Re-written date: 7 / 13 / 2025
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Chapter 36: The Premiere Begins!
Evening settled over Nosrick City, and the Central Plaza gradually came to life.
Children who had just finished dinner were playing tag across the open square, laughter echoing under the dimming sky. Couples strolled hand-in-hand along the paved paths, moving at a lazy pace. Street performers wheeled out their carts, unpacking props and instruments in preparation for their nightly shows.
This was a world with magic, yes—but the reality for most people was far removed from the thrilling tales of epic adventures and dragonslaying quests. For the average citizen, life was simple. Ordinary. Even mundane.
In contrast to Edward's previous world, where the internet made entertainment constantly accessible at one's fingertips, the people here had few ways to pass the time. Children, with their boundless imagination, could still make games out of sticks and stones. But adults? Once the day's work was done, all they had left was a slow evening walk or aimless conversation in the plaza.
But tonight… Nosrick City felt different.
Something was coming.
A cart rolled into the plaza, pushed by a small team of workers. Mounted atop the cart was a large square of white cloth, stretched and secured like some sort of strange banner. Walking behind it, with a calm and focused expression, was a blond-haired boy—Edward Durin.
Most people didn't recognize him, but they did recognize the uniforms worn by the men with him.
"Hey, aren't those guys from the Nosrick Grand Theater?" someone muttered, puzzled.
"What are they doing here?" asked another.
The Grand Theater was a place most commoners never even dreamed of entering. Tickets were expensive, and it catered to nobles, scholars, and the elite. So seeing their staff here in the open plaza was like seeing a king shopping in a street market.
Edward didn't offer an explanation. He didn't need to. With practiced motions, he pulled out a glowing memory crystal—the one he had carefully edited earlier—and walked toward the cart. He positioned it carefully at just the right angle, channeled magic into it…
And the white cloth came alive.
The people watching didn't know what to expect. They'd never seen anything like it before. But as the crystal activated and the first frame projected onto the cloth, the entire plaza fell silent.
A vivid, moving image sprang forth—a montage of flashing lights, epic music, striking characters, and action scenes. It wasn't real, and yet it felt so real. There were people talking, things exploding, spells casting. The very air seemed to buzz with unfamiliar energy.
For a few long moments, nobody spoke. Everyone was too busy staring, mouths agape.
Then—
"Wh-What was that?!"
"Did that cloth just... move?"
"No, wait, the images were coming from that thing!"
"Mom! What is that? It looked so cool!"
Edward's magic-infused movie trailer had officially dropped—and it hit like a thunderbolt.
The plaza, moments ago a scene of peaceful boredom, now exploded with noise. Excited voices rang out from all directions. Children clung to their parents, begging to go see more. Adults who'd once scoffed at the theater found themselves curious, even eager.
"What's that thing called again? The... Nosrick Grand Theater?"
"It has to be expensive, right?"
"Maybe… but just going to check it out can't hurt, right? I've never seen anything like that before in my life…"
Edward stood quietly behind the cart, watching the chaos unfold. He didn't need to say anything—he'd already won.
Just to be safe, though, he gave a small signal behind his back.
From around the plaza, several individuals casually stepped into the crowd. These were adventurers from the guild—people who had already seen the test screening earlier in the week. They had volunteered to help spread the word, playing the part of enthusiastic audience members.
"Man, you have to go watch it! That explosion spell scene was insane!"
"The goddess character is hilarious. I haven't laughed that hard in years."
"And that villain? Creepy in the best way. The whole thing's genius!"
Sure, Edward knew the movie could eventually sell itself on its own merit—once enough people saw it, word of mouth would take over. But if these adventurers were willing to help speed things along, then why not let them?
As the crowd continued to gather around the projection screen, Edward could already see it happening—the spark had been lit.
The people were hooked.
And the age of cinema in this world… had just begun.
And the reason those adventurers were so enthusiastic about helping? It wasn't just loyalty to the guild or even kindness toward Edward.
No—it was the thrill of being first.
They were the first audience to ever witness a movie. And now, standing amid the crowd, they had a chance to flaunt that privilege. Their excitement came from the desire to boast a little, to feel superior, or to simply share something amazing they'd experienced before anyone else.
Some might call it smugness.
Edward didn't mind.
In fact, he welcomed it.
That night, across the Nosrick City, three different locations were alive with the same energy. In the Central Plaza, the Grand Market, and even the so-called "Street of Pleasures," crowds were gathering, wide-eyed and whispering excitedly after seeing the mysterious moving images projected by glowing crystals. The trailer for KonoSuba had done its job—people wanted to know more. They had to see this thing called a "movie" for themselves.
...
One of those people was a young man named Joseph.
He was just a regular guy. Like many others born and raised in Nosrick City, he had once dreamed of becoming a great adventurer—maybe even a hero whose name would be sung by bards. But reality had other plans. Pressured by his family and the limitations of his birth, he had ended up working as a part-time staffer at the Nosrick Grand Theater. Not glamorous, but stable.
That evening, Joseph showed up for his usual shift, expecting the same old quiet, slightly boring routine.
But something was off.
Very off.
The entire front stage—normally reserved for dramatic, high-profile performances—had been dismantled and hauled outside. The props and decorative pieces, once handled with obsessive care by Viscount Baniel himself, were now tossed around like junk near the entrance.
For a moment, Joseph genuinely thought the theater might be going out of business.
But then he saw the crowd.
The theater's front steps, usually quiet at this hour, were absolutely packed. People were lining up. Talking. Laughing. There was… excitement?
"What the…? Wait, I don't remember any troupes scheduled for today…"
His confusion mirrored that of the other night shift staff. None of them had been briefed on what had happened earlier in the day. It wasn't until the supervisor started shouting names and organizing the crew that they began doing what theater staff do best—managing the chaos.
Joseph helped direct foot traffic, eyes occasionally drifting to the gathering crowd. Something about it felt strange.
Then it hit him.
It wasn't the usual faces. The wealthy ladies in extravagant dresses, the snobby nobles with monocles and silk gloves—they were nowhere to be seen. In their place were ordinary townsfolk. Commoners. Farmers. Shopkeepers. Laborers. All of them had flocked here, and none of them had ever set foot inside the Grand Theater before.
He heard the murmurs. Bits and pieces of conversation floated past him.
"Supposedly, they're showing some new kind of performance tonight."
"Something called… a 'movie'? Ever heard of that?"
"They said it's only five coppers. I figured, why not?"
Five coppers? That stunned Joseph more than anything. Normally, a ticket here cost five silver coins, an absurd amount for most families. Now, the pricing system has been flattened—no premium seats, no VIP boxes. Just one price for everyone.
It was as if the theater had thrown its doors wide open to the entire city.
Shaken but curious, Joseph did something he'd never dared before.
He grabbed a spare ticket under the guise of "supervising" the event.
The truth was, like many others, he was dying to see what all the fuss was about.
In the past, he'd occasionally snuck into empty seats to watch stage plays, but they never held his interest. Long monologues, complicated symbolism, and confusing plots had made him drowsy more than once. After falling asleep in his seat the first time, he hadn't bothered trying again.
But this ticket was different.
It didn't say admit one or first balcony. It had just one word written boldly across the top:
Movie Ticket.
Joseph stared at it for a moment, then walked quietly into the auditorium and found a seat in the middle of the main floor.
Somewhere inside, a flicker of anticipation stirred.
Something told him this night would be different.