75: Chapter 75 Aftermath and Liquidation

Evening, concert venue.

The ten seconds of silence after the recording ended were more destructive than any loud noise.

In those ten seconds, Montero's voice—processed but still retaining its characteristic cold tone—echoed through over four hundred speakers, was branded into the ears of tens of thousands, and transmitted via live stream to over three million viewers.

"Physical termination. But it needs to look like an accident."

Alex let the words hang in the air for a full ten seconds before speaking again. This time, his voice was no longer calm, but heavy with a kind of weary exhaustion:

"This is their final solution. When the law cannot crush you, they slander you with public opinion; when public opinion cannot suppress you, they isolate you commercially; when isolation cannot trap you—"

He paused, looking into the camera.

"—they eliminate you with an 'accident'."

A roar of anger erupted from the crowd. It wasn't scattered insults, but a collective, low, beast-like roar. Those so-called protesters who had been holding signs saying "Defense Workers Need to Eat" quietly lowered their signs and retreated into the shadows.

A middle-aged woman suddenly rushed out from the crowd, ran to the front of the platform, and shouted at Alex: "My husband! My husband was a former quality inspector at Northrop! Two years ago, he reported a batch of material issues, and three months later, he 'accidentally' died of carbon monoxide poisoning in his garage!"

Her voice came through the nearest speaker, hoarse and broken.

Security attempted to step forward, but Alex raised a hand to stop them. He crouched down to look the woman in the eye: "What was your husband's name?"

"David Miller. He worked at Northrop for twenty-two years." The woman was tearful. "They said it was suicide, but David wouldn't... He was only three months away from retirement..."

Alex turned to look at Marcus. Marcus immediately operated his tablet, and thirty seconds later, a file appeared on the AR interface—a Northrop internal personnel record. David Miller's name was listed, with the reason for departure marked as "Voluntary Resignation," dated exactly two weeks before his death.

"Look," Alex said softly, his voice traveling through the speakers to everyone's ears. "Another 'voluntary resignation,' followed by an 'accidental death'."

He stood up and looked out at the audience.

"Tonight, we are here not just for the truth about the NT-7 material, nor just for my own survival." His voice gradually rose. "We are here for everyone who has been silenced for wanting to speak the truth. For Robert Green, for David Miller, for all the 'accidental' victims whose names will never be reported by the media."

Taylor's piano music began at the perfect moment. Not an impassioned melody, but a slow, sorrowful prelude. She began to sing a completely unfamiliar song, the lyrics simple and heavy:

"They say it's an accident... They say it's a coincidence... They say it's fate... But I know, it's just murder wearing another set of clothes..."

People in the crowd began to cry.

Not small sobs, but a release after too much suppression. A young man covered his face, his shoulders shaking; a woman hugged the child beside her, tears sliding down silently; several elderly people took off their hats and bowed their heads in silence.

This was not an emotional climax designed by Alex.

This was real human emotion, unable to be concealed in the face of truth.

【Emotional concentration reaching critical point...】

【Popularity obtained in real-time: +384,000 points】

【Current popularity: 5,282,000 points】

But Alex knew that the real harvest had not yet begun.

---

Northrop Command Center · Same Time

James Howard smashed the third monitor.

"How did that recording leak?!" He roared at the video conferencing system. On the screen, Montero looked pale. "That was a recording from the secure conference room! It has the highest level of encryption!"

"We are investigating." Montero's voice was dry. "But that is not the point, Mr. Howard. The point is that right now—the live stream is still continuing, and the audience has already exceeded four million. We are being publicly accused of murder in front of the entire nation."

"Shut it down! Make all the TV stations stop broadcasting!"

"Legally, we cannot." Legal counsel Vivian interjected. "This is a live broadcast of a public event, protected by the First Amendment. Unless we can prove the content involves national security secrets—but the recording discusses murdering a civilian, which is the exact opposite."

Howard slumped in his chair. He had experienced countless crises—contract disputes, congressional investigations, stock price crashes—but never like this. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and the one pushing him off wasn't a competitor, but an eighteen-year-old kid.

"What about social media?" He finally asked. "What is our public opinion control team doing?"

"...Putting out fires." The PR director pulled up real-time data. "But the fire is too big. The topic '#NorthropMurder' hit number one on Twitter trends within ten minutes, with over two hundred thousand related tweets. Our official account has been flooded with angry comments."

