79: Chapter 79 The Calm Volcano

Thirty-six hours after the release of "Radioactive," the data curve took an unexpected turn.

"It's... continuing to grow." Marcus stared at the monitoring screen, his tone filled with confusion. "It didn't explode on the first day and then drop back down; it's climbing steadily. It's already reached fifteenth place on the Spotify daily chart."

Alex Su sat in the safe house's data center, three documents spread out before him: a detailed dissemination analysis of "Radioactive," a filming outline for the NT-7 documentary, and the creative notes for the third song he was about to "port."

"Because we've touched something deeper." Taylor Swift walked over from the coffee machine, carrying two cups of coffee. "'Rebirth' triggered sympathy and resonance, 'The One I Used to Know' was a tragic narrative, but 'Radioactive'... it ignites anger."

She handed one cup to Alex and continued, "Anger doesn't fade within twenty-four hours. It ferments, it's contagious, and it makes people want to share—'Listen to this song, this is exactly how I feel.'"

Alex took the coffee and nodded in agreement. On the system interface, the fame growth brought by "Radioactive" had stabilized at eight to ten thousand points per hour. Thirty-six hours after release, it had added a total of 580,000 fame points, bringing the current total to 7,408,000.

But beyond this number, the quality of dissemination was more important. Organization D's data analysis report showed that "Radioactive" had a listener retention rate of 47%, far higher than the industry average of 22%. This meant nearly half the people who heard the song would play it again, share it, and participate in discussions.

"What's Northrop's reaction?" Alex asked.

Rex looked up from the monitoring console. "Very quiet. There are half as many vehicles entering and leaving their headquarters today as usual. But the internal communications we've intercepted show... they're reassessing their strategy."

"Assessing what?"

"Assessing the 'cost of a culture war.'" Rex pulled up a decrypted communication fragment. "This is an email from one of their middle managers: 'Every time we take legal action, the play count for that song doubles. Every time we issue a statement of rebuttal, social media discussion on the topic triples. We're helping them promote it.'"

A few light laughs sounded in the safe house. But Alex didn't laugh.

"This shows they're starting to get smart," he said. "Next, they won't attack head-on; they'll switch to more covert methods."

"What kind of methods?"

Alex pulled up an encrypted message, a warning sent ten minutes ago by "Front Row Audience."

[Front Row Audience]: "Northrop is contacting the CEOs of three major music distribution companies. Not to apply pressure, but with 'business cooperation proposals'—they're willing to provide massive sponsorships on the condition that these companies 'reassess their cooperation with certain controversial artists.' Translation: Spending money to have you isolated by the industry."

Attorney Lawson's video window lit up. "A typical 'legal blacklisting.' They don't directly ban you from releasing songs; instead, they make your songs lose distribution channels, radio airplay, and commercial cooperation opportunities."

"Can we fight back?" Marcus asked.

"We can, but it requires a smarter strategy." Lawyer Lawson pushed up his glasses. "We need to establish our own independent distribution network before Northrop completes its layout."

Alex was already thinking about this problem. With the support of his [Crossover Communicator] ability, he could see the fragile links in the music industry—in the streaming era, the monopoly of traditional record companies was crumbling. If an independent creator had sufficient content quality and a fan base, they could completely bypass mainstream channels.

"We need three things." He wrote them down on the whiteboard. "First, our own content platform—not just a YouTube channel, but a complete independent media matrix. Second, channels to connect directly with fans—email subscriptions, exclusive communities, offline events. Third, stable income sources—we can't just rely on donations and crowdfunding."

Taylor raised her hand. "I can have my team provide technical support. My tour website has a mature fan management system that can be shared."

"But we can't be tied too closely," Alex reminded her. "If Northrop decides to pressure you..."

"Let them try." Taylor smiled. "My next album contract is still under negotiation. If Universal Music gives me up under pressure, Warner and Sony will be scrambling to sign me. And—" she paused, "the option for independent release has always been on the table. I've just been waiting for the right moment."

