85: Chapter 85 The Eye of the Storm and the Sound Field

The third Wednesday of November, 48 hours before the official release of "Safe & Sound".

On the seventh floor of an unassuming office building in downtown Nashville, inside the temporary command center rented by Rex's team, the air held the tension of a wartime command post. A wall of six display screens refreshed data streams in real-time: social media sentiment analysis, mainstream media coverage tracking, network traffic monitoring, and a dynamic network map labeled "Threat Source Map".

Alex stood in front of the screens, holding a cup of coffee that had already gone cold. He had arrived at five in the morning, two hours earlier than the scheduled team briefing.

The system interface unfolded quietly at the edge of his vision:

【Current Popularity: 7,635,000 points】

【Ability Status: Spider-Sense (Intermediate) - Continuous environmental scanning; Information Tracing (Advanced) - Standby】

【Detected surge in coordinated media activity: 37 sources, intensity 72/100 and rising】

"They've started," Marcus said, walking into the room with a stack of freshly printed report pages still warm to the touch. "The Wall Street Journal's digital edition this morning, third item in the business section."

Alex took the report. The headline was restrained: "Commercial Risks and Background Checks for Emerging Artists—What Investors Need to Know".

The article used the valuation adjustment mechanism agreement between Alex Su and Universal Music as its entry point, spending two-thirds of the space "objectively analyzing" investment risks in the entertainment industry, but inserted content "according to anonymous sources" in the last three paragraphs:

· Mentioning Alex's father "had participated in multiple defense-related research projects".

· Hinting that his mother's family "has long-term collaborations with overseas academic institutions".

· Citing a "comment from an education expert who wished to remain anonymous", claiming "adolescent artists who have experienced major trauma may require additional psychological support".

Every statement was true. Every statement had been stripped of context.

"A classic surgical strike," Rex said, standing in front of another screen displaying the article's network dissemination path. "No lies, just guiding you to think in a certain direction."

Hank looked up from the security monitoring console: "Agent Miller from the FBI just sent an encrypted message. Northrop's media team has booked 'brand partnership feature slots' with twelve mainstream media outlets this week, all within the next seven days."

"Covering our release window," Alex said, putting down the report. ""Safe & Sound" goes live on Friday; their 'in-depth reports' start rolling out on Saturday."

Marcus pulled up a schedule: "What's worse is that they bought time slots. Saturday morning news talk shows, Sunday print media in-depth features, the radio talk show series starting next Monday... This is a saturation bombing."

The room fell silent for a few seconds, save for the low hum of server fans.

Just then, the door was pushed open. Taylor walked in, wearing no sunglasses or disguise, her blonde hair simply tied back, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and jeans. She held a tablet in her hand.

"I received this," she said, placing the tablet on the central conference table. "Sent by the personal assistant to the Chairman of the Board of Universal Music, saying it was 'for reference only'."

On the screen was a screenshot of an email, the sender's email address ending in the Northrop Grumman corporate domain. The content was brief: an invitation for Universal Music executives to attend an "Industry and National Security Symposium" scheduled for after Thanksgiving, with a bolded note attached— "The latest risk assessments regarding certain crossover art projects will be shared at that time."

"A threat wrapped as an invitation," Taylor's voice was dangerously calm. "They want Universal to choose between us and their military industry."

Alex looked at the email. With two days left until the release of "Safe & Sound", the enemy's first wave of pressure had already been precisely delivered to all key nodes: public opinion, business partners, and even potential sympathizers.

"Is the Organization D system ready?" he asked.

Marcus nodded: "The fact-checking response platform is online, the AI engine training is complete, and the manual review team of twenty-four people is working in three shifts. Whenever any report involving you appears, we can release a comprehensive response within seven minutes, complete with links to original documents and context analysis."

"Not fast enough," Alex said, walking toward the console. "Give me operational access. I've had special training in information analysis—I can quickly locate factual gaps and legal risk points within text."

Marcus paused for a moment: "What kind of training?"

"My father taught me," Alex told a half-truth, his fingers already tapping on the keyboard. "He was a materials scientist, but he also served as an expert witness in patent litigation. He had a method for analyzing documents, and I... I remembered it."

The explanation barely held up. Marcus hesitated for a moment before pulling up the highest access interface: "Are you sure? This will leave you completely exposed on the information front lines. Those reports... they won't be pretty."

"I've seen worse," Alex's voice remained flat, his eyes fixed on the newly created "Real-time Countermeasure Protocol" interface on the screen. "And this time, we have a weapon."

Not firearms, but the truth. The complete, uncut truth.

His system abilities quietly activated at a conscious level: 【Information Tracing】 scanned the incoming information flow like a precise probe, while 【Legal Boundary Insight】 glowed faintly at every potential risk point. But to the outside world, he was just a young man with "special analytical training."

---

At 10:00 AM, the first wave of formal attacks arrived.

It wasn't the subtle probing like the Wall Street Journal, but a headline feature on the National Newsweek website: "Trauma, Talent, and Manipulation—Analyzing the Shadows Behind a Phenomenal Newcomer".

