123: Chapter 123 Rehearsal, Peeping and a Half-finished Masterpiece

New York, Manhattan West Side, three floors underground at Madison Square Garden.

The performance hall of this legendary venue was empty at this moment, the audience seats hidden in deep darkness, with only the pale light of engineering floodlights shining on the stage. The air was filled with a mixed scent of metal, lubricating oil, and freshly sprayed protective coating. The massive "origin" cube structural frame already stood in the center of the stage, not yet covered by decorative panels; the exposed steel structure, hydraulic rods, and cable bundles made it look like the entrails of a sleeping mechanical beast.

Alex stood at the edge of the stage, looking up at this fourteen-meter-high frame. He was wearing simple black work clothes, with a communication headset in his ears. Today wasn't a performance; it was the first full-element technical rehearsal and also the stage for the official implementation of the "bait plan." Besides the core team and essential technicians, only three strictly screened industry media reporters and two senior observers sent by Universal Music were allowed to observe in specific areas. Everyone's mobile phones and electronic devices had been sealed upon entry.

"System self-check final sequence. All non-essential data transmission channels closed, local encrypted network enabled." Rex's voice came through the headset, calm as usual, "Peripheral sensors deployed, monitoring for abnormal signals started."

"Mechanical structure final safety check complete, safety redundancy system on full-power standby." Hank's voice followed immediately, "All observers in position, line of sight and movement paths confirmed safe."

Marcus's voice carried a hint of tension: "Universal's people are asking if we need to have medical personnel on standby for the stunt demonstration later. I answered according to the plan: all safety measures are in place, and we have a comprehensive medical contingency plan."

Alex exhaled gently: "Tell them, thank you for your concern, but please focus on appreciating the combination of technology and art."

He flexed his shoulders and wrists, walking toward a maintenance door opened at the base of the cube frame. The "high-difficulty mechanical arm-assisted stunt" to be demonstrated today involved him needing to use exoskeleton-style light mechanical arms (with basic design provided by Organization D, disguised as standard wire-assisted equipment) to move and jump quickly on several specific, constantly changing stress points while the cube performed slow tilting and rotational deformation. Finally, when the structure deformed to a certain angle, he would be "launched" by the mechanical arm to a temporary platform twelve meters high.

This move combined Parkour, high-altitude work, and precise timing, carrying a high risk for ordinary people. But for Alex, whose physique had reached the third stage and who possessed [Spider-Sense] and enhanced Dynamic Vision, the core challenge lay in controlling his strength, masking his abilities, and ensuring that every landing point fell precisely within the range of "reasonable human limits."

"Rehearsal sequence A, start." The command came from the console.

A low hydraulic sound rang out, and the massive metal skeleton began to move slowly like a waking prehistoric creature. Structural components slid and rotated, and the whole entity began to tilt to one side. The beams of the engineering lights cut changing light and shadow among the moving steel beams.

Alex moved.

He didn't activate any supernatural abilities, relying purely on his honed physical fitness and muscle memory formed from countless rehearsals. He ran on the tilting steel beams, his footsteps landing on pre-set anti-slip nodes, his body maintaining amazing balance within the structure as the center of gravity constantly shifted. The hooks of the light mechanical arms engaged, released, and re-engaged precisely with the adapter on his back, providing crucial auxiliary pulling force and instantaneous directional adjustments.

A suppressed gasp came from the observation area. Even though it was just a rehearsal, and even though the safety nets and cushioning measures were invisible but present, this dynamic performance inside a massive moving machine still had an extremely oppressive visual impact.

Just at the moment Alex was about to be "launched" toward the high platform—

[Spider-Sense] transmitted an extremely faint but clear prickle, not directed at physical danger, but a feeling of being "watched." The direction did not come from the observation area, but from higher up, behind some shadow-covered steel structure on the venue ceiling.

Almost simultaneously, Rex's voice sounded urgently in the headset: "Passive signal reception signature captured! Ceiling direction, height approximately forty meters, northeast corner! The signal is very weak, it's a highly disguised, environmental-powered optical sensor! It may have been lurking for a while, recording!"

The "bait" had been bitten. And the opponent's method was clever; they didn't use active scanning but used a purely optical snooping method that was harder to detect.

