"Hmm? A director who just joined our company is asking if we have any good scripts?"
After finishing a long day of filming, Edward ran into Zoroark, who looked a little rushed as it posed this question. Hearing it, Edward fell silent, sinking into thought.
At this stage, Edward's Ghost Films Productions had more or less entered a stable, professional track. At the very least, all the necessary operations were running properly. Even if he didn't direct a movie himself, there would still be other directors handling productions. The real difficulty lay in the matter of screenwriting.
A good screenwriter and a good story were not things that could be obtained easily. Edward knew this very well. In his past life, how many scripts were written every single year? But among the thousands produced, only a tiny handful actually got filmed, and even fewer managed to achieve both popularity and praise. The same rule applied in the Pokémon world.
"Is Monica available?" Edward suddenly thought of the company's first screenwriter—the female writer who had penned A Doll's House. Her talent was solid, and Edward had always held high expectations for her.
But after that one work, Monica had not released any new scripts for quite some time. Edward didn't find this strange. After all, just because a writer had written something didn't mean it could be put directly into production.
Many stories died before they were ever seen, collapsing halfway through. Edward himself was considered prolific, but that was only because he had the advantage of drawing from the many already well-known films of his previous life. Without that treasure trove, he wouldn't have been able to produce scripts at such speed either.
"Boss, Miss Monica is currently in seclusion writing. She hasn't left her house for an entire week," Zoroark reported helplessly.
Hearing this, Edward's lips twitched. Not leaving home for a whole week? He almost worried Monica might have died alone inside. But he quickly shook the thought away. That was impossible.
After all, Monica had Pokémon. If something happened, her Pokémon could easily seek help. In this world, thanks to Pokémon partners, lonely deaths were far less common.
Still, given her current state, Monica obviously couldn't take on the role of screenwriter. But this situation sparked a thought in Edward's mind. He had tested before: movies produced by his company that weren't directly his own work did not contribute to his Fear Points. But what if he personally wrote a script and let someone else direct it—would that count?
Edward couldn't split himself into multiple people. There were a number of promising horror films he wanted to adapt, but he simply didn't have the time and energy to handle every project himself. Writing a script and letting others direct seemed like a practical solution.
"I see. I'll just write one myself," Edward finally said, his interest piqued. During his recent shoots, a certain horror film had come to his mind—an unusual, highly controversial one. Over the years, countless people had produced different explanations and interpretations of this film, yet regardless of perspective, its ultimate effect was always the same: an overwhelming sense of despair.
Zoroark blinked in surprise at his decision. But since its boss had already made up his mind, it certainly wasn't going to object. With a nod, it quickly jotted the matter down, then hurried away to handle some production arrangements.
"Then let's go with RULE #1," Edward murmured, tapping his fingers twice against the desk. He rushed back to his home, opened his laptop, and began diligently typing away.
…
RULE #1.
It was a rather unique Hong Kong-style horror film. Slightly niche, perhaps, but not obscure—enough people had seen it to give it recognition. Its greatest distinction from other horror films lay in its central rule.
Most horror films fell into categories that audiences were familiar with. In the first type, the protagonists could ultimately defeat or at least seal away the evil spirits—this was the mainstream format. The second type leaned toward true hopelessness, like The Grudge or One Missed Call. Among them, The Grudge was the clear exemplar of pure despair. One Missed Call began that way too, though later sequels introduced loopholes—such as transferring the curse to another—which made survival theoretically possible.
The third type were bizarre or experimental works, often mixing horror with dark humor or gore, such as The Evil Dead. While technically horror, they were usually not treated as pure horror experiences.
But RULE #1 stood apart from all three categories. Its story gave audiences a suffocating sense of futility, the kind where no matter how hard one struggled, every effort was in vain. And lurking beyond the visible despair was a deeper darkness that remained hidden.
The story followed a police officer named Lee Kwok Keung. While issuing a parking ticket, he unexpectedly encountered a ghost. This incident led him to discover that the car's owner, Chan Fook Lai, was in fact a deranged murderer. Though Lee was injured, he managed to kill Chan. Up to this point, the plot seemed relatively standard. But from here, the script began taking sharp turns.
While recovering in the hospital, Lee was tended to by a nurse who secretly slipped him a message inside his cast. However, when he wrote in his report that he had seen a ghost, he was transferred to the Miscellaneous Department—a near-forgotten division. Its head, Wong Yiu Fai, a character played by a famous heartthrob actor, told him the division's golden rule:
"RULE #1 of this world is that ghosts do not exist."
Lee found his superior odd but didn't question him. As he continued working, Lee discovered mounting evidence that ghosts did in fact exist. Yet Wong stubbornly repeated: there are no ghosts in this world.
Amidst this, cases of strange girl suicides emerged, dragging Lee and Wong deeper into a tangled web of eerie events. It was then that Lee learned of the terrifying existence known as the "Possessing Ghost." These entities were horrifyingly powerful: if they touched someone, they could instantly take control of that person's body. The victim would then become like a vegetable—empty, gone—while the ghost lived on flawlessly within their shell.
Worse still, if the ghost chose not to act, it could continue living life through that body undetected.
The only way to destroy such a ghost was to kill the host body it possessed. Only then would the spirit be trapped in a rotting corpse and perish.
