“Ring?
Where did this script come from?” one of the actors muttered while looking at the screenplay Atlas Vance had placed on the table.
“The title sounds decent, but the story is probably just as terrible as A Hand Reaching Out of the Toilet.” Similar whispers quickly spread through the office, and Atlas frowned as he listened to employees openly mocking his first project.
Although Atlas was technically the owner of Vance Studios, almost nobody here respected him yet.
Today was his first official day in charge, the company was buried under more than ten million dollars of debt, and everyone believed bankruptcy was only a matter of time.
While the crowd continued discussing him as though he weren’t standing there, Atlas glanced toward Sadako and silently thought, Sadako, make them shut up.
A cold wind suddenly swept through the office.
Every person present shivered at the same time as goosebumps rose across their skin, and the noisy room became completely silent within seconds.
Atlas looked at Sadako in surprise, realizing that the contract didn’t require spoken commands at all; if he issued an order mentally, she could understand and obey it.
Seeing that everyone had finally quieted down, Atlas calmly picked up the screenplay.
“Vance Studios hasn’t declared bankruptcy yet.
Anyone who breaks a valid contract still has to deal with whatever termination provisions apply, and if you want to sue the company, you’re free to do that.” Without waiting for another argument, he turned around and walked into the president’s office with Sadako following silently behind him.
Atlas lowered himself into the same chair his father had once used and immediately frowned.
The company’s situation was even worse than he had expected, and the enormous debt wasn’t something he could simply ignore.
If a large number of actors and employees actually started legal disputes at the same time, the remaining company funds could disappear before he even began shooting Ring.
He needed startup capital as quickly as possible.
Atlas pulled out his phone, searched through his contacts, and called one of his closest college friends.
“Hey, Ryan.
I need a favor.” Before he could continue, the man on the other end sighed and said, “Atlas, I already know you’re calling about money.
My dad won’t lend anything to Vance Studios.
Sorry.”
The call ended.
Atlas stared at the screen for two seconds before dialing another number.
“Marcus, remember when I helped you finally get a date with Jessica back in high school?
Well, I’m in a little trouble now…” After that call failed, he tried someone from middle school, reminding him about the semester Atlas had defended him from a bully, then another childhood friend whose stolen baseball cards Atlas had once recovered.
Atlas worked his way through almost every useful number he could find.
College friends, high-school classmates, middle-school buddies, elementary-school friends, and even people he had known as a little kid all received calls.
By the time he finally stopped, Atlas had managed to borrow a grand total of $250.
He stared at the amount in disbelief.
“So much for lifelong friendship.”
Everyone had once called him a brother, yet now that Vance Studios was drowning in debt, most of them avoided him as though bankruptcy were contagious.
Atlas was considering who else he could possibly contact when a breaking-news alert suddenly appeared on his phone.
[BREAKING NEWS: Prominent local billionaire critically injured in major traffic accident.
The entrepreneur, whose fortune exceeds $100 billion, is currently undergoing emergency treatment at St.
Catherine Medical Center.]
Atlas’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Sadako, we’re leaving.”
He locked the Ring screenplay inside the office safe and hurried downstairs with Sadako following behind him.
Once they were inside the car, excitement gradually replaced the frustration he had felt only minutes earlier.
The system information he had studied last night showed that Sadako possessed an ability labeled [Healing].
Atlas also remembered the events of Ring 0: Birthday.
When Sadako was still human, her psychic abilities allowed her to heal Hiroshi Toyama simply by touching him, and she later helped a disabled man regain the ability to walk.
If her supernatural powers had become stronger after death and were further supported by the system, Atlas suspected her healing ability might now be far beyond what she had possessed while alive.
A serious car accident suddenly didn’t sound impossible to fix.
Even if the billionaire had one foot in the grave, Atlas was willing to gamble that Sadako could pull him back.
They soon arrived near St.
Catherine Medical Center’s emergency entrance.
News vans and reporters crowded the surrounding area while police officers and hospital security struggled to keep the entrance clear for ambulances.
Atlas remained inside the car for a moment and turned toward Sadako.
“I’ll need your cooperation.