The author was an award-winning investigative journalist with a sharp pen. The piece began with an analysis of the lyrics to "Radioactive", quickly cutting into "internal documents provided by sources"—a full scan of Alex's high school psychological evaluation report.

"The report explicitly stated: 'The subject exhibits a deep distrust of authority systems, accompanied by clear tendencies toward persecutory delusions... It is recommended to continuously observe whether they are suitable for participating in high-stress public activities.'"

Alex sat at the console, his eyes scanning the article paragraphs at a speed far exceeding that of a normal person. 【Information Tracing】 instantly compared this text with the original document in his memory, highlighting the deleted key context. Spider-Sense sent a faint sting—not a threat to him personally, but an instinctive reaction to the distortion of facts.

"Marcus, pull up page 4, paragraph 2 to page 5, paragraph 1 of the original report." His voice was steady, not revealing that he had actually already "seen" the complete comparison.

Three seconds later, the full PDF unfolded on another screen. Alex quickly dictated the annotations:

"The original text immediately following 'tendencies toward persecutory delusions' is: 'These symptoms are common reactions among adolescents who have experienced the unexpected loss of a loved one, and the subject's intensity of expression is below the clinical average.'"

"The next sentence: the prerequisite for 'recommended to continuously observe' is: 'If the subject chooses to pursue a high-exposure profession in the future.' But the report clearly wrote—I told the guidance counselor at the time that I wanted to be an engineer, not an entertainer."

Marcus's eyes widened: "How do you remember that so clearly?"

"I heard those words for three months," Alex lied, expressionless—in reality, 【Information Tracing】 was replaying the memory fragment in real-time. "They deleted 'common reactions' and 'below the clinical average,' and they also deleted the professional prerequisite."

He pressed the red response button. A countdown popped up on the screen: 5... 4... 3...

"Publish response title: 'The Complete Facts Regarding the Psychological Evaluation Report'," Alex dictated, his voice fast and clear. "Paragraph one: Below are scans of the key paragraphs selectively omitted from the original report."

"Paragraph two: Legal note: According to the Tennessee Adolescent Privacy Protection Act, media outlets may face civil litigation for disclosing such documents without the explicit authorization of the subject."

"Paragraph three: Resource link: American Psychological Association's public guidelines on adolescent trauma response."

The countdown hit zero. The system displayed: "Response published—time taken 6 minutes and 52 seconds."

Almost simultaneously, the social media sentiment analysis curve on the screen began to fluctuate. The initial negative peak showed a slight decline after seven minutes, replaced by a massive number of links reposting the complete report paragraphs, along with comments like "Wait, this is not what the article said."

"It's working," Marcus stared at the data. "The traffic for the original paragraph screenshots... is increasing by 2,800 clicks per minute."

Taylor stood behind Alex, her hand resting gently on his shoulder: "Your analysis speed is abnormally fast."

Alex didn't turn his head: "My father said that in patent litigation, the impression of the first three minutes determines 50% of the case."

That "father taught me" explanation again. Taylor didn't press further, but her gaze lingered on his profile for a moment.

Over the next hour, the attacks came one after another.

With every new report that appeared, Alex could instantly pinpoint the most critical points of factual distortion within the time it would take a normal person to read the full text.

His reaction speed was so fast that Marcus needed two assistants just to keep up with his dictated instructions.

Externally, the team attributed this to "stunning talent" and "revenge-driven focus."

Only Alex knew that this was the result of "Information Tracing (Advanced)" performing cross-comparisons at a millisecond level on a conscious level, along with every potential legal risk automatically flagged by "Legal Boundary Insight."

At 1:00 PM, an article titled "The Capital Mystery Behind the Phenomenal Newcomer" appeared, implying that Alex's rapid rise to fame "might be supported by certain overseas cultural promotion funds."

Alex's eyes scanned the article.

"Information Tracing" instantly retrieved his memories of all his bank transactions and collaboration records—of course, there was nothing there.

But more importantly, the ability flagged a subtle inconsistency in the third paragraph of the article: the operating model of the "fund" described by the anonymous source conflicted with the registration requirements for non-profit organizations under 2011 US law.

"Marcus, check this," Alex pointed out the description. "According to the article, that fund should have a specific registration number with the state government. But its operating mode... does not comply with Section 7 of the Nonprofit Organization Transparency Act revised in 2010."

Marcus quickly queried: "You're right... if that mode of operation actually existed, it would have already had its qualification revoked."

"So either the fund doesn't exist, or the article's description is wrong," Alex had already clicked the response button. "This time, we won't refute the fund itself—we will question the authenticity of the description. Title: 'Technical Questioning of the "Overseas Fund" Claim.'"

Nine minutes after the response was published, the article's author added a sentence on Twitter: "Fund operation details are based on source descriptions and have not been independently verified."

"They took a half-step back," Marcus stared at the screen.

"Because they were caught on a technical loophole," Alex said, eyes fixed on the next wave of alerts.

His performance was too abnormal, finally drawing Rex's attention.

The former Navy SEAL walked over to the console and lowered his voice: "Kid, are you sure you just... remembered the methods your father taught you?"

