《Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System》 Chapter 1: Dumped and abandoned "So, I''ve decided to break up with you." "¡­" "Look, even thest moron would understand why, Tristan. And you always had some of the best grades in ss, so I thought you were smart. But fine, I can exin." "¡­" "First, the doctors said that even with the best stic surgery your parents paid for, your face will stay scarred forever. Your voice will also never fully recover after this car crash. And why would I need an ugly, rasping boyfriend?" "¡­" "That''s right, I don''t. Second, your singing career. It''s over, Tristan, before it even properly began! Your voice is gone. You might as well drop out of the music school now. And a rising star like myself can''t date just any bum without prospects, even if he has rich parents. I''m sure you agree." "¡­" "Also, Tristan, your family connections and money let you get off from drunk driving charges with only a fine and a driving license suspension. Good thing that you were only seventeen, and the judge took pity on you, huh? But you still won''t be able to drive me around in your dad''s Lamborghini anymore! What''s the point of dating you, then?" The hand holding the phone dropped on the hospital bed sheets. The phone dropped to the floor, and the loud beeping of machines hooked to the bed drowned out the woman''s voiceing from the other side. Tristan wanted to shout at his former girlfriend, to say that she was always a bitch, to call her names, but his torn throat couldn''t produce a sound. His face was covered in bandages and so numb after all the stitches that he couldn''t even scowl. All Tristan could do in his hospital bed was clench and unclench his fists. Only they and the machines that picked up his increased pulse showed the anger and anguish he felt. At seventeen, Tristan''s life had been just beginning¡ªbut now it was already over, even if his heart monitor was still beeping. *** Three weekster. His parents weren''t meeting Tristan when he entered his family mansion for the first time in a month. The opulent main hall, decorated with garish statues of horses, was empty save for a single person standing on top of the stairs leading to the second floor. Tristan''s brother, Daniel. Although Daniel was only a year older, he always acted like this made him twice more mature and smart than Tristan. Even at home, Daniel was dressed like for a photo shoot. His face was so handsome, he could''ve gone to Hollywood right now, but he wanted to pursue a musical career instead¡ªjust like Daniel and Tristan''s mother. Daniel looked down at Tristan and cringed demonstratively. "Oof, brother. You look like aplete wreck¡ªmaybe you should put bandages back before you gave anyone a heart attack. Either way, wee home! I imagine you will spend a lot of time here from now on, since you can''t go to music school anymore." At this familiar face, and that voice which he didn''t hear in weeks, memories shed in front of Tristan''s eyes. Memories of the night before the fateful car crash. *** A month before. Tristan walked several steps from the doors of a rich mansion, the likes of which were standing side to side in this neighborhood. From the doors behind him, loud music was ring together with other sounds of a party. One of Tristan''s rich ssmates was hosting a party. The thumping of the music made Tristan''s surroundings shake slightly as well. Or that was all the alcohol speaking. He turned toward his brother, who walked out next to him. "I think I''m gonna go home, Dan. I''ve¡­ Hic! I''ve had enough partying for today. Are you w''th me?" Daniel shook his head and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Nah, I''m just out for a smoke. There''s still some fun to be had!" Daniel grinned at his younger brother, and Tristan grinned back. Although they had disagreements from time to time, especially when Tristan showed better results in music school and contests than Daniel, they were still brothers and friends. At least, Tristan thought so back then. "Then I''m gonna call a taxi," Tristan said, pulling out his phone. However, Daniel''s hand stopped him. "A taxi? Come on, little brother, you came there in the car. You aren''t going to leave it there and call a taxi to ss tomorrow, too? It will be such a pain. Just drive back." Tristan frowned. "But Dan¡­ I don''t think I should drive right now." "Come on! You barely drank some punch," Daniel yfully punched his shoulder. "Don''t be a pussy. Drive the car back, and I will drive mine. It will be alright, and parents won''t be asking us too many questions tomorrow." Tristan huffed. The punch was spiked, but Daniel was right. Tristan was feeling pretty clear-headed, especially after breathing some fresh air! Daniel lit a cigarette and took a drag. "Want some?" He offered the cigarette pack to Tristan. Tristan shook his head. "No, Dan. It''s bad for your voice, don''t you know? You shouldn''t smoke either!" "My voice won''t give up from one smoke. But sure, little brother. Heh. Go home and go to bed before a curfew, baby boy." Tristan showed Daniel his tongue. "I will, and you will wake up dying from a hangover tomorrow!" Daniel grinned in return, but his eyes shed with malice. However, back then, Tristan didn''t pay any mind to it. With slightly unsteady footsteps, Tristan walked past Daniel toward the ce where he parked his car. It was a stylish white Mercedes-Benz, a gift for his 16th birthday half a year ago. As he climbed into the driver''s seat, Tristan''s thoughts wandered to his girlfriend, Jane. Her parents didn''t let her go to the party. Now she was going to pout the entire next week about it¡­ Although she had an adorable pout. Tristan''s thoughts were so far in the clouds that he forgot to put on his seatbelt. He drove past the mansions to a highway. His family''s mansion was some distance away from this spot. The road was almost empty at that time, and Tristan was getting drowsy. So drowsy that he almost missed the point when he had to make a turn on the highway. Startled awake, he jerked the driving wheel too quickly. The car''s tires screeched as it lost control and spun toward a nearbymppost. Tristan screamed when the front of the car smashed into it, and his body was thrown out of the front seat. Sharp pieces of ss and metal cut into his face, neck, and arms with burning pain. Then he fell onto the curb like a broken, bleeding doll. Tristan''s consciousness went dark, and he wasn''t aware of his pain anymore, or of the passing driver calling an ambnce. *** Present day. The knowing, smug smirk that appeared on Daniel''s face was thest straw. Ever since the incident, Tristan doubted. In the hospital, he had a lot of time to think. People weren''t visiting him much. Tristan was dumb enough to drive while drunk, but only because Daniel egged him on. Daniel always egged him on things, and something bad was bound to happen eventually. For years Tristan dismissed Daniel''s condescending, his quiet envy, and his insults. But no more. And this was just what Daniel wanted from the start! "DANIEL!" Tristan shouted in a voice raspier than that of a chain smoker. Even that single word made his throat burn, but his rage burned brighter. "What, brother?" Daniel mocked. "Speak more clearly, I can barely make out the letters!" This was thest straw. Tristan ran up the stairs, ignoring aches in his body, and threw a punch at Daniel''s face. Shocked, Daniel could only raise his hands up in reflex. Tristan''s fist connected with Daniel''s jaw. However, although rage was fueling his actions, Tristan''s body was still frail after injuries and the long hospital stay. His punch was much weaker than it looked, and the one most hurt from it was actually Tristan himself. "What the hell?!" Daniel cried out, stumbling back. Hurried footsteps were hearding down a hallway. In that instant, Daniel''s eyes shed with cruel cunning. He made another step back and fell on the floor, cradling his bruised jaw. "Tristan! What is wrong with you?! I just came to greet you, and you punched me! If you feel bad about your injuries, that''s no reason to punch people who are being nice to you!" Tristan clenched his aching fist and stepped back, staring at Daniel in disbelief. ''You lying snake! Being nice? You just threw insults in my face! Is that what you really think about me? How long have you been pretending to be a loving brother?'' At this moment, Tristan''s parents walked into the hallway. Tristan''s mother, Norah, gasped in shock, covering her mouth with her arm. His father, Harry, just frowned sternly. "What''s going on?" Harry asked, approaching the pair. "Tristan, you were just released from the hospital and you are already creating more trouble?" "Father. This isn''t what it looks like!" Tristan rasped out, before his throat gave out and he began coughing. Norah winced. He looked at his parents, hoping to find at least a shred of support, but finding only anger and disgust. It was just like back in the hospital. His parents paid all the bills and sent him flowers, but only visited a few times. Whenever that happened, they couldn''t even look into his face. They were busy people, of course. Norah was a famous singer, and Harry helped his father manage a horse racing and betting empire. But they both were home now, and yet¡­ "After we pay for your surgeries and yourwyer, you still act like that, Tristan?" Norah asked, shaking her head. "You were drinking and driving! Imagine how that looked in newspapers¡ªpeople were gossiping about this for a week! Clearly, your ssmates were a terrible influence on you." Daniel stood up and put on an expression of fake remorse. "As an older brother, I should''ve kept Tristan away from badpanies, but I clearly failed." Harry patted his back. "You tried your best, I''m sure, Danny. Tristan, go to your room! You are grounded for the next week¡­ No, next month! Don''t worry about your school lessons¡ªyou will be schooled at home from now on." *** A monthter. Over and over, voices were echoing in Tristan''s mind. "What a pity. Tristan was even more talented in music than Daniel. He could''ve be a big name in show business, like myself." "He could still get a degree in finance. It''s more fitting for a man, anyway! Although if he keeps being as reckless as before, he will only ruin my legacy, anyway!" "His voice¡­ Oh, it''s so terrible! Every time I hear it, it''s like nails on a chalkboard!" "It''s good that Tristan spends most of his time in his room now. People would only cringe at his face if he stepped outside, anyway." "Ugly¡­" "Pitiful¡­" "Foolish¡­" Tristan had nowhere to run from these voices in the confines of his room. The ce itself was a collection of painful