104: Chapter 104 Fifty thousand people are waiting for him, KING!

Boom!

As the countdown word "one" fell, a huge explosive sound shattered the air.

Beijing Workers Stadium shook violently.

Four sets of giant array speakers blasted out the first heavy bass note.

Twelve columns of cold fireworks shot up into the sky from the edge of the main stage, piercing straight into the night sky.

In the center of the venue, a huge black cloth instantly dropped.

Fifty thousand people in the audience stood up simultaneously, their shouts tearing through eardrums.

"Zhang Yixing!"

"Brother Xing is awesome!"

"Pure white sea! Show him our scale!"

"Number one in Chinese Street Dance!"

"..."

A white light slashed down, vertically slamming right into the center of the stage.

The lifting platform stopped steadily.

Zhang Yixing wore all-white workwear, his short hair dyed silver.

He stood inside the pillar of light, facing the madness of fifty thousand people head-on.

The explosive electronic music prelude sounded.

This was a completely new arrangement.

It did not adopt any old songs from SM Entertainment.

The rhythm pushed forward, pulling the BPM directly to 130, and the manic drumbeats hammered against everyone's heart.

But Zhang Yixing did not move.

He had his back to the fifty thousand audience members.

His right foot pulled back half a step to the rear side.

His knees pressed down, and his center of gravity sank all the way to the bottom.

His right arm drew a rigid straight line in mid-air, his elbow tightly locked, and his fingertips hovered above his right brow bone.

This was a fixed-point pose.

The music roared wildly, and his entire person froze in place.

One second, two seconds, three seconds, four seconds, five seconds.

He stopped for a full five seconds.

The audience in the front area were still cheering.

Yan Yu raised her phone, her hand trembling slightly.

Shen Yun next to her suddenly sat up straight, her pupils constricting.

On the internet.

Yan Yu's six-million-viewer live broadcast room.

Wang Wenjian's three-million-viewer e-sports room.

In countless relay links.

The bullet comments experienced a brief stagnation.

Immediately afterward, an explosive blowout occurred.

[That is... the opening move of 《BABA》!]

[Damn! It really is KING's exclusive opening fixed pose in 《BABA》!]

[Can't he not dance his previous dances? This movement, this freeze... God Su taught him this back then!]

[Am I not seeing things?! Five-second freeze, exact to the second!]

[Crying, Zhang Yixing is risking his life to pay tribute to the senior brother.]

[In that blurry thirteen-person practice room video from the basement back then, Su Chen stood exactly like this!]

[A declaration of war in front of fifty thousand people! Zhang Yixing is telling everyone who taught him his rules!]

[...]

Shanghai, e-sports room.

Wang Wenjian slapped the keyboard with a palm, his eye sockets turning red.

"Did you see that!"

Wang Wenjian roared into the microphone, "This is what brotherhood is! Copyrights can lock down movements, but they can't lock down heritage!"

...

Workers Stadium, third-floor VIP soundproof private box.

Lee Sang-hyeok supported his hands on the monitoring console, staring fixedly at the screen.

"Where is the alarm sound? Why didn't it ring?"

The young legal counsel was covered in sweat, his fingers frantically tapping on the keyboard: "President Lee, the system has no response."

"No response? His opening move is right in our patent database!"

Lee Sang-hyeok grabbed a voice recorder and smashed it onto the table, "Are your AIs all pieces of junk?"

"It's not a system problem!"

The legal counsel brought up a green data line, "He only performed a static opening pose. There are no continuous movements following it. According to copyright law, a single static posture does not constitute substantial plagiarism or infringement, and the system cannot issue trigger instructions. Even if we call a notary office right now, the judge won't accept the case!"

Lee Sang-hyeok bit down hard on his back teeth.

He understood.

Zhang Yixing was playing with them.

Zhang Yixing intentionally used this edge-walking method.

Stepping on their bottom line while ensuring they couldn't catch any handle on him.

The air in the private box was suppressed to the extreme.

Twelve suit-wearing Korean executives could only watch Zhang Yixing on stage with wide eyes.

...

On stage.

Five seconds ended.

Zhang Yixing turned around.

The No. 1 Steadicam slid across the floor, pushing in for a close-up.

