(Joseph Jackson POV)
The roar of thousands washed over like a living tide, each voice blending into a symphony that fed directly into my soul. What should have been crushing exhaustion after such an intense performance instead felt like rejuvenation—energy flowing from the crowd straight into my weary body.
My chest rose and fell rapidly as I tried to catch my breath, but suddenly my racing heartbeat began to steady. The fatigue that should have left drained simply... vanished.
'What is this?' The transformation left stunned.
I gazed across the sea of ecstatic faces, understanding dawning on with thrilling clarity. Their excitent was literally nourishing , their energy becoming mine.
"Yeah! Sing us so more, JJ!"
"Encore! Encore!"
I couldn't suppress the grin spreading across my face. This reception was beyond anything I'd imagined.
'They're performing for just as much as I'm performing for them,' I realized. 'Their cheers, their enthusiasm—it's all directed at , encouraging to give them more. And sohow, that devotion is feeding back into my very being.'
The exchange felt perfect. They gave their energy, and I transford it into music that elevated them in return.
I raised the microphone to my lips and called out: "You want so more?"
"YEAH!" The response hit like a physical force, thousands of voices creating a wall of sound that shook the entire stadium.
"ONE MORE! ONE MORE!" The chant built montum, each repetition growing louder.
With each surge of crowd energy, I felt my power increase exponentially. My vision sharpened until I could perceive colors I'd never noticed before—vibrant hues that seed to emanate directly from their voices. The "Color of Frequency," as my Musical Magic instinctively recognized it, flowed into my magical reserves like liquid light.
The sensation was intoxicating. I leaned into the microphone and shouted: "I can't hear ya!"
"ONE MORE!" This ti their response nearly knocked backward with its intensity, and the energy transfer doubled.
I gestured toward the production crew in the distance. Their expressions showed concern—we were already over the allotted performance ti—but I held their gaze with newfound authority. Whether influenced by the crowd's infectious enthusiasm or my own enhanced presence, they reluctantly started the opening beats.
"Billie Jean" pulsed through the sound system. Backstage, my exhausted dancers straightened with renewed purpose, my magical aura sohow revitalizing them as well. They rushed onto the field once more, ready to give everything they had for one final number.
The crowd's energy continued flowing into , and I knew this performance would surpass anything I'd ever achieved before.
---
(3rd Person POV)
The football audience watched in amazent as Joseph prepared for another song. After thirty minutes of non-stop performance, he should have been exhausted—yet sohow he radiated even more energy than before, like a predator finding its second wind.
He moved into the opening sequence with fluid precision—a backwards glide that defied physics, followed by sharp, angular movents that perfectly synchronized with the beat. "People always told , 'Be careful of what you do,'" he sang, punctuating each word with crisp choreography. "Don't go around breakin' young girls' hearts." He added a distinctive vocal flourish: "Hee-hee!"
That unique sound sent electricity through the stadium. For a mont, the impending football match was completely forgotten.
In the World Cup director's private booth, officials sat transfixed by the performance playing on their monitors. Even the players in their locker rooms had stopped their preparations, drawn to the screens as Joseph's music sohow refreshed and motivated them despite their physical fatigue.
Arthur observed the transformation with keen interest, noting how Joseph's enhanced performance affected everyone around him. Beside him, Firfel swayed unconsciously to the rhythm, her eyes wide with fascination, foot tapping in ti with the beat.
'Fascinating,' Arthur thought, studying the crowd's reactions. 'His Musical Magic doesn't just entertain—it revitalizes. The audience feeds him energy through their enthusiasm, which he transforms and returns to them amplified. Perfect symbiosis.'
It was the ultimate example of mutual benefit—Joseph provided spiritual nourishnt to his fans, while their devotion literally powered his abilities.
In the distance, Kaiser and Scarlet recognized the phenonon as well. 'So this is Musical Magic's true potential,' they both realized.
The energy Joseph absorbed was almost identical to the faith deities received from worshippers, though he could only access it during live performances. Still, each show made him asurably stronger.
"What terrifying potential," a hooded figure in the crowd muttered, his average features concealed beneath a cap. Terror and excitent warred in his expression. 'Such talent is wasted on a re mortal agency. He should join us—the Spirit Order.'
But as "Billie Jean" reached its climax, production staff reluctantly intervened, escorting Joseph toward the backstage despite his obvious desire to continue.