memories. His personal sound recording system stood in the corner, gathering dust. Tristan wanted to break it several times, but always stayed his hand at thest moment. An empty shelf on the wall¡ªbefore, there stood rewards Tristan won on childhood singing and music contests. He smashed them all, adding himself more time for house arrest. Next to that shelf was an electric guitar Tristan yed before the car crash. He was doing physical therapy every day since leaving the hospital, but his fingers were still too stiff to y it as well as before. The photograph of his ss taken on a vacation. Tristan was sitting next to his girlfriend there, who grinned broadly into the camera. Now this photograph was lying face-down. Tristan stood from his bed and walked to his vanity. He opened shutters that covered the mirror on top of it and looked at his face. Wide, ugly, red scars were covering what once was handsome. A pair of light blue eyes stared from between the scars. A grown-out fringe of ck hair tried to cover at least some of the ugliness and failed. Tristan closed the vanity mirror shut. ''Enough.'' The next day, he gathered what he could of his things into a school bag: clothes, documents, knickknacks, a small wad of cash that was just lying in his pocket. His family became so used to Tristan''s quiet seclusion that they lost all caution around him. It was incredibly easy to just walk out and leave into the night. Tristan didn''t know where he was going, but he knew he won''t return to this mansion. Chapter 2: Second Identity System Two yearster. The street in front of the small electronics store was lit by a singlemppost that stood proudly where its neighbors were broken long ago. A wiry young man was kneeling next to the store, picking its lock. Arge, muscr guy was standing over his shoulder, continuously asking if this was going to take much longer. While his gang mates were breaking into the store, Tristan stood at the corner of the store, looking out for trouble. His leg tapped on the ground, and he clenched his hands tight in the pockets of his dark jacket. Tristan joined this gang after several months of wandering the streets on his own, iterating odd jobs with petty crime. However, this was the first time he was taking part in full-out breaking and entering. Thest member of the gang approached him. Evelyn, a beautiful young woman wearing ck leather and fiss. "Nervous, Scarface?" Tristan''s lip twitched in annoyance. "I told you not to call me that, Evelyn." The woman chuckled, then smiled at Tristan with a seductive twinkle in her eyes. She leaned toward him, getting close enough that her chest was almost brushing his. However, her flirtatious and friendly demeanor didn''t fool Tristan. He knew that she disliked him since their first meeting, even if Mark and Ricky considered Tristan useful enough to keep in the gang. "Oh, you know I mean nothing bad by this. Those are just facts, aren''t they?" Tristan''s raised hand firmly pushed Evelyn back to a more appropriate distance. However, it was toote. The buff guy and the leader of the gang, Mark, spotted the interaction between the two. In his eyes, it was Tristan who put his hand on Mark''s girlfriend. Tristan was trying to steal his girlfriend¡ªagain! "Scarface, stop diddling around¡ªkeep your eyes peeled on the street! And Evelyn, baby,e here, we are almost in!" Evelyn clicked her tongue in disappointment. "Coming, dear!" She strutted toward Mark, leaving Tristan to re at her back. He wasn''t the same na?ve teenager who couldn''t see disdain under the sweet words anymore. However, he couldn''t out Evelyn outright. Not when Mark and Ricky¡ªthe lockpicker¡ªwerepping up her every word. ''Maybe it''s the time for me to leave this gang,'' Tristan thought. ''Being with them was better than on my own, but Evelyn has been especially insufferabletely.'' The sound of the opening door made Tristan turn toward the store''s entrance. The next moment, a ring rm cut the air. "Shit!" Mark shouted. "Everybody, take the bags and grab what you can! We have¡­ five minutes!" The duffel bags were lying in a pile at his feet, and Mark immediately picked two to throw one at Evelyn. Ricky and Tristan also rushed to get theirs. Then they all charged into the store. Ricky and Mark went right to the cash register, which Ricky began trying to break into. In the meantime, Evelyn and Tristan spread around the store, navigating by the dim light from the outside. Tristan went to the disy shelf with thetest model smartphones. His heart was beating somewhere in his throat, but his hands were still steady. He grabbed a trusty wrench he was carrying in his pocket and smashed it over the ss. Once, twice, thrice¡ªand the disy shelf broke into pieces. Tristan moved them aside with his sleeves and began throwing all the phones into the duffel bag, when he heard a change in the piercing rm sound. A new note added into it. "Cops!" he shouted in a raspy voice. "Time to get out!" "To our car!" Mark shouted back, already running. "Go, go, go!" Everybody went to the exit, hitting each other with their bags in a hurry. Tristan was almost out of the doors when Mark charged past him, at the same time shoving him to the side with his shoulder. The push made Tristan lose bnce and fall on the ss-covered floor. ''Shit!'' By the time he scrambled to his feet, the rest of his gang was already outside. Hurrying with all his strength, Tristan followed them toward Mark''s car, which was parked nearby. Mark and Evelyn already sat at the front, and Ricky on the back. When Tristan ran up to the car, Mark looked up at him and sneered. "Bye, Scarface. If I see your ugly mug again, I will just beat you up for putting your dirty paws on my girl!" Tristan gaped at him. He knew that Evelyn was trying to get at him, but he thought that he made it clear enough for Mark that he wasn''t interested in his girlfriend. What lies did she tell him about Tristan? "What?!" Evelyn looked up at him, scowling. "You heard it!" Then Mark pressed the gas pedal, and with a screech of tires, the car sped off, away from the crime scene. Instead of it, a police car was approaching from the other side of the street. Tristan clenched his fists. ''I knew it¡­ It ended badly even faster than I expected! Damned Evelyn¡­ Holding a grudge just because I didn''t show the desire to lick her leather shoes and kiss her ass!'' If he was faster to process things, he could''ve at least thrown a wrench in Mark''s face before the car drew off! A blinding light of the police car''s headlights hit Tristan in the face. He squinted at it, seeing silhouettes of the policemen in the front seats. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Tristan knew they saw him and will easily recognize himter. Maybe even his family will be notified. Although his parents didn''t care. If they did, they would''ve at least started a search for Tristan two years ago. "Raise your hands in the air and freeze!" a cop shouted. Dropping his duffel bag, Tristan turned and ran, ignoring the shouts behind him. He turned into a narrow alleyway around, hoping that the cops won''t follow him deep into this neighborhood. However, he soon heard two pairs of heavy footsteps behind him. Worse, they were steadily growing closer and closer. ''Fuck, fuck, fuck! I will get into prison for this¡­ Definitely!'' [Ding!] [Congrattions! You won the Heavenly Lottery and got a special prise¡ª''Second Identity System''!] The sudden ringing in his ears and a floating window that popped in front of him made Tristan stumble and fall onto the asphalt. Cursing and ignoring the pain in his palms and knees, Tristan jumped up and continued running. However, the strange windows kept appearing in front of him, while a machine-like voice read the text from them aloud. [Creating identities based on the user''s aptitudes¡­ done! Calcting identity points based on preexisting skills¡­ done! Creating a second set of documents¡­ done!] [Identity 1: Criminal. Identity 2: Pop-star.] [User, for improving skills and status of one identity, you will get 10x reward points for the second identity. These points could be spent on improving skills and buying talents.] [Your first free talent is ''rk Kent Effect''. Change a single detail of looks around your face to set it up and activate it.] Tristan barely listened for these hallucinations as he ran until another turn led him to a dead end. That alleyway ended with only a wall and a dumpster. He turned around frantically, but the cops were getting too close. If he ran out now, he could even get shot! ''System¡­ Fuck, is that like in one of Ricky''s shitty books? It''s supposed to help me?'' It all felt like a dream, but Tristan was desperate enough to follow even some shady voice from inside his own head. With shaking hands, he took off a small silver earring from his left ear¡ªone of thest things left from his old life. [rk Kent Effect is set up sessfully. From now on, putting left earring on and off will change your identities. Current active identity is Pop-star.] The system didn''t stop talking yet, and Tristan already was turning his jacket inside out and huddling next to a dumpster like just another hobo. Not a second after he lowered to the ground, the cops ran into the alleyway, shing him with the torchlights in their hands. Like Tristan feared, their guns were also out. "Raise your arms in the air! Show your face!" "I d-didn''t do anything, sirs," Tristan pleaded, taking off his hood and raising his arms. The officers lowered their torchlights and Tristan saw them studying his face. At that moment, he was sure that he was done for. But to his surprise, a momentter, the cops'' faces became disappointed. "That''s not him. They look nothing alike, and our guy''s face was recognizable as hell!" "Hell¡­ Hey, hobo, have you seen a guy here? Dark jacket, face a mother would hate?" Tristan wordlessly shook his head, huddling into the shadow of the dumpster. "Maybe he got inside one of the apartment buildings¡­ Damn, and his buddies already left. The boss is gonna chew us out for this¡­" Grumbling under their noses, the cops left the alleyway. Tristan waited twenty more minutes, ignoring the dumpster stench with a force of a long habit. Then he stood up and walked out, feeling dazed. ''Was this real? I have a system now?'' This outweighed even his gang mates abandoning him. In this state, Tristan walked to a nearby 24h diner and ordered himself fries and c. At this time of night, he was the sole visitor. The only other person was a cashier, who, after bringing Tristan his food, returned to openly scrolling through his smartphone. Alone in his corner, Tristan took in a deep breath. ''System¡­ Uh¡­ Do you have a FAQ or something? Help? How