Next up was the Illusionary Sound Choir.
Following them was the Russian Swan Dance, the Indian Bharatanatyam dance, the American musical, and the British waltz. These were all collisions of Earth's cultures, a grand celebration of human art.
After the French performance, the host returned to the stage.
"Next, we have the Illusionary Sound Choir, performing their piece 'Dreamy Journey.'"
The Illusionary Sound Choir.
Kino showed a look of interest.
This choir, made up of mutants, was known for its performances using voice-based illusions, a style Kino had heard a little about before.
On stage, a group of handsome men and women, dressed in white suits, immediately caught the eye.
The violinist, elegant in her posture, gently raised her hand. The bow touched the strings as if a light breeze caressing a lake, creating a sequence of lively notes.
Next, the sounds of the piano, cello, and flute interwove with the violin's melody, sometimes flowing like a gentle stream, at other times roaring like a surging tide.
"Ah—"
Beautiful voices echoed from the ten-person choir.
There was no singing, just pure vocal sounds and accompaniments forming a pure musical piece.
The audience couldn't help but close their eyes, listening to the music.
Women saw forests, oceans, and white clouds, feeling relaxed and enjoying a brief moment of peace.
Men embarked on an adventurous journey in ancient legends.
Children flew in space, touching the stars and playing in the void.
The entire venue fell silent, every person immersed in the music.
Kino opened his eyes and listened attentively to the music.
To him, the illusions were somewhat dull.
The Illusionary Sound Choir's performance lasted ten minutes before ending.
The audience slowly awoke and gave a round of enthusiastic applause. It was truly a one-of-a-kind experience.
It felt like lucid dreaming—you knew what you were doing within the dream, but once you woke up, the memories became fuzzy, preventing you from getting lost in it.
"Next, we have the Succubus Dance Troupe, performing 'Love.'"
Music started to play.
Two dancers, wearing masks, began to dance gracefully on the stage.
They sometimes touched, sometimes pulled away, their eyes meeting with shy expressions. At this moment, no words were necessary.
Everyone understood—it was the beginning of a relationship.
Young and curious.
Many people saw their past selves in their movements.
Then the music changed.
The dancers' movements shifted.
Suddenly, they drew close, almost glued to each other, holding hands, gazing into one another's eyes, never letting go.
This was love.
Some audience members showed nostalgic expressions.
Another pair of dancers appeared on stage. One danced joyfully, her face glowing with happiness.
The other was behind her, matching her steps but always staying out of the spotlight.
This was unspoken love.
Some audience members looked somber, remembering how they had never confessed their feelings.
The movements of both pairs of dancers began to synchronize.
They performed actions as if exchanging rings.
One had a look of happiness.
"I will be happy if I marry him."
The other had a hesitant expression.
"Will I really be happy if I marry him?"
This was marriage.
The music's tone became intense.
The dancers' movements grew more vigorous, spinning, leaping, intertwining, almost as if they were arguing.
The two dancers chose to run, dashing across the stage in pursuit of one another.
One ran with firm resolve, never looking back.
The other hesitated, occasionally glancing behind.
The dancers' partners struggled to keep up with them.
At this moment, many more dancers appeared from backstage.
They blocked the dancers' paths.
Some wore shy expressions, others were bold or coquettish, surrounding the dancers, dancing gracefully and with precision.
Their movements were full of temptation.
The audience watched in rapt attention, knowing that a new choice had arisen.
Backstage, the members of the Illusionary Sound Choir were watching the performance on screen and realized they had lost.
"It's okay, there will be another chance. After this, we'll perform around the world and gain more experience," said the choir leader, Smith.
On stage, the first dancer was trapped by the others, each attempt to break free only resulted in being pulled back.
The second dancer struggled to escape, red paint splashing across her clothes, continuing the chase after the first dancer.
This was rejection.
The first dancer, after dancing a circle on stage, returned to the starting point.
She reached out a hand to her partner, who pulled her into a tight embrace as other dancers continued to surround them.
The second dancer, now free, found her partner, who was still running.
The partner was about to catch up, reaching out a hand, waiting.
The dancer kept running, her steps disordered, not even glancing back.
Eventually, the dancer stopped, watching her partner's disappearing figure. After a moment of contemplation, she began dancing on her own, light and free, no longer defined by someone else's steps—she was the dancer.
The escaping dancer returned to perform on stage, attempting once again to capture attention.
But this time, her partner didn't respond.
Dancers appeared one by one to join her steps.
At that moment, the stage lights seemed to shine just for her, as she expressed her rebirth and independence through her unique dance style.
The first pair of dancers, still embracing, continued to dance joyfully.
The surrounding dancers realized there was no longer a chance to leave the stage.
The music gradually slowed, bringing a sense of peace.
The audience was lost in this visual feast, emotions rising and falling with each movement of the dancers.
Some had tears in their eyes, recalling their own stories of love and loss, growth and release.
Two different outcomes.
Tony raised an eyebrow and asked Pepper, "Pepper, what would you have done if I had rejected you back then?"
"I would've applied to be your nanny. If I got rejected again, I would never have come back," Pepper replied.
Tony didn't speak but simply pulled her into a hug.
Many people who watched this dance, titled Love is Dance, began reflecting on their own lives.
In the private room, Banner held Betty's hand.
"I have no more business for now. How about we go visit Ross tomorrow?"
Betty's eyes lit up, but she hesitated.
"But after Dad retired, he's been so down, and if you go, it might lead to a fight."
"I'll bring a gift. How do you feel about a starship captain?" Banner said.
Ross's personality was stubborn and tough, but his military ability and strategic vision were undeniable. Being a starship commander was no problem.
"Won't this affect your standing in the Demon Lord's eyes?" Betty asked, concerned.
Her man had only just made it this far. If favoritism were to cause issues in the Demon Lord's group, it would be better to let her father retire in peace.
After all, her father had nearly attacked the Demon Lord—living was already a blessing.
"If anything, Earth will organize a fleet. The initial scale will be in the thousands, but I can only give him one starship to manage. Whether he gets more depends on Ross," Banner said.
"And don't worry about the boss. I'll personally request it. As long as he doesn't recommend useless people, the boss won't mind."
"I love you, Banner."
"I love you too, Betty."
The two embraced in the private room.
"Love is not just a feeling, but a dance between two hearts, where sometimes the rhythm matches and sometimes it takes its own course."
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