60. A Beaming School Trip
60. A Beaming School Trip
A command had come down from the imperial household.
They wanted to turn the location where we filmed the double-track drift into a tourist attraction.
What caught me off guard, though, wasn't that the command itself was impossible—it was just baffling.
In fact, I'd seen a case a lot like this in my previous life.
Even back in a world where they blew up real planes for crash scenes and flooded entire schoolyards to film a ship sinking, actually shooting with a real train had been surprisingly rare.
A train weighed at least a few dozen tons, which meant it couldn’t be filmed off the tracks—and the tracks were public infrastructure.
You couldn't exactly wreck tracks built with taxpayer money just to make one movie, so cases that used a real train could be counted on one hand.
But "could be counted on one hand" also meant that, put another way, it did happen.
There was a film where they bought private land with disused tracks and a broken-down train and actually shot on them.
It was about a framed surgeon who escaped while being transported to prison and set out to prove his innocence. In that film, when the protagonist broke out, there was a scene where a train rammed into a prisoner transport vehicle.
While other productions were shooting train sequences using CG or trucks dressed up to look like trains, this one brought in a real train, so it was only natural that the scene was hailed as the greatest train sequence of all time.
The problem was what came after, though.
After filming that one scene, the train had derailed, the bus was wrecked, the forest was a disaster area, and the tracks had been turned into tatters.
In short, the place was a complete mess.
And the production crew's response to this whole situation—
Absolutely nothing.
The smashed train and bus, the ruined tracks, and even the devastated forest.
They chose to leave all of it exactly as it was, do nothing, and walk away.
And, astoundingly, that choice turned out to be a success.
The film became a massive hit, and countless people began visiting the site on what they called a “pilgrimage.”
Mere heaps of scrap metal had been elevated into a tourist commodity.
- 'How happy must the landowner have been when his worthless land suddenly became a tourist attraction? Ah, my family’s got plenty of land like that too. If only someone would film a movie there.'
A soldier from that region had explained all this to me when we were deployed for the North Carolina zombie disturbance, and the story had been so entertaining I still remembered it.
The memory was so deeply etched into my mind that, just in case, I'd deliberately skipped the cleanup after this shoot. But I'd never dreamed it would actually become reality.
Fortunately, the Duke hadn't cleared away the wreckage yet, so if I went over there and just touched things up a little, the site itself would be ready.
The real problem was what kind of narrative to give that train wreck. No—before that, the first thing was how to focus people's attention on it at all.
There were various ways to go about it.
I could drop a hint about the location during an interview, or I could do a collaboration with a specific trading company and reveal it outright, the way I'd done with John 0.
But whichever method I chose, the most important thing was to make viewers "spontaneously" seek the place out.
A pilgrimage site wasn't something an actor or director forced on people—it was a place fans gathered and created on their own.
If I gave even the faintest sign of overtly promoting the location by any means, people might actually refuse to visit it out of sheer contrarianism.
If I had to make a comparison, it was like needing to run an indirect advertisement or a viral marketing campaign.
I ran through the options I had at my disposal.
Most of those methods could turn the site into a pilgrimage destination, but they were either too direct or, if indirect, took far too long.
I was still wrestling with that balance between time and efficiency as I walked through the Duke's territory when a certain hotel entered my field of view.
"...What's that place?"
<Pebble Hotel>
It was the hotel belonging to the trading company that had sponsored us when I filmed the sommelier and chef scenes.
After the movie had been released, they'd held an event letting people experience those scenes so they could feel the romantic spirit of it all, and I still had a vivid memory of the trading company head's complaint—or complaint-that-wasn't—that once the event started, people were after the custom wine far more than the lodging service.
I'd been too swamped with shooting Mari after that to keep in touch. But judging by the line in front of the hotel, even three months after John 0, the craze showed no sign of cooling off.
'They even just up and moved the tailor shop right next door.'
Originally the tailor and the hotel were both owned by the same trading company but were often in separate locations because of the different customer bases. Now, though, the event had practically become their identity, so it looked like they'd simply relocated the tailor next to the hotel.
The people coming out of the shop looked like adventurers or mercenaries, yet every one of them wore a suit. Anyone watching would’ve thought they were the mafia.
'That trading company head really does have a knack for business.'
There were people who couldn't pull off a deal even if you handed it to them on a silver platter, and rowing when the tide came in was a skill in itself.
From the looks of things, there clearly wasn't any need to reach out to her separately.
Right as I was about to turn back and return to my deliberations, an idea flashed through my head.
Before putting the idea into action, I contacted Nikolai to verify one thing.
[Hello?]