Alex's mind didn't fluctuate in the slightest; his body was thrown by the mechanical arm according to the established trajectory, tracing an arc in the air, landing precisely on the twelve-meter-high platform, bending his knees to cushion the impact, and standing firm. The movement was clean and efficient, fitting the performance of a top-tier stuntman.

"Emotion visualization system, basic demonstration mode, start." He whispered into the microphone.

On the stage, several sets of test lights began to respond. They changed colors and brightness based on limited sound data collected by test sensors (simulating audience reactions) placed in several positions in the audience area. The effect was very basic, far less agile than the desert test field, but enough to make people understand the concept that "lighting can react to the live atmosphere."

The rehearsal continued according to plan for an hour, covering several main sequences of the mechanical structure deformation and basic lighting interaction demonstrations. After it ended, Alex walked toward the backstage surrounded by staff, waved politely toward the observation area, and did not stop.

Once entering the backstage secure area, Hank immediately followed and said in a low voice: "Rex has locked onto the general area of the sensor, but the opponent might be controlling it remotely or it might be on a timer; there's no one on site. Should we go up and clear it?"

"No." Alex took off his noise-canceling earplugs, wiping sweat with a towel, "Let them get the 'material' they want. Notify the official venue security to go check that area in... three hours, under the guise of a 'routine equipment check,' but don't make a big fuss. Rex, analyze the signal characteristics and installation method, and compare it with previous scans."

"Already in progress. Preliminary judgment is that the installation required professional climbing skills and knowledge of the venue structure, not a spur-of-the-moment decision." Rex responded.

At this time, Marcus walked over, his expression somewhat complex: "The senior vice president from Universal just told me privately that their headquarters is 'impressed and reassured' by today's demonstration. He said the board was worried your project was too whimsical before, but the mechanical structure, safety controls, and initial interaction concepts seen today prove it is 'solid and achievable.' They might invest more resources in the final performance promotion."

An expected reaction. Show a part of the "solid" technology to dispel the partners' doubts about the "craziness," while hiding the real "craziness."

"Very good. Keep communicating. Also, help me schedule a meeting with 'The Architect,' we need to talk about the sensor."

---

At the same time, Los Angeles, Brentwood.

Taylor had been in the recording studio for a full twenty-eight hours. Coffee cups were scattered everywhere, and sheet music drafts covered the console and the nearby floor. The skeleton of "half-step echo" had already been built—the main melody, chord progression, and paragraph structure were all determined. But she was stuck on the most critical "error" injection link.

How to turn that sense of "imperfect perfection" and "delayed dialogue" not just into a concept, but into an audible, perceivable, and soul-striking sonic entity?

She had tried adding irregular rhythmic electronic pulses, tried making vocal samples slightly out of tune, and tried creating unnatural phase cancellation in the reverb. Some effects were cool, but they sounded more like experimental noise rather than music that could resonate. Some were too subtle, almost imperceptible.

Frustrated, she pushed away the keyboard, walked to the living room, turned on the vintage vinyl player, and put on a slightly worn jazz record. In an improvised passage, the trumpeter deliberately played a note slightly higher than the standard pitch, then slid back on track. That momentary "error" made the subsequent return of the melody full of dramatic tension, as if that error was a deliberately set suspense.

She froze.

Maybe the problem wasn't in "adding" errors, but in "constructing the expectation and resolution of the error"?

She rushed back to the recording studio and reopened the project file. This time, she didn't add anything to the existing melody but began to rebuild the harmonic structure. She built a chord progression that sounded very stable, even a bit rigid, as a base, and then at several key positions, she deliberately let a certain voice part be "late" by a fraction of a second, or let a note that should have been resolved temporarily "hover" in the air, creating a brief, unsettling tension, and then used a richer, warmer tone to "smooth" it out.

She began to record her own vocals. For the verse, she sang extremely stably and clearly, like a perfect studio product. When it came to the pre-chorus, she introduced another vocal harmony track of her own, but this track was deliberately slightly delayed, like an Echo, or like another self trying to synchronize but always half a beat slow. The two vocal lines intertwined, chased, and occasionally collided to produce dissonant overtones, and then at the moment the chorus erupted, through a clever modulation and powerful reverb, they were forcibly "fused" together. That fusion wasn't about eliminating differences, but about letting differences become the strange luster flashing within the surging sound waves.