"I love you all!" Joseph called out, leaving his fans desperate for more.
The hooded figure adjusted his hat with a satisfied smirk—then suddenly, ominous black smoke poured from his mouth. "So soon?" he gasped, before his entire deanor shifted.
He looked around at the crowd still chanting for an encore, genuine confusion replacing his earlier calculating expression. "Joseph already perford? No... I missed it completely!"
The man who had expelled the smoke bore no resemblance to his previous self, as if an entirely different consciousness had just vacated his body.
---
The second half of the match resud with palpable energy. Players who had seed drained before halfti now moved with renewed vigor, Joseph's performance having sohow revitalized their competitive spirit.
"We have to win!" beca the unspoken mantra driving both teams forward.
The match transford into sothing spectacular—faster passes, more daring plays, impossible saves that had the crowd on their feet.
"Even the players were affected by Joseph's performance," Firfel observed, watching a midfielder execute a move that should have been beyond his capabilities.
Arthur nodded, then gave her a teasing look. "Though I noticed you were practically dancing in your seat earlier. I thought you weren't particularly fond of his music?"
Firfel's cheeks flushed pink. "That was different. His 'Billie Jean' performance was completely unlike anything from his first thirty minutes. The energy was... overwhelming."
Arthur chuckled. "I think he discovered a new aspect of his Musical Magic."
Firfel humd thoughtfully. Arthur had explained Musical Magic to her before, but she'd never felt such a strong reaction to Joseph's previous performances. Sothing fundantal had changed in his abilities.
Within hours of the World Cup's conclusion, Joseph's electrifying performance dominated every conversation across the Aztec Empire. Television viewers who had watched the broadcast were impressed, but those who had witnessed it in person described sothing transcendent.
"It was addictive watching him perform live," one attendee told reporters. "I've never experienced anything like that with other artists."
"His voice transported sowhere else entirely," another fan gushed. "Like being in paradise."
"I couldn't stop moving to the rhythm—it was like the music was controlling my very soul."
The Hellphone that Arthur had strategically featured throughout Joseph's act also drew significant attention. Since audiences had been chard by Joseph's performance, they naturally beca curious about the device he'd showcased so prominently.
"Did you see that thing he kept using? What was it?"
"So kind of communication device. Worked without any wires."
"If Joseph Jackson uses it, it must be sothing special."
"My friend says it's called a Hellphone—cos from Horn Kingdom."
As word spread, people began connecting the device to recent newspaper reports they'd previously dismissed.
"Wait, isn't that the sa thing the papers were warning about? Said it could be used for spying."
"The governnt's supposedly letting these devices into our empire despite the risks."
"But if Joseph Jackson trusts it enough to use it during his performance..."
"Maybe those newspaper stories were exaggerated. I an, he used it right there in front of everyone."
The conflicted reactions created a buzz of curiosity mixed with concern. While Joseph's performance remained the primary topic, the mysterious Hellphone from Horn Kingdom beca an increasingly discussed subject among his newfound fans.
Shortly after, Hellfire announced Joseph's upcoming "World Tour"—concerts spanning multiple nations. Fans celebrated the news while speculating about which kingdom would host his first official show.
anwhile, as Joseph's na echoed throughout the Aztec Empire, Arthur teleported with Firfel to a remote forest clearing.
"What are we doing in the middle of nowhere?" Firfel asked, glancing around the empty woodland. "Is this where you're hiding my surprise?"
'I expected expensive jewelry, but he brought to this isolated place. It's still daylight here, so we're no longer in the Aztec Empire where evening was falling. He must have sothing unusual planned.'
Arthur remained silent, which made Firfel slightly nervous.
'He wouldn't do anything harmful to , right? No, this is Arthur. I've known him long enough to trust him completely.'
Arthur sensed her unease and chuckled. "Relax. I'm not planning to devour you."
He pressed his palm against the earth. The ground began trembling beneath their feet.
"What's happening?" Firfel grabbed Arthur's arm for stability as the forest floor shifted and bulged upward.
Sothing massive was rising from beneath the soil. Dirt cascaded away in streams, revealing gleaming tal surfaces that caught the fading sunlight. When the earth finally settled, an enormous craft lay before them—a sleek vessel of gold and silver stretching nearly a hundred feet in length, its design unlike any airship she'd ever seen.
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