On the third floor of the toy store, an entire wall was covered with a black curtain.
In front of it, there was a black-painted wooden frame with a crest drawn on it, but in the middle, a round hole had been carved, just large enough for Zuo Ge's head to fit through.
On the opposite side, the undead camera was already set up.
Aisha gave a thumbs-up, signaling that everything was ready. "Three, two, one, action!"
Zuo Ge tilted his head to the left, "Roar—" then tilted it further left, "Roar—" and blinked.
"Cut."
Aisha reviewed the footage and suddenly felt that Zuo Ge looked quite cute.
This opening sequence was the one Zuo Ge remembered the most, bar none. The reason? When he was a child, he always had to wait for that lion to roar a few times before Tom and Jerry would appear.
He couldn't even recall which company's logo that opening belonged to, but the lion remained in his memory forever.
When it came time to make the opening for Journey to the Sacred Mountain, it was only natural for him to think of it. The Zuo Ge Studios logo was Zuo Ge himself—how fitting.
With the opening sequence done, the next step was the list of staff members at the end of the credits.
He grabbed a long roll of black paper, then hired a professional scribe to write down the names and positions.
Yes, there are still professional scribes who can write so neatly, it looks like it's printed. It's more cost-effective when demand isn't that high.
But it was easy to predict that as printing technology developed, the cost of printing a sheet would soon fall to a fraction of the cost of handwriting, and these scribes would likely lose their jobs.
Perhaps they could pivot to writing on irregular objects, like ship names, or turn to calligraphy as a new path.
The art world, too, was seeking transformation under the impact of photography technology, from the exaggeration and simplification of comics to the abstract, anti-realism experiments influenced by Freylen.
The pressure was on, and once they succeeded, Zuo Ge would have a place to recruit animators and graphic designers.
He also wanted to take on everything himself and create various forms of art, but his skills were limited. History was never something any one person could create.
After hanging up the list of names, he rolled one end onto a drum and completed the rolling credits in the most primitive way.
Zuo Ge shamelessly wrote his own name for the director, screenwriter, etc. After all, no one in this world knew anything about Earth.
Aisha was especially excited. She had her name listed as the assistant director, and she used record magic to imprint that part of the paper and sent it to her mother along with the letter.
The simple tasks were done, but the real torture came next.
Editing.
They didn't even have a computer, let alone Premiere, Final Cut, or editing software.
Although the magical crystal stones contained magical wave data, without any digital processing tools, Zuo Ge could only use magic to slice it, then reconnect the pieces.
The editing process was as literal as the word "cut."
Unlike the rough cuts from before, the final film needed precision, but the data in the magic crystal couldn't be slowed down. Zuo Ge had to use acceleration magic on himself.
Even though his magic resistance was high, the acceleration took its toll, and he had to stop and rest every now and then.
While Zuo Ge had his dragon head hanging out of the window to relieve the dizziness, Xin 104 returned.
"The great master," the goblin said, bowing in formal attire.
After arriving in Twin Towers City, the goblins had undergone the most noticeable transformation among Zuo Ge's subordinates, evolving from evil beasts in the underground caves to high-intelligence creatures capable of crafting goblin technology.
"How's the situation?" Zuo Ge asked weakly, feeling like the ground was spinning.
"The distribution of the steam curse outbreaks is irregular, but the owners of these factories are all closely tied to the church."
"Hm?" This answer caught Zuo Ge by surprise. He had assumed that someone was withholding offerings from the church, and the church had a secret organization that targeted those who didn't pay protection fees.
"What about treatment? Have the doctors figured out a way to cure those in the refugee area?" Zuo Ge continued to inquire.
"Most doctors believe the steam curse is incurable. A few have subtly suggested that they can't treat it, but the church regularly conducts exorcisms, with a few cases of recovery, so the royal family has entrusted the church with handling it."
Zuo Ge could understand that. Saving the suffering and earning the most devout followers would be a good reason, though it was unclear where the suffering actually came from.
Was the church really going to such lengths just to expand its number of followers?
Zuo Ge doubted it. If they wanted followers, it wouldn't be hard—hand out some eggs, flour, and cooking oil, and there'd be a line at the church.
"However, there's a doctor in the refugee area who says he can try studying the steam curse and has already found volunteers for the experiment."
"That's great. What does he need? We can provide financial support."
"No, master. He says he doesn't need money, only a safe place."
Hearing this, Zuo Ge raised his head from the windowsill. Now it was getting interesting.
He thought for a moment and instructed Xin 104, "Contact the orc Drow and…"
The rain began to fall in Twin Towers City, turning into a mix of mud, waste, and rotting grease as it reached the refugee area, giving off the familiar scent of decay for the doctors.
"Knock knock!" came a dull knock at the door.
He tightened his bird-beak mask, put on his top hat, grabbed a large package, and told the patients inside the room, "Let's go, the ones who are picking us up have arrived."
He opened the door, and two towering orcs stood there.
"Doctor?"
"Yes."
"Name?"
"Just call me Doctor."
"Good name, Waraxe likes it. Other human names are too hard to understand."
"Where are we going?"
"Dragon Island."
"Which Dragon Island?"
"Dragon Island is Dragon Island."
"Which dragon is your master?" The doctor didn't react much. His situation had already become so dire that it couldn't possibly get worse.
"Zuo Ge."
At the mention of this name, the patients following the doctor gasped.
"Don't be afraid. Zuo Ge is the best dragon."
"Have you seen other dragons?" another orc interjected.
"No, but Zuo Ge is the best dragon."
"You're not being precise."
"Waraxe's axe is precise!"
"Wait," the doctor interrupted the two orcs who were about to argue. "Is anyone following us?"
"Of course. Several Drow are hiding on the rooftops. The goblin said Waraxe isn't careful enough, but Waraxe can protect you!"
No matter who that goblin was, I thank him, the doctor thought.
"Then let's go."
In the rain, a small boat set sail from the port.
Sailing with the east wind for more than two hours, the sky began to darken, and the coastline was no longer visible.
Suddenly, a flash of white lit up the sky, and a moment later, thunder rumbled, accompanied by a blue light that struck the boat.
The light gradually dimmed, and a warrior in pure white heavy armor stepped out, holding a warhammer engraved with magical runes.
"In the name of the goddess, surrender now, and you will be granted rest."
Half a minute passed, but there was no response.
"This is your choice. May the goddess forgive my slaughter."
The warrior didn't wait any longer. He raised his warhammer and charged. In an instant, the entire boat cabin shattered.
No one?
Under the helmet, the warrior's eyes became alert. He was about to step forward to inspect, but then he noticed the seawater was rising up to his feet.
The boat was leaking—an ambush!
The warrior hesitated for no longer, immediately pulling out a teleportation stone and chanting the incantation.
However, the stone flickered twice and then dimmed.
He raised his head sharply. Lightning illuminated the night sky, and a fishman priest stood at the bow, holding a short staff that upheld a magic barrier.
A magic-sealing beacon?
Why did the fishman have such advanced magical equipment?
There was no time for reflection. The warrior turned and dashed in the other direction, trying to escape the range of the barrier.
However, blue claws with webbing began to climb up the sides of the boat, and the fishmen surrounded him from all directions.
If this were on land, he would be confident in breaking through the encirclement, but this was at sea.
The water had reached his knees, and the fishmen weren't in a hurry. The sea would eventually swallow him.
There was no time left.
The warrior raised his warhammer once more, muttering a prayer, and launched his final charge at the fishman priest...