Alex turned his head and looked directly into Rex's eyes: "After my parents died, I spent six months reading every book in my father's study on patent law, material science, and litigation strategy. Sixteen hours a day. Not because I liked it, but because that was the only way I could feel they were still around."

This statement was half-true—he really had read those books, but the ability was the key.

However, using post-traumatic obsessive learning to explain his extraordinary information processing capability made sense psychologically.

Rex was silent for a few seconds, then nodded: "Understood. Continue."

The crisis was temporarily resolved.

Alex refocused on the screen, but he knew in his heart—this near-supernatural performance could not last too long.

He needed to consciously "slow down" and occasionally make small mistakes to make himself look "extremely sharp" rather than "inhuman."

At 6:00 PM, the day's media offensive temporarily came to an end.

Statistical data showed that a total of fourteen major reports were published throughout the day, all of which were responded to in real-time.

The overall social media sentiment index rebounded from the morning's lowest point of "cautiously negative" to "neutrally positive."

More importantly, the Voice of Truth platform gained 380,000 new users that day—many were attracted by this near real-time "factual transparency."

Alex finally left the console and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the night had completely fallen over Nashville.

The system interface popped up a summary:

【Today's Popularity Change: +58,000 points】

【Current Popularity: 7,693,000 points】

【Ability Growth: Information Tracing (Advanced) proficiency significantly increased; Legal Boundary Insight (Primary) → (Intermediate); New Ability Fragment: Public Opinion Warfare Intuition (17%)】

【Mental Exhaustion: High, deep sleep recommended】

Taylor walked up to him and handed him a sandwich: "You haven't eaten anything all day. And your reaction speed... a normal person can't do that kind of thing."

Alex took the sandwich, took a bite, and chewed slowly.

Then he said: "If I told you that after my parents died, there was a period where I was almost photographic, would you believe me?"

Taylor looked at him: "Doctors say that's a form of post-traumatic stress response. Short-term memory enhancement."

"Maybe that's it," Alex continued along this medical explanation, "only mine focused on text, data, and documents."

This explanation was more reasonable than "the methods my father taught me"—neurocognitive anomalies caused by trauma are documented in medical literature.

Taylor was silent for a moment, then gently took his hand: "And what about now? Is it still like that?"

"A bit better," Alex said, "but when I'm under a lot of pressure... it comes back."

This was the perfect cover.

The abnormal performance under pressure could be attributed to post-traumatic stress disorder rather than supernatural abilities.

Taylor nodded and didn't ask any further.

She changed the subject: "Tomorrow will be harder. Today they tested your reaction speed. Tomorrow... they might change tactics."

"I know," Alex said, "but they exposed a weakness."

"What?"

"All their attacks are built on one assumption: the public is easily misled, and memories are short."

He turned around and looked at the screens, "But what if I make certain things impossible to forget?"

Taylor understood: "Like 'Safe & Sound' going live tomorrow."

"Like it being not just a song, but an anchor point." Alex walked back to the console and pulled up the song's release countdown: 22 hours and 14 minutes, "Anchoring all these discussions about trauma, truth, and memory onto something concrete and warm."

He opened a new document titled "Renaissance Plan - Wave Two: memory project."

"When the song is most widely spread, I will release a new song. About the things they try to erase, about the things we choose to remember."

Marcus looked up: "You have a concept?"

"Yes." Alex listed three keywords: Testimony, Monument, Echo.

"How much time is needed for production?"

"Forty-eight hours," Alex said, "if Taylor can help me. If the team can give me a completely enclosed creative space."

Hank and Rex nodded: "We can ensure security."

Just then, Alex's private phone vibrated.

The caller ID was a number he had never seen before, location: Washington, D.C.

He picked up: "Who is this?"

A middle-aged man's voice came from the other end of the line, steady and slightly weary: "Mr. Alex Su? I am Robert Green. Lieutenant Robert Green's father."

Alex gripped his phone tightly.

The father of the pilot who died in the NT-7 crash.

"Mr. Green." Alex's voice softened involuntarily, "I... am very sorry."

"You shouldn't be the one apologizing." The old man's voice was clear, "I watched today's news. Watched it all day. Watched how they tried to turn you into... some kind of problem that needs explaining."

"There is a sentence in the diary my son left behind," Green continued, " 'Truth does not need to be defended, it only needs to be spoken.' He wrote that sentence right after being reprimanded by his superior for reporting hydraulic issues with the training aircraft."

There was a slight intake of breath on the phone.

"Your song is going live tomorrow," the old man said, "I want to tell you one thing: my wife, myself, and Robert's sister, we will listen. And then I will contact every veteran family I know, every parent who has lost a child, and have them listen too."

He paused for a long time.

"We remember. So you don't forget either."

The call ended.

Alex put down his phone and looked at everyone in the command center.

"2.3 million popularity," he said, "not just a number."

That is every person who chooses to listen.

Every person who chooses to remember.

Outside the window, the city's night had deepened.

But somewhere, the song was already in place, waiting to be played.

And further away, the storm was gathering strength again.

But this time, there wasn't just a warrior in the eye of the storm.

There was also a song, and countless voices about to join the chorus.