The twist? The very murderer Lee had shot—Chan Fook Lai—returned as such a Possessing Ghost. He slaughtered groups of schoolgirls before tormenting Lee directly, even possessing Lee's unfaithful wife, who had already betrayed him with an affair.
Lee resisted as best he could, aided by Wong, but eventually Wong was killed. Lee believed he had finally triumphed—only to be outwitted in the end. Chan succeeded in possessing Lee himself, turning him into a puppet of the dead.
The film closed with a chilling image: Lee standing before his superiors, being asked whether ghosts existed. His final words—"There are no ghosts."
…
At first glance, the story seemed simple, but hidden within were layers of bleak implications.
First: if Possession Ghosts had such overwhelming power, how many high-ranking officials—or ordinary people—were already replaced? Just brushing past someone on the street could mean instant possession. The scope was terrifyingly limitless.
Second: Lee's shadowy superior. His full face was never shown, only his mouth endlessly chewing food. He, too, carried deep suspicion of being one of the possessed. In the closing shot, his clothes bore a coffee stain. Some analyses suggested this meant Lee had tried to possess his superior to climb higher, but had failed—because the superior was already a ghost.
It was a world designed to strip away all hope. Humanity's only defense against the supernatural was to kill the possessed, a cruel, stomach-turning rule. No divine powers, no sacred rituals—just cold-blooded execution.
Some critics had attempted to explain the story from the "no ghosts exist" perspective, treating it as pure metaphor. But that reading was convoluted, leaving holes and contradictions. Edward preferred the "ghosts are real" approach.
When adapting RULE #1, Edward didn't make sweeping changes. He mainly localized the names to fit the Pokémon world and added subtle foreshadowing throughout, heightening the film's oppressive despair. The original had relatively few overt jump scares; its horror lay in the "the more you think, the scarier it gets" type. Edward was eager to see how audiences in this world would react.
"But this style really is peculiar. And after I finish The Truman Show, I still have to assist old man Kirk with Rear Window…" Edward yawned. He genuinely wanted to direct this film himself. In his eyes, RULE #1 wasn't the scariest, but it was fascinating—its worldview and concept were brilliant.
The problem was: he was simply too busy.
The Truman Show was still piled on his desk. After wrapping that, he had promised to be deputy director on Kirk's Rear Window, mainly to provide energy for the special camera. Without him, Kirk couldn't operate it at full capacity.
Still, Edward was looking forward to working with Kirk. Not only would it help the older director complete his project, but Edward could also learn valuable techniques to refine his own filmmaking craft.
For now, though, he had to accept reality: RULE #1 would have to be handed off to another director.
…
By the time he finished adapting the script, night had already fallen. Stretching his arms, Edward leaned back with satisfaction, then rolled his neck to loosen the stiffness. Around him, the crew had all gone to rest. Outside, the city of Rustboro was lively. Word had spread that Edward was filming here, so many people wandered the streets hoping to catch a lucky break.
Some even stood in the middle of the road, singing loudly to attract attention. Edward's mouth twitched—fame always brought these kinds of problems. Still, his situation wasn't so bad.
Thanks to the influence of the Stone family in Hoenn, his home security was strong. He'd heard of other internet stars whose newfound fame led to daily harassment: neighbors demanding loans they never repaid, or insulting them as stingy when refused. Edward, fortunately, didn't face such troubles, which made him feel all the more at ease.
"I'll have Zoroark send the script to that director tomorrow," Edward muttered, yawning as he climbed into bed. The weather had turned cold lately. Even though the house was warm, he had developed the habit of going to bed early.
With nothing else to do, he opened his phone and chatted idly in a group chat. Sometimes he picked up interesting tidbits from there.
Suddenly, a news headline caught his eye. Curious, he tapped it open.
[Ghost Amusement Park Explodes in Popularity! Haunted House Becomes a Must-Play Attraction]
"The amusement park became this popular already?" Edward was surprised. In the Pokémon world, amusement parks were everywhere. Usually, for one to rise above the crowd took years of steady development and strong word-of-mouth.
Yet it seemed that with his brother and Wallace's participation, the pace had accelerated dramatically.
Stroking his chin, Edward read the article carefully. The haunted house had already become a phenomenon, drawing large crowds. Many visitors—particularly young men—came specifically for it.
The interviews made him grimace.
"I heard the girl working inside is super cute. I want to propose to her!"
"Just seeing Miss Tomie makes the ticket worth it!"
"I buy a ticket every day just to see Miss Tomie again!"
"Is Tomie's charm a little too strong…?" Edward scratched his head. He knew she was stationed in the haunted house—he had arranged it himself. But he hadn't expected her allure to be so overwhelming. After only two days of operation, customers were already visiting daily just for her.
Still, he shook his head. He was overthinking. Tomie, while dangerously beautiful, wasn't actually harmful as long as no one provoked her. As long as no fool acted recklessly, the guests were safe.
Of course, if someone did cross the line and infuriate her… that was another matter.
"Hopefully there won't be too many idiots," Edward muttered. He would have to stop by soon to advise Tomie to keep a lower profile.
(End of Chapter)
RULE #1 - 2008 ‧ Horror/Action Film