do I use you?'' Chapter 3: Tristans resolution Tristan had just enough time to feel dumb about these thoughts before a text window silently opened in front of him. [Second Identity System new user manual and FAQ.] [Wee to the Second Identity System, user. You may be confused and even wonder if this is all real, but it is. This text file will help you navigate your new abilities and rise toward Heavens.] [The SIS is controlled with mentalmands and gestures. To open this file again,mand ''help'' or ''FAQ''. To open the list ofmands, use ''list ofmands''. To interact with the system windows, simply touch them.] [Q: Can other people see or hear the system?] [A: No.] [Q: How can I check my current system information?] [A: Use the ''status''mand.] [Q: What types of power-ups are avable to me?] [A: You can purchase talents and certain items for one or both of your identities, based on the identity''s career. Note that many power-ups might only be active in one of your identities. To summon the SIS shop,mand ''shop''. You can also improve your skills and attributes. To open the boosting window, tap a skill or an attribute you want to improve.] [Q: I bought an item, but didn''t get it. I was cheated!] [A: Check your pockets or bag. The items bought from SIS usually appear there.] [Q: Do all items in the shop stay avable for purchase at all times?] [A: No. The system shop refreshes every day. Keep an eye out for new offers!] [Q: Do I keep all my power-ups in both identities?] [A: Yes.] [Q: Are there any penalties for letting other people know about my second identity?] [A: Yes! For each person who knows that your both identities are the same, you will suffer a stacking 5% decrease for all your parameters.] [Q: How do I earn identity points?] [A: Simply increase skills of an identity by natural means (training) or increase your social status, to earn points for another identity equal to 10x value of the achievement.] [Q: How do I control the volume of the system''s voice?] [A: Use the ''settings''mand to open settings and change its visual and audio parameters.] [Q: Can I turn off that ''ding!'' notification sound?] [A: No.] Tristan huffed and closed the window, as well as other umted notification windows, by pressing the button in their corner. He probably looked weird in the eyes of the cashier, waving his fingers in the air. Tristan ate a fry to appear more normal, then followed one of the FAQ questions and checked his pockets. To his surprise, in one of them, he found a second ID. It was done in the name of Tristan Gemello, but besides that and ID numbers, was identical to his old ID¡ªwhich meant that it had the same photograph without scars in it. Tristan put it away, then opened settings and the list of systemmands. In settings, he changed visibility and position of pop-up windows to be less distracting. Then¡­ ''Status.'' [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Rank: Nobody.] [Pop-star Points: 1120] [Criminal Points: 1970] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 3] [Charisma: 9] [Fearsomeness: 34] [Strength: 17] [Dexterity: 24] [Toughness: 40] [===Skills===] [Singing: 48] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 39] [Music theory: 19] [Music production: 8] [Acting: 20] [Songwriting: 13] [Voice control: 32] [Stage presence: 10] [Sneaking: 20] [Close-quartersbat: 21] [Observation: 31] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 24] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [======] ''Interesting¡­ So the system says I sing better than I y guitar? Well, let''s see what I can buy with these points.'' Tristan felt skeptical about this. After the life he led for the past two years, he learned to not trust gifts from life. ''Shop.'' [======] [===Shop===] [Remove scars: 3000 points (any)] [ying flute skill: 10 Pop-star Points.] [Lockpicking skill: 10 Criminal Points.] [A driving license: 1000 points (tap to choose identity)] [======] Tristan''s eyes widened. This was impossible. Or maybe it wasn''t. But if it was¡­ His hand shook. He had just enough points¡­ Tristan tapped on the ''Remove scars'' option. [Remove scars¡ªare you sure? You will have 90 points left.] ''Yes! I''m sure!'' [Confirmed. Remaining points:] [Pop-star Points: 45] [Criminal Points: 45] [======] Suddenly, Tristan''s skin tingled. He looked at his scarred hands inplete marvel, watching how the ugly old scars disappeared like someone used Photoshop on them. He touched his face in disbelief and felt only smooth skin. Tristan stood so suddenly, his chair almost fell over, and rushed into the bathroom. Inside, he stared into a dirty mirror, afraid to believe his eyes. The scars were fully gone! [Ding!] [As a result of your purchase, your attributes changed.] [Your Appearance improved by 30.] [Your Charisma improved by 20.] [Your Fearsomeness reduced by 10.] "Is this really¡­ real?" Tristan asked, and even his voice flowed smoothly. He grinned. "Iiiis this reeeeally reeeeeal?" he sang, feeling his soul soar together with his voice. Then Tristanughed, twirling on his foot. This happened! He could sing again! He could do more than just sing! Tristan stared at his expression again. His fists clenched on the edges of the sink. ''I could return to my family. But I won''t! Fuck them. I''m not going to crawl there like a beaten dog. The only way I''m returning is to p them in the face with my sess. When I will be more famous than my mother and more rich than my father¡ªthen I will return. Everybody who looked down on me because of that incident¡­ They will learn how mistaken they were.'' This was Tristan''s resolution. When he walked out of the bathroom, he was a new person. Not the teenager who blindly followed expectations of his family, and not the aimless petty criminal who stuck with the crowd for safety. Now he walked like a person with a goal and a n. A person who could split crowds apart like Moses split the seas. If Daniel saw him now, he''d feel fear. But the only witness of Tristan''s transformation was the diner''s cashier. The young man, who was working here to afford college, watched Tristan walk out of the diner without finishing his fries, and sighed in relief. First, that hobo was waving his hands in the air like a junkie on the high. Then he ran into the bathroom and spoke to no one there¡­ Not to mention the scars which suddenly just disappeared from his face¡ªbut maybe the cashier just imagined that scars were there at all. The cashier sighed and went to wipe Tristan''s table. He wasn''t paid enough to think twice about some hobo who paid for his order and didn''t even try to threaten him with a gun. Meanwhile, Tristan walked the night streets toward the tiny t he was renting, wondering how soon Evelyn will send Mark after his head when the bitch learns he escaped the cops. Chapter 4: Tristans PP grows Without a car, it was a long way to the dingy t Tristan called "home". Although Tristan had changed drastically in thest couple hours, the ce that met him was exactly the same as he left it: a tiny studio with peeling wallpaper, leaky faucets, and crumpling furniture. And even that cost him $1500 a month! The thought reminded Tristan painfully that today''s robbery was supposed to pay for his next month''s rent. Tristan went for a stash behind a pipe, where he hid his savings. There was $500 left, which wasn''t enough for anything much. He had to earn that money quickly, and he also needed money for lessons. Learning was the simplest way to get system points. But learning without a teacher was much slower than on your own. Besides, Tristan knew he would need a microphone and a guitar to record himselfter. ''And new clothing,'' he thought, looking with distaste at his second-hand jacket. ''I can''t be famous in a jacket like that.'' Tristan yawned. ''Tomorrow I will think about something.'' While he brushed his teeth, Tristan stared long and hard at his healed face again. It was like a stranger''s face, but also something dear returned to him from the past. As he went to sleep, Tristan remembered to put his earring back on to change identities. He didn''t want anyone to be suspicious of a strange personing out of his apartment. *** Next day. ''Money makes the world go round,'' Tristan thought, walking down the street. In warm July, plenty of tourists and locals were walking in this area, moving from one cafe to another and stopping near the souvenir shops. Many of them had their pockets or phones stuffed right in the back pockets of their pants, just begging to be swiped. This ce was one of Tristan''s favorite work haunts. It wasn''t so popr that some gang imed it as his, but still let him earn enough for life. And Mark''s gang didn''te here often. Tristan strolled the street, putting low the hood of his jacket by the force of habit. When he spotted a target with a low-hanging wallet, he casually strolled towards him, then as if "by ident" bumped the middle-aged man''s shoulder. "Hey!" "Sorry," Tristan stepped back, smiling apologetically. His target turned to him with a suspicious re. One of his hands checked the wallet, and the man rxed a little when he found it in ce. Usually, at this point, the target would cringe at Tristan and dismiss him. However, now the man actually smiled at Tristan. "Ah, don''t worry! Was looking at the shops instead of where you were going, yeah? Happens to everyone!" Tristan''s eyes widened with shock. Why was this man acting so nice to him? Then he realized. His face without the scars was pretty handsome! He didn''t look like a suspicious pickpocket at all, but like some student on a summer break! "Ha-ha, yeah. Sorry again," Tristan said, smiling back at the man. "Have a good day!" "You too!" The man turned around, moving away from Tristan. At this moment, when his guard was down, Tristan gently pulled his wallet out of the man''s pocket and hid it in his. Humming a tune to himself, Tristan removed his hood and kept strolling the street. [Ding!] [Pickpocketing skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] Tristan stumbled from shock. ''My what?! Ah¡­ it must mean Pop-star Points. Cool, I can earn some cash and also grind my PP¡­ Points, I mean. And if something goes awry, I can always run and quickly switch identities.'' Tristan didn''t want to resort to this, though. When he pickpocketed, he was always as careful as his first time, when his heart was beating with anxiety and his stomach rumbling with desperate hunger. But that was a long time ago. And being handsome helped Tristan a lot. When people were suspicious of him, he just smiled broadly and they dismissed their doubts, thinking that he looked like a good citizen! Especially women. A few threw him flirtatious nces as Tristan walked