On the big screen, Zhang Yixing looked at the camera, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

The corners of his eyes flashed with a hint of moisture under the reflection of the lights.

The next second.

His whole person exploded.

He didn't use the choreography of 《BABA》, nor any moves from the past.

A brand new combination of Krump and Popping.

His arms spread open, his chest cavity exerting force independently.

His muscles presented visible tremors under the lights.

Every fixed point, every heavy beat, he stepped on them firmly and accurately.

The strength was so great that one could even hear the cracking sound of clothing friction.

The audience seating area went completely crazy.

"He dances too fiercely!"

"This explosive power is peerless!"

Shen Yun sat in the front row, staring at Zhang Yixing on stage, slowly nodding.

"All the movements have been changed."

Shen Yun spoke in a deep voice, leaning forward, "But the force-exerting logic hasn't changed at all. This sense of oppression that lifts the core strength of the waist and abdomen to above the chest cavity was taught by Su Chen."

Yan Yu looked at the phone screen: "They are part of the same system."

"Right."

Shen Yun watched Zhang Yixing complete a high-difficulty aerial move supported by one hand, "Koreans only understand mechanical combination movements, they don't understand the soul of exerting force. Today, even if Zhang Yixing just twists around a few times, people in the know can tell that his entire body is full of that man's shadow."

The first song, a full four minutes, featured high-intensity running all over the stage plus heavy Street Dance.

Before the music faded, the accompaniment of the second song seamlessly cut in.

Zhang Yixing tore off his outer white workwear jacket, forcefully throwing it into the audience, revealing a pure black racerback tank top.

The fans' screams were about to blow off the roof of the Workers Stadium.

Three songs in a row.

No backing vocals, entirely live singing.

Sweat dripped along Zhang Yixing's jawline onto the stage, and the pure black tank top was already soaked through.

Not only did he not slow down, but he danced even more crazily.

This was him proving to everyone with absolute strength.

Without the packaging of Korean capital, without their so-called luxury production team.

All by himself, he could still hold down a crowd of fifty thousand people.

These three songs were to prove himself, and also to pave the way for the man behind him.

Time passed minute by minute.

The progress bar reached fifty minutes.

The temperature at the scene had climbed to the peak.

Fifty thousand pure white support sticks formed a huge undulating sea of light in the night.

No one was sitting in their seats.

Everyone was jumping along with the rhythm.

The online viewer count in Wang Wenjian's live broadcast room had broken two hundred thousand.

The viewer count in Yan Yu's live broadcast room even broke seven million!!!

[What a stamina monster! Fifty consecutive minutes without a break!]

[Zhang Yixing is risking his life.]

[My throat is hoarse from shouting! Who else in the Chinese Entertainment Industry can handle a full-mic live performance of this intensity!]

[When on earth is Su Chen coming out?]

[Don't rush! This is only the halftime! The most important grand finale hasn't arrived yet!]

[I'm dying of anxiety, I don't dare blink my eyes for fear of missing KING's appearance!]

[...]

On stage.

The last note of the third set of medleys fell.

The heavy bass throughout the venue stopped abruptly.

High-wattage spotlights from all directions closed simultaneously in this instant.

Beijing Workers Stadium plunged into absolute darkness once again.

All the clamor was abruptly cut off by this sudden darkness.

Only fifty thousand white support sticks emitted a soft halo in the audience seating area.

This was an extremely suppressed tranquility.

In the darkness, only heavy panting could be heard coming from the center of the stage.

The entire audience tacitly closed their mouths.

Yan Yu held her breath.

Shen Yun stopped recording on her tactical board.

Wang Wenjian stared fixedly at the screen, even the bullet comments temporarily stopped scrolling.

In the third-floor private box, Lee Sang-hyeok walked up to the glass, pressing his hands on the tabletop.

He knew that variables were coming.

A solitary white spotlight slashed down from the ceiling.

The pillar of light hit the exact center of the stage.

Zhang Yixing stood in the circle of light.

He lowered his head slightly, his chest rising and falling violently.

Sweat kept dripping down his silver short hair.

He pulled the microphone from behind his waist and held it in his hand.

Fifty thousand people, seven million netizens, and hundreds of media camera lenses.

All waiting for him to speak.