"Hey, it's me. That appearance by Riv. Did you ever reveal which actor played him?"
[Uh... We listed him as a luchador, so no, we haven't made it public?]
Originally, Wrestle Kingdom people volunteering for monster roles in Magical Mari had largely been for promotional purposes.
That was why, whenever an episode ended, they'd always put the wrestler who performed the monster into the ending credits. But in Riv's case, I was the one acting the part, and I hadn't let them announce who the actor was.
If I'd let them stick my name in there for no good reason, it would just create another clue linking Big Evil Wolf to me.
So my original plan had been to leave Riv as a luchador until the day Magical Mari finished its run. But because of the idea that had just come to me, I'd changed my mind.
Thing was, barely a week had passed since I'd caused that mess, so getting Nikolai's okay before acting on the idea took priority.
I hid the fact that this was a command from the imperial household. Once I explained that, for certain reasons, I had to turn the train wreckage into a tourist attraction, and laid out my idea, Nikolai gave his permission without hesitation.
[I don’t know the circumstances, but I think that’ll be fine. The studio’s probably going to get quite a bit noisier, though... Well, it’s already been chaotic ever since we brought Diane on board, so I’ve more or less resigned myself to it.]
Once I had Nikolai's permission, I thanked him and contacted someone else.
"It’s been a while. There’s something I’d like your help with... Yes, this is the Karamzin branch... Yes... Ah, thank you."
After getting the trading company head's approval, I secured the Duke's final sign-off as well.
"Do as you see fit."
With even the Duke's approval granted, I made my way to the hotel—not right that instant, but the next day.
Early in the morning, before the restaurant had even opened, I walked straight past the people lined up out front, heading all the way to the very front of the queue with a free pass.
People started to object, demanding to know who was cutting in line—but the moment they saw my face, they froze on the spot.
- What's this? Is it some kind of event?
- What's the occasion today?
Amid a pleasant buzz of attention and murmuring, I waited for the restaurant to open.
Before long—about five minutes earlier than usual—the restaurant's doors opened.
But I was the only one granted entry.
Under the crowd's gazes, I headed toward a counter I'd never seen before, situated next to the existing one.
There, a female employee with an air of considerable experience greeted me.
Then the voice-amplification magic installed at the counter and the filming equipment set in the chandelier projected the images of myself and the employee onto the sign above the hotel.
Conscious of the filming equipment in the ceiling, I deliberately made myself clearly visible to the crowd, slid two gold coins across the counter, and recited a familiar line.
"Do you have a sommelier and a tailor?"
"Regrettably, they have not yet arrived for work, Mr. Armstrong."
"By when can they be ready?"
"I shall have it arranged by lunch today."
A cheer went up from the people outside the hotel.
=============
News of John’s sudden appearance at the Pebble Hotel spread like wildfire through the Karamzin Duchy.
At any other time, John’s appearance would still have thrown the Karamzin Duchy into an uproar.
As it happened, this was exactly when Hetairo Academy’s Hero Department was visiting the duchy on a school trip.
For students wholly absorbed in making special memories on their school trip, word of John's appearance was a big event they simply couldn't afford to miss.
Students who had been scattered all across the Duke's territory making their own memories began to gather at the Pebble Hotel.
As they converged on the hotel, countless speculations about this event flew back and forth among the students.
- This has got to be a miracle the chief god arranged just for us!
- I heard that among the Pebble Hotel branches, this one just produced ten thousand custom wines—could that have something to do with it?
- Maybe, since John is a Hetairo Academy alumnus, he prepared this event for his juniors?
- Could he be trying to drop a hint about John 3?
What awaited them after they gathered at the hotel with all those speculations was the news that John had already finished breakfast and left.
"Aww..."
The students, crestfallen at the news, began to turn their steps away.
Each time, the female employee who had attended to John would stop them and share a piece of information.
"Now that I think of it, Mr. Armstrong did say he would be staying at the hotel and taking his meals here for the time being."
Though she couldn't possibly tell them his room number, it was something she could at least say, and the employee consoled the students with it.
Hearing that, the students either checked into the hotel, holed up in a nearby café, or decided they might as well experience the event while they were there—each finding their own way to wait for the restaurant's lunch hour.
Then, at exactly five minutes before noon, John appeared out of nowhere and, just as he had in the morning, crossed the entrance and headed toward the counter.
And the two people's conversation manifested as a holographic image above the hotel's signboard.
"Do you have a sommelier and a tailor?"
"The sommelier is available."
"And the tailor?"
"I shall have him ready by this evening."
John nodded and, with the employee's guidance, went inside.