She didn't know how long she had been recording until her throat felt dry and her eyes were sore from staring at the screen. She pressed the play button, leaned back in the chair, and closed her eyes.

The music flowed out.

This time, it was different. Those "errors" no longer felt like foreign objects; they became the specifically designed asymmetrical teeth in the Gear that drove the emotion forward. It was precisely these "asymmetries" that gave the Gear's rotation a unique rhythm and power. The delayed dialogue brought a sense of dislocation in time and space, the unresolved harmony created longing, and the final resolution brought doubled release. It was still pop, still had a strong rhythm and catchy melody, but inside, there was an extra layer of complex and moving texture.

This wasn't a perfect pop song. This was a work that had life, could breathe, and carried flaws and warmth.

Taylor knew, she had found it.

Her phone vibrated; it was a message from Alex, only two words: "New York, they took the bait. How's the song?"

Taylor looked at the dense tracks on the screen and replied: "Found the heartbeat. Waiting for you to come back and listen."

She paused, then added: "It's not perfect, but I think, this is how it should be."

---

Late at night, in a New York hotel room, Alex held an encrypted video call with "The Architect."

"The sensor's method is very professional; the equipment is a high-definition low-light model available on the market but deeply modified, impossible to trace." "The Architect" was on the other side of the screen, with her laboratory in the background, "The installation location was chosen cleverly, utilizing the venue's existing line channels, making the power tapping hidden. Analyzing from the power consumption pattern, it has been working there for at least forty-eight hours, meaning it was already in place before your rehearsal."

"They anticipated our rehearsal schedule, or had insider information." Alex said.

"The possibility cannot be ruled out. But it is more likely based on a reasonable inference of your project's public timeline, as well as monitoring of the venue's schedule." "The Architect" analyzed, "The important thing is that they chose passive optical recording instead of active scanning. This shows they accepted the previous lesson, knowing that active electronic reconnaissance is easily detected and interfered with by us, and turned to using physical snooping, which is more traditional but harder to guard against. This also means that at the current stage, they are more interested in verifying 'what you can do' rather than the technical details of 'how you do it'."

"So today's 'bait' was likely swallowed." Alex thought, "They saw the feasibility of the mechanical structure, the difficulty of the stunts, and the basic emotional interaction concept. This will cause them to form an assessment of the technical level of the 'Resonance Era' finale as 'very high, but still within the scope of understanding'."

"This is exactly the effect we want. Lower their vigilance, or guide their sabotage attempts toward these 'demonstrated' aspects." "The Architect" nodded, "But you must also realize that once you demonstrate a level of technology and art fusion far exceeding this level at the final performance, their reaction might be more intense. It might shift from intelligence gathering to direct sabotage or interference."

"We are prepared." A cold light flashed in Alex's eyes, "How is the preparation for the 'Sound of Echoes' foundation press conference?"

"The venue is confirmed, the guest invitation list has been sent out, including several prestigious medical experts, philanthropists, and two congressional aides who have a good impression of you. Public opinion groundwork has already begun." Marcus's voice came from the side of the communication.

"Very good. Firmly nail our image of being 'solid,' 'safe,' and 'having social responsibility' into the public consciousness." Alex ended the call and walked to the window.

Under the New York night sky, the silhouette of Madison Square Garden stood silently among the city lights. An invisible game of chess was being played, and the real battlefield would light up here and in Los Angeles simultaneously in a few weeks.

He pulled up the system interface.

[Historical Cumulative popularity] 86,950,000 points

[Available popularity] 18,530,030 points

It was only a little over ten million away from one hundred million. The pace of growth was steadily accelerating after the launch of the "Resonance Era" promotion and the small-scale spread of news about the New York rehearsal.

His gaze swept over those high-level abilities again. The hint about the "tremor of the strings of rules" was still obscure, but for some reason, after hearing Taylor's words, "It's not perfect, but I think, this is how it should be," he felt he was a step closer to understanding it.

True resonance, perhaps, was never flawless synchronization, but finding the resonant frequency that could accommodate and sublimate all "errors" among thousands of different frequencies.

The stage of the finale would be the ultimate test of this concept.