12: Chapter 12 Before scaling walls and rooftops, first settle the insurance issue.

The "toy" Eric sent arrived—a palm-sized, unremarkable black cube.

Alex connected it to his phone according to the instructions, and as soon as he opened the test app, his face on the screen was so clear he could count his eyelashes.

He tried waving his arm quickly; the image was as steady as if by magic, with no distortion in the background.

"This thing is actually pretty good," he muttered, fixing the ultra-compact action camera onto the dedicated chest mount.

It was light, almost weightless.

Perfect.

With the equipment ready and skills in his arsenal, Alex rubbed his hands together, ready to get started.

He had long had his eye on an old industrial area downtown, filled with abandoned warehouses, crisscrossing fire escapes, staggered platforms, and back alleys where a few stubborn, old-fashioned neon lights flickered at night—it was practically a natural set for urban Parkour.

But just as he was planning the specific route and moves, the newly acquired knowledge of [Urban Environment Parkour (Mastery)] popped up in his mind like an internal navigation system, constantly flagging risks: "Risk assessment: There is unidentified broken glass in the landing zone for this move; cleaning or avoidance is recommended." "Structural assessment: The target wall shows signs of weathering and peeling; exercise caution with load-bearing." "Route planning: The optimal path from Point A to Point B requires incorporating the flickering rhythm of the neon light at Point C at 23:07 to enhance the visual drama."

That wasn't all; the knowledge of [Basic Martial Arts Form and Aesthetic Power Generation] joined in as well.

When he conceived a simple wall-run backflip, it automatically optimized his power sequence and aerial posture: "Knee angle can be adjusted by 3 degrees to increase initial takeoff speed; aerial tuck should be tighter to present a 'bullet leaving the chamber' sense of lines; land with the toes first, follow through with knee flexion to absorb the impact, imagine you are a feather."

Alex: "..."

It felt like having a strict martial arts coach and safety consultant living in his head.

Fine, professionalism is a good thing.

He obediently followed the "mental coach's" prompts and did his homework before setting out: he scouted the target area during the day, took photos of environmental details with an ordinary camera, marked potential dangers and the best shooting angles, and even secretly cleaned up broken glass bottles in a few places.

He also precisely calculated the shooting window based on the neon lights' power-on times.

A few nights later, under a moonless, windy sky (actually, it was just a bit cloudy), it was perfect for "pulling off something big."

Alex wore a dark gray, highly elastic, and inconspicuous training suit.

With the action camera strapped on, he slipped into the silent industrial area like a nocturnal cat.

For his first real-world attempt, he decided to start with a relatively simple route: jump from the top of a container about two meters high onto an adjacent low warehouse with a rusted tin roof, requiring a push-off from a protruding metal beam in the middle.

He stood on the edge of the container, taking a deep breath.

The night breeze was cool, and the "Pawn Shop" neon light not far away was emitting a rhythmic, sickly red glow.

Deep in his body, the instincts of Parkour and martial arts were already activated; his muscles were slightly tense, full of elastic readiness.

Run-up, jump!

His body released like a spring compressed to the limit, stepping precisely onto the beam.

Making almost no sound, he used the faint rebound force to stretch out, gliding across the two or three-meter distance like a predatory night bird.

His other foot landed lightly on the edge of the warehouse roof, followed by a forward roll to dissipate the force, standing steady.

The whole sequence was completed in a few seconds, so fluid that even he was surprised.

The footage from the camera on his chest was incredibly stable, the perspective thrilling and immersive.

"Not bad!" he felt a surge of joy.

Sure enough, anything from the system is quality!

This money was well spent!

He stretched his limbs, feeling his body in peak condition, so he grew bolder and looked at the next target: a wall edge about four meters long and over three meters high.

He needed to run from the warehouse side, jump across, grab the edge with his bare hands, and pull himself up.

He accelerated slightly, sprinted, and leaped with all his might from the roof edge!

His fingers accurately gripped the edge of the brick wall.

But the moment he put force into the pull-up, a slight "crack" sounded, and the brick his fingertips were bearing weight on seemed to loosen!

"Damn it!" Alex's heart skipped a beat.

The knowledge of martial arts form immediately made him subconsciously adjust his center of gravity.

Almost simultaneously, the emergency protocol of Parkour Mastery popped up: Let go, tuck your body, adjust your posture!

He decisively let go of that brick and plummeted.

But during the fall, he keenly spotted a protruding, rusted metal ventilation pipe to the side below.

In a flash, he engaged his core, twisting in mid-air in a way that wasn't standard but was effective enough.

His feet narrowly kicked onto the ventilation pipe, making a muffled "thud," which finally cushioned the fall, and he stumbled to the ground, landing on a pile of soft, unknown trash or old fabric.

A close call.

He let out a breath, his heart still pounding.

He checked himself—his hands were stained with rust, his clothes were dirty, but he was unhurt.

The loose brick fell nearby, shattering into pieces.

The "mental safety consultant" only then popped up a summary: "Encountered sudden structural risk, emergency response rating: B+. Suggestion: Conduct more thorough visual and tactile inspections of landing spots before taking off next time."

"...Got it, got it," Alex said ruefully, patting the dust off himself.