The instant John vanished from the footage, the crowd let out exclamations of admiration.
But before long, the location in the footage switched from the counter to a familiar wine bar.
The sommelier inside wasn't Peter, but he still had more than enough presence to carry the air of a true professional.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Armstrong. Have you been well?"
"It has been a while. Would a tasting be possible right now?"
"But of course. Will you be having the course meal?"
"Yes. Four courses, if you please."
Soon enough, the very scene previously seen only in the film played out live above the hotel.
Fully equipped, John disappeared from the screen with a request that the items be delivered via room service.
And then the screen transitioned back to the counter.
And before he left the hotel, the employee at the counter called John to a halt.
"What time shall I tell the tailor?"
John took a single glance at his watch—
"Six o'clock."
—and then he exited the hotel and vanished without a trace.
The students, who had been breathlessly watching this real-time event, once more enjoyed themselves sightseeing around the hotel until six o'clock arrived.
And when six o'clock came, John revealed himself again.
Just as with the sommelier, the tailor greeted John and took his measurements.
But the conversation between the two was wholly different from what had appeared in the film.
"My apologies for the delay, Mr. Armstrong. I was told you asked for me. I wanted to come at once, but I had business elsewhere today, so I am late."
"It's quite all right. I'm the one who dropped in without notice."
"Thank you for understanding. So, for what manner of attire have you sought me out this time?"
"I'll need something to wear by nine o'clock tonight. Is that possible?"
"Of course. Shall I prepare it for a party, as always?"
"No. It's for work."
"Would this workplace happen to be somewhere you receive guests?"
"Yes."
"And when do you plan to wear it?"
"I'll need to wear it tonight. It's a private occasion, but I'm scheduled to meet with official guests."
"I see. Will it be a public setting?"
"No."
"Then you'll be needing a hat to avoid the sunlight."
The tailor held a length of fabric up to John's head and cut it into the shape of a hood.
After that, just as in the film, the tailor recorded John's detailed requirements and then explained the lining material.
The only difference was at the very end. Instead of saying he would send it to John's room in a few days, the tailor asked him to wait a moment and disappeared into the workroom.
And in five minutes, he presented the finished garment before John.
John handed over gold coins, stepped into the changing room, put on the clothes, and came back out.
The clothes he wore were not his usual black suit—they were a uniform.
John inclined his head to the tailor and headed for the exit.
The camera was installed at the door, so as he neared the exit, John's figure caught in the frame grew steadily larger.
Just as the screen was about to be filled entirely with John, he grasped the door handle and stood stock-still, as though something had just occurred to him.
And then, from within his coat, he took out a mask.
A pure-white skull mask, engraved with the sigil of the "Twilight Council."
"!!!"
People were so stunned by the scene that they even forgot to scream. The skull-masked John left the hotel and headed somewhere.
Unlike at breakfast and lunch, this time his trail didn't break off midway—it continued all the way to the train station.
And only when he reached Platform 17, from which the Ignos Train had departed, did his trail vanish.
People knew full well what this meant.
The very next day—no, even before midnight on the day of the incident—countless people were already following John's traces.
The trail led to a place where there were tracks no longer in service, due to the danger of rockfalls.
Those who ventured to a place no one would normally have spared a glance saw:
A heap of earth and sand spilled by a landslide.
A smashed escort train.
And beyond the collapsed mountain path, straddling two tracks—the skeleton train.
*
Immediately after John made his appearance in the Karamzin territory, John's agency, the Temple of Play and Amusement, issued a statement as though they'd been waiting for the moment.
"To forestall any confusion, let us state clearly: the John Armstrong Series and the Magical Girl Series do not share the same fictional universe.
"This is merely a promotional event for a role played by the actor John, so please do not misunderstand."
Several times over, the temple emphasized that this was not a collaboration or a shared-universe integration, but merely the actor John appearing in a different production.
Yet people showed a remarkable lack of interest in the temple's announcement.
Every ounce of their attention was fixed on John—no, on the man named Riv.
People lavished praise on the trail he had blazed, single-handedly breaking a prisoner free from a train.
'That's right! If it's John, it has to be at least this!'
That, right there, was why the image of the actor playing the role mattered so much.
In time, John's devotees—mainly students from Hetairo Academy and people in suits like John's—followed his traces and gathered at the heap of train wreckage.
Once they’d experienced John’s—no, Riv’s—prowess and returned to boast about it, the word of mouth that began that morning had the area around the duchy buzzing before noon.
Guides with a quick eye already incorporated the filming site into new tour packages.
And that was how the pilgrimage site came to be.
All of it had happened less than sixty hours after Allen received the order.