Chapter 134

As the actors began crossing the bridge, Martin quickly assessed the situation, remembering from the video in his mind that there would be roughly ten minutes before the bridge collapsed. That gave him just enough time to prepare.

His eyes scanned the backstage control room, looking for anything that could help. And then he saw it—a knob that controlled the metal crossbar from which the wire was suspended. He had seen the crew use it before. By turning the knob to the right, the crossbar would descend slowly, allowing the dancer attached to the wire to fall from the sky. The knob also controlled the descent speed, with further turns increasing the speed.

Martin's gaze shifted upward to the crossbar above the stage, where five five-meter wires were hanging, unused.

The only question was, how would he get up there?

Looking around, Martin spotted a set of trees on the right side of the stage, each supported by steel bars. He quickly calculated the height and realized it was enough to reach the crossbar.

But timing would be everything. He couldn't act too early—otherwise, people would question how he knew the bridge would fall. It couldn't be too late either, as the entire descent only lasted a few seconds. A slight delay would make everything irreversible.

His only opportunity would be the exact moment the bridge began to collapse.

Soon, the actors started crossing the bridge. Michael Jackson made his iconic moonwalk as he stepped onto the bridge, dancing and spinning. The bridge began to rise slowly, accompanied by bursts of fireworks and smoke, creating a spectacle that made Michael appear to soar through the clouds.

The stage design for Michael's concerts was always elaborate, a result of the hard work of countless people behind the scenes.

But this time, something was wrong.

Martin could hear the voice of the director, panicked and shouting into his walkie-talkie, "What's going on? Why isn't the bridge stopping? Bratt, are you drunk? Stop messing with it, now!"

"Director, I can't stop it! The bridge is out of control!" came the frantic reply from Bratt, one of the staff.

The director cursed, "How could this happen? It was fine during rehearsal!" He slammed the walkie-talkie to the ground, ordering, "Get the maintenance team—hurry!"

But it was too late.

A calm voice cut through the chaos—Martin's.

Turning to see him, the director's face went pale. "What do you mean?"

Martin replied, his voice steady, "Once the bridge reaches its limit, the rollers will be crushed by the steel bars. If that happens, it's over."

"Get down!!" the director barked, realizing the severity of the situation.

"What should I do now?" he asked, his panic still evident.

Martin smiled inwardly, but kept his expression cautious as he replied, "I'll find a way to save him. You need to get medical staff ready for first aid."

"Save him? How?" The director's question was interrupted by the sound of metal grinding.

The pulleys at the four corners of the bridge had reached their limit, and the metal snapped.

"Not good!" the director yelled, as the bridge lurched violently, suffering a heavy blow.

"Do as I say!" Martin commanded, already moving toward the control panel.

With a swift twist, he cranked the knob to its maximum setting.

"Hey, what are you doing?" one staff member called, but was stopped by the director, who now had no choice but to trust Martin.

The director grabbed the walkie-talkie from another staff member and called for medical help, but his eyes were fixed on Martin, waiting to see what he would do. Martin had become his last hope.

Without hesitation, Martin turned the knob, then sprinted toward the stage. When he reached the right side, he suddenly launched himself, kicking off a tree trunk and scaling it. He leapt into the air, like an eagle taking flight, arms spread wide.

The crowd gasped in unison, watching in awe as Martin's daring stunt was captured on the giant screen.

At that moment, Michael sensed something was wrong. His heart raced as he tightly gripped the metal railing of the bridge, cold sweat pouring down his face. But despite the danger, his professionalism prevailed, and he continued singing, his voice steady as ever.

Then, without warning, a rush of weightlessness gripped him.

The audience gasped as Michael was suspended in the air.

Martin, now soaring through the air, reached out and grabbed the wire hanging from the crossbar with his left hand. Using the momentum, he swung toward the bridge, shouting, "Michael, stay still!"

Michael froze at the sound of Martin's voice. His instincts screamed to turn around, but something about Martin's command stopped him from moving.

With a powerful swing, Martin pulled Michael away from the falling bridge, the two of them suspended in midair like a daring rescue scene from an action movie. The crowd went wild as the massive screen captured the spectacle.

The bridge, now out of control, fell with a deafening crash, but Martin's swift action had saved Michael just in time.

As the wire swung back to its highest point, Martin's mind raced with a single thought—the plan had worked, but if only it had been a beautiful woman instead of Michael...

Meanwhile, Michael was regaining his composure, his mind still buzzing from the shock, but his professionalism never wavered. He kept singing, even though his heart was filled with gratitude toward Martin for saving him.

Martin couldn't help but admire Michael's dedication. Now that's true professionalism, he thought.

On the other side of the stage, the director snapped back to reality, rushing over to the staff. "Quick! Slow the descent! Otherwise, they'll hit the ground!"

Before anyone could react, he shoved the staff aside and turned the knob to the left, slowing the crossbar's descent.

The wire's swing became smaller and smaller, and eventually, Martin and Michael landed safely on the stage.

For a moment, there was stunned silence.

Then, the crowd erupted in applause, their cheers deafening, as they realized what had just happened. Martin had saved Michael Jackson's life.

[•———•——•———•]

𝙥𝗮𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣(.)𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