Howard looked at another screen—Northrop's stock price chart. Although it was the weekend and the market was closed, after-hours trading already showed abnormal fluctuations, with sell orders piling up.

"Contact our people in Congress." He made a decision. "We need an emergency hearing to accuse Alex Su of 'stealing state secrets' and 'endangering national security.' Shift the focus away from the murder allegations."

"But those recordings—"

"Say they are faked!" Howard roared. "Say they are computer-generated! Say he got some voice actor from somewhere! I don't care what reason you use, I want to see at least five senators publicly questioning the authenticity of the recording by Monday morning!"

The order was given.

But everyone in the command center knew that this was just a stalling tactic.

The real war had already been lost tonight.

---

Venue · 9:35 PM

The concert entered its final phase.

Alex did not continue to play more evidence. He knew that sometimes less is more. One recording, one name, one story—these were more powerful than piles of documents.

"After tonight," he said into the microphone, "Northrop will do three things."

He held up his first finger.

"First, they will say all the evidence is forged. They will hire 'experts' to analyze the recording, say the documents were Photoshopped, and say I fabricated everything for fame and fortune."

The second finger.

"Second, they will use all their political connections to push for a congressional investigation into me for 'stealing state secrets.' They will package me as a 'national security threat' and turn this truth-revealing event into 'foreign interference'."

The third finger.

"Third, they will continue in even more covert ways. Perhaps a tax audit, perhaps new lawsuits, perhaps more 'accidents'."

He lowered his hand.

"But there is one thing they cannot do—" Alex looked out at the crowd, his gaze sweeping over every face, "they cannot make tonight disappear. They cannot make four million viewers forget what they heard. They cannot make David Miller's wife forget how her husband died."

He paused, letting the silence fall again.

"So tonight, I need each of you to do three small things."

The AR interface changed, showing three simple options:

1. Record a short video, talk about your feelings after listening to tonight's concert, and upload it to any social media with the hashtag #StillBreathing

2. Tell the story you heard tonight—Robert Green, David Miller, or any story that touched you—to at least three people who didn't watch the live stream

3. Remember this moment. Remember what ordinary people did when power tried to make the truth disappear

"No parades needed, no protests needed, not even a petition signature needed." Alex said. "Just use your own way to let tonight's voice travel a little further."

Taylor's piano music changed again. This time it was the melody of her classic song "You Belong With Me," but the lyrics were adapted again:

"You belong to the truth, not to lies... You belong to the light, not to the darkness..."

The entire venue began to sing along.

This time, there was a different power in the singing—no longer anger, but determination.

Alex stood under the lights, watching all of this.

The system interface began to jump frantically:

【Large-scale emotional resonance achieved...】

【Popularity obtained in real-time: +512,000 points】

【Current popularity: 5,794,000 points】

And there were only fifteen minutes left in the concert.

---

Backstage · Temporary Command Post

"The data is exploding." Marcus stared at the laptop, his voice trembling with excitement. "YouTube live stream peak at 4.12 million, Facebook live stream 2.87 million, estimated total audience for TV broadcasts exceeds eight million. That's not even counting the ten thousand-plus people here on-site."

Rex looked up from the surveillance screen: "The Northrop people have all evacuated. The police just received new orders—changing from 'prepare to evacuate' to 'ensure the event ends safely.' Someone applied pressure."

"Organization D." Hank said, "They just sent an encrypted message saying 'the winds in the upper echelons have changed'."

Alex took the encryption device and saw the short message:

【Front Row Audience】: "Some interesting conversations just happened on Capitol Hill. Three senators who were originally prepared to support Northrop are 'reconsidering their positions' after watching the live stream. The FBI is also discussing whether to launch an investigation into Northrop—not targeting you, but targeting them."

He replied: "Thank you. But the fight isn't over yet."

【Front Row Audience】: "Of course it isn't over. But this may be the first turning point. Also, a reminder: Howard will not sit idly by. He will launch a full counterattack within the legal system. Prepare your legal team, prepare the money, and prepare to fight a lawsuit that could last for years."

Alex turned off the device.

He knew Front Row Audience was right. Tonight's victory was in the court of public opinion, not in the court of law. Northrop still possessed a massive legal team, political connections, and almost unlimited resources.

But at least, they could no longer easily make him "have an accident."

At least, after tonight, millions of people knew their names and crimes.

"Alex." Taylor walked over from the side of the stage, her face flushed with the mix of exhaustion and excitement after the performance. "I want to sing this last song with you."

