"One month later, the very last scene of The Truman Show will be filmed."
Looking at the bustling crew in front of him, Edward couldn't help but show a small smile.
After rushing day and night, he finally managed to complete the entire filming of The Truman Show before the year turned over. Today marked the filming of the final scene.
"Mr. Carrey, are you ready?" the assistant director asked hurriedly.
Jim took a deep breath, then smiled and nodded with determination.
Edward clapped his hands lightly, and the crew immediately began working busily. At this moment, they were floating on the sea just outside Rustoboro City. This sequence was the ending of The Truman Show.
In truth, movies were not always filmed from beginning to end in chronological order. Because of weather changes or the actors' schedules, sometimes the ending scenes were shot first. But Edward insisted on leaving this part for last.
On screen, Truman steered his boat to the very edge of the cage that had imprisoned him for his entire life. In front of him stretched the endless expanse of blue sky and ocean—yet what he discovered was that it was nothing more than a painted backdrop. Truman was filled with emotions: excitement, liberation, and the bitter sting of realizing he had been deceived all along.
From above came the voice of the director, persuading him to stay. The outside world, he said, was not as beautiful as it seemed. If Truman remained, he would forever be the protagonist, the central figure of this carefully crafted world where everything revolved around him.
But Truman chose to refuse. Step by step, he climbed onto the set itself, found the door that led out, and placed his hand on the doorknob. Slowly, he pushed it open.
Just as he was about to leave, Truman seemed to remember something. He turned his head, looked directly into the camera, and revealed his signature smile.
"Good morning! And in case I don't see you again… good afternoon, good evening, and good night!"
Truman gave a bow, then stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him.
At that very moment, the entire filming of The Truman Show came to an end.
"Alright! Thank you, everyone, for your hard work all this time. I now declare The Truman Show officially wrapped!" Edward applauded.
Jim's performance had truly been outstanding—so realistic that it felt as though the real Truman was standing before him. Edward was deeply impressed. He knew this film would certainly leave a brilliant and unforgettable mark in the history of the Pokémon League's film cinema.
Jim looked at the surrounding crew. He was still holding Truman's iconic smile, but as he gazed at the busy people around him, he suddenly felt as if he himself had walked out of the screen world and returned to reality.
Watching him, Edward couldn't help but smile faintly.
The Truman Show was a rather unique film, open to many interpretations. The mainstream understanding, however, was that it explored the question of whether one should face the cruel, unknown reality or remain in a false but beautiful illusion. Others argued it was a metaphor by the director for the social conditions of that era.
Edward, however, felt differently. If The Truman Show truly happened, not everyone would choose to return to reality. Just as the director in the story had said, reality was cruel, false, and full of risk. The person who swore they loved you today—who could say what they might be like in the future? Even if their promise was sincere at the moment, people changed, and so did feelings.
For that reason, Edward had no plans to shoot an epilogue for Truman. To do so would be to pass final judgment on Truman's future life, which could only end up alienating part of the audience.
Some would argue Truman should suffer after leaving, regretting the days when he was the adored star of a reality show. Others would argue Truman should live happily ever after, grateful for the choice he made.
By not shooting a follow-up, Edward left Truman's fate entirely in the hands of the audience's imagination.
"Mr. Carrey, don't forget to attend the wrap-up banquet tonight," Edward reminded him with a smile. Jim had just changed clothes—his pants still damp from the sea spray when he'd walked up the stairs.
"Director Edward, you truly are an extraordinary filmmaker. Please contact me if you ever have a role suited for me in the future," Jim said excitedly, clutching Edward's hand.
Edward was momentarily stunned, but then smiled and nodded.
In truth, few of his films were suited to Jim. Edward specialized in horror movies, and most horror characters did not fit Jim's style.
Jim's career path had been somewhat restricted to comedy films. Not because he wished to stay in a comfort zone, but because his most famous roles had all been comedic. As a result, audiences instinctively associated him with comedy, no matter what he played. This was why Edward had him wear heavy makeup in The Grudge, masking his face to avoid recognition.
It was much like the case of Rowan Atkinson—after starring in so many comedies, even his non-comedy roles made audiences expect humor. That was why many actors longed to expand their repertoire, lest they be boxed in and harm their future prospects.
"I don't have immediate filming plans right now. Once The Truman Show finishes its run, I might start something new. If there's a role that fits you, I'll let you know," Edward said honestly. He planned to rest for the New Year, giving himself a much-needed break. Otherwise, he felt like a beast of burden, endlessly toiling without pause.
"I very much look forward to working with you again," Jim replied cheerfully, handing Edward a document. Curious, Edward took it, and to his surprise, it was a contract.
Jim actually wanted to join Edward's company.
Startled, Edward looked at him, but Jim only smiled back. Realizing he was serious, Edward wasted no time calling Zoroark over to handle the signing. This was no ordinary contract—it was a high-level agreement, befitting Jim's status as a first-rate star.