by, but he didn''t pay them much mind. [Pickpocketing skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Pickpocketing skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Pickpocketing skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] After five hours of pickpocketing, Tristan''s skill improved by 3 more points. He also earned around $300 in cash, as well as three phones that he could sell to a dealer he knew. While before, he''d feel lucky to earn $150! Not to mention that a few times people got suspicious of him and even called the police. As he counted his earnings, Tristan considered his options. ''If I practice my Pop-star skills now, I can improve my pickpocketing and earn even more. Pickpocketing on my own will be riskier than when Mark could look out for me, but it will be worth it.'' However, this required some investment. Tristan walked into an alleyway, made sure that no one was watching him, and took off his earring. He felt safer in an identity that was a clean sheet with no criminal records attached. Then Tristan went to the ce which before always brought pain in his heart when he walked past it. This was a musical instruments store. Guitars, violins, and flutes were put on the window disy. Their price tags were actually very cheap and affordablepared to the price of instruments Tristan was used to. Only $900 for some of the instruments at the front, while Tristan''s old guitar cost $3000. This was a store aimed at casual musicians first, not a high-end luxury brand ce. The reason for Tristan''s pain were his fingers, which were too fragile to let him y a guitar. But now¡­ He walked into the store, looking around. There were acoustic guitars, bass guitars, ukuleles¡­ "Do you need something, mister?" the cashier asked, approaching him. He was an elderly man with a kind smile. "Are you a newbie? We have some self-learning manuals for flutes and guitars." Tristan looked at the cashier, then remembered how much cash he had. He really hoped this was enough¡­ "How much is your cheapest electric guitar?" Chapter 5: Tristan Gemellos first performance Twenty minutester, Tristan walked out of the store $300 poorer, but with a brand-new electric guitar kit. It was one of the cheapest guitars possible, one that he wouldn''t have touched with a six-foot-pole in the past. However, beggars couldn''t be choosers. And this model could work from an umtor, which was very convenient. Tristan''s fingers were itching to y. It''s been so long¡­ As soon as he switched identities and returned to his t, he unpacked the guitar¡ªa simple white thing, so crudepared to his old one¡ªand tuned it. Then Tristan yed a short jingle from memory. The first notes of it were like a breath of fresh air. A wave of nostalgia flooded Tristan, making him tear up just from this simple act. His fingers slipped at this moment, and the next note rang false. Frowning, Tristan continued with more concentration, but his skills were rusty without practice. Again and again he would slip. Few mistakes were as bad as the first ones, but to his trained ear they were still ring. It was even worse because of the poor instrument Tristan was using. He finished the jingle with onest hit of the strings and tsked. ''Two years without practice¡ªno wonder I''m rusty. But I didn''t earn all these Pop-star Points for nothing, so it''s time to spend them! Status.'' [======] [Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)] [Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.] [Rank: Nobody.] [Pop-star Points: 85] [Criminal Points: 45] [===Attributes===] ¡­ [===Skills===] [Singing: 48] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 39] ¡­ [Pickpocketing: 28] [======] Tristan tapped on a skill and the system opened a window that let him spend points to improve it. As he expected, "criminal" skills cost Criminal Points, and "pop-star" skills cost Pop-Star points. 1 point in skill cost 1 identity point to improve. This meant that practicing pickpocketing was going to be the fastest way to improve Tristan''s musical skills, and vice versa. This was amazing to Tristan. He spent endless hours practicing music before, but how fast will he be able to rise thanks to the SIS¡­ by doing crime? He tapped his ''ying guitar'' skill and spent his 85 points on it. [Ding!] [ying guitar skill increased from 39 to 124.] Of course, Tristan didn''t get Criminal Points from that. Out of curiosity, he checked the cost of improving his attributes. They weren''t attached to identities, and he could improve them with any points. However, it cost 10 system points for 1 point of attribute. After this, Tristan took the guitar in his hands again. It was like thest two years had never happened. Tristan''s hands yed the short jingle withplete assurance, never missing a single note. It was as simple as breathing. After hitting thest chord, Tristan let the silence ring,pletely stunned. It felt like in a single moment he sat through months of musical lessons! However, the jingle was a simple, short melody. It was a far cry from what Tristan normally yed during his practice. Although his memory after two years was also rusty, he remembered a famous heavy metal song he spent a long time practicing a cover of. Tristan took his phone, checking messages. Not a word from his ''friends'' from the gang, not that he was expecting one. The only one who didn''t hate him at this point was surely Ricky, and Ricky did whatever Mark said. Then Tristan found the drum track for the song online and began to y the guitar part. The song grew from the slow introduction to powerful riffs, and when it was time to sing, Tristan opened his mouth. He sang about three lines until someone knocked furiously on the wall of his apartment. "Turn off that hellish music! Turn it off before I call the police on you! I will do it, I swear!" shouted a muffled, but still shrill, female voice. "Dammit!" Tristan swore, stopping ying. He got so used to the non-existent soundproofing of this apartment that he totally forgot about it. "Fine, you hag! Enjoy your peace and quiet! Bitch." Tristan shouted back. Women in his life continued to create him problems. *** Next day. Tristan sat in a park together with his guitar and his portable amplifier. Right now he was Tristan Gemello, not Hayes, which meant he was going to do no crime. His future famous identity must have a reputation cleaner than a bleach factory. Tristan came today not to swipe wallets, but to practice guitar, both for the sake of it, and for CP. Like before, he turned on the drum track on his phone, just to keep the tempo, and began ying. After a quiet intro, powerful guitar riffs flew over the park. In this sunny weather, many people of all ages were strolling or sunbathing here. When they heard Tristan y such a powerful, rhythmic song intro, they grew curious. It was a very famous song, and many people were familiar with it. Curious, they drew closer to listen, growing a ring of people around Tristan''s bench. His eyes widened at such an audience. It was shocking, and many people would''ve been shy. However, despite the years spent hiding his face, Tristan was born to stand on the stage. All the attention only spurred him on. He stood up from the bench and began singing the song''s words. Although his singing skills were just as rusty as his guitar ones, Tristan put all his soul into that song. This was his first performance, and the audience was enjoying it, even if the sound quality was poor and the singer wasn''t perfect. When the chorus began, some people even began singing along, and then more of them joined, chanting the lines. When Tristan yed thest note, there were at least fifteen people watching him, men and women. Now they all apuded. "This was damn cool!" "Hell yeah, I love this band!" "Man, are you a professional guitarist or something? Do you have a social page?" [Ding!] [ying guitar skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Singing skill increased by 2. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 18 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 80.] Chapter 6: Putting points in combat skill Tristan beamed at the gathered people and bowed, which made them apud some more. This¡­ this was better than drugs. "I''m d you liked it, everyone. I''m just practicing¡­ But one day I will have a social page with a billion followers!" After this, Tristan kept ying songs he still remembered after these years, for as long as his amplifier had the charge. Some people eventually grew bored and left his audience, but others became attracted to the sound instead. Although often Tristan made mistakes or forgot the lines, the attention of people was like the most powerful stimnt for him. He sang and yed, and he put all his joy from this second change in life into the music. And in the process of this, he was assaulted with system notifications. At this point, his brain was filtering out the ''ding'' sound. [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 3 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 6 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 4 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 2 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 6 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [Stage presence skill increased by 4. Reward: your CP increased by 40.] [Ding!] [Voice control skill increased by 2. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [Stage presence skill increased by 2. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [Singing skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Songwriting skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Charisma attribute increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 100!] ''Wow¡­ that''s a lot of Criminal Points. Especially from increasing my charisma!'' Tristan thought, scrolling through his notificationster. He was doing this as he walked toward his apartment with a guitar hanging over his shoulder and the guitar kit in a bag. ''Although more people than 6 listened to me, it looks like SIS only counts people I impressed for the first time. Or perhaps, because they were impressed already, I need to impress them more for SIS to give me a reward?'' Then he thought about another thing, something that slipped his mind entirely when he was ying. ''Damn, I could''ve probably earned some tips if I put a cup for money nearby. Oh well. It couldn''t have been that much money. Besides, now I can get more money in a better way.'' After dropping his guitar at home, Tristan, wearing his pop-star identity again, went toward the usual haunt of Mark''s gang. He didn''t forget about them and the cash they should still have on them after their robbery! The ce where the gang liked to hang out was a dpidated yground a stone''s throw away from the nearest liquor store. No kids yed here anymore, and the gang had scared off anyone else who wanted to sit and drink on the benches there. Right now, the trio was sitting on a bench, drinking beer and chatting casually. Evelyn was draped over Mark''s chest, cooing at him lovingly. Tristan was careful with this. Instead of the jacket that the gang was familiar with, Tristan put on a ck T-shirt that could belong to anyone. Even if his face was unrecognizable for many reasons, Tristan didn''t want the gang to suspect anything. He walked past the bench, with his heart beating anxiously in his chest. But he didn''t have to fear. When Tristan threw a passing nce at Mark, Evelyn, and Ricky, he saw no recognition on their faces. "Hey, what are you staring at?" Mark shouted, meeting Tristan''s eyes. "This is our hangout, get the hell out!" Tristan turned away, sneering, and walked away. He learned what they needed¡ªthe trio was doing perfectly fine without him, and didn''t fear his revenge at all. Even if they knew he wasn''t taken in by cops, they didn''t care. Their mistake. In a diner near his home, Tristan ate lunch and checked his today''s system shop. [======] [===Shop===] [Hypnotic voice talent: 3000 PP] [ying piano skill: 10 PP] [Hacking skill: 10 CP] [Combat analysis skill: 10 CP] [Glock 19: 1000 CP] [1 ammo magazine for Glock 19: 300 CP] [======] ''Tsk¡­ Everything that looks interesting is too expensive for me to buy today. It looks like if I want to buy anything in the shop, I must get at least a few thousand points first, then check it.'' It wasn''t such a problem, but Tristan was nning to spend all his current points today. He tapped through the system windows and put all 425 CP he had into his close-quartersbat skill. [Ding!] [Close-quartersbat skill increased from 21 to 446.] Suddenly, Tristan felt an influx of knowledge in his brain and body. He swayed in his seat, then sat straighter. ''Status.'' [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Rank: Nobody.] [Pop-star Points: 0] [Criminal Points: 0] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 33] [Charisma: 30] [Fearsomeness: 24] [Strength: 17] [Dexterity: 24] [Toughness: 40] [===Skills===] [Singing: 51] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 125] [Music theory: 19] [Music production: 8] [Acting: 20] [Songwriting: 14] [Voice control: 34] [Stage presence: 16] [Sneaking: 20] [Close-quartersbat: 446] [Observation: 31] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 28] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [======] Tristan became much more powerful just now, but without using the skill in practice, it was hard to say how much. However, he was going to practice soon. Smirking, Tristan finished his dinner and went home. *** Next day. Evelyn wouldn''t have recognized Tristan when he walked into their usual hangout ce, if not for his jacket and the hoop earring in his left ear. The ugly scars that covered his face were entirely gone! But the condescending, cold look in his eyes remained. The same look that irked Evelyn from the start. "Huh? Scarface, is that you?! What the hell happened to your face?" Mark asked, standing up from the bench. Tristan sneered. "Call me that one more time, and I will break your jaw. Mark, Evelyn, Ricky¡ªthis is yourst chance to kneel and apologize profusely. Otherwise¡­" He cracked his knuckles. "I will really fuck you up." Chapter 7: The day it all began One and a half years earlier. Evelyn was running down the narrow street, cursing her life and her high heels. Her pursuer was only a few meters behind her, quickly diminishing the distance between them. Usually, Evelyn was the one who lured people into narrow alleyways with her alluring looks so Mark could beat them up and rob them. But this time, she was the one being attacked in the broad daylight! "Stop running, babe! Just rx and I will make it nice for you!" her pursuer shouted, grinning lecherously. The few people hanging on the street pretended they didn''t see or hear a thing. In this ce, people knew that poking into other people''s problems was a good way to get problems of their own. ''Fucking bastard¡­ Just a little more!'' Evelyn thought desperately. Mark was waiting for her nearby¡ªhe would protect her. If she could get there. Evelyn''s pursuer got closer, close enough that she heard him panting behind her. Neither of the two people paid attention to a man in a man with a face covered by the hood of his jacket, who was sitting near a wall. But when the pair ran past him, he stood up and tackled Evelyn''s pursuer to the ground. "Agh! What¡ªGet off me, man! I''m gonna¡ªUgh!" Hearing this, Evelyn turned around to see the homeless man scuffle with her pursuer. Although the homeless man was on top, she wasn''t sure he would win the fight. Especially when she saw a glint of a knife in her pursuer''s hand. She turned away and kept running toward Mark, too focused on her own well-being to say even a "thank you". Evelyn didn''t look back and didn''t see the man cut Tristan''s shoulder. She didn''t see Tristan then wrench the knife out of the man''s hands and kick his head until he stopped resisting. She didn''t see Tristan checking the man''s pockets for valuables, either. Five minutester, Evelyn met with Mark at the old yground they usually hanged out at, and told him about this story. Mark was angry, of course, and Evelyn basked in his protective rage. She loved having such a devoted and strong protector like him¡ªwith Mark, Evelyn didn''t have to sleep with people for money and favors anymore, or fear beatings. Even if Evelyn thought that Mark himself was boring and his jokes were the stupidest thing ever, she stillughed at them every time. Fifteen minutester, their idyll was interrupted when a man walked into the old yground and approached the pair. Mark immediately tensed. "Hey, this is our hangout! Hear that, man? Get out!" Evelyn looked at the man closely, and her eyes widened. It was the same man who saved her. However, back then, Evelyn didn''t notice the terrible scars that covered Tristan''s hooded face. "I don''t want to intrude. I just saw that yourdy was in trouble, so I followed to check if she was alright." Tristan''s manner of speech was withdrawn, but polite and non-provoking. Evelyn smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, I''m fine thanks to you. Few people nowadays will actually help ady in trouble." Mark, realizing who Tristan was, immediately rxed and grinned at him. "Oh, you are the guy who saved my babe! Alright, you can sit with us here." Tristan moved toward Mark, but then winced and held on his shoulder. Some blood was visible there through the cut in his jacket. "Maybe next time. That guy cut my shoulder¡­ I hope I won''t need stitches, because the best I can afford is a band-aid." Tristan chuckled, as if that was a joke. However, he knew the cut was actually just a scratch. The real reason he was there, talking with these people, was that he hoped they would feel pity and give him some more cash. Evelyn frowned. She made it look like pity, but her thoughts were far from pity. That damn ugly beggar was indirectly asking for THEIR (her) money, while THEY (she) already didn''t have enough of them! Mark frowned, out of actual pity toward the wretch. However, he was much more grateful toward Evelyn''s savior than Evelyn herself. "Hey, baby¡­" he turned toward Evelyn. "Your savior took on someone with a knife. That takes some balls, eh? I think a person like that would be very helpful in our hustle. And being just two people on these streets is barely better than being one person." "You want to have him join us, love?" Evelyn asked, looking at Tristan. "You look pretty strong, that''s true. Like some grizzled warrior." She smiled at Tristan, putting more of her charm into it. More protectors were good in her book, as long as she didn''t have to sleep with him. However, Tristan met her smile with a cold, distrustful look. These days, Tristan wasn''t trusting people''s smiles. Especially since he remembered Evelyn running away earlier without a second nce. Realizing this, Evelyn tensed inwardly. Any person who won''t be controlled by her charms was a threat in her book. However, she already dug her grave there, because Mark took her words as an agreement. "That''s right! My name''s Mark. What''s yours?" "Tristan. So you want me with you?.." "Yeah. Come on, I can check on your wound and you won''t need any doctors. There''s a first aid kit in our t." Evelyn kept smiling and nodding to Mark''s words, but inwardly¡­ Inwardly, she knew that if she can''t make Tristan obey, she will have to get rid of him somehow. *** Present day. Looking into Tristan''s new face, Evelyn knew she had been right all along. That guy was a danger. Too bad for him, he decided that boldness was all it took to win a fight! "After what you did to me, you think you can say stuff like that, Scarface?" Evelyn spat out, standing up. Mark stood up too and cracked his knuckles. Ricky followed their example, as always. "The one who will be fucked up is you, shithead!" He charged at Tristan, throwing the first punch. Chapter 8: Utterly terrified Moving by an unfamiliar instinct, Tristan gracefully sidestepped the punch. Then Tristan used the inertia of Mark''s body to throw him to the ground with an extra kick on the underside of his knees. "Ack!" Mark struggled to stand, but Ricky was approaching Tristan instead. The wiry man lunged at Tristan with more speed, but less power in his attack than Mark had. However, thanks to the points he put in skills, Tristan''s body was full ofbat reflexes. Moving naturally like breathing, Tristan grabbed Ricky''s wrist and twisted his hand around, until Ricky was in a paralyzing hold. Then Tristan pressed some more. "AAAAAAGH!" There was a crack as Ricky''s arm went out of socket. Tristan pushed the wiry man aside, where he fell to his knees, clenching his limp right arm with his left one. There were tears of pain in his eyes. Mark stood up and snarled at Tristan like a wild beast. Evelyn approached from the other side, holding an open switchde. Tristan eyed them with disdain. "Damn you¡­ You were told to leave me alone!" Evelyn hissed. "You ain''t leaving this ce on your feet, asshole!" Mark shouted. They both moved at Tristan at once from opposite sides. This was an inconvenient position for him, since he could only see one attacker at once. He knew that even with hisbat skill, he might get wounded if he let them approach him as they wanted. So Tristan moved first this time. He went for Mark, lunging for his arm and using the bulky man''s movement to throw him