It seemed that having skills alone wasn't enough; experience and caution were equally important.

This little episode made him even more careful.

In the subsequent filming, he no longer pursued extreme distances or high difficulty, but focused on the fluidity of the movements, the interaction with the environment, and the coordination with the light effects of those neon signs.

He moved quickly up and down the rusty fire escapes, his figure appearing and disappearing under the red neon light; he performed a series of rapid wall-run rebounds in the narrow alley, his pace vaguely echoing the flickering rhythm of the white light tubes overhead.

Despite holding back, that agility, strength, and coordination beyond ordinary people, along with the graceful posture fused with martial arts rhythm, were faithfully recorded by the small camera on his chest.

Even when he reviewed the footage himself, he felt that even without editing, the raw footage already had a strong impact.

As the shooting neared its end, he completed the final move—flipping down from a low wall and landing steadily—and just as he straightened up, he heard a suppressed gasp from the mouth of the alley.

He turned his head vigilantly, only to see two girls standing at the alley entrance, covering their mouths, their eyes wide open, clearly having seen the fluid set of movements he had just performed.

Judging by their attire, they looked like students from a nearby art school who had perhaps just finished an evening activity.

"Oh my god... are you... are you filming a movie?" a girl with a bob cut asked, summoning her courage, her eyes full of wonder and... admiration?

The other girl with short hair was more direct.

Her gaze swept over Alex's training suit, which was slightly soaked with sweat and outlined his solid chest, and her cheeks flushed a little: "Those moves just now... so amazing! Are you a professional Parkour athlete?"

Alex quickly adjusted his expression, revealing a slightly tired but friendly smile, and patted the dust off his body (this action unintentionally stretched his arm and shoulder lines again): "Just a hobby, filming some short videos."

"Short videos? Like the ones on YouTube?" The bob-cut girl was even more excited.

"Can you tell us the name of the channel? We'll definitely subscribe!"

Alex vaguely gave the name "Alex's Wonderland" without saying much.

The two girls, however, acted as if they had found a treasure, thanking him repeatedly and couldn't help but take a few more looks at him (mostly focused on his face and physique) before whispering to each other as they left.

Snippets like "So handsome," "His physique is too good," and "He's really like a superhero in a movie" drifted over.

Alex shook his head, finding it a bit funny, but also confirming the "lethality" of this appearance and skill set again.

This was just a glimpse; he didn't know how much attention it would attract once the video was made.

Returning home with several pieces of highly satisfactory core footage, he couldn't wait to start the rough cut.

When those shots full of power and beauty—running, jumping, flipping—were paired with a rough draft of background music he made on the fly, featuring Eastern drum beats and electronic pulses, even he felt his blood boiling.

This was a completely different kind of "thrill" compared to his previous videos that focused on static aesthetics.

More importantly, he found that when he was editing, the knowledge of dynamic human photography was automatically kicking in, allowing him to precisely find the moments that best embodied the explosive power and the beauty of body lines, and the timing was sharper.

The [Advanced Image Narrative and Rhythm Control] skill (exchanged earlier) allowed him to start conceptualizing how to weave these scattered, cool shots into a complete work with emotion, build-up, and even a sense of story.

Just as he was immersed in it, his phone rang.

It was Lena, her tone a mix of excitement and anxiety: "Alex! Have you been pulling off some new big moves lately? There's word going around!"

"Word?" Alex paused the editing.

"Yeah! The film academy and the dance department are all talking about a super handsome, incredibly fit mysterious student who plays extreme Parkour downtown at night and seems to be filming something amazing!

The description fits you perfectly!

Several circles are curious about who it is, and some people are even asking how to 'run into' you!"

Lena spoke rapidly.

"Especially that senior from the dance department who has always wanted to be your 'muse'—I heard she's even more eager, declaring that she must meet this 'urban dancer' in person."

Alex rubbed his forehead.

This spread too fast.

It seemed he would have to be more elusive next time he filmed at night, or... just change to a more remote location.

"Also," Lena's tone became a bit strange, "there's one more thing, not sure if it counts as a warning.

I heard that school security seems to have noticed some anonymous reports about 'high-risk activities in non-public areas at night.'

Although they didn't name names, but... you know, better be careful."

Great, it seemed the "urban dancer" wasn't famous yet, but might have to deal with school security first.

Hanging up the phone with Lena, Alex looked at the adrenaline-pumping Parkour footage on the screen, then thought about the potential "attention" and small troubles to come, feeling conflicted.

It was truly thrilling, but did this sneak-around, thief-like filming process need an upgrade?

Perhaps... next time he exchanges points, he should see if there are skills like [Low-Profile Action and Environmental Integration] or [Basic Negotiation and Crisis Resolution]?

He closed the editing software and looked at the remaining 1820 popularity points in the system.

The road was long, and the "equipment library" needed constant updating.

Outside the window, the city was still bathed in lights.

Alex stretched his shoulders, which were a bit stiff from long hours of editing, his perfect shoulder and neck lines casting a sharp shadow under the desk lamp.

The next challenge might not just be higher difficulty moves, but how to elegantly twist, turn, and leap on this increasingly crowded "stage."