Alex looked at her. This was Taylor Swift—in the original timeline, she did indeed switch companies later due to copyright disputes and ultimately re-recorded all her albums. She had an independent spirit in her bones.

"Then let's start the layout." Alex sketched a framework on the whiteboard. "Within two weeks, we're launching the 'Voice of Truth' independent platform. Phase one: Music distribution channels. Phase two: Documentaries and article columns. Phase three: Offline event organization and community management."

Marcus recorded rapidly. "What about the technical team?"

"Organization D can provide the basic architecture," Alex said. "But they're better at back-end technology; the front-end user experience needs a professional team."

"I can contact my friends in Silicon Valley," Taylor said. "Several startups have done similar creator platforms; they might be willing to cooperate."

The plan was taking shape. But Alex knew that a platform alone wasn't enough; it needed to be filled with continuous high-quality content. This was the third song he had prepared.

---

7:00 PM · Recording Studio

Alex opened a new creative file.

He searched through his memory bank. What other phenomenal songs were there from 2011-2012? Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe" didn't fit the style. Adele's "Rolling in the Deep"... the style was too mature, not suitable for his voice.

Wait. There was one song.

Maroon 5's "Moves Like Jagger." Released in June 2011, it peaked at number four on the Billboard chart, but its commercial success and popularity were extremely high. More importantly—the original version of this song was about Mick Jagger's stage charisma, but if the lyrics were rewritten...

Alex pulled up the [Creative Master] interface. He began to reconstruct the song: keeping the original's iconic whistling intro and retro funk rhythm, but changing the melodic progression to make it more suitable for narrative lyrics.

The direction of the lyrics? Not a direct protest, but... a metaphor for temptation and betrayal.

He wrote the first verse:

"You say you have the perfect moves... you say every promise you make will be kept... but as I get closer, I find... there are blades hidden in your moves..."

For the chorus, he kept the original's soaring, infectious melodic line but changed the lyrics:

"But you can't see my moves! Can't see how I'm dodging your lies! I have my own rhythm! On the stage of truth, I won't stop!"

Three hours later, the full demo was complete. This time he didn't call the team immediately, but listened to it himself a few times first.

The system evaluation popped up: [Commercial Potential: 89%] [Emotional Impact: 76%] [Dissemination Forecast: 92%].

Good scores. But this song needed better production—the original's retro synthesizers and funk basslines required professional arrangement.

He checked the time; it was ten o'clock at night. Taylor should still be around.

He sent a message: "Have a new song demo, need arrangement suggestions."

Five minutes later, Taylor pushed the door open, her face showing exhaustion after work but an inquisitive light.

"Another new song so soon?"

"The creativity won't stop." Alex played the demo.

Taylor listened with her eyes closed. When the whistling intro sounded, she raised an eyebrow. During the chorus, her fingers began to tap the table in time with the rhythm.

When the playback ended, she opened her eyes. "This song... is very smart. It sounds like a pop dance track, but the lyrics are saying something else."

Alex admitted, "I wanted to make a song... on the surface it's about the stage and performance, but actually it's about how Northrop performs 'innocence' and how they 'move gracefully' to avoid responsibility."

Taylor nodded. "And the melody is catchy enough to be played on commercial radio. Radio DJs won't look too deeply into the lyrics, but listeners who understand will share a knowing smile."

"I need professional arrangement. A retro funk feel..."

"Leave it to me." Taylor had already taken out her tablet and started taking notes. "I know an arranger in Los Angeles who specializes in this style. But we need a release timing—not too close, 'Radioactive' is still on the rise."

"Two weeks later," Alex said. "Released on November 14th. Then immediately after, on November 21st, we release our duet 'Safe & Sound' as the lead single for the documentary."

Taylor calculated the timeline. "Four songs in three weeks, plus Taylor Swift's name... this will create continuous public opinion heat, making it difficult for Northrop to implement their commercial isolation plan."

