The man's shouting faltered.
His lips trembled.
Even he seemed to sense it.
His voice cracked as he stammered, "W-what?! What are you looking at me for?!"
Elena stepped forward slightly.
Her voice wasn't loud.
But it was sharp enough to cut through the noise like a bell ringing through fog.
"Thank you very much," she said clearly, "for your past support of my music."
The studio fell silent.
Even the Black Stars stopped shouting.
Even Feng Jiu's expression froze, sensing the shift.
The man swallowed, suddenly unsure.
Elena continued, her tone calm, cold, and unyielding.
"However, I don't owe you anything outside my career as an artist. You used your money to buy my music, not my freedom, not my life, and certainly not my dignity."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I am not your slave."
The words struck like a slap across the face.
The crazed man's lips parted, but no sound came out.
The audience remained deathly quiet.
