Atlas Vance stood frozen in the bathroom doorway for several seconds, momentarily forgetting that the person in front of him was a genuine vengeful spirit.
Sadako Yamamura had changed into the clean clothes he had given her, wearing an oversized white T-shirt with an old Ghostbusters print across the front and a pair of loose athletic shorts.
Because Atlas was considerably taller than her, the shirt hung almost to her thighs and looked more like a simple nightdress than ordinary clothing.
The difference after the shower was surprisingly dramatic.
Sadako’s previously tangled and damp-looking hair had become smooth and clean, and with most of it pushed away from her face, her delicate features were finally clearly visible.
Her skin remained unnaturally pale, but without the grotesque expression she deliberately used to frighten people, she looked much closer to the nineteen-year-old actress she had once been rather than the terrifying ghost associated with the cursed videotape.
Atlas stared for a little too long before quickly shaking his head and forcing the distracting thoughts away.
“Come on.
Follow me to the guest room,” he said before turning toward the hallway.
Sadako silently floated a few inches above the floor and followed behind him, making Atlas glance back once before deciding that teaching a ghost to walk normally could wait until another day.
After reaching the guest bedroom, Atlas straightened the blankets and moved several boxes away from the bed.
“Sit down here,” he instructed, pointing toward the mattress.
Sadako clearly had no intention of cooperating willingly, but the supernatural contract reacted immediately, forcing her body to lower onto the edge of the bed while she stared at Atlas with obvious resentment.
Atlas ignored her murderous expression and brought over a hair dryer from the bathroom.
He plugged it into the wall and began carefully drying Sadako’s long black hair, working through each section until the damp strands gradually became soft and smooth.
It was unquestionably the first time in his life that he had ever blow-dried the hair of a female ghost, and the absurdity of the situation almost made him laugh.
Sadako remained unusually still while watching the young man standing in front of her.
Throughout most of her human life, the world had given her very few memories that could genuinely be called warm or kind, and one of those rare exceptions had been Hiroshi Toyama from the acting troupe.
Toyama had treated her as an ordinary young woman instead of fearing her psychic abilities, but even that brief happiness had eventually been swallowed by the tragedy surrounding her.
Atlas noticed none of the emotions passing through her eyes.
Once her hair was completely dry, he lightly ran his fingers through the silky strands to make sure no damp sections remained and nodded with satisfaction.
“Much better.
From now on, don’t wander around the apartment at night, don’t crawl into the television whenever you feel like escaping, and don’t go outside frightening random people.”
Sadako gave him an icy look but said nothing.
Atlas took that silence as acceptance and left the guest bedroom, leaving her alone with the neatly prepared bed.
Sadako stared at the mattress for a long time, suddenly realizing that she could no longer remember exactly how many years had passed since she had last slept in a normal bed.
Atlas took a quick shower of his own and finally collapsed onto the mattress in his bedroom.
Everything that had happened tonight still felt like some ridiculous dream: transmigration, millions of dollars in inherited debt, a supernatural system, and Sadako Yamamura sleeping in the room across the hallway.
Unfortunately, tomorrow morning he would officially take control of the failing production company, which meant the debt and business problems waiting for him were very real.
Vance Horror Pictures had almost no usable cash left, yet producing a movie required significant startup funding.
Even if Atlas possessed the script and directing ability necessary to create something exceptional, cameras, locations, crew members, actors, equipment, post-production, and distribution all required money.
Worse still, the company’s terrible reputation made convincing legitimate investors to provide additional funding nearly impossible.
Atlas stared at the ceiling and sighed.
“Maybe I should put a ski mask on Sadako and send her into a bank with an assault rifle.” The ridiculous image of Sadako silently floating through a bank lobby immediately appeared in his mind, and Atlas shook his head.
“No.
That’s definitely how I end up in federal prison.”
Since he wasn’t sleepy yet, Atlas opened the system interface and began examining it more carefully.
