"What… what's going on here?" Edward stared blankly at the ceiling above him.
A massive hole had already been smashed through the roof. One had to know that his house wasn't just one story tall—it had three full levels. The attic on the top floor was used for storing miscellaneous items, the second floor was where everyone slept, with his own room, Steven's room, and Joseph's room all situated there.
The first floor contained the kitchen, dining room, living room, and even a gym. The Stone family would often go in there to exercise and keep their bodies in good condition.
There was also a special piece of equipment custom-made by his father to simulate mining work. Supposedly, training with it regularly would help improve mining speed and make one's technique more refined.
Edward himself didn't understand the appeal, but his father and brother would frequently use the contraption.
What was more, when the house had been built, his family hadn't been stingy at all. They had invested heavily in strong construction materials. Even an ordinary earthquake wouldn't cause much damage.
Yet, out of all things, a random stone had actually crashed through the house—piercing straight through the third and second floors before landing right in front of him.
"A meteorite?" Edward felt a guess forming in his heart. But just as he thought of this, the old butler rushed in at top speed, dragging Edward away in case another stone fell and directly smashed him on the head. After all, even though one might say the human skull was tough, it obviously couldn't compare to reinforced concrete.
If a meteorite could pierce the third and second floors, it could just as easily smash through his head.
Fortunately, no more stones came crashing down afterward. The rock that had landed in front of Edward was quickly sent to Devon Corporation for inspection. The results confirmed it: this really was a meteorite. Edward was simply unlucky. Out of all the places such a thing could have fallen, it just had to land in his home.
But in another sense, one could say he was lucky. After all, the odds of a meteorite falling right in front of someone were even lower than winning the lottery.
"Edward, I heard a meteorite almost hit you?" His father hurried over, anxious and out of breath.
Edward had just put down his phone—his brother Steven had also called earlier, asking about the meteorite. If not for the fact that Steven was currently on a mission assigned by the League, Edward suspected he would have flown straight over.
"Dad, don't worry. I'm fine." Edward smiled, then hefted the meteorite in his hand. It wasn't particularly heavy. According to the inspection report, it weighed precisely 3.213 kilograms—3,213.41 grams, calculated with great accuracy.
Seeing his son so relaxed, Joseph finally exhaled. Earlier, when Robert told him that Edward had almost been struck by a meteorite, his heart had leapt to his throat. Now it finally began to settle down. Yet his eyes inevitably fell on the meteorite itself.
It looked plain and unremarkable, its surface darkened black. Joseph picked up the inspection report from the table and skimmed through it.
The meteorite was a metallic type, primarily composed of iron with trace amounts of other metals, but all of them were common to this world. There was nothing especially rare about it. Tests also showed no viruses or bacteria present, so there was no danger of infection.
"Looks like we'll need to install some kind of interception net over the house from now on," Joseph muttered, still shaken. He had already decided to have one installed the moment he got back. Such an incident had never happened in his lifetime, but what if? This time Edward had been lucky—the meteorite hadn't struck his head. What about next time?
He would rather spend extra money than risk such a possibility.
Edward understood his father's worry. Though he felt the precaution was unnecessary, he didn't object.
Still, he took the meteorite with him. He couldn't help but wonder—was this perhaps the very stone capable of resonating with Rayquaza?
If so, then he truly was a child of destiny. To always have exactly what he needed fall into his lap—if that wasn't fate, then what was it? Just a daydreamer?
"Daydreamer?" Edward raised a brow. That stray thought reminded him of a certain film. In his previous life, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty had only grossed $190 million worldwide—respectable, but not a huge hit. It was a classic case of a film praised by some but ignored by audiences.
The reviews had been polarizing: some critics hailed it as outstanding, while others blasted it as little more than a clumsy vehicle for product placement. But clearly, those critics had never seen just how jarring and awkward bad product placement could be. Compared to those disasters, Walter Mitty actually handled its brand tie-ins rather well.
Still, Edward had no intention of remaking Walter Mitty. For one, its tone was closer to The Truman Show—well-rated, yes, but not at all within his preferred horror genre.
The film's protagonist, Walter, was a timid film-negative manager who constantly escaped into elaborate daydreams. He longed for adventure, romance, and success, but in real life he was too introverted to even talk to the woman he liked.
When his company was bought out and his magazine prepared to close, the final cover required the elusive photographer Sean's prized "negative #25." Walter set off on a journey to find it, encountering dangers and wonders along the way.
Through his adventure, Walter grew into a braver, more complete person. He found the negative—and, more importantly, he found himself.