over his shoulder. Although Tristan''s strength was barely enough for this maneuver, Mark''s inertia and Tristan''s skill did most of the work. Then, before Mark could recover again, Tristan stomped on his knee, hard. There was another crack. "Ugh!" Mark went pale with pain in his knee, which could even be broken at this point. Then Evelyn reached Tristan, trying to cut him with wild shes of her knife. The woman was no good at fighting and was relying on intimidation and charm more than anything. In two movements, Tristan took the knife out of Evelyn''s arms and broke her wrist, forcing the woman to step back. He put the switchde in his own pocket. Evelyn was crying from pain, and her mascara was running in two ck lines down her face. However, unlike Ricky, who could already only cry and pray in fear, she was standing up. With her free hand, Evelyn folded a fist. "Don''te closer, Scarface!" "Babe!" Mark growled. He was shaking from pain as he stood up and limped on one hand toward Tristan. Mark tried to attack one more time, but it only earned him another throw to the ground and a couple of kicks under the ribs. Evelyn fell to the ground from a single punch to the jaw afterward. Then Tristan walked around the group, talking and leaving generous kicks to the groaning bodies instead of punctuation. "Don''t act like I''m the viin here. I never did a thing against you when we were a part of the same gang. And HOW MANY TIMES DID I TELL YOU TO STOP CALLING ME THIS NICKNAME?!" With a sudden burst of anger, Tristan lunged at Evelyn, pinning her head to the ground with a tight grip on her head. "Ah¡ª" "I have a fucking name! A Scarface, huh? I hate this movie." Evelyn shook, crying harder. She was panting from fear¡ªhowever, not a word fell from her lips. The woman was so terrified by this new Tristan, that she couldn''t utter a single word of pleas. Tristan pulled Evelyn''s knife out of his pocket and shed wildly at the woman''s face. "No! Evelyn¡ªbastard, what are you doing with her?!" Mark shouted fruitlessly. "N-no, please, stop!" Evelyn tried to get away from Tristan and the knife, but he was holding her tight, leaving a cut after another, which bled profusely on her beautiful face. [Ding!] [You have terrified 2 people. Reward: your PP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [You have utterly terrified and impressed 1 person. Reward: your PP increased by 100.] Tristan paused and looked down at Evelyn. She looked back at him with a terror that went beyond fear and became something indistinguishable from awe. Her face was all bloody, and it was hard to tell how much of it remained whole besides the eyes. Tristan let out a breath, feeling his anger abating. These three weren''t worth any more of his thoughts. However, the feeling of power was still singing in his veins. Beating up these three was as good as performing. It made him feel so much better than them. And he could also earn system points by intimidating people. That was interesting. He wiped the bloody knife on Evelyn''s clothing and stood up. "Tristan, I''m sorry, I''m so sorry!" Ricky whined from the side. "Please, spare me. You are cooler than Mark, I will do whatever you say¡­ I will kick them both if you tell me! Just don''t¡ª" Tristan red at him. "Shut up! You are the most pathetic person here. Those who can''t think for themselves in this world only have worth as pawns. And pawns are only worth something when they are loyal enough to not leave at the first sign of trouble. You are useless even as a pawn, Ricky." Then Tristan turned to Evelyn. "Tell me where you have stashed the money you got from the robbery. And don''t try to lie to me." "I won''t¡­ I will tell you everything! We stashed them at¡­" Evelyn blurted out everything, and from what Tristan knew of the gang, her information sounded believable. After memorizing all that, Tristan stepped away from her. "Call a doctor for yourself. Or not. After you can walk, I want all three of you out of this city. If I see you again¡ªif I just hear that you are still here a monthter¡ªI will not be as merciful as today. You will rot in prison, like you almost made me." Tristan left at that. *** Two hourster. Tristan grinned, counting banknotes he took from the gang''s stash. There was $10000 in cash! The trio stole some expensive stuff from the store before being busted. It was good that the gang didn''t have the time to spend all that money. Now Tristan was going to spend them instead! Chapter 9: Shopping spree Next day. Tristan Gemello was testing clothes against himself and looking into the mirror of the second-hand store. ''I should think about my future image right now, because changing itter will be troublesome. And since I''m a criminal already, going for a bad boy vibe will be the easiest thing to do. This T-shirt is too bright for that, though. And this one is too punk¡­'' In thest two years, Tristan learned that second-hand and off-brand stores had a terrible quality of clothing, but sometimes there were quite interesting designs. Sometimes. After several hours of shopping at several stores, Tristan bought himself a new outfit for each of his identities. For the pop-star identity, Tristan got ck jeans with cut holes, a fake leather jacket with extra zippers on it, tall boots, and a purple T-shirt to add some color to the outfit. It fit with his eyes well. For the criminal identity, Tristan got a much less eye-catching outfit: ordinary blue jeans, sneakers, a light gray T-shirt and Guns & Roses ck hoodie. While he was at it, Tristan couldn''t resist buying some less necessary items of clothing, like a new rucksack instead of the tattered one he stole a year ago together with its contents. Later, dressed in his new almost leather jacket, Tristan enjoyed the sunlight while eating out in an actual restaurant. It was a cheap one, but the food was ten steps away above the diners he frequented until before. Then Tristan went to shop for other things necessary for his future careers. And there were going to be two careers, for sure. Not just for the pop-star points, but for the pure power that came with ignoring thew and beating his enemies ck and blue. Tristan still wanted to awe and shame certain people, but others clearly deserved no less than a broken bone or two. He won''t just be a pop-star, he will be a crime boss, too¡ªso if the need arose, Tristan could crush anyone under his boot, in any manner he wanted. *** A weekter. To lie down on a proper, nice bed with clean bedsheets and stare in the ceiling free of stains¡­ it was pure bliss. This one-room apartment even had a separate kitchen, so Tristan had much more space for work in his bedroom. Besides clothes, Tristan bought a good microphone to record videos and songs at home, and a DasBook, so he had something to edit videos at. He nned to impress many people online. Thest thing Tristan bought was a month''s subscription to a nearby gym¡ªto increase his attributes and get a lot of points for that. Finding this apartment, where the neighbors won''t kick on the walls if he tried to record something, wasn''t easy. That took him a lot of time just browsing ces, talking with their owners, and lying about having a job. But for the first time in years, Tristan felt almost like a rich person again. Then he opened his wallet and stared at the measly $200 left inside. Tristan winced and groaned. "How the hell did my money were gone so quickly? The stuff I bought¡ªit was cheap! The clothes were secondhand, and the DasBook was an old model, and this apartment is in a bad neighborhood where people get shot every evening." Then Tristan made mental calctions. Even that apartment cost him $2600 per month and deposit. The DasBook¡ªnot thetest or most powerful model!¡ªcost him $999. And the other things also added up. At least he had another month to gather rent. ''I can probably keep pickpocketing for now, but I can''t do that forever. Too much risk, especially now. When I was younger, the gangs ignored me since I was less than a nobody. Then I was in a gang myself. But now I''m on my own and have already beat up someone. Someone will definitely spread the rumors about that.'' Tristan realized he would need to find a job, at least until he joins another gang or makes his own. But joining a guard was much easier than building his own from scratch. With these thoughts and ns, Tristan opened his new DasBook and browsed job offers in the area. He hoped to find something that would let him earn more system points. A cashier, a cashier, a burger flipper, waiter, janitor¡­ Tristan scrolled and scrolled. Even a year ago he''d scoff at sries some of these jobs earned. At least by pickpocketing and robbing, he could earn a living. An advertisement caught Tristan''s eyes. [A pianist in a bar] Late evening to night hours, the sry¡ªnot great, but decent. More importantly, people were going to listen to Tristan''s music. The only requirement was knowing how to y piano, with a special bonus for candidates who could sing, too. There was only one problem¡ªTristan had no idea how to y the piano. But it wasn''t a problem at all! The next question Tristan put into the search line was, "piano practice room". After ten minutes of searching, Tristan knew where to go and what to spend hisst money at. He spent the rest of the evening reading and watching guides on how to y piano for newbies. *** Next morning. For $40, Tristan could y an hour in a practice room with a piano in one of the city''s music academies. It was a room without decorations, only a drum set, a piano, and a whiteboard on the wall. The walls were covered in sound-absorbing panels. Tristan wished he could y guitar here, but he came for the piano. An actual wooden piano, not an electronic one. He sat on the stool near it, remembered the guides, and opened the notes on his phone. Experimentally, Tristan put his fingers on the keyboard. Then he began following the steps of the guides, learning how to y basic notes, then simple melodies. Minute after minute, until half an hour passed in a blink of an eye. [Ding!] [You gained a new skill¡ªying piano. Reward: 100 CP!] Tristan smirked. 