“Director Vance, the lighting crew, cinematographers, prop department, makeup team, and sound staff are all in position.
The extras have also been found, all the required production paperwork is finished, and the storyboards are ready.” Atlas Vance stared helplessly at the messages filling the Ring production group chat.
Everyone else had completed their assigned work, leaving only one major problem unresolved.
He still didn’t have an actor for Ryuji Takayama.
Over the past several days, Atlas and Emily Brooks had contacted agents, independent actors, and casting representatives throughout Atlanta and Los Angeles.
Almost every conversation ended the same way.
“Ring?
Sorry, our client isn’t interested in horror,” one agent said, while another immediately asked for Atlas’s previous successful films before refusing to continue when he learned Vance Studios had none.
Another agent had practically laughed when Atlas promised the movie would succeed.
“You guarantee a box-office hit?
Based on what?” Atlas eventually ended the call and tossed his phone onto the desk.
In ordinary productions, actors competed desperately for male-lead roles, yet Vance Studios couldn’t seem to give this one away for free.
For a moment, Atlas considered playing Ryuji himself.
Then he remembered Ryuji’s ending.
Sadako scared him to death.
Atlas immediately abandoned the idea.
He looked toward the real Sadako Yamamura standing beside him.
“Forget it.
Let’s get something to eat first.” During the past several days, Atlas had noticed that Sadako could go without food or water indefinitely and show absolutely no physical discomfort, making him briefly jealous of how convenient being a ghost could be.
Atlas eventually brought her to an Asian hot-pot restaurant inside a busy Atlanta entertainment complex.
Sadako still had no legal identity, and Atlas didn’t want too many people paying attention to the mysterious young woman constantly following him before the studio was ready to publicly introduce her.
He therefore had her remain invisible while they entered and found a table.
“Order whatever you want,” Atlas said as he placed his phone on the table and slid it toward the empty chair opposite him.
Sadako stared at the digital menu for several seconds before reaching out and tapping randomly across the screen.
When Atlas took the phone back, he discovered she had somehow ordered ten servings of the restaurant’s extra-spicy broth and ingredients.
Atlas stared at the order.
Then at Sadako.
“So that’s what you want?”
Sadako nodded.
Atlas shrugged.
“Fine.
If you’re determined to destroy yourself with chili peppers, I’m not stopping you.”
The waiter soon arrived with trays of meat, vegetables, noodles, and a violently red hot-pot broth that made Atlas’s throat hurt just by looking at it.
He swallowed, picked up a slice of beef, cooked it briefly, then blew on it before holding it toward the invisible Sadako.
“Come on.
Open your mouth.”
Sadako paused.
No boy had ever casually fed her like this before.
After a brief hesitation, she opened her mouth.
Atlas gently placed the beef inside.
Sadako didn’t experience hunger anymore, but she could still taste food.
The moment the beef touched her tongue, her eyes widened slightly.
Delicious.
[Sadako Favorability +1]
Atlas blinked at the system notification.
He immediately picked up another piece.
“Here.”
Sadako ate it.
[Sadako Favorability +1]
Atlas’s eyes brightened.
So food worked.
He immediately stopped paying attention to his own meal and began feeding Sadako one piece after another.
The reason he couldn’t simply give her chopsticks was obvious: a pair of utensils floating through the air in the middle of a packed restaurant would create far more questions than Atlas wanted to answer.
Several diners nearby eventually noticed his strange behavior.
“Look at that guy,” one whispered.
“He’s feeding an empty chair.”
Another laughed.
“Poor bastard.
He’s probably imagining some beautiful woman sitting across from him.”
Atlas’s hearing was sharp enough to catch every word.
He smiled to himself.
The woman across from me isn’t just beautiful.
She’s dead.
Sadako continued eating whatever Atlas offered her, apparently enjoying the unfamiliar flavors.
At first, the extra-spicy broth barely seemed to affect her, and Atlas became increasingly impressed because two or three bites would already have left him regretting every decision that brought him to the restaurant.
Sadako consumed far more without showing any obvious reaction.
