The Red Dragon Lord is OP, but Insists on a Pop Culture Invasion!

"Hey! Look what I brought back!"

In room 327, building 1 of the female dormitories at Repin Spellcaster Academy, Galina struck a proud pose in front of their door.

As the top Magic school in the Sutton Kingdom, even the basic student dorms were two-person rooms.

"What kind of junk did that guy give you this time?" her roommate Uffie asked without looking up, completely absorbed in her practice problems.

She was preparing for the Magic Wand Cup Inscription Competition. In the preliminaries, some unknown Wild Mage had outranked hundreds of students from prestigious academies like hers, so the pressure was on.

"What do you mean, ’that guy’? He’s my boyfriend, you know!"

"Does he know he’s your boyfriend?"

"Of course! He gave me two of the most sought-after premiere tickets for *Holy Mountain Journey*. Do you have any idea how much these tickets are being scalped for right now?"

Galina pulled two shimmering, golden tickets from her expensive, handmade bag.

"But, as your best friend, you were naturally the first person I thought of sharing them with. So, what do you say? Let’s go to the Cowboy Theater tonight and see the Shadow of Evil."

"Are you *really* just trying to share?"

"Of course!" Galina said, her gaze drifting toward the window.

"Don’t worry, I’ll carry you on the group project." Uffie was about to refuse, citing her competition prep, when she suddenly glimpsed the Rune on the Shadow Demon Ticket.

Many theaters engraved Runes on their tickets for authentication, and the Rune on this particular ticket was from the Illusionist she admired most—Furin Uman.

’Her interest was immediately piqued. Studying should be balanced with rest, and I have to see anything Teacher Furin was involved in.’

"Let’s go. Just let me get ready."

"You said yes! This is great!"

...

Outside the Cowboy Theater, a long-lost prosperity had returned.

Carriages crowded the street in front of the main entrance, and all sorts of vendors had gathered, hoping to get a piece of the pie.

"I found a snack I’ve never seen before," Galina said, running over while holding a paper box. "It’s called popcorn. I can’t believe they actually let you bring food inside."

Uffie tried a piece of popcorn. It was sweet with a pleasant, grainy aroma. Quite good.

"You have no idea. When my family took me to the theater as a kid, there were so many rules. You couldn’t even think about eating, and you’d get scolded for just sneezing or coughing."

The audience members filed in one after another.

As soon as they entered the hall, the difference from a traditional theater stage was obvious. There was no scenery, only a giant screen hanging down from the ceiling.

Furthermore, the hall was much darker than a playhouse. It was so hard to find your seat that someone even cast a Lighting Technique.

A staff member was using an Amplification Technique to repeatedly announce the precautions: "All light sources will be extinguished after the film begins. Please do not panic. During the screening, please refrain from using the Lighting Technique, as it may affect others..."

The two-thousand-seat theater quickly filled up, and the entire hall was plunged into darkness.

Then, an image appeared on the screen.

Chrysanthemum Street, shrouded in night. Through a thick fog, four Griffins pulled a carriage at a gallop.

On the carriage, a man was communicating urgently via a Sound Transmission Spell: "What do you mean all the Healing Potions from the Kurman Potion Factory are defective?"

Many in the audience recognized the person on screen.

"Isn’t that Master Soron?"

"That’s him! He came to my academy to give a speech at my graduation."

A sudden impact cut off the audience’s whispers, and they grew tense along with the plot.

Uffie recognized it as the Sub-Dragon from Zog’s Toy Store.

’Now she was truly interested in this Shadow of Evil. How on earth did they get a Sub-Dragon to perform the required actions?’

The following scene, where the Sub-Dragon turned into a zombie, genuinely scared quite a few people.

Uffie wasn’t scared, but Galina, in her nervousness, grabbed her arm so tightly it hurt. She was surprisingly strong.

The plot slowed down, showing the male protagonist’s domestic life and his reasons for taking his daughter to the Holy Mountain.

But after the terrifying opening scene, the slice-of-life plot only made the audience more uneasy, wondering when this "bomb" would finally go off.

’A clever move.’

Uffie realized this wasn’t an art form that relied solely on visual spectacle; it actually had a solid dramatic foundation.

And once the zombies appeared on the train, wave after wave of climactic moments followed, leaving the audience breathless.

From that point on, the theater was never quiet again. Gasps, screams, and uneasy intakes of breath rose and fell in waves.

Uffie, too, was swept up in the story’s emotions.

She felt tense when the main group was separated from their loved ones, worried as they passed through zombie-infested cars, and overjoyed at their reunion.

But when the main characters were blocked from entering a safe car, the emotional build-up reached its peak.

’Why?’

’Why, after fighting through so many hordes of the dead, were they being blocked by their own kind?’

Her extensive reading experience told her that this was the point where someone was supposed to die.

’It’s just a common dramatic technique, so why do I feel so uneasy?’

When the young boy began slamming a Magic Ball against the dividing door and the Half-Beastman used his body to hold back the zombies, she grew furious.

She began to hate the character in the story—the high-level executive from the Potion Factory who incited the others not to open the door.

She even transferred her anger to the real-life Kurman Potion Factory. The Kurman Healing Potion, which had once represented good value for money, now seemed somewhat disgusting to her.

’I’ve made up my mind. From now on, I’ll spend a little extra to buy Healing Potions made by someone else. It’s not that much more expensive anyway, and it’ll be worth it for the peace of mind.’

Beside her, Galina had already been on the verge of losing control when the Half-Beastman was holding the door. When he spoke his unborn daughter’s name before dying, she, like many others in the audience, simply burst into uncontrollable sobs.

Uffie understood. Starting today, the age of theater was over. Perhaps it wouldn’t die out completely, but it would definitely be forced into the unglamorous corners by the Shadow of Evil.

She watched as the old goblin grandmother chose to open the car door, choosing to perish together with the group of apathetic people. Faced with such a bloody and cruel scene, she felt a sharp sense of satisfaction.

The two hours flew by. Not a single second of the Shadow of Evil had felt boring.

’It’s even better than I expected.’

’Maybe after graduation, I could also become an Illusionist who creates Illusions for the Shadow of Evil, just like Teacher Furin.’

At the end of the film, the male protagonist recalled the birth of his daughter, smiled as he turned into a zombie, and fell from the train.

As a father, the last act of his life was still to protect his daughter.

The film didn’t show the father’s fall directly, only a shadow disappearing between the rapidly receding railroad tracks, carrying with it a kind of sorrowful romance.

Galina was already sobbing uncontrollably, almost unable to breathe.

Uffie wanted to comfort her, to say it was just a story, but as she was about to speak, she found that her own voice was trembling. At some point, warm tears had begun to trace paths down her face.

The film ended abruptly as the last two survivors stopped before the checkpoint at the Holy Mountain.

One by one, names appeared on the screen, so detailed that even the name of every zombie actor was included.

This was treatment that would never be seen in traditional theater, where bit-part actors, even during the final curtain call, were merely lost in the crowd, serving as background props.

The lights came back on. The audience members rose to their feet one after another, giving a sustained round of applause. Even if they weren’t sure the creative team was present, it was the praise this work deserved.

At that moment, however, a furious roar shattered the harmonious atmosphere in the theater.

"Look! It’s that bastard from the Potion Factory! Don’t let him get away!"