She handed him a microphone.

"What are we singing?"

Taylor smiled: "That melody you hummed when we first met. You said it was called 'Rebirth'."

Alex was taken aback for a moment. It was a tune he had hummed casually on a sleepless night shortly after his rebirth, a mix of memories from his past life and feelings from his current one. He had never fully composed it, only occasionally playing a few notes.

"I don't have lyrics," he said.

"I wrote some," Taylor said, taking a folded piece of paper from her pocket. "During this time, every time you encountered danger, every time we almost lost each other, I kept thinking about what this song should say."

Alex unfolded the paper. On it was Taylor's elegant handwriting:

"Rising from the ashes, breathing through the lies... They thought it was over, but this is just the beginning... I am the reborn, I am the witness, I am the voice that will not fade..."

He looked up at Taylor. Her eyes shimmered under the lights with a kind of radiance he had never seen before—not just love, not just support, but the steadfastness of an accomplice.

"Okay," he said. "Let's sing it together."

---

Stage

Alex and Taylor stood side by side in front of the microphone. There was no band accompaniment, only the sound of Taylor's piano in the background.

This was the first time all night that Alex was going to sing.

He lacked professional vocal training, but there was something in his voice—the vicissitudes of having experienced death and rebirth, the determination when confronting powerful forces, and the courage to still choose to stand up in desperate situations.

When the first note rang out, the entire venue went quiet.

"Rising from the ashes..." Alex's voice was a bit raw, but he enunciated every word heavily, "breathing through the lies..."

Taylor's harmony joined in, clear and powerful: "They thought it was over, but this is just the beginning..."

In the chorus, their voices intertwined:

"I am the reborn, I am the witness... I am the voice that will not fade..."

This was not a perfect performance. Alex's singing skills were clearly not as good as Taylor's; sometimes his pitch was unstable, and sometimes his breath support was lacking.

But it was precisely this imperfection that gave the song a stunning sense of reality.

The audience held up their phones, the lights swaying in the night sky like a sea of stars.

When the final line, "The voice... will not fade..." echoed in the night sky, many people had tears on their faces.

Not tears of sadness.

But tears of hope.

Alex put down the microphone and looked at Taylor. The two exchanged a smile; there were a thousand words in that smile.

Then he turned to the audience and said the final words:

"After tonight, no matter what happens, remember—we are still breathing. We are still speaking out. And as long as there is one person who remembers the truth, they will never win."

Applause.

Three minutes of continuous, deafening applause.

Drones spelled out the final words in the night sky:

THE END IS JUST THE BEGINNING

The end is just the beginning. The concert came to an end.

But the war was far from over.

---

10:30 PM · Farm Villa Safe House

The team members sat around the conference table, all of them looking exhausted but excited.

Marcus reported the data first: "Final statistics: YouTube live stream peak of 4.28 million, total views exceeding 20 million. If we include broadcasts from various TV stations and subsequent on-demand views, the estimated reach is over 50 million. The social media topic #StillBreathing topped the charts on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, with over three million related discussions."

"What about Popularity?" Alex wondered.

The system interface displayed in real-time:

【Concert Event Total Popularity Gained: +2,894,000 points】

【Current Popularity: 7,514,000 points】

One concert, nearly three million Popularity.

"What about Northrop?" Alex turned to Rex.

"Chaos," Rex said, pulling up the surveillance summary. "Their headquarters is lit up tonight, with vehicles coming and going frequently. The communications we intercepted show that the board of directors is holding an emergency meeting. The locations of Howard and Montero... are currently unknown."

Hank added: "Agent Miller from the FBI contacted me just now, saying that 'the higher-ups are very concerned.' It implies that a formal investigation might be launched, but not against us—against Northrop's security department."

Alex nodded. This was good news, but it wasn't enough.

"On the legal front," Lawyer Lawson joined via video call, "Northrop will definitely file new lawsuits tomorrow, accusing us of defamation, trade secret infringement, and possibly even espionage. We need to prepare a defense fund of at least five million dollars."

"Where will the money come from?" Marcus asked.

Alex pulled up a few pages: "Three sources. First, the accessible part of my parents' inheritance, about 1.2 million. Second, Taylor is willing to advance part of the royalties from her next album, about 800,000. Third—"

He opened a crowdfunding page.

It was the one he had asked Marcus to quietly launch before the concert started: "Truth Defense Fund." The target amount was three million dollars.

