97: Chapter 97 Dance Steps, Rehearsals, and Silent Battle

Alex decided to change the tempo for himself and his team.

Early in the morning, he gathered the core members in the relatively spacious lounge area of the studio.

"Everyone, it's the final two days. Staring at screens and checklists won't help." He clapped his hands, his face wearing his signature relaxed smile. "Let's get practical and simulate the—accidents—that might happen on the night of the live stream."

Marcus pushed up his glasses: "Accidents? We've written seventeen pages of contingency plans..."

"That's just talk on paper." Alex interrupted him, pointing to Hank and Rex. "You two are now the 'Troublemaking Squad.' Assume you've been hired by Northrop, or are just pure internet trolls looking to create chaos during the live stream. You have ten minutes to come up with ideas—the trickier, the better. Marcus, you're in charge of playing the live control console and responding. Lauren, you're responsible for evaluating from a legal and PR perspective. As for me, I'm the unlucky guy who has to keep smiling and keep singing on stage."

This sudden role-playing game stunned everyone for a moment, but then they all showed expressions of interest. The pressure transformed into a slightly stimulating challenge.

Hank and Rex exchanged glances and immediately got into character. Hank rubbed his chin: "The simplest one: large-scale spamming of junk comments to disrupt the audience's view and mood."

Marcus immediately responded: "Preset keyword blocking, upgrade filter algorithms, arrange for the moderator team to clean up in real-time, and simultaneously prepare a witty script to soothe the audience."

Lauren added: "We can emphasize the consequences of malicious spamming in the user agreement and live streaming guidelines in advance, reserving the right to hold them accountable, although it mainly serves as a deterrent."

Rex followed up with a move: "Assume... the live stream signal suddenly cuts out, or there's severe lagging."

Marcus frowned: "Switch to backup streaming lines; the anti-interference protocol provided by Organization D is already in place. At the same time, all social media accounts will immediately post announcements to explain the situation and stabilize the audience."

Alex nodded: "If the interruption is short, I'll improvise an a cappella or tell a lame joke on stage to kill time. If it's long... it turns into a 'Technical Glitch Special Commemorative Edition' interactive Q&A."

Hank thought for a moment, then revealed a somewhat "naughty" smile: "What if... someone at the scene (assuming there are a small number of invited audience members) suddenly stands up and loudly questions you, saying your song is plagiarized or was written in advance?"

This question made the atmosphere tighten slightly. This was the blow most targeted at the core of "improvisational creation."

Marcus looked at Alex. Alex rubbed his chin, but instead laughed: "This is interesting. First, security personnel will quickly but politely ask that friend to leave—this is the live streaming discipline stated in advance. Then, I will pause the music and look at the camera."

He simulated the scene, his tone calm but carrying unquestionable confidence: "I will say: 'Hey, it seems tonight's creative spark didn't just ignite the music, but also ignited some extra passion. Questioning is everyone's right. But I invite everyone to judge with your ears and hearts from here on out. This song, from the first note to its current progress, was born in this space, at this time, in real-time. Let's continue and let the work itself speak.'"

He paused, then added: "At the same time, Marcus, the backstage should immediately pull up the multi-angle backup video of the creation process during that time—aren't we recording close-ups of the creation with multiple cameras the whole time? If necessary, we can release clips as evidence. But it's best not to; that would be falling into the trap of self-justification. We must maintain a high stance."

Lauren noted the key points: "The response is appropriate; it controls the scene, brings the focus back to the music itself, and demonstrates confidence. Legally, we own the rights to all video and audio from the scene, so it's controllable."

After a round of simulated offense and defense, the team's tacit understanding and emergency thinking were activated, and the original anxiety was replaced by concrete response plans. Alex watched the passionately discussing group, feeling very satisfied. He didn't need a team that was wound so tight it was fragile; he needed a team that could respond flexibly and even enjoy the challenge.

At noon, he kept his promise and ordered a sumptuous takeout meal to reward everyone. During the meal, he announced the "little interactive surprise" that he had "discussed" with Universal.

"When the live stream reaches the halfway point, the song framework is basically formed, and we need to fill in a bridge or decide the arrangement direction for the final chorus," Alex said, biting into his pizza, muffled but clear. "I will pause for a moment and let the audience vote via the Twitter topic we posted in advance, choosing one of two options. For example, do they prefer adding a passionate electronic sound effect, or returning to a pure piano? The voting time is limited to 90 seconds. We will display it on the live stream screen using real-time data visualization."

Marcus's eyes lit up: "This is great! The sense of participation is extremely strong, the voting results directly influence the final appearance of the work, and the topic engagement and reach will definitely explode! Plus, it perfectly fits the concepts of 'improvisation' and 'co-creation'!"

Lauren also nodded: "Technically feasible. Legally, we just need to clarify the rules and declare the right of final interpretation to avoid disputes."

Hank laughed: "The audience will feel like they are truly participating in making history."

"Exactly." Alex wiped his hands. "This is the effect we want. To make the live stream not just a performance, but an event, a collective game. The buzz and 'phenomenal' status that Universal wants—this is an important component."