Besides the [Contract] function he had already used, another option labeled [Shop] was now available.
He selected [Contract] first and found only one name listed inside: [Sadako Yamamura].
After experimenting with the menu for several minutes, Atlas understood that the function allowed him to inspect information about every supernatural entity he successfully contracted.
It displayed abilities, talents, favorability, physical condition, and even the entity’s current emotions toward him.
Unfortunately, Sadako’s emotional status still consisted almost entirely of resentment and the desire to make his life considerably shorter.
Atlas sighed and opened the [Shop] instead.
A long catalog of scripts immediately appeared before him, including horror classics such as The Grudge, The Shining, Halloween, The Exorcist, and Resident Evil.
There were countless other familiar titles deeper in the catalog, but when Atlas attempted to exchange for one, a notification instantly appeared telling him that his Reputation was insufficient.
He checked the balance at the top of the interface.
[Reputation: 0]
Atlas stared at the number for several seconds before closing the system.
“Of course it’s zero.” With nothing else he could accomplish tonight, he finally pulled the blanket over himself and went to sleep.
The following morning, Atlas gradually became aware of something lightly brushing across his cheek.
Still half asleep, he lazily raised one hand and scratched the itchy spot before slowly opening his eyes.
The instant his vision cleared, every trace of sleep disappeared.
Sadako was floating horizontally directly above his bed.
Her body remained completely parallel to the mattress while her long black hair hung downward around Atlas’s face.
The strands that had been brushing against his cheek were moving gently with the air, and Sadako herself was staring silently down at him without blinking.
“Holy shit!” Atlas jerked backward so violently that he nearly fell off the opposite side of the bed.
His heart hammered against his chest while he stared at Sadako floating above him and wondered how long she had been there.
The possibility that she had spent the entire night silently hovering over his sleeping body made his scalp go numb.
“Sadako!” Atlas shouted while pointing at her.
“Don’t scare me like this again!” Sadako merely blinked before slowly lowering herself, and Atlas suddenly understood that frightening people might be so deeply ingrained in her supernatural nature that she probably considered his reaction completely normal.
After breakfast, Atlas decided that Sadako needed some preparation before he could take her outside in public.
He tied her long black hair back so that it no longer concealed her entire face and used a few basic skincare products to reduce the visibly unnatural paleness of her complexion.
By the time he finished, she looked less like the legendary ghost crawling from a cursed videotape and more like an unusually quiet young woman with an aloof personality.
Atlas initially worried that direct sunlight might cause problems for her, but Sadako stepped outside without showing the slightest discomfort.
He quickly remembered that she wasn’t a vampire and that nothing about her Ring nature required her to hide from daylight.
Seeing her calmly standing beneath the morning sun allowed Atlas to relax, and the two soon headed toward a nearby shopping mall.
Choosing ordinary women’s clothing wasn’t especially difficult because Atlas could simply estimate what would fit her.
The real problem appeared when they reached the underwear section, where Atlas stopped and looked awkwardly between Sadako and the different sizes displayed around them.
Sadako obviously wasn’t going to explain her measurements, leaving him seriously wondering how he was supposed to determine them.
Atlas slowly raised one hand while looking at her.
“Maybe I could just—”
“Hello, sir.
Can I help you find something?”
Atlas immediately pulled his hand back as though he had been caught committing a crime.
A female sales associate had approached from behind with a polite professional smile, and Atlas quickly pointed toward Sadako.
“Yes.
My sister was in an accident and she’s still having some memory problems, so she doesn’t remember her measurements.
Could you help her figure out the right size?”
The employee gave Sadako a sympathetic look and nodded.
“Of course.
Come with me.” She led Sadako toward one of the fitting rooms while Atlas remained outside, feeling slightly guilty about inventing such a ridiculous excuse but deciding it was still easier than explaining that Sadako was a supernatural spirit who had spent years inside a well.
Inside the fitting room, the sales associate pulled out a measuring tape and turned toward Sadako.
