112: Chapter 112 Industrial Heartbeat, Olive Branch and a Vision of Twenty Million

The performance venue in Detroit was chosen to be an immersive theater converted from an Old Automobile Factory. The mottled red brick walls still bore the marks of the industrial era, with towering steel structures exposed, creating a marvelous temporal dialogue with the high-tech stage of the "Echoes and Wavelengths" tour.

Alex Su stood backstage, looking through a gap in the curtain at the audience. Tonight's audience composition was starkly different from Los Angeles or San Francisco—more blue-collar faces in overalls and baseball caps, their eyes carrying the pragmatism and tenacity unique to this "Motor City."

“They aren't here to see a pop idol,” Taylor Swift whispered beside him; her stage outfit tonight was also a leather vest with metallic accents, specially chosen for the occasion. “They're here to hear a story.”

Alex Su nodded. He had adjusted tonight's setlist and arrangements at the last minute. The opening didn't use the explosive electronics of "Radioactive," but instead started with a rhythm reconstructed from industrial samples—the clatter of machine tools, the hum of conveyor belts, the long blast of steam whistles—followed by a spoken-word-style adaptation of "The One I Used to Know" in his deep voice. The themes of alienation and fragmentation in the lyrics resonated in a completely different way in this city that had experienced the throes of industrial hollowing.

When it came to "We Are Young," Alex Su didn't have the whole crowd jumping and dancing. Instead, he slowed down the tempo and added more blues elements, turning the song into a working-class anthem about "rebuilding pride on the ruins." The visuals on the ice screen were no longer abstract geometric transformations, but were interspersed with time-lapse photography of Detroit's urban revival, images of art communities reborn in abandoned factories, and close-ups of workers' grease-stained but firm and powerful hands.

The most moving moment occurred during the encore. Alex Su didn't choose any of his own hit singles, but instead collaborated in an improvisation with a veteran local Detroit blues band to perform "Detroit City," a classic old song about assembly lines, union struggles, and family vigils. He didn't try to imitate the original singer's raspy, weathered voice, but instead used his own clear yet respectful tone, complemented by Taylor Swift's plaintive harmonies, giving the song new life.

When the performance ended, the applause wasn't frantic, but it was exceptionally long and heavy. Many middle-aged audience members had tears in their eyes, while the young people looked pensive. This wasn't just simple entertainment consumption; it was a cultural mutual affirmation.

Backstage, the local promoter—a silver-haired former automotive engineer—gripped Alex Su's hand firmly: “Son, you've read the soul of this city. Thank you for not treating it as just another 'tour stop.'”

Alex Su simply replied with a smile: “It was this city that gave me inspiration.” He signaled Marcus to donate a portion of the night's proceeds to a local non-profit foundation supporting retraining for laid-off workers. After the news was posted on the "Voice of Truth" platform, it once again won public acclaim and respect.

Meanwhile, preliminary contact regarding that military-background performance collaboration was unfolding under the cautious advancement of Lauren and Marcus. The other party sent a very concise "Inquiry of Intent" through an encrypted channel provided by Organization D, requiring Alex Su's team to provide:

1. A preliminary creative concept for a 90-minute customized performance (themes must revolve around "Honor, Sacrifice, Technology, and the Future").

2. Authorization for security background checks for core team members.

3. Proof of capability to perform a technical demonstration at a designated confidential location.

4. A preliminary budget range.

“The conditions are harsh, but the posture is professional,” Lauren analyzed. “They don't mention who the specific audience is, or the exact time and place, but they are willing to pay for 'concept' and 'capability.' This feels more like... selecting a supplier rather than inviting an artist.”

“Then respond according to the standards of a top-tier supplier,” Alex Su said during a video conference on the tour bus. “Taylor Allison and I will lead the creative concept, incorporating the spiritual core of 'sands of the return journey,' but the visuals should be more futuristic and grander. As for the security check, we'll all cooperate, but we require the other party to clarify the scope and standards, and they must not infringe on unrelated privacy. Technical demonstration... once we tour to the East Coast, we'll find time to clear a weekend and build a scaled-down stage system for them to see. Budget?” He paused. “Quote them three times our top commercial performance rate. Tell them this fee includes exclusive creative copyright, customized technical R&D, and the highest level of confidentiality commitment.”

“Three times?” Marcus took a sharp breath.

“For certain clients, the price itself is a manifestation of threshold and sincerity,” Alex Su said calmly. “If they truly have 'no budget limit' as Organization D said, they won't care. If they do care, it shows this isn't a job we should take.”

Lauren nodded and took notes: “I'll package the pricing strategy to be convincing. Also, the other party hinted that if a collaboration is reached, it might involve adaptability adjustments in 'special environments,' such as performing in non-standard venues, with limited preparation time, or even with some equipment restricted.”

“This is exactly the time to test our 'emergency literacy,' isn't it?” Alex Su thought of that bolt in Chicago and smiled. “Reply to them: adaptability is one of our specialties.”