We’re going to use your healing ability on someone.”
Sadako frowned.
Her expression made her opinion perfectly clear.
She preferred killing humans, yet Atlas was now asking her to save one.
Atlas sighed.
“It’s for our movie.”
Sadako continued staring at him.
“For our great horror-film career,” Atlas added.
Her resistance weakened slightly.
“Go invisible first.”
Sadako’s body immediately became translucent before fading almost completely from ordinary sight.
Atlas could still faintly perceive her through their contract, but to anyone else the passenger seat would appear empty.
Since Sadako had no legal identity, birth certificate, passport, Social Security number, or any reasonable explanation for suddenly existing in America, keeping her out of official records was essential.
Atlas pulled on a black face mask, sunglasses, and a baseball cap before leaving the car.
He followed several people entering through the emergency department and acted like a worried relative until he managed to slip inside.
Once they were past the entrance, he mentally issued another command.
Sadako, electromagnetic interference.
The nearby security cameras flickered.
One after another, their feeds failed.
Atlas had studied Sadako’s abilities carefully the previous night.
Her electromagnetic interference could disrupt electronics around her, making it perfect for temporarily disabling surveillance cameras without physically destroying them.
With the cameras out, Atlas moved deeper into the hospital and quietly asked around until he learned which operating room contained the billionaire.
When he reached the correct hallway, however, he immediately saw another problem.
Several large bodyguards stood outside the operating room alongside worried relatives and assistants.
There was no realistic way for Atlas to simply walk through them without creating a scene.
He sent the invisible Sadako forward first.
Sadako.
Illusion.
A subtle psychic disturbance spread through the hallway.
The bodyguards, relatives, nurses, and nearby staff gradually developed unfocused expressions, each of them seeming briefly disconnected from what was happening around them.
Atlas immediately walked past the dazed group and pushed through the operating-room doors.
Inside, the atmosphere was grim.
“The patient has lost too much blood.
We’re losing respiration,” a doctor said urgently while watching the monitors.
Another physician checked the readings before his expression darkened.
“No heartbeat.
We’ve done everything we can.”
The heart monitor became a flat line.
Bang!
The operating-room door suddenly opened.
Everyone turned toward the mysterious young man wearing sunglasses, a mask, and a baseball cap.
“Who are you?” the hospital director demanded.
“Are you related to the patient?”
Atlas ignored the question and stared at the flat line on the monitor.
He had originally considered having Sadako cloud the doctors’ minds too, but quickly changed his mind.
If nobody witnessed what happened next, convincing the billionaire that Atlas had genuinely saved his life would become much more difficult.
Besides, every nearby camera had already been disabled.
Atlas’s face was covered well enough that the medical staff shouldn’t be able to identify him easily, and if the billionaire survived, a man that powerful would probably understand why keeping supernatural abilities secret was in his own interest.
Publicizing the existence of a ghost capable of miraculous healing would bring government agencies, reporters, corporations, and countless desperate people straight to his door.
Atlas walked to the operating table and placed one hand against the billionaire’s body.
Sadako.
Healing.
The doctors exchanged confused looks.
The hospital director mistook Atlas for an emotionally overwhelmed family member and stepped closer.
“Sir, I’m very sorry.
We did everything medically possible, but—”
Atlas didn’t answer.
His eyes remained fixed on the patient’s face and the monitor.
Then the billionaire’s deathly pale complexion began changing.
Color slowly returned to his skin at a speed visible to everyone in the room.
The hospital director stopped speaking.
One minute later, the flat line on the heart monitor suddenly moved.
Beep.
A curve appeared.
“What…?”
The director ripped off one glove and rubbed his eyes as if he couldn’t trust what he was seeing.
The other physicians immediately rushed back toward the monitors and began checking every reading again.
Three minutes later, one of the medical assistants stared at the equipment in disbelief.
“Blood pressure normal!”
Another reading appeared.
“Heart rate normal!”
The assistant swallowed hard before checking the final monitor.
“Breathing normal!”
Silence filled the operating room.
Every doctor present stared at the patient as though the dead man on their table had just performed a miracle.