The story was actually short, originating from a brief short story only a few pages long.
"Maybe I should just let the company handle it." Edward stroked his chin, forming an idea. He didn't have time to film it himself—he was busy preparing Ju-On 2. But he could easily hand the project to a company director, keeping a screenwriter credit for himself.
"By the way, Edward, what are you doing collecting so many meteorites lately?" Joseph suddenly asked, breaking his son's thoughts. His gaze carried curiosity but no suspicion. After all, Joseph himself often spent large sums to collect odd-looking rocks. His son buying meteorites wasn't strange to him—it was just pocket change.
"Dad, I went to Sky Pillar recently… and I met Rayquaza." Edward chose not to hide anything. He trusted his own father completely.
"Rayquaza…" Joseph's expression grew complicated, touched with both reflection and sighs. He sometimes regretted the past, but not the decision itself—only the people it had hurt. If given another chance, he would still have chosen to cooperate with the League.
It was that decision which had allowed Devon Corporation to defeat its rival, Great Cosmos Company, and later rise into one of the most powerful enterprises in the entire Pokémon League. That turning point had determined everything.
Business wars were brutal. Cosmos was gone now, its founding family ruined after failed investments. They had left Hoenn entirely. Some hinted they could help Joseph retaliate, but he had refused. He had no interest in striking fallen foes. After all, Cosmos had once pushed them to the brink—without Devon's new energy technology, they would never have recovered.
"A worthy opponent," Joseph thought. That was how he chose to remember them.
"Dad, about the meteorite… I've looked into it. Zinnia and the Draconid people have prophecies. To save Hoenn from crisis, Rayquaza must shatter the darkness. It should mean Rayquaza has to destroy an oncoming meteorite." Edward spoke calmly.
Apologies, but knowing the storyline really did let him do as he pleased. Especially when he was strong enough to back it up.
After his run-in with Team Rocket, Edward had already reported Giovanni to the League. Though there had been no action yet, Edward knew Giovanni's days were numbered. No criminal boss kept his hands clean. Investigate hard enough, and dirt would always surface.
And since Team Rocket had even infiltrated the Jennys' ranks, once the family found out, Giovanni would be in for a harsh reckoning. That alone would keep him too busy to worry about Mewtwo.
"My son… you've really grown up." Joseph looked at Edward with pride. He had thought he alone would shoulder the meteorite problem, but now his youngest son was stepping up too. It warmed his heart. Edward scratched his head in mild embarrassment.
His father, in his good mood, gave him a staggering one billion in funds to buy up meteorites. Edward nearly choked. With just two hundred million, he had already cleaned out almost all of Hoenn's supply. Even Butler Robert had reported that acquisitions were slowing down and had begun extending to other regions. Edward didn't object—if money could solve it, then money it was. Who knew if another region's meteorite might be the key Rayquaza needed?
Still, one billion was overkill. Especially now, with this sudden meteorite literally landing in front of him, Edward strongly suspected this was the destined one.
After seeing his father off, Edward returned to his company. It was time to draft Walter Mitty's script for internal production and prepare The Grudge 2's screenplay. Soon, they would begin filming, and he would harvest fear from audiences once more.
"That one famous scene—I've been looking forward to it for ages." Edward rubbed his hands together.
Ju-On was filled with iconic moments: Kayako crawling down the stairs, Kayako's sudden face-to-face appearances, or her emerging from under the covers. But another scene often came up in discussions too—on a rainy day, in a schoolyard, countless girl ghosts standing outside, climbing windows, trying to get in. That image had left deep impressions.
Edward wondered with amusement—would schools across the League see a wave of truancy after the film? Probably not. The Grudge 2 would almost certainly be rated adults-only. He personally felt kids could handle it—especially with the masterful cinematography's cleansing effect on negative emotions—but he had no interest in fighting the League over ratings.
"Boss, are we making a new movie?" Zoroark asked eagerly. But then its eyes caught sight of the first two words on Edward's script draft: The Grudge. Its body stiffened, and it immediately backed out of the room.
Edward's mouth twitched. "That timid, huh?"
"Fuji! Director Edward wants you for his sequel!" Across town, Fuji's mother excitedly pushed open a door. But just as she did, she froze—seeing a long-haired head slowly emerge from the closet, its eerie eyes gleaming. Her breath nearly stopped.
"Mom! I'm just getting into character!" Fuji snapped. Though she had played Kayako and even scared herself watching the film, when it came to filming, she was utterly serious and professional.
(End of Chapter)