Breakthrough progress came from the "city of instantaneity" project. After two weeks of continuous hard work with the "Neuromancer" team, the first "Time Trace" effect demo clip reaching 4K cinema-level precision was born. Sophia Chen sent over a piece of raw footage without any color grading: in a close-up, when the actor was emotionally agitated, there really seemed to be a faint pulse of light under the skin, with the light changing subtly with breathing and heartbeat, a texture that was both biological and digital, eerie and beautiful.

“The people at Neuromancer are going crazy,” Sophia Chen couldn't hide her excitement on the phone. “They say this technology of real-time bio-signal driven shimmer rendering could even be applied to high-end medical monitoring or next-generation human-computer interfaces. Their investment enthusiasm is soaring now, and they've offered to share more of the R&D costs, just so the movie can be the 'debut flagship showcase' for this technology.”

“That's good.” Alex Su was also shocked as he watched the demo on his tablet. “But be sure to clarify in the cooperation agreement: the movie has exclusive debut rights and full copyright for this technology in the entertainment field; Neuromancer has commercial development rights for the technology in other fields but must pay us a licensing royalty; 'Echo Vision' retains the right to use this technology for free in all future film and television projects.”

“It's already being negotiated,” Sophia Chen said. “Also, the casting director has found several suitable candidates for the lead roles, all of whom are talented newcomers. Are you interested in looking at their profiles?”

“Send them to me; I'll find time to look. But my main concern is that the visual language must drive the narrative, not the other way around,” Alex Su emphasized. “The actors must be able to blend into this 'uneven time' world, not just perform in it.”

---

On the self-media front, Alex Su's management was becoming increasingly sophisticated. After the Detroit show, he didn't post any glamorous stage photos; instead, he updated a short column on the "Voice of Truth" platform titled "Heartbeat of the Rust Belt," with photos of details he captured while walking through the old industrial area before the show: graffiti on the walls, rusted Gears, small potted plants on windowsills, and a silhouette of an old worker sitting in front of his door soaking up the sun. The writing was plain, yet it captured the complex texture of the city where scars and resilience coexisted. The column was quickly reposted by several local media outlets and even sparked discussions among some sociologists.

On his personal account, he kept things light. He posted a funny video of himself learning to play a classic riff from an old gentleman in the Detroit blues band backstage (he intentionally played a few wrong notes and was "shooed away" by the old man), with the caption: “Master class tuition: one barbecue meal. #StudentForever”. The lighthearted humor dispelled the heaviness of the column and maintained the multi-dimensional nature of his persona.

The tour bus drove through the night toward the next stop, Cleveland. Most people in the bus had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. Alex Su put on noise-canceling headphones and pulled up the system interface.

【Influence Event Settlement】

• Detroit stop deep cultural resonance performance and targeted donation (Deepening social influence)

• Substantial progress in military cooperation intent (Demonstrating professionalism and pricing strategy)

• Key breakthrough in "city of instantaneity" visual technology (Innovation value highlighted)

• Precise layered operation of self-media content (Maintaining heat and depth)

【popularity Acquired: +2,880,000 points】

【Current Available popularity: 6,240,030 points】

(Historical Cumulative: 54,240,030 points)

Looking at the more than six million available points, Alex Su's gaze once again turned to those new ability options priced in the tens of millions. Especially [Presence Masking (Basic)] (requires 40 million points) and [Cognitive Acceleration (Temporary)] (requires 55 million points). The former would greatly enhance his freedom of action and safety in the real world, while the latter would push his already efficient creative and decision-making abilities into the superhuman realm.

He knew that to reach these goals, the steady growth brought by the current tour, movies, and platform operations was considerable but not "explosive" enough. Perhaps that military performance would be an opportunity? Or when "city of instantaneity" was released with its subversive visuals? Or perhaps he needed to create the next "big event" himself, like the global live-streamed improvisation?

A thought quietly sprouted in his mind: when this global tour ended, perhaps it shouldn't just conclude with a grand performance. Maybe it could be turned into an "immersive experience event" that fused music, technology, and social issues, occurring simultaneously in multiple cities around the world, completely breaking the boundaries of traditional concerts.

That would require amazing creativity, technology, funding, and coordination. But if it could be done, its influence—and the popularity converted from it—would be phenomenal.

Alex Su turned off the system interface and took off his headphones. The bus drove steadily; outside the window were the endless dark plains of the Midwest, with occasional lonely farm lights flashing by.

Within him, the power exchanged for twenty-eight million points, enough to briefly break free from physical laws, lay dormant.

In his mind, the blueprint worth tens of millions of points, leading to even more incredible realms, was slowly unfolding.

And in reality, the wheels of the tour rolled forward, cooperation opportunities continued to emerge, and creative ambition continued to burn.

All of this required resources—secular money and influence, as well as extraordinary "popularity."

He closed his eyes and began to sketch the vague outline of that "Ultimate Tour Event" in his mind.

The corners of his mouth curled up unconsciously.

This game was becoming more and more interesting.