With the rapid growth of Ghost Film Pictures and Edward's rise to fame as a top-tier director, the studio was no longer the obscure little company it once was. These days, there were often people lingering near the building, hoping to get a chance—or even just a glimpse of an opportunity.
Every time Edward got off work, he would see well-dressed young men and women hanging around the entrance or nearby streets.
They were all hoping for that one moment.
After all, if Edward happened to take a liking to one of them, wouldn't that be an instant ticket to stardom?
Edward had built a reputation in the industry as someone who could launch careers.
And when it comes to launching stars, it's practically an art.
Some actors have all the connections and resources in the world. They get roles others could only dream of—but no matter how many projects they do, they remain C-listers at best, constantly criticized by the public.
Meanwhile, certain directors can take a low-budget film and turn an unknown actor into an overnight sensation.
Of course, the quality of the film plays a role, too.
Just like in his past life—one famous actress turned director had chosen a then-unknown actress for her directorial debut, and the film's success turned that actress into a national icon overnight. From there, she began landing roles left and right—a complete reversal of her fortunes.
Edward's own works, like Dead Silence and One Missed Call, had already boosted their leads' reputations. Tom and Jerry needed no explanation—Tom and Jerry were phenomenal stars across the Pokémon Alliance.
Even characters with minor roles—like Merlin, Jerry's magical cousin who appeared in just one episode—had managed to gain a strong fan following.
And where there are actors, there are screenwriters.
Many aspiring writers sent in their scripts, hoping for that one-in-a-million chance that Edward would pick their work—instant fame and a nice paycheck.
However, Zoroark, who was in charge of filtering submissions, had rather high standards.
If a script wasn't good enough, it wouldn't even make it to Edward's desk. That's why, up until now, Edward hadn't come across any particularly promising screenplays.
Today was a rare exception.
Zoroark came in carrying a script, which immediately caught Edward's attention.
"The Dollhouse."
That was the first thing he saw—the title.
Nothing special, he thought at first. Just average.
But as he began reading the script in earnest, Edward's expression grew more and more focused.
Because this script... was actually really interesting.
The story was simple:
A young girl buys a dollhouse—a detailed miniature replica of a real house, complete with tiny furniture, pots and pans.
Just your typical toy for pretend play.
Then one day, the girl discovers something strange:
There's suddenly a ghost inside the dollhouse.
A creepy, unnatural figure that just appeared out of nowhere.
From that point on, whatever happens in the dollhouse starts manifesting in the real world.
Even stranger, the layout of the dollhouse and the little dolls inside mirror her own family exactly.
And with the ghost's appearance come bizarre, supernatural events in her actual home.
It was a very fresh and creative concept for a horror film.
Movies these days—especially in his past life—had grown painfully formulaic.
Hollywood blockbusters often followed the same basic template. Directors and writers worked off blueprints, which made the stories predictable.
Main character starts off happy → conflict arises → they struggle and are defeated → they rise again → confront the enemy → dramatic final battle → everything ends on a high note.
This was especially true for superhero movies, which also loved to throw in things like political correctness and family drama.
That's why niche films like Buried managed to gain traction—they broke the mold and gave audiences something new.
"Even if this world hasn't gotten that formulaic yet… people will eventually start noticing patterns. This script…" Edward looked over the handwritten pages and came to a conclusion.
This screenwriter must be someone who not only works hard, but also values tradition.
In an era where everyone typed their screenplays, handwriting one was rare.
And the script itself?
Fresh. Original. Different from typical horror films.
It had a unique twist—a dollhouse used as a horror device.
In the Pokémon world, dollhouses were popular toys.
Little girls loved to collect and play with them. Some people even treated them as collectibles.
So, to imagine a dollhouse suddenly gaining paranormal properties, with supernatural events leaking into the real world—that was truly fascinating.
"Did the screenwriter say anything?" Edward asked, seemingly out of the blue.
But Zoroark knew exactly what he meant.
"She didn't say much. But she wants to speak with you directly," Zoroark replied, shaking his head.
Edward nodded and told him to bring her in.
Soon, Zoroark returned—accompanied by a young woman.
She looked like she was in her early twenties, though Edward wasn't good at guessing girls' ages.
"You're the screenwriter, Monica White?" he asked, referring to the name on the cover of the script.
It wasn't a common name.
"Yes, Director Edward. I'm Monica White" the girl replied, visibly excited to meet him.
Edward smiled and struck up a casual conversation with her.
She was refreshingly open and direct, and quickly expressed her willingness to sell the script.
However, she had one request.
"…Monica, are you hoping to join my studio?" Edward asked, a little surprised.
He could understand it if it were someone like Daniel, who'd been unknown before.
But Monica, while not a huge name, had already written two films and two television series. In screenwriting circles, she was considered successful.
"Yes, Director Edward. I really want to join your company," Monica replied seriously.
Edward scratched Q's head, thinking.
He didn't really have a reason to say no.
Buying the script outright wouldn't cost much, and bringing Monica onboard would actually be great—his studio's screenwriting team was a bit underpowered right now.
What puzzled him was why she wanted to join.
"Can I ask why?" he asked curiously.
His studio wasn't exactly the industry leader in Hoenn.
(Note: This script is based on a horror movie concept involving a haunted dollhouse with events that mirror real life. The idea originates from the American horror series Creepshow.)
(End of Chapter)
Buried – a 2010 film starring Ryan Reynolds