Then something changed.
A strong burning sensation gradually spread through her mouth.
“Hah…
hah…”
Sadako’s breathing became heavier.
Atlas finally noticed her expression.
Her normally pale face had turned bright red, and she was sticking out her tongue slightly while trying to deal with the heat.
Atlas stared.
“No way.”
Sadako glared at him.
“The legendary Sadako Yamamura can’t handle spicy food?”
Sadako immediately opened her mouth again.
Atlas understood the message.
More.
He smiled and deliberately picked up another piece of beef.
Sadako ate it.
Then another.
And another.
This time, however, no favorability notifications appeared.
Atlas was just starting to wonder whether the food bonus had reached some kind of limit when Sadako’s invisible body suddenly flickered.
His smile disappeared.
Her outline appeared for a fraction of a second.
Then vanished.
Then appeared again.
Atlas immediately looked around.
The restaurant was packed.
If a pale young woman suddenly materialized in an apparently empty chair, explaining it away would be impossible.
“Sadako, stop eating,” Atlas whispered.
“Come with me.”
He quickly stood and headed toward the restroom corridor while Sadako followed close behind.
Atlas chose the men’s room because dragging an invisible female ghost into the women’s restroom would create even more problems if her invisibility failed halfway through.
The moment he entered, several men were standing at the urinals.
Sadako floated past one of them.
Then she looked down curiously.
Her head tilted.
Enoki mushrooms?
Atlas nearly stumbled.
“Sadako, get in here.”
Several men turned toward him after hearing the strange command directed at apparently nobody.
Sadako couldn’t ignore Atlas’s instruction, so she quickly slipped into an empty stall before her invisibility completely failed.
Atlas followed and locked the door.
The instant Sadako entered, her body became fully visible.
Her face was flushed, her tongue was slightly out, and her breathing still carried the effects of the brutal chili broth.
Atlas stared at the miserable-looking ghost and found it difficult to connect her with the same supernatural monster who had terrified Samantha Quinn into abandoning an audition.
The stall was cramped.
Very cramped.
Atlas and Sadako were forced to stand almost shoulder to shoulder while ordinary restroom noises and conversations continued outside.
If they walked out together right now, the sight of Atlas leaving a men’s-room stall with a young woman would create an entirely different kind of rumor.
“Can you turn invisible again?” Atlas whispered.
Sadako concentrated.
Her body became translucent.
For half a second, Atlas could see through her.
Then she snapped back into full visibility.
Atlas stared.
“Don’t tell me spicy food is actually your weakness.”
Sadako gave him a murderous look.
Before Atlas could continue teasing her, a man’s voice suddenly came from the neighboring stall.
“Claire, I’m telling you again, I’m not interested in those disposable commercial movies.”
Atlas immediately became quiet.
The man continued speaking into his phone.
“I want roles that actually let me prove I can act.”
A woman’s angry voice was faintly audible through the speaker.
“Daniel Mercer, what gives you the right to be this picky?”
Atlas’s attention sharpened.
“You’re already over thirty, and you don’t have a single movie that’s ever made real money!” the woman snapped.
“I’ve already had the divorce papers prepared.
Just come home and sign them.”
The call ended.
A second later, something slammed against the stall wall.
Everyone in the restroom went quiet for a moment.
Atlas had heard almost everything.
Over thirty.
Actor.
Marriage falling apart.
Desperate for meaningful roles.
That age was almost perfect for Ryuji Takayama, Reiko Asakawa’s ex-husband in Ring.
Atlas thought for several seconds.
Then he lightly cleared his throat.
“Hey, brother in the next stall.”
Silence.
Atlas continued, “I wasn’t deliberately listening to your phone call.”
The silence somehow became more awkward.
“But I happen to be a director, and I’m currently having a serious problem finding the right male lead for my next movie.”
The man next door said nothing for several seconds.
Atlas waited.
Finally, a tired voice answered.
“What kind of movie?”
Atlas smiled.
“A horror film.”
He paused.
“It’s called Ring.”
[Chapter Rewards]