In the afternoon, they conducted the first and only full-process technical rehearsal. There was no real creation, just blocking, camera scheduling, lighting changes, sound effects testing, and simulating the "90-second voting" segment process. Technical support personnel provided by Organization D connected remotely to test signal stability and anti-interference capabilities. Everything went smoothly.

During a break in the rehearsal, Alex received an encrypted message from an unknown number, with only a short sentence: "Beware of the sound. It's not just one kind."

"Front Row Audience." Alex silently recited in his heart. He replied with a "?", but no further explanation came back. Sound? Does it refer to the voice of public opinion, or... physical sound interference? He kept it in mind, but didn't panic; he just privately reminded Rex and Hank to pay attention to any abnormal audio equipment or signal sources at the live stream site and its surroundings.

In the evening, Taylor sent a message. It was a photo of her holding a guitar, sitting on a sofa with her home living room in the background, warm lighting, looking very cozy. Postscript: "Surprise inspection failed (referring to not coming in the morning), replenishing a bit of 'good luck rays.' Don't stay up too late, save your energy."

Alex looked at the photo, smiled, and replied with a "received energy" emoji. This kind of simple, direct care was more reassuring than any grand words.

At night, he stayed in the studio alone. He didn't continue working, but instead opened a music player and listened to some completely unrelated music—classical symphonies, electronic instrumentals, and even some local folk operas. He was letting his brain relax, and also letting the Creative Master and Style Fusion Perception abilities roam freely in his subconscious, absorbing the most primitive nutrients.

Before going to sleep, he routinely "checked" the system.

[Current Popularity: 10,318,450 points]

Growth was steady. Live stream warm-ups, daily updates, and even the tweets responding to Urban Rhythm were continuously bringing in a steady stream of gains.

[Priority Redemption Target] was still hanging there quietly.

He "browsed" through those price tags that easily reached twenty or thirty million, his heart without a ripple, even feeling a bit expectant. It was like looking at a game that takes a long time to clear, but you know the rewards are incredibly generous, and the game process itself is full of fun.

Northrop's imitators? Universal's expectations? Potential interference?

Alex turned off the lights and lay down on the studio sofa. The city's light pollution outside the window made the starry sky dim, but he seemed to be able to see further away.

In everyone's eyes, he was an internet celebrity seriously preparing for an important live stream.

Only he himself knew that he was paving the way for a sufficiently magnificent and reasonable starting point for his "path to becoming a god."

48 hours before the live stream, everything was ready. The center of the storm was, conversely, the most tranquil.

The day before the live stream, Alex woke up earlier than his alarm.

It wasn't nervousness; the biological clock brought on by the third stage of his physical constitution was terrifyingly precise, coupled with a little bit of... excitement.

He lay in bed, not getting up immediately, letting his consciousness wander.

Today, there was no need for high-intensity simulations or rehearsals.

The technical team and the people from Organization D would conduct one final end-to-end stress test.

Marcus would keep an eye on the final sprint of the pre-heating data.

Hank and Rex would scan the live stream venue again like scanners.

Lauren would confirm the final versions of all legal documents and emergency contingency plans.

His task was simple: maintain his state and keep a good mood.

At ten in the morning, when he appeared at the studio, he was carrying several paper bags containing a full set of drinks and freshly baked croissants from the best-rated coffee shop nearby.

"Supplies have arrived!" His voice was light and cheerful, instantly attracting all the team members who wore dark circles or tight expressions.

"Boss, you really are..." Marcus took a cup of strong Americano and smiled bitterly, "We're so busy we're about to spark, and you look like you're here for an outing."

"Busy as we are, we still need to drink coffee and replenish sugar." Alex grabbed a latte for himself and sat down comfortably on the sofa in the lounge area, "Tell me, what 'unexploded bombs' are left? While I'm in a good mood, let's clear them all out."

The atmosphere relaxed subtly.

Everyone shared the breakfast while reporting.

The technical team leader said that the signal redundancy line tests had all passed, and the anti-interference protocols were running stably.

Marcus said that Universal Music had added a significant amount to the social media promotion budget, but it came with a more detailed data expectation report.

"They're even more anxious than we are," he concluded.

Hank said the venue security check was complete, and monitoring for suspicious signals in the surrounding area was ongoing, with no abnormalities so far.

Lauren said all documents had been signed and were legally binding.

"Sounds like everything is ready." Alex took a sip of coffee, his gaze sweeping over everyone, "Then, the only variable is those few dozen minutes I'll be on stage tomorrow night, right?"

Everyone nodded.

"So," Alex stood up and clapped his hands, "After three o'clock this afternoon, except for necessary shift monitoring, everyone is required to rest.

At six in the evening, my treat, barbecue.

As for the location..." He thought for a moment, "Let's book that 'Old Smoker' rib joint and reserve the backyard.

Hank, Rex, do a security assessment."

Hank was stunned for a moment, exchanged a glance with Rex, and then grinned: "That shop's backyard has good privacy.

