Edward spent more than ten minutes listening quietly to Thomas's entire life story. When Thomas finally finished, Edward merely sighed softly. There wasn't much emotional fluctuation in his expression — just a calm acknowledgment.
It wasn't that he was heartless, but rather that he had already heard too many stories like this before.
Over the years, Edward had witnessed countless tragedies of similar nature — men and women broken by circumstance, luck, or society. It might sound cold, but this was the truth of life: full of uncertainty and regret. These regrets weren't exceptions they were simply parts of the human experience.
Edward himself had once watched colleagues forced to swallow their pride bowing their heads and smiling obsequiously as the boss showered them with scolding and humiliation.
That day, as he looked at his colleague and then at his own reflection in the mirror, he finally understood what that old saying truly meant:
"Only the years of youth retain a faint fragrance; adulthood is an ugly struggle."
"Thomas," Edward said, rubbing his temples, "I can understand your situation. But you need to know one thing — I've always been someone who values acting above all else. And to be honest, your acting… really isn't up to par."
He didn't sound harsh, only matter-of-fact. Lately, Edward had realized that he had grown somewhat detached — not cold-blooded, but… indifferent.
He had seen too many tragedies. There were countless stories more miserable than Thomas's — stacks of them stored in the archives of the Prayer Wall Foundation.
Each application form there contained enough pain and despair to make even the greatest authors in the world fall silent, because these weren't fictional tragedies — they were all real.
Thomas lowered his head, ashamed. He knew it himself, his performance was poor, far below expectations. The critics had said so. Even the acting coaches he studied under told him bluntly that his skill was mediocre at best.
"So, here's my decision," Edward said seriously. "For the time being, you won't take on any new projects or appearances. I'll give you a full year go enroll in a film academy, study properly, refine your craft. During that time, I'll take care of your mother's medical expenses, and you'll receive a contract that allows you and your parents to live comfortably. But this support only lasts for one year. After that, it's up to you."
Thomas blinked in surprise. He had expected Edward to capitalize on his current popularity — to push him into more appearances and milk his fame for quick profit. But instead, Edward was telling him to pause, to train, to improve. It was… unexpected.
"Any objections?" Edward asked, frowning slightly.
Thomas shook his head immediately. Seeing that, Edward nodded faintly and dismissed him. Thomas's issue seemed to be settled though in truth, it wasn't. The online controversy surrounding him still had to be handled.
The internet was fickle; every day brought a new scandal or headline. But even so, public attention didn't just vanish overnight. Figuring out how to use this ongoing buzz to further elevate Ghost Films was a serious task. Fortunately for Edward, he was the boss — such troublesome matters weren't his responsibility. He simply assigned the task to the public relations department.
As for himself, Edward returned home, planning to finally rest. The filming of Sherlock Holmes Season 3 had worn him out physically and mentally.
He barely managed to collapse onto his bed, hugging Q and preparing for a nap, when he noticed something strange outside the window — a plump, purple-black shadow pressed against the glass, staring right at him.
Edward's mouth twitched. Of course.
He got up, walked to the window, and opened it. Instantly, Gengar slid into the room like a puddle of liquid shadow.
"Boss Gengar, what brings you here?" Edward asked, surprised. Gengar was not the type to come to crowded places. Not because he was timid, but simply because he disliked being around too many humans.
"I was worried you'd forget about me if I didn't show up," Gengar said, looking pitifully at him.
Edward felt a bit guilty. It was true — he had been so busy filming lately that he'd completely neglected Gengar.
To make up for it, he poured the ghost a cup of Fear Juice, which immediately lifted its spirits. As Gengar happily slurped the drink, Edward sat down nearby, studying him curiously. He knew this ghost well — Gengar never visited without a reason.
Sure enough, Gengar cleared its throat awkwardly. "Ahem… Edward, I have something I need your help with."
Just like in those adventure movies — when someone you haven't seen in a while suddenly shows up at your door, it's never for a casual chat.
"What kind of problem could you possibly not handle?" Edward asked with genuine curiosity, not mockery.
After all, he was only speaking the truth.
As a Apex Pokémon — a so-called "Overlord Pokémon" — Gengar enjoyed privileges and protections from the League. The League often helped Apex with issues they couldn't resolve alone. In return, when the League faced major crises, the Apex were expected to lend assistance. It was a fair exchange of mutual benefit.
Of course, not all Apex liked dealing with humans. Those who preferred isolation were simply left alone, though the League would never stop brave Trainers from attempting to challenge them.
"It's not that serious," Gengar said, waving a hand. "You know how it is. When we Pokémon get older, we start to have… feelings. Like wanting someone to take care of, or someone to keep us company."
Gengar coughed, glancing aside shyly.
Edward listened for a while, then sighed inwardly. He was half-convinced this ghost had lost its mind again.
Still, according to Gengar's own logic, once Pokémon grew old, they began to crave the same emotional fulfillment as humans — the desire to care for someone or have a companion. Edward wasn't sure if other Pokémon felt that way, but clearly, Gengar did.
"So… what you're saying is, you adopted a child?" Edward blinked, scratching his ear. For a moment he thought he'd misheard. The image of Gengar and adopting a child simply didn't fit together. Even Q, who had been half-asleep beside him, suddenly sat up straight, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"That's right! Well… maybe not exactly 'adopted.' I found this little one half-dead and saved her," Gengar said proudly, puffing out his chest.
