Creating Anime In A Fantasy World

Chapter 241: The Premiere of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure! (Part 3)

Time trickled by. Across the South, as well as in the East and West, theaters were already filling with crowds.

No one really knew what kind of story JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure would tell. But from the looks on their faces, nearly everyone was brimming with anticipation.

The East and West, however, were another matter. For audiences there, who had never once seen a film before, the very concept of a “movie” was alien. They stepped into the theaters with puzzled expressions, unsure of what to expect.

Their attitude was clear: JoJo was cheap, laughably so compared to the silver-priced Song of the Vampire. Surely it couldn’t amount to much. It wasn’t something to take seriously.

And yet—whether skeptical or hopeful, all waited in silence for the screen to light, for the story to finally begin.

. . . . .

The Imperial Capital — the Royal City.

Unlike the calm festivities of the other four territories, the capital’s new year celebrations were always a grand spectacle. The Empire’s Annual Grand Ceremony, the rotating orchestras and theater troupes—pageantry and music filled every street.

For royalty, nobility, and wealthy merchants alike, this was a season with no shortage of entertainment.

But to Emperor Hubbard, such things held little appeal. A man who had lived his life on the battlefield, he much preferred the edge of a blade to poetry and song.

So when Edward sent him an imaging crystal containing a brand-new film, the old Emperor wasted no time. He put aside every matter at hand, gathered only his closest confidants, and stepped into a sealed chamber to watch.

“Your Majesty, you summoned me?”

General Wilhelm’s confusion was plain, but Emperor Hubbard only chuckled, gesturing to the crystal resting on its stand.

“Baron Durin has outdone himself. I suspected he would seize the chance to release a new film with the East and West opening their markets—but to send me a copy directly? Hah. A fine gesture indeed. I would call it the rarest kind of New Year’s gift.”

“I see…”

The general smiled faintly, though inwardly he was surprised. He knew the Emperor enjoyed films, but to hear him praise one so highly—higher, even, than the famed deep-sea diamonds gifted by a Grand Duke—was unexpected.

But that was the Emperor’s nature. He had never cared for gaudy treasures, preferring the plain and practical. And when something carried genuine thought and sincerity, it would earn his heartfelt approval.

Thus, with only his youngest daughter, General Wilhelm, and a few handpicked guards, Emperor Hubbard ordered a court mage to channel mana into the crystal. The chamber fell into silence, awaiting the movie’s first flicker.

. . . .

The Durin Tavern.

While preparations were complete all across the Empire for the New Year’s premiere, Edward himself had only just shaken off the weight of exhaustion.

Looking up, he saw the members of the tavern gathered eagerly, crowding around the tables with impatient eyes fixed on him. They needed no words—their anticipation was palpable.

With a wry smile, Edward wasted no time. He pulled out a spare imaging crystal, setting it up for display in the tavern.

“So… what’s this one about?”

Zat couldn’t help blurting the question aloud.

Edward’s answer was calm, almost casual.

“It’s a story about vampires.”

“Vampires?”

The room stilled. None of them had expected Edward to pick such a familiar subject.

After all, even in the South, vampires were creatures etched deep into common imagination.

In the long-forgotten Old Era, there had even been countless rumors—ordinary folk claiming to have witnessed pale monsters lurking in the night.

Of course, in the modern day, such tales had long since become nothing more than ghost stories, whispered urban legends no one truly believed.

And yet, here was Edward, choosing that very myth as the heart of his newest film.

But from across the room, a soft voice suddenly cut in.

Latisha, who no one had noticed slipping in, spoke slowly after hearing that word:

“Vampires… Once upon a time, the Empire truly was plagued by those creatures. They clashed with the Church constantly, their battles painting the land in blood. But then—after one particular incident—they simply vanished. Not a single vampire has been seen in the Empire since.”

“What incident?”

“…I’ve forgotten.”

“…Seriously?”

The entire tavern fell into silence, expressions twisting between disbelief and exasperation at Latisha’s reply. No one could tell if she was playing dumb or genuinely had no idea.

After all, even Belldia, with his five centuries of unlife, had only ever heard vague whispers. The vampire legends stretched back over a thousand years—far too ancient for ordinary folk to know the details.

Edward, however, couldn’t help but recall the one who still lived in the South: Arcueid. Instinct told him that whatever happened back then must have been connected to her.

And yet… he couldn’t quite reconcile the idea. Arcueid had no reason to slaughter her own kin. At least, that was how it should be.

In the end, he abandoned the thought and turned his attention back to the tavern screen, where the first images had begun to flicker into view.

At that instant, accompanied by the swelling murmur of the gathered crowd, the film JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Part 1 finally began its premiere.

. . .

The movie opened on a desolate mountain path, shrouded in darkness and lashed by pounding rain.

“Look—over there! A carriage went off the road!”

A filthy old man and a young woman scrambled down the slope. At the bottom, they found a carriage smashed beyond repair, wrecked by a landslide. A nobleman lay beside it, limp and unmoving—seemingly dead.

“Master, the woman inside is gone… but the child survived. She shielded it with her own body to the very end.”

“A child? Who cares about that? Forget the brat, just grab whatever’s valuable!”

Grumbling, the old man pried a ring from the noble’s hand and kicked open a nearby chest. Inside lay a bizarre mask—its contorted design so unsettling it sent a chill crawling down the spine of every viewer in the audience.

“Tch. Creepy junk. I don’t want it.”

He tossed the box aside and bent down again, eager to strip the corpse bare. But then—the noble suddenly stirred, gasping as though dragged back from death itself.

“You… were you the one who saved me?”

The old man flinched, caught off guard, but held his tongue.

The noble, barely conscious, croaked another question—his wife, his son… what had become of them?

From the bandit’s lips came the half-truth: his wife had died shielding their child. At those words, grief wracked the man, but through tears he managed to compose himself.

“…My family name is Joestar. You saved my life… and I shall repay you. While I still draw breath, tell me—what is your name?”

Realizing the misunderstanding, the old man’s eyes gleamed. He straightened and said smoothly:

“My name… is Dario Brando.”

“I see. Then, Mr. Brando—know this: the Joestars will forever be in your debt.”

The moment the words left his lips, a peal of thunder split the heavens.

On the ground, the discarded chest stirred. Blood had splattered across the mask within—and now, with a sudden, unnatural motion, it jerked upright, contorting into a shape that made every viewer shiver.

Snap!

The sound rang sharp and clear, like a clock striking midnight.

The tolling of fate had begun.