100 CP was good. But even better will be¡­ Putting all his PP into the piano skill and getting that job! Chapter 10: Becoming a pianist in an hour After dealing with Mark''s gang, Tristan had 120 PP stored. Now he took them all and put them into ying piano skill. [Ding!] [ying piano skill increased from 1 to 121.] A rush of knowledge and instincts fell upon Tristan. Several secondster, it abated, and Tristan cracked his knuckles. He shifted in his seat, automatically putting his hands and legs on the piano correctly. Now his posture was that of someone who actually knew what he was doing. Tristan opened a page of notes on his phone and peered at it. It was inconvenient to y like that, but after all his spending thest week, he was feeling too stingy to print actual notes. The phone sufficed. Tristan began ying the first notes of a "Prelude in C Major" by Sebastian Bach. It was a slow melody, sorrowful and slow from the beginning. His fingers moved almost on their own above the piano keys, bringing the note sheet to life. Excited by how easily he knew what keys to press and whenpared to hisplete fumbling before, Tristan began ying slightly faster, making the song sound more excited and upbeat than before for a moment. Then he reached the end of the note sheet page and had to flip to the next one. From this on, Tristan held his excitement and in check and finished ying the melody as it was made to be. And yet, when he finished ying, Tristan''s heart was beating fast in his checks. His fingertips were tingling. The music was beauty and power, and it was in his hands. For the next half an hour, Tristan yed various melodies, practicing the skills he bought. After all, he paid for a full hour in the practice room. By the end of that half an hour, he heard another notification. [Ding!] [ying piano skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] ''Not bad. So what''s my CP now? Status.'' [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Rank: Nobody.] [Pop-star Points: 0] [Criminal Points: 110] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 33] [Charisma: 30] [Fearsomeness: 24] [Strength: 17] [Dexterity: 24] [Toughness: 40] [===Skills===] [Singing: 51] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 125] [Music theory: 19] [Music production: 8] [Acting: 20] [Songwriting: 14] [Voice control: 34] [Stage presence: 16] [ying piano: 121] [Sneaking: 20] [Close-quartersbat: 446] [Observation: 31] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 28] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [======] ''My close-quartersbat is so high¡­ I don''t feel like I should put any more CP here. And pickpocketing¡ªI feel like I should aim at better ways of earning lots of money.'' Tristan was still thinking about this as he walked back to his apartment. Eventually, still walking, he opened his system interface and put all the points in the observation skill. It seemed useful, even if Tristan wasn''t sure how exactly it worked. The effect made Tristan stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk in shock. He looked around, feeling like he saw the world for the first time. Although Tristan''s sight didn''t improve from what it was, his brain noticed all the details and facts that passed below Tristan before. Several birds were fighting on the other side of the street. Clearly, there was some food for them. Someone must''ve dropped something. A group of teenagers gathered near a storefront. Theyughed obnoxiously and seemed like normal kids¡ªbut Tristan''s new sight noticed the slightly tense way they held each other, and the shifty eyes of them. When one of them moved, there was a glint of metal on the inside of his jacket. These teens were up to no good. They could''ve been a gang, too. A man was walking past him, holding a beautiful woman ten years younger by her elbow. There was a trace of a wedding ring on his finger, even if no ring was in sight. If the woman knew that her partner was married and hiding it, her bright smile showed that she clearly didn''t care. Shaking his head, Tristan resumed walking home. He thought he was observant before¡ªyou had to watch your back out there, or you were toast¡ªbut this was nothingpared to that level of skill. 100 points really made a difference. And with almost 500 points inbat skill, Tristan could probably beat professional boxing and karate fighters. He smiled to himself. Unconsciously, Tristan''s posture changed. Now there was an aura ofplete self-assurance around him. He walked like someone utterly sure that he was invincible, because in a way, Tristan did. *** That evening, Tristan called the number left in the advertisement, with the contact name listed as "A. Pierce", introduced himself, and asked for the job. "Hm, hm. As a pianist, is that correct, Mr. Gemello?" a dry voice asked from the other side. "Yes, Mr. Pierce. I can send a resume on your email if you need, but the vacancy¡ª" "Bring it in paper form for the interview. Can you appear at 9 PM this Thursday?" It was three days from today. Tristan, of course, had nothing scheduled except for his daily gym visits. "Yes, Mr. Pierce." "Good. Since there will be another candidateing at that time, I will be able to interview both of you at once." "Another candidate?" "Yes. You sound surprised, Mr. Gemello, although the sry offered wasn''t that low." Pierce didn''t sound mocking, just ndly voicing a fact. "Ah, it was nothing. I don''t have questions, Mr. Pierce." "Call this number at work hours if they appear." After a brief exchange of polite goodbyes, Pierce ended the call. Then Tristan clenched his fists. Competition¡­ of course there would bepetition. But to meet another job candidate directly¡ªhe didn''t expect that. However, his determination only grew from the challenge. Tristan decided this job was the most optimal to gather resources from, and he was going to get it! So now, he went for his DasBook and beganposing a n. Chapter 11: The chase had already turned into a robbery Next day. ''Although I am about to get a job, right now I still need to pickpocket because of all my spendings. That''s not productive, but thanks to the points in the observation skill, at least I should get enough cash faster.'' This time, Tristan searched for his targets on a bus. A bus was a convenient ce to pickpocket, but if he got in trouble, escaping could beplicated. Thanks to his observation skill, he noticed where people stashed their wallets even easier than before. After a person bought their ticket, Tristan could swipe their wallet with ease, even right from a carelessly open bag sometimes. He did this a couple of times, then decided to leave the bus at the next stop. Tristan didn''t want to attract suspicion. When the bus stopped at the station and its door opened, Tristan squished past a burly man toward the exit. During that motion, Tristan''s elbow caught the thickness of a wallet in the man''s loosely hanging jacket. It was right there, and Tristan was about to leave the bus anyway, so he didn''t think twice before reaching for it. But when he tried to pull the hand with the wallet out of the pocket, Tristan''s wrist was caught in a vice grip. "HEY! What do you think you are doing, putting your hands on my wallet, brat?!" Tristan looked up and saw the burly man ring at him. ''Damn!'' This wasn''t the first time Tristan was caught, but it was never a fortunate situation. The bus passengers and people who were about to enter the bus all paused what they were doing, turning toward themotion. Some began checking for their wallets, a few realizing that theirs were missing. Cursing inwardly, Tristan tried to pull his wrist free, but the bruising grip on his arm was too strong. The man in front of him wasn''t just burly¡ªhe was built like a fridge! Tristan kicked him under the knee, aiming for a vulnerable nerve point he knew instinctively. Although Tristan wasn''t as physically strong as this man, the kick still made the man stumble. In shock of pain, his grip on Tristan''s wrist became weaker, and Tristan pulled free. Then, not wasting the chance he created, Tristan jumped out of the bus and pushed through the small crowd of people on the sidewalk. "Stop, you thief! You think I will let you go so easily?!" The burly man followed Tristan like an enraged bull! ''Bastard, you have your wallet¡ªwhy can''t you leave me alone?'' Tristan thought, looking over his shoulder at the running man. He was too fast! Tristan could run, but that man probably spent hours upon hours on the treadmill. What''s worse, people all around were now watching the pursuit. The bus stopped on a pretty popted street, and while some shouted for police, others were pulling phones to make videos. No way Tristan could switch identities when so many people were around, and no way he could hide in the corner of some grocery store with that bull of a man right behind him. Tristan looked around frantically, noticing a narrow alleyway turning from the street. He dashed there immediately. His pursuer was right behind Tristan, not shouting anymore and instead saving his breath to run faster. However, at least in this ce there weren''t any other people. Tristan ran down the narrow back streets for a minute longer until his pursuer almost caught him¡ªthen suddenly turned around on his heel and stood in a fighting stance. The bull of a man had a face red with rage, and didn''t think as he charged at Tristan. His desire to give Tristan a beating was written inly on his face¡ªthis was a man who was using any cause to scratch his fists. Tristan''s perceptive eyes noticed the scars on the man''s knuckles, which meant that he often broke them in fights. But he also noticed that the burly man didn''t raise his fists as a professional. When the man got closer to Tristan, he easily sidestepped his straightforward attacks and kicked him to the knee as hard as he could. "You should''ve left me in peace while you still had your wallet and your limbs!" Tristan shouted. The man gasped and fell face-first to the ground. However, he was just so big and strong that a simple kick to the knee wasn''t enough to harm him much. Tristan saw all that, so he attacked again before the man could gather himself and stand up. He raised his foot and kicked the man''s thick head. A single kick, carefully measured to disorient the man and render him helpless, but not to kill. Then Tristan pulled out a switchde from his pocket and put it next to the man''s neck. "Don''t move now, or you are a goner," Tristan warned darkly. The anger he felt at this moment oozed from his voice, piercing through the anger in the burly man''s head, making him turn pale. His head was swimming from the kick, but the man finally caught up with the events of thest seconds. Everything happened so quickly that he didn''t process it until now, but the pickpocket he was just chasing turned the tables and was robbing him! That was right¡ªwhile Tristan''s left hand held the knife to the burly man''s neck, the other one took the wallet from his jacket. Then Tristan stood up and kicked the man in the stomach for good measure. "You brought me way too much trouble today, asshole. I hope this will be a lesson for you." [Ding!] [You have scared 1 person. