From American Internet Celebrity to God Among Men

45: Chapter 45: The Prelude to NashvilleAs the plane began its descent over Nashville, Alex looked through the porthole and saw a landscape vastly different from Los Angeles—not a dense urban grid, but gentle hills, winding rivers, and vast stretches of green.

Environmental Perception Enhancement made him notice the subtle changes in the plane’s landing angle, while Crisis Prediction remained quiet—at least for now, there were no immediate threats upon arrival.

While collecting his luggage, he saw a burly man in a leather jacket with a thick beard holding a sign that read ”Alex Su” in handwriting. In the bottom right corner of the sign was an inconspicuous symbol: a camera surrounded by musical notes—the logo of Taylor’s Studio.

”I’m Hank.” The burly man took his luggage cart, his voice deep. ”Taylor sent me to pick you up. The car is outside.”

Hank drove a modified Ford Explorer; the window glass was noticeably thickened, and the chassis looked higher than the standard version. As Alex sat in the passenger seat, he noticed an inconspicuous button area below the center console—likely emergency equipment.

”Taylor said you ran into some trouble in LA,” Hank said bluntly as he started the car. ”Nashville is quieter than LA, but it’s not a sterile room. Do you have any special security requirements?”

Alex thought for a moment. ”I need to know the terrain around my residence, the nearest police station, and reliable local security contacts—if there are any.”

Hank took a tablet from the glove box and handed it over. ”It’s all ready. You’re staying in a safe house under Taylor’s name. The neighborhood is very quiet; the neighbors are all retired musicians and producers. Here are the floor plans and the surrounding environment.”

The information on the tablet was surprisingly detailed: house structural diagrams, security camera coverage, two escape routes, three safe assembly points, and even a patrol schedule for the neighborhood security.

”Taylor arranged this?” Alex asked.

”Taylor suggested it, and I refined it,” Hank said. ”I used to do private security; now I’m Taylor’s Tour Security Director. She knew you were coming and gave special instructions.”

Alex nodded. Taylor’s attentiveness exceeded his expectations—this wasn’t just artistic respect; this was genuine protection.

The car turned onto a tree-lined street and finally stopped in front of a modest-looking detached house. The house was in a typical Southern style, with a spacious front porch and white pillars, but a closer look revealed that the windows were bulletproof glass and the door was solid hardwood with a steel core.

”The password is your birthday plus Taylor’s birthday,” Hank said. ”She insisted on setting it that way—said it’s the only way you’d remember.”

Alex tried it: 0527 (his birthday) plus 1213 (Taylor’s birthday). The door lock made a slight click and opened.

The interior of the house was comfortable: an open living room connected to the kitchen, floor-to-ceiling windows facing the backyard garden, and two bedrooms upstairs, each with an ensuite bathroom. The workspace was already set up—a large workbench, two professional monitors, high-speed internet, and even a small audio interface and studio monitors.

”Taylor said you might need these.” Hank pointed to the equipment. ”The fridge is stocked with three days’ worth of food. If you need more, there’s a partner delivery service on this app. My number is already saved in that phone—”

He pointed to a brand-new smartphone on the workbench. ”—It’s on 24 hours a day. Any time, any problem.”

After Hank left, Alex carefully inspected the entire house. Environmental Interaction Intuition allowed him to quickly understand the spatial layout: which positions were suitable for observing outside, which corners were blind spots, and where simple alarms could be set.

He stuck transparent tape on the inside of the second-floor bedroom window, placed a few empty soda cans on the stairs (which would make noise if moved), and taped a thin thread above the front door handle—if someone opened the door, the thread would break.

They were small tricks, but effective.

After unpacking his luggage, he sent a message to Taylor: ”Arrived safely. The place is perfect, thank you.”

A reply came five minutes later: ”Get some rest. See you at the studio tomorrow morning at ten. Just bring your eyes. —T”