We'll clear the area and set up security in advance, no problem."

"Long live the boss!" Someone shouted, and a burst of relaxed laughter and applause rang out in the studio.

The team, under high pressure, really needed this kind of relaxation filled with the warmth of life.

After handling the trivial matters, Alex returned to his creative corner without opening his computer or musical instruments.

He took out a sketchbook and a pencil and began to sketch casually.

They weren't musical scores, but rather abstract shapes, lines, and even fragmented scenes from his memories: the ceiling of that small apartment in 2010 when he experienced his Rebirth, the sunlight when filming his first short video, the points of light waved by the crowd at the war concert, the silhouette of Taylor humming with her head down in the music room... and also, the names of extraordinary abilities and astronomical price tags that flickered with alluring light on the system interface.

This was a form of mental organization and sedimentation.

The rustling sound of the pencil sliding across the paper made him feel a strange sense of calm.

He knew he was ready.

This didn't refer to the core motifs of the songs he had "brought over," nor the contingency plans for various accidents, but a more core state: he enjoyed this process, enjoyed standing under the spotlight, enjoyed using the "gifts" of the future to create miracles in the present, and even more, he enjoyed that secret happiness known only to himself as he steadily advanced toward the extraordinary.

In the afternoon, he received a call from Richard, the Vice President of Universal Music.

The other party's tone was more polite than when they last met, but it also revealed a trace of imperceptible tension.

"Alex, is everything going smoothly?"

"Very well, Richard.

The team is in top condition, the technology is foolproof, and my personal 'creative engine' has also finished pre-heating." Alex said in a relaxed tone.

"That's good... that's good." Richard paused, "The board of directors has high expectations for tomorrow's data.

You know, 'phenomenal' isn't just about popularity; it also requires the manifestation of sustainable commercial value..."

"Richard," Alex gently interrupted him, "Tomorrow night, there will be popularity, and there will be commercial value.

But I need you to pass a message to the board for me: if we only focus on immediate data, we might miss something more long-term—a brand capable of continuously creating phenomenal events.

And tomorrow is just a grand debut for this brand.

Relax and wait to see a good show."

His words carried an unquestionable confidence, transmitted through the airwaves.

Richard was silent for a few seconds, seemingly relieved: "...I understand.

I wish you all the best tomorrow, Alex.

Universal will support you fully."

"Thank you."

Hanging up the phone, Alex shrugged.

The expectations of capital were always impatient, but he had his own, more leisurely rhythm.

In the evening, the backyard of the 'Old Smoker' rib joint.

Charcoal fires were lit, and the aroma of meat filled the air.

Team members, along with several core technical support staff, sat around together, not talking about work, just chatting, laughing, and grabbing food.

Alex personally poured drinks (non-alcoholic) for everyone and told some harmless jokes.

Although Hank and Rex maintained a certain level of vigilance, their expressions were also noticeably relaxed.

Taylor also came, still keeping a low profile, sitting beside Alex.

She didn't say much, just eating quietly, occasionally pursing her lips in a smile when Alex made a witty remark, or gently patting him when everyone was teasing him.

Her presence itself was like a silent comfort.

As the dinner was about to end, Alex raised the soda in his hand: "To everyone.

After tomorrow night, no matter the result, we have created something special together.

Thank you for your professionalism, persistence, and... for tolerating a boss like me who sometimes doesn't play by the rules.

Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Everyone laughed and clinked glasses, the atmosphere warm and high-spirited.

Late at night, Alex walked Taylor back to the downstairs of her apartment building.

"Tomorrow, I will be in the control room watching." Taylor looked up at him, the streetlights reflecting fragmented light in her eyes, "Don't be under pressure."

"With you watching, I will only perform better." Alex said with a smile, his tone sincere.

Taylor hugged him gently, very briefly, but firmly.

"Go on, get some good rest.

Tomorrow... watch you shine."

Returning to his apartment, the world became completely quiet.

Alex took a hot shower and changed into comfortable pajamas.

Before going to bed, he "checked" the system one last time; it was more like a ritual.

【Current Popularity: 10,365,220 points】

(The attention before the live stream is continuously transforming into tangible influence.)

【Priority Redemption Targets】 still flashing.

【Status: Healthy, energetic, abilities ready.】

He stared at the number, imagining what it might swell to after tomorrow night, a ripple of pleasure rising in his heart.

Then, he calmly closed the interface.

Outside the window, Los Angeles was still brightly lit; people behind countless screens might be discussing tomorrow's live stream, or might be completely unaware.

In Northrop's conference room, they might still be planning last-minute interference.

The board of Universal might still be arguing.

But these things were far away from him at this moment.

He was just an internet celebrity ready to take the stage, a happy young man with a small secret, a future extraordinary being walking calmly on his own unique path.

Alex lay in bed and closed his eyes.

His breathing was steady, his heartbeat strong.

On the eve of the live stream, the starlight seemed exceptionally bright.

He sank into a dreamless sleep, like the calmest bay before a storm arrives.