The expressionless young woman in front of her already made her somewhat uncomfortable, but she reminded herself of the accident Atlas had mentioned and tried to remain professional.
Just as she stepped closer, the light above them suddenly flickered several times.
The associate frowned and glanced toward the ceiling.
When she looked back down, Sadako had completely disappeared.
The tiny fitting room had nowhere to hide, yet the young woman who had been standing directly in front of her only a second earlier was simply gone.
“What the hell?”
Then movement appeared inside the mirror.
The sales associate slowly raised her eyes and saw Sadako standing directly behind her reflection.
Her long black hair had fallen forward again, completely hiding her face while she stood close enough that the employee could almost feel the cold radiating from her body.
“GHOST!”
The scream echoed throughout the clothing store.
Several minutes later, Atlas sat behind the steering wheel of his car while Sadako silently occupied the passenger seat.
He rubbed his forehead for several seconds before turning toward her with a helpless expression.
“From now on, besides not deliberately frightening me, you’re also forbidden from casually scaring other people.”
Sadako turned toward the window without responding, and Atlas could almost feel her disappointment.
Despite the incident, they had eventually finished shopping, and Sadako had changed into a simple black top, dark jeans, and a light jacket.
With her hair neatly tied back and her expression completely emotionless, she looked more like an extremely aloof young actress than a supernatural spirit.
Atlas glanced at her while driving.
“You actually look like a celebrity now.” Sadako ignored him completely, which only made the comparison feel more accurate.
Not long afterward, Atlas drove through the entrance of Vance Horror Pictures and parked outside the main office building.
The moment he walked inside with Sadako beside him, a large group of employees, managers, contracted actors, and staff members immediately surrounded him.
Judging by their expressions, none of them had come to welcome their new boss.
“Mr.
Vance, the numbers for A Hand Reaching Out of the Toilet are even worse than expected!” one employee said urgently.
“At this rate, we might not even recover the marketing expenses.” Another immediately added that the internet was tearing the studio apart, with viewers openly mocking Vance Horror Pictures and accusing it of dragging American horror cinema down with one terrible release after another.
A frustrated actor named Derek Lawson pushed his way toward the front of the crowd.
“If this continues, whatever reputation I have left is going to die with this company,” he snapped.
“Your father convinced me to sign here years ago, and I’ve wasted some of the best years of my career appearing in movies nobody wants to watch.”
Atlas remained silent while Derek continued.
“The studio is already more than ten million dollars in debt.
Just declare bankruptcy and release everyone from their contracts instead of dragging all of us down with it.” His words immediately triggered another wave of complaints as several actors and agents began openly discussing contract termination and possible lawsuits.
“If this keeps going, we’re taking legal action,” someone shouted from the crowd.
Another actor demanded immediate release from his agreement, while several others began telling their agents to prepare paperwork.
Within seconds, the entire office had descended into angry conversation.
Atlas finally raised his voice.
“Anyone who wants to leave can leave.”
The room gradually became quiet.
Atlas calmly looked across the assembled employees.
“I’m not going to force anyone to remain with a studio they don’t believe in, but everyone who chooses to stay and follow me will become part of the company’s core team once we turn this place around.
If you’re willing to take that risk with me, I’ll remember it.”
Derek gave a mocking laugh.
“Turn it around?
With what money?”
Atlas ignored him and continued.
“There’s one more thing.
Starting today, Vance Horror Pictures no longer exists under that name.” Confused expressions appeared throughout the crowd as Atlas placed his briefcase on the nearest table and opened it.
“From today onward, this company will operate as Vance Studios,” Atlas announced.
“And instead of trying to save the studio by repeating the same garbage that destroyed its reputation, I’m starting over with one movie.
If this company is going to come back from the dead, this will be the film that does it.”
Atlas reached into his briefcase and removed several copies of a screenplay.
He placed the first one on the table.
Everyone nearby leaned forward.
Across the cover was a single title.
RING.