From American Internet Celebrity to God Among Men

152: Chapter 152 Old Cameras on the ListIn the vision of [Energy Perception], the certain quality it carried was like a small, strange crystal continuously emitting a faint, low-temperature radiation. Prolonged contact would cause an imperceptible sense of mental fatigue and detachment.

He encrypted the file, stored it in an isolated sector of the high-security private server provided by The Architect, and set up complex biometric keys and access logs.

This was not fear, but the caution due to the ”unknown.” He temporarily pushed this matter to the back of his mind and returned his attention to the real world under the sun.

The fourth week theme of ”Echo Puzzle,” ”Echoes of Childhood,” went live, triggering a new wave of nostalgia.

Users uploaded 8-bit game sound effects, static noise from old televisions, carousel music, the popping sounds of bubble wrap...

When Alex was filtering through them, [Energy Perception] allowed him to more keenly capture the exceptionally strong emotional energy contained in certain sound clips—a kind of clean, longing-filled joy.

He specifically selected several such sounds to serve as the emotional core for the new week’s co-created song.

During work breaks, he tried to use his new ability more precisely.

For instance, when monitoring a mix, he could vaguely ”feel” the ”energy profile” of the sound beyond physical sound waves, allowing him to fine-tune the balance so that the final product not only sounded pleasant but also had a strange, ”heart-touching” smoothness.

This could not be quantified, but after listening to several demos, Taylor pointed out with certainty that the latest version ”sounds especially comfortable, as if the sounds found their own places in my brain.”

The ability was silently merging into his professional instincts, becoming a secret footnote to his ”genius.”

The Zack Snyder film project entered the specific sound ”casting” phase.

The team needed to find or create a series of iconic sound ”characters” for the concept of the ”Graveyard of Memories.”

Alex did not work behind closed doors; he once again utilized the community power of ”Echo Puzzle” to launch a sub-project: ”Finding Lost Sounds.”

They solicited short audio clips carrying a strong sense of time-worn wear, loneliness, or being forgotten.

The response was unprecedented; among the submissions was even a recording from an Antarctic research station of ice sheets groaning as they cracked in the eternal night, filled with ultimate solitude.

Alex and Taylor, along with the sound design team, immersed themselves in listening to a massive number of ”sound characters.”

This process was like selecting actors for a silent film; every sound needed to have a unique personality and narrative potential.

Relying on her musician’s keenness, and with Alex combining his intuition for the ”energy texture” of sound brought by [Energy Perception], the two worked in perfect harmony and quickly screened a batch of highly expressive candidate ”characters.”

The project progressed so quickly that even the film producers were somewhat surprised.

Meanwhile, ”The Masked Singer” seemed to have fallen into a certain predicament.

In the third episode, they tried to add an interactive segment where ”audience real-time voting changes the competition format,” but technical glitches occurred frequently, voting was delayed, and the credibility of the results was damaged, leading instead to a wave of ridicule.

A meme started circulating online: ”’The Masked Singer’ isn’t imitating ’phantom singer’; it’s demonstrating ’how to make a show full of regrets with a top-tier budget.’”

When Marcus reported this, his mouth was almost stretching to his ears.

”No need to kick them while they’re down,” Alex said, in a good mood, waving his hand.

”Post an official update, just say that we, ’phantom singer,’ are honored to inspire peers in exploring music variety show formats, and look forward to more innovation to jointly enrich audience choices. The tone should be sincere, and the outlook should be broad.”

This was truly killing the heart, nothing more.

This update was screenshotted and spread widely, becoming the last straw that crushed the opponent’s reputation.

Commercial competition is sometimes that simple: you struggle with all your might, while I easily walk my own path, incidentally waving at you to show encouragement.

On Friday night, Alex and Taylor spent the night at their newly purchased Malibu seaside studio.

Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows was the pitch-black Pacific Ocean, with only the regular beam of a distant lighthouse sweeping across.

The soundproofing here was excellent, and the energy field was clean and pure, with only the ceaseless low-frequency energy surging of the ocean waves, making one’s mind calm and peaceful.

The two were not working; they were just curled up on the sofa, sharing a pair of headphones, listening to a very old blues record.

The background noise of the needle scratching, the singer’s hoarse confiding, were amplified in the silent seaside night, carrying a tenderness of time standing still.

”Sometimes I feel,” Taylor said softly, her head resting on his shoulder, ”that we are like building a very large, very complex set of building blocks. Music, shows, films, platforms... piece by piece, not knowing what it will look like in the end, but every time we place a piece, it feels steady, and I’m very happy.”

”Then let’s keep building.”

Alex held her hand, his fingertips able to feel her stable life energy field, warm and full of creativity. ”Building until we both feel that this is what the world we want looks like.”

No more words.

Some goals, some companionship, need not be spoken aloud all the time.

On the weekend, the third resource list from ”Spirit of the Wasteland” arrived.

This list was a bit different.

The first part was still expensive professional acoustic and sensor equipment, but at the end, a new item was added that looked exceptionally... ordinary? Even somewhat outdated.

It was a purchase request for ”specific models (listing three models produced in the 1970s-80s) of open-reel tape recorders, and their accompanying unopened blank tapes.”

The requirement was for the machines to be in good condition, with no wear on the magnetic heads, preferably new old stock or excellent collectibles. Quantity: at least two units.

Attached was a brief note: ”Used for comparative experiments in recording analog signals in specific frequency bands. Digital equipment has insurmountable deficiencies in certain extreme low frequencies and ’atmosphere carrying’ aspects. Priority of this requirement: High.”

Open-reel tape recorders?

Alex looked at this item that was so out of place with the previous high-tech lists, thoughtful.

Combined with the indescribable quality in that ”inhuman singing” audio that seemed to carry the ”weight of time,” he seemed to understand a little.

Was the other party not only studying the frequency and intensity of sound, but also exploring the influence of the ”carrier” and ”medium” of sound itself on information preservation?

Or rather, in some extreme conditions, could old-fashioned analog recording methods actually capture ”certain things” that digital equipment would filter out or lose?

This idea was very interesting and also vaguely pointed to a deeper realm.

He immediately instructed Marcus: ”Use all collection channels and contacts of vintage technology equipment dealers to search for these tape recorders and blank tapes on the list with all your might. Spare no expense, and get the best condition possible. Also...”

He paused, ”in the name of the company’s technical archives department, discreetly solicit whether there are any experts within the company or among partners who understand the maintenance and calibration of these old machines, and sign them to temporary consultant contracts.”

After giving the instructions, he stood alone in front of the office window.

The setting sun gilded the skyline of Los Angeles.

In his blurred vision of [Energy Perception], the city’s massive energy network pulsed slowly, with the vast majority being the radiation of orderly artificial creations.

But in some corners, perhaps there also existed ”abnormal echoes” like that ”underground singing,” ancient, faint, and waiting for a specific ”medium” to be re-read.

”Spirit of the Wasteland” was like a key, trying to open a door that had been forgotten for a long time.

And he, Alex, was both the patron providing the parts for the key and gradually becoming a curious observer by the door.

He glanced at the system interface; the available popularity had quietly climbed.

The path of management was moving forward steadily; the landscape of the extraordinary occasionally revealed its grandeur. This feeling was very good.