"More than that." Alex pulled up the forecast data on the system interface. "If all four songs can enter the Billboard Hot 100 top fifty, I will become the first independent artist in history to release chart-topping songs for three consecutive weeks. That itself is news."

"And it will make the music industry reassess your value," Taylor added. "When you have stable chart performance, distribution companies won't dare to easily give you up because of political pressure—because that would mean giving up profits."

The two looked at each other and smiled. This was the unspoken understanding between creators, and the alliance between warriors.

---

1:00 AM · Northrop Headquarters

Montero was still in her office, even though she had been "suspended pending investigation." Three lyric printouts were spread across her desk—"Rebirth," "The One I Used to Know," and "Radioactive"—every line densely marked with her notes.

She was looking for loopholes. Any entry point where a legal attack could be launched.

But Alex Su was too smart. No, not just smart, he was... proficient. Proficient in how to create on the legal boundary, how to fight within commercial rules, and how to navigate public sentiment.

Her phone vibrated. It was an encrypted message from CEO Howard, sent while he was on "vacation."

[Howard]: "The board's latest decision: abandon the legal head-on attack and turn to a long-term war of attrition. We have a three-step plan: first, apply pressure through industry associations to cut off their commercial cooperation channels; second, create 'aesthetic fatigue' at the media level—make the public feel like they're 'always repeating the same topic'; third, wait for them to make a mistake."

Montero replied, "What if they never make a mistake?"

[Howard]: "Everyone makes mistakes. Especially... when the pressure is coming from all directions."

She put down her phone and looked out the window. In the Nashville night, she could imagine Alex Su in some safe house, preparing the next song, the next battle.

A sense of powerlessness washed over her. Northrop had lawyers, lobbyists, and massive funds. But the opponent had... melodies. Lyrics. The ability to reach the hearts of millions.

In this era, which side was more powerful?

She didn't know the answer. But she knew that this war had exceeded her scope of understanding. This wasn't a corporate lawsuit or a political game; it was... a culture war.

And she hadn't fully learned the rules of a culture war yet.

---

Alex wasn't asleep yet. He was checking the effects of his newly exchanged abilities on the system interface.

[Crossover Communicator] allowed him to clearly see the dissemination network of "Radioactive"—spreading from music platforms to political forums, then to university campuses, and finally beginning to appear as background music in mainstream television programs. A late-night talk show host had used a clip of the song while mocking politicians, triggering a new round of dissemination.

[Legal Boundary Insight] was continuously providing warnings. Just now, it flagged a potential risk: a law firm associated with Northrop was studying whether the word "radioactive" in the lyrics constituted "commercial defamation"—claiming the term implied that Northrop's products had radioactive hazards.

Alex laughed. Such an accusation was too far-fetched, but if Northrop actually raised it, it would only gain the song more attention.

He closed the system interface and opened the lyric file for the adapted version of "Moves Like Jagger." With the support of [Creative Master], the words were automatically optimized; every metaphor became more precise, and every pun became more clever.

This was no longer a simple "port." This was true creation—based on inspiration from another world, but completely integrated into the context of this world, responding to the dilemmas of this era.

He wrote the final verse of the lyrics:

"They say you've already won... say your moves are unmatched... but you can't see... the audience below the stage... has already started to leave..."

Finished writing, he saved the file and looked out the window.

The Nashville night was very quiet. But beneath this quiet, he could feel something gathering—not anger, not protest, but something more enduring: a slow but irreversible shift in public consciousness.

When millions of people began to use the same melody to think about the same problem, that problem was no longer a "controversy," but a "consensus."

And consensus eventually turns into power.

The system interface flickered one last time:

[Total Fame Growth Today: +148,000 points]

[Current Fame: 7,556,000 points]

Alex turned off the computer. He knew that when the adapted version of "Moves Like Jagger" was released, Northrop would understand one thing:

This war was no longer any war they were familiar with.

This was a war fought with melodies.

And on this battlefield, they had not yet found an effective weapon.