Overall, Edward was the one who benefited more. Jim was already famous, and Ghost Films would profit from the box office share of any future films.
"This opens up new possibilities…" Edward mused. While horror films were his personal passion, and he had taken them to great heights—especially in the Pokémon world where horror cinema had previously been weak—he knew the true money lay in commercial blockbusters.
Horror had gotten him far, partly because he had patents that made his films uniquely terrifying, but pushing further up was difficult.
Thus, Edward considered venturing into commercial cinema.
"Commercial films, huh…" He stroked his chin. In that field, the most successful had always been superhero films. The Avengers franchise had once created box office miracles. The profit margins were astronomical.
But in the Pokémon world, ordinary superhero movies might not appeal as much. After all, this was a world where Pokémon existed. Heroes needed bigger "cheats" to win over the public's imagination.
"If it's superheroes…" Edward thought deeply. At first, he considered starting with Marvel, but after some thought, he decided to begin with the DC Universe instead.
And naturally, the first character to debut would be Batman.
Batman was just an ordinary man—his only superpower being wealth—but his personal charm was undeniable. Moreover, his rogues' gallery could introduce a host of villains. It would also serve as a test to see which DC villains were most popular, laying the groundwork for future series, perhaps even Suicide Squad.
Such films would rake in money hand over fist. With the IP libraries of both Marvel and DC, once those characters were established, Ghost Films could practically coast on royalties alone.
"Well then, I'll spend some time writing scripts." With a yawn, Edward boarded the ship back to Rustboro. He had dinner with the crew, bringing the wrap-up banquet to an end.
"Boss, Mr. Carrey's contract is settled," Zoroark reported afterward. Edward nodded, not bothering with the details—Zoroark could handle them.
He only skimmed the contract briefly, confirming it matched Jim's status, then let Zoroark put it away. With Jim on board, the company's expansion could move even faster.
Every industry had its own circles, and actors were most connected to other actors. Having worked in the entertainment scene for so long, Jim naturally had his own network. With him, Edward might even recruit more stars in the future.
"Boss, here's this month's financial report." Zoroark handed over another document.
Edward twitched. He had seen this in the morning but used filming as an excuse to delay it. Now Zoroark had brought it back again.
Resigned, Edward rubbed his forehead and flipped it open.
As usual, most of Ghost Film's income came from IP licensing, with additional revenue from The Grudge's box office split. The movie had grossed a huge amount, but after the split, the actual profit wasn't as impressive.
"Wait… the amusement park profits are that high?" Edward was surprised. Ghost Amusement Park had only been open for a month, yet it was already doing so well that it would recover its costs in less than half a year. Everything after that would be pure profit.
"Boss, Ghost Amusement Park is packed with people every day," Zoroark explained, handing him more files.
Edward looked. The daily visitor count was enormous, and nearly everyone bought tickets to the haunted house.
"So many for the haunted house?" Edward was shocked. He had been so busy with filming lately that he hadn't paid attention, and he never expected the haunted house to become the park's main attraction.
"Boss, the staff member you hired was too good. Miss Tomie already has a fan club. Some people even asked if she would debut as an idol," Zoroark said helplessly.
Edward glanced at the photos in his hand. Sure enough, Tomie even had her own website.
To make things worse, Secretary Kennedy had learned about it and immediately designed chibi Tomie merchandise and T-shirts. A single shirt with Tomie's Q-version face sold for 388 credits in the park.
All Edward could think was: fans' money was ridiculously easy to earn. No wonder so many in his past life dreamed of becoming idols, and why idol companies were everywhere.
"Unbelievable…" Edward felt a headache coming on. Tomie was an unregistered ghost with no official identity here. If the Alliance investigated for taxes, it could be troublesome. But realistically, the Alliance probably wouldn't bother.
And even if Tomie made money, what could she spend it on? She was a vengeful spirit who couldn't go outside. Edward simply decided not to interfere—let her use her earnings however she wished.
"Alright," Edward put the papers down and checked the rest.
Now that he delegated his responsibilities on Devon Corporation, his monthly reports only concerned Ghost Films Pictures and the Prayer Wall Foundation—his other major enterprise.
Looking at the foundation's huge expenditures, Edward swallowed nervously.
He had donated a great deal already, yet it still wasn't enough. In such a short time, half the funds were gone. But that also meant more people were being helped.
"Money sitting idle is useless anyway. Better to spend it helping more people." He sighed, pulled out his phone, and donated part of the month's IP income to the foundation.
Unless disease and hardship vanished from the world entirely, this kind of charity could never truly stop.
"Alright, set aside a third of the funds for company development. And since the New Year is near, make sure all taxes are reported and filed properly." Edward signed the documents.
"Yes, Boss. And here's the recent work report…" Zoroark shoved over another thick stack.
Edward's eyelid twitched.
There was no escape. Resigned, he accepted his fate.
(End of Chapter)