear naturally in the story. Beyond that, there was little that needed altering, which made his adaptation process very fast.
The story of The Truman Show was simple: the protagonist, Truman, had lived his entire life unknowingly inside a massive reality show. Everyone around him was an actor. Every moment of his daily life was broadcast live to the world.
Except for private matters like using the bathroom, or intimate discussions with his wife, Truman was filmed twenty-four hours a day. He was, without knowing it, the world's most popular superstar.
His hometown was a complete set, with odd occurrences every day. People constantly tried to slip in advertisements. And whenever accidents happened, the crew swiftly covered them up. Over time, Truman began to notice the oddities and grew increasingly suspicious.
Dissatisfied with his life, he eventually discovered the truth: that his entire world was fake. The film told the story of his decision to break free from the illusion and step into reality.
The premise wasn't overly complicated, but its theme was profound. That was why The Truman Show had earned such high ratings and sparked endless debate.
The most heated discussion was always: If you were Truman, would you choose to stay in the safe, fake world, or leave and face uncertain reality? This single question had fueled forum arguments stretching hundreds of pages.
When Edward finally finished his work, he picked up Q and, with Void, went home. Dropping onto the sofa, he turned on the TV to catch up on Hoenn's latest news.
"The Pokémon League has released the latest professional trainer rankings, drawing widespread attention."
"A famous archaeologist has unearthed a new ruin, offering new insights into ancient regional history."
"Champion Leon of Galar has proposed hosting a Pokémon Masters Tournament."
"A Masters Tournament? And ancient Pokémon regions? Must be teasers for future game versions," Edward muttered absent-mindedly.
Yawning, he propped up his chin as he watched. Before he knew it, he had dozed off.
The breeze was gentle, the weather mild, and cicadas droned outside. Free of worries, Edward drifted into deep sleep.
When he awoke, the first thing he saw was Fortune.
"Fortune? You're back from class?" Edward asked in surprise. He hadn't seen much of Fortune lately. Between his own busy filming schedule and Fortune's schooling, their paths rarely crossed. Still, Edward always made sure to send him Fear Candy.
Fortune beamed and held up an item. It was a diploma from Hoenn University—actually, two diplomas, in Human Resources Management and in Economics. Edward blinked in shock.
"You graduated?" he asked incredulously. As someone who had been through college himself, Edward knew how hard it was to complete a double major, let alone graduate early. Preparing for exams and writing theses alone must have been enough to grind Fortune to the bone.
And early graduation came with tougher thesis defenses. Passing was no small feat.
So, Edward was genuinely stunned.
Fortune happily nodded, then handed over two more documents. Edward glanced at them and nearly choked—they were notices of guaranteed admission to graduate school.
Was Fortune about to pursue two master's degrees at the same time?
Heaven help him! Edward himself had only ever been an undergraduate. He'd never even attended graduate school. And yet here, in the Pokémon world, his Pokémon was going to grad school.
With Fortune's work ethic and talent, Edward wouldn't even be surprised if he went on to a PhD someday.
"Are you planning to go?" Edward asked. Though he posed it as a question, he already knew the answer. Fortune was devoted to learning. There was no way he'd pass up the opportunity.
Sure enough, Fortune nodded. Edward didn't object. It wasn't as though he needed his Pokémon to battle—if they wanted to have their own lives, he supported that wholeheartedly.
In fact, he had long had plans for Fortune. He encouraged his studies precisely because, in the future, Fortune could take on managerial roles in Devon Corporation or Ghost Films. Then Edward would only need to deal with critical decisions while Fortune handled day-to-day operations.
After all, just look at his father, Joseph. Even as Devon's president, the man was trapped in the role, never able to live the life he truly wanted. Despite all the power and wealth, he was chained to endless responsibilities.
"Alright, I support you," Edward said warmly, patting Fortune's head, its cold surface carrying a faint chill. "But during holidays and free time, you'll need to intern at the company. Human resources and economics—those fields only come alive with real practice."
Fortune nodded seriously. He already knew from university that while many studied HR and management, few ever applied it effectively in real work. His advisor had explained that such degrees were often pursued by heirs to family businesses—ordinary graduates usually wound up as low-level clerks.
Seeing Fortune's excitement, Edward smiled, stretched, and got up from the sofa. Just then, the old butler appeared, gently informing him that dinner was ready.
So, Edward gathered Fortune, Q, and the others for a meal. Only he attended, though—his father had a meeting, and his brother was busy with work.
"Guess I really do need to cultivate him. I wonder if there will ever be a Pokémon perfectly suited to taking over someone's office job?" Edward mused while eating. After all, there were already Pokémon like Indeedee, who excelled as butlers and caretakers. Surely one day there would be a Pokémon that could excel as an office worker too.
With such whimsical thoughts, Edward returned to his bedroom, finished writing the script for The Truman Show on his laptop, and went to sleep content.
The next morning, he woke with a yawn and glanced out the window—only to shiver at the sight of a pair of blood-red eyes staring in at him.
But the hulking silhouette was familiar.
"Gengar?" Edward exclaimed. Wasn't Gengar supposed to be off visiting friends? How had it returned so soon?
"Edward, the moment I came back, I saw you feeding Fortune Fear Candy." Gengar's mournful voice sent chills down Edward's spine. The eerie tone didn't even need editing—it was ready-made horror film material.
Coughing, Edward opened the window. Gengar seeped inside like a puddle of shadow, its enormous eyes fixed on the jar of Fear Candy on the table.
Edward sighed. The candies were meant for Fortune, who would need them when graduate school forced him to push himself even harder. Though master's programs involved research and projects under advisors, Edward knew Fortune—he was the type to finish early no matter what.
"Gengar, these are for you." Edward relented, pulling out the candy machine and making ten Fear Candies on the spot. Gengar eagerly scooped them up.
Watching, Edward could only shake his head. But then an idea struck him. He was preparing to shoot a short horror film, and while he already had a concept, he still needed actors.
Since the film was meant to be aimed at wild Pokémon audiences, the cast would be Pokémon rather than humans. And who better to play a malevolent spirit than Gengar?
For setting, Edward wanted something natural to wild Pokémon. Most needed water—so what if hauntings happened by the water's edge? That would surely feel immersive.
"Gengar, are you interested in acting in a movie?" Edward asked with a smile.
Gengar trembled, falling into silence.
Edward frowned. By all logic, Gengar should have been excited—he had acted before and been paid in Fear Candy. Why the sudden hesitation now?
(End of Chapter)