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] The notifications improved Tristan''s mood, stopping him from kicking the burly man any more. With onest scoff, Tristan fled the alleyway. He was done earning money for today. It was time to count and spend it again. Chapter 12: Preparing for the first job Tristan earned $200 on that day, which he spent carefully, and 110 Pop-star Points. The points he put into piano skill almost immediately. For $12, he bought a book of note sheets for piano, then spent most of his remaining money to rent a lot of time in a musical room. Tristan studied the music, so that he could y it from memoryter if necessary, and because he was improving every time he yed. Sometimes it was in his head, but he kept receiving system notifications about his skills improving. Overall, in three days of practice, Tristan''s piano skill improved by 11, and his music theory skill improved by 2 thanks to reading about piano music. He also continued walking to the gym daily. Thest visit to the gym happened on the day of the interview. Tristan was running on the treadmill when¡ª [Ding!] [Toughness attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] Much slower than skills, but Tristan''s attributes improved. And soon after that, when Tristan was lifting dumbbells¡ª [Ding!] [Strength attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] Tristan was smiling to himself when he showered after the gym. Back at home, he opened his status and put these points into skills, too. 100 went into singing skill, and 110 into stage presence. Tristan wasn''t sure which skill he will need the most in the future, so he tried to be equal with them. Now his status looked like that: [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Rank: Nobody.] [Pop-star Points: 0] [Criminal Points: 130] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 33] [Charisma: 30] [Fearsomeness: 25] [Strength: 18] [Dexterity: 24] [Toughness: 41] [===Skills===] [Singing: 151] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 125] [Music theory: 21] [Music production: 8] [Acting: 20] [Songwriting: 14] [Voice control: 34] [Stage presence: 126] [ying piano: 232] [Sneaking: 20] [Close-quartersbat: 446] [Observation: 141] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 28] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [======] Tristan had some Criminal Points to use, but he decided to stash them for now and spend them when he charted his n for the criminal career. Having close-quartersbat and observation was enough for now. Now he had to actually write and print his resume while he still had the time. Too bad that "Tristan Gemello" was a literal nobody. Although SIS created documents for this identity, they were very bare-bones and average. Average school marks, no special activities or contest rewards. Of course, no degrees in music. Tristan will have to just convince Pierce that he knows music well enough. *** This evening. The bar''s name was "The Good Lion", and the signboard had a lion''s silhouette on it. It stood away from the touristy ces¡ªin fact, it was close to one of the poor neighborhoods of the city. A strange choice of location. The atmosphere inside was much less ssy than Tristan imagined from a bar that had an actual piano inside. Itcked any taste, like a lucky gold digger who snatched a rich husband and covered herself in jewels from head to toe. Gaudy art pieces of lions on the walls and wooden panels didn''t work. The piano in the corner still felt out of ce. All the patrons present at the time had a subtle air of danger around them. Some, like the bar, tried to appear ssy and failed. Tristan, in his unremarkable clothing, attracted a few suspicious nces when he first entered. Although Tristan''s posture didn''t show it, he was slightly nervous. It''s been a while since he tried to find a job. After running from home, he had to apply to one, eventually. Stealing, of course, wasn''t his first choice of profession. Some people recognized him as "that spoiled rich brat who was punished by life for his misbehavior" while others just recoiled from his scars and said that Tristan will scare both clients and coworkers. This was going to be Tristan''s first job if he passed. After Tristan exined why he was there, a waiter led him to the back of the bar, toward the offices hiding from the visitors'' sight. He left him in a waiting room, which had more of the gaudy lions and a single leather couch. On the other side was a door with the brass que that read, "Andrew Pierce, Chief Manager". "Please, wait here. Mr. Pierce will call you in," the waiter exined and left. Tristan nodded and turned to look at the young man, who was already waiting on the couch. The second candidate whom Pierce mentioned. He looked like someone fresh out of the music academy, almost of Tristan''s age. Perhaps, if Tristan hadn''t gotten into a car crash two years ago, he''d also be like this young man. Except he''d already have better job offers than in some cheap bar. The young man looked Tristan over, then frowned. "You are applying for the pianist job, too? You don''t look like a piano person." Tristan raised his eyebrows. "Really? How can someone look like a piano person or not? It''s not written on my T-shirt." "It''s written on your face. And hair. Only guitar guys wear hair like this. It''s a total mess." Tristan actually cut it himself, then let it grow naturally into something more artfully wild than just wildly wild. He ran a palm through his hair, then struck a pose that fit a stage more than a casual conversation and grinned. His looks were amazing pared to what they were), and Tristan wasn''t going to let some boy who didn''t see life to bitch at him. "Maybe you should''ve be a hairdresser or a stylist instead of a musician, if you know so much about hair, huh?" The young man glowered. "I''m just saying you won''t get this job, so you can leave now and don''t waste our time." Tristan already had a couple of snarky retorts ready, but at that moment, the door to Pierce''s office opened. A tall, stick-like middle-aged man in round sses stepped out. Pierce looked over at both gathered job candidates. "Good evening. I''m Andrew Pierce, the person most responsible for this establishment. Today, perhaps, I will pick one of you for this vacancy. Now,e into my office. I know nothing about music, so your resumes hopefully will be enough to decide." Chapter 13: Competition for the vacancy ''If he only cared about the resumes, why did he ask us toe and deliver them in person? This just wastes everybody''s time,'' Tristan thought in annoyance. He didn''t show it as he entered the nd office room and put his printed resume on the table. "Please, sit down," Pierce said, gesturing at a pair of guest chairs. When everybody sat down, he opened the resume of the second candidate. Several seconds of silent readingter, Pierce spoke, not lifting his eyes from the text. "Mr. Valerian, what made you apply for the vacancy in this establishment?" The young man sat straighter, like a teacher''s pet answering a question in ss. "I hope this job will help me practice my piano skills and grow as a musician." Tristan watched Pierce''s reaction carefully, but his face told nothing about whether or not he liked the answer. "I see. What about you, Mr. Gemello?" "Hm¡­ Well, I want to be honest with you, Mr. Pierce. I need the money, and this work has convenient hours." Pierce was clearly a businessman, from what he said earlier¡ªas if he cared about someone''s music skills! At least, this was what Tristan thought. "Very understandable. But your resume says that you have no prior musical education?" "I am mostly self-taught." Valerian raised his nose higher, and for a moment there was a victorious smile on his face. Tristan sent him a dark side-eyed nce. Pierce finished leafing through the resumes and closed them. "Well, I can''t check how good you are at music if you are self-taught, Mr. Gemello. I''m forced to deny you this vacancy." Now Valerian smiled openly, but Tristan wasn''t about to give up yet. "Mr. Pierce, please, wait. This job is about entertaining your bar patrons¡ªlet them decide which of us is more fit for it. In practice. It won''t take much time for each of us to y a song." "Hey! I mean¡­ What''s the point in testing? Formal education will win over self-teaching every day, this is simply obvious," Valerian said. However, Pierce was nodding already. "Yes, this is reasonable, Mr. Gemello. I should''ve thought about this from the start. Follow me." Now it was Tristan''s turn to smile victoriously as Pierce led the pair back into the main hall of the bar. "You don''t stand a chance anyway, guitarhead," Valerian whispered on their way. Tristan silently let the man delude himself with these words. In the bar hall, Pierce gestured at the piano, which was standing there sadly with a closed lid. There were no note sheets, of course. "It should be still set up since thest pianist quit. Mr. Valerian, y something for our audience." And there was an audience. Around fifteen patrons were in the bar at the time, and the gathering of people near the piano made them curious. Valerian sat on the stool and pressed several keys for a test. Pierce was right, and the piano was tuned correctly. After this, Valerian flexed his fingers. He sat like the bar was his personal performance hall, with his back ramrod straight. "Beethoven - Moonlight Sonata." Valerian skillfully yed this slow and sorrowful melody. It spread through the room, hushing the conversations and turning eyes to the pianist. In this moment, Valerian was a picture of this powerful sorrow, each press of a piano key like a knife wound. His performance was as great as his school marks, and it showed the genius of the originalposer as well as it deserved. The entire Moonlight Sonatasted fifteen minutes, but Valerian cut it short in the third minute, after onest set of tugs on people''s heartstrings. There was silence for a minute, then someone quietly apuded. Several people began apuding too. A short round of ps followed. A short while after, conversations between patrons resumed. Valerian stood up and bowed formally, looking proud of himself. Pierce didn''t show any reaction again, just gestured for Tristan to try. Tristan exhaled and sat on the chair. His body found afortable position by instinct¡ªslightly slouched, so he could easily reach every piano key. He ran the songs he memorized in his head and stopped on one of the all-time hits. However, he didn''t announce it aloud. It was "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen¡ªalso a longer melody than fit the moment. It was also originally not for a piano alone¡ªbut when Tristan was preparing, he found plenty of piano covers for it to learn from. Tristan cut straight to the