Now, the page showed: $2,847,619 raised.

It had only been an hour since the concert ended.

"This..." Marcus stared with wide eyes, "How is this possible?"

"It's possible," Alex said calmly, "because tonight, millions of people just saw with their own eyes why we need this money."

He closed the page and looked at the team.

"Alright, celebration time is over. Northrop's counterattack will begin before dawn. We need to have everything ready."

"Including what?"

"First, Lawyer Lawson, you are in charge of the legal defense line. I need you to have all the response documents ready by 8:00 AM tomorrow."

"Second, Marcus, you are in charge of content follow-up. Edit the highlights of tonight's concert into three versions: a five-minute short video for social media dissemination, a thirty-minute documentary for in-depth dissemination, and a full version for archiving."

"Third, Rex and Hank, upgrade security. Northrop lost on the surface, but they might be even crazier in the shadows."

"Fourth—" Alex paused, "I need to start preparing the next project."

"What project?"

Alex pulled up a rough project proposal:

"Project Renaissance"

Objective: Within three months, through a series of high-quality content (music, short films, articles), push Popularity to the entire United States and even the world.

Phase 1: Musical Impact—release the "Rebirth" single, hit the Billboard charts

Phase 2: Short Film Series—"Silent Witness," telling more stories silenced by Northrop

Phase 3: Crossover Collaboration—collaborate with progressive Hollywood filmmakers on a documentary proposal

Phase 4: Content Upgrade—systematically output high-quality self-media content, establish an independent media matrix

Marcus read it and took a deep breath: "This will take at least six months, and requires a top-tier team..."

"We have Taylor's music team, we have the technical support of Organization D, and we have the 50-million-audience base we just gained," Alex said. "And, we don't need perfection. What we need is authenticity and consistency."

He stood up and walked to the window. In the night, the lights of Nashville flickered like stars.

"We won a battle tonight. But the war is still ongoing. Northrop will use every means of law, money, and power to strike back. And we—"

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the team.

"—we will fight in a way they least understand and are least able to suppress."

"What way?"

Alex smiled: "Creation. Creating continuously, high-quality, and authentically. Using music, using images, using words. Using every art form that can spread the truth."

"Until one day," he said softly, "they realize that the only way to silence a creator is to admit that what he is saying is the truth."

"And by then, they have already lost."

The meeting ended. The team members left one by one to carry out their tasks.

Alex remained alone in the safe house and pulled up the system interface.

【Current Popularity: 7,514,000 points】

【Spider-Sense (Intermediate) Evolution Progress: 93%】

【Omnimedia Director Vision (Beginner) Proficiency Increased】

【Battlefield Dominator (Beginner) Unlocked, requires 800,000 Popularity to permanently solidify】

Still 2.5 million short.

Three months' time.

He knew the road ahead would be even harder. Northrop's counterattack would stop at nothing. The legal battle would consume a lot of time and money. Public opinion might fluctuate.

But he also knew one other thing:

Tonight, when he and Taylor finished singing "Rebirth," when the singing of tens of thousands of people echoed in the night sky, he felt something unprecedented—not anger, not resistance, not the instinct to survive.

But a more powerful force: the desire to create.

Using creation to fight destruction.

Using truth to fight lies.

Using the extraordinary to fight the mundane.

He closed the system interface, opened his laptop, and began to write the full arrangement plan for "Rebirth."

As the first line of notes was written down, the system interface flickered quietly:

【Strong desire to create and sense of mission detected...】

【Recommendation: Redeem 【Inspiration Burst (Beginner)】 - Can significantly improve creation efficiency and quality, requires 200,000 Popularity points...】

【Redeem?】

Alex glanced at his remaining Popularity.

"Redeem."

【Redemption successful.】

【Remaining Popularity: 7,314,000 points】

【New Ability Acquired: 【Inspiration Burst (Beginner)】】

Notes began to arrange themselves automatically in his mind, the melody lines became clear, and the harmonic structure automatically perfected itself.

He was immersed in it, forgetting the time, forgetting the danger, forgetting the looming legal battle.

At this moment, he was just a creator.

And creation itself was the most powerful form of resistance.

Outside the window, the night sky over Nashville began to turn white.

A new day was about to begin.

And the war that belonged to Alex Su—the war of exchanging Popularity for the extraordinary, the war of changing the world through creation—was just entering its true climax.