Edward raised a brow. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued now. What kind of Pokémon could possibly make Gengar the infamous prankster ghost — decide to become a caretaker?
And apparently, this little Pokémon even had a dream of her own.
"Come in, Little Luna!" Gengar called toward the window.
Edward and Q both turned to look, full of curiosity. But the window remained utterly still. Not a sound, not a flicker of movement.
For a moment, Edward wondered if Gengar was hallucinating. Gengar's expression turned slightly awkward, and after a moment of hesitation, it floated over, reached outside the window, and gently pulled something in.
A small, white-and-green figure emerged.
"A Ralts?" Edward blinked in astonishment. "Wait — the 'Little Luna' who wants to become an actor… is a Ralts?"
He looked from the timid Ralts to the grinning Gengar, incredulous. Gengar immediately nodded.
Ralts seemed shy, almost ready to teleport away at any moment. But with Gengar beside her, she stayed put, obediently standing still. Edward was speechless.
Of all the Pokémon he might have imagined Gengar adopting — maybe a Gastly, or a Haunter — a Ralts was the last thing he would've guessed. The contrast was absurd.
Ralts an adorably popular Psychic-type Pokémon, often considered a dream partner for many Trainers. They were small, graceful, and empathetic, evolving eventually into the elegant and beloved Gardevoir.
But Ralts were also sensitive, easily frightened, and shy around strangers. While not quite as reclusive as Abra who teleported away at the slightest sign of danger — Ralts still preferred to avoid unfamiliar people.
Now, Edward finally understood why the little one hadn't dared to show herself earlier. But what surprised him most wasn't her timidness it was her ambition.
This tiny, fragile Ralts — Gengar's so-called "Little Luna" dreamed of becoming a movie star.
"Yes, that's her," Gengar said proudly. "Her eyes are special. You'll understand when you see them."
Gengar gave Ralts an encouraging look. After a moment of hesitation, Ralts nodded. Gengar carefully brushed aside her bangs — revealing a mark on her forehead shaped like a crescent moon.
It wasn't exactly a scar, nor a birthmark but something in between. The curved shape made it look like a delicate small moon hanging above her eyes.
Edward's eyes flickered thoughtfully. He seemed to realize something.
"Is it because of this… mark?" he asked, pulling out his phone. He scrolled through his gallery and stopped at a photo of a Gardevoir. He showed it to Little Luna.
The moment Ralts saw the image, her eyes lit up. She nodded rapidly, looking visibly excited.
So that was it.
Edward couldn't help but smile wryly.
When he heard that Ralts wanted to become an actor, he had immediately thought of someone — Kalos Champion Diantha.
Diantha had a Gardevoir that was both her battle partner and a film celebrity one of the most famous Pokémon actresses in the world. Clearly, Little Luna idolized that Gardevoir and dreamed of following in her footsteps.
"Who's this?" Gengar asked curiously, pointing at the photo.
Edward tossed him the phone. "You can read for yourself."
Then he sat back, deep in thought. Was it possible to actually make this Ralts's dream come true?
In the Pokémon world, Pokémon actors weren't rare at all. In fact, they were integral to the entertainment industry. The most popular film genre had always been Trainer movies — stories about ordinary kids starting their journeys, bonding with their Pokémon, and battling their way to championship glory.
Edward honestly couldn't understand why audiences never got tired of them. How many times could they watch the same "boy and his first Pokémon" story? Yet somehow, every remake still drew massive crowds.
Still, because of that demand, there was always a shortage of Pokémon actors. Every species imaginable had registered performers in the entertainment database.
The rarest and most sought-after, of course, were Legendary and Mythical Pokémon actors.
If Edward were ever willing to let Groudon star in a film, producers would easily pay over a hundred million for a single appearance — no questions asked.
After all, it was a Legendary Pokémon!
That was like someone in his previous life offering to lend out an actual Chinese dragon for a movie — every director in the country would go insane.
But a Ralts? That was… complicated.
The more beloved a Pokémon species was, the fiercer the competition became. Ralts were immensely popular, which meant there were already countless Ralts registered as actors — most starring in trainer adventures or romantic dramas where they served as emotional anchors between the human leads.
Those roles had been done to death.
If they wanted something fresh, it had to be something different.
Edward suddenly thought of a classic movie from his previous life — Hachiko: A Dog's Story.
Both the Japanese original and the American remake had touched millions of hearts, earning rivers of tears. But as Edward thought about adapting it for Ralts, he hesitated.
Strictly speaking, Ralts wasn't a pet — it was a sentient being, a supernatural creature.
A loyal dog waiting every day for its dead owner was heartbreaking but believable. But a Pokémon especially a Psychic-type like Ralts doing the same would seem… off.
People perceived Psychic Pokémon as highly intelligent. Having one act out blind, unreasoning devotion might even feel unnatural or contrived.
It would make more sense for a Growlithe to play that role instead.
So, the Hachiko story wasn't impossible, but it wasn't suitable for Ralts.
Then what was suitable?
Edward frowned, rubbing his chin as he sifted through the library of stories in his mind. What kind of story would fit a being like Ralts — fragile, emotional, and gifted with telepathy?
Gengar, noticing his serious expression, didn't interrupt. He simply sat quietly beside Little Luna, whispering softly to her. The little Ralts leaned against his shadowy body, clearly comfortable in his presence.
Q, sitting off to the side, watched them curiously — glancing from Gengar, to Ralts, then to himself — as if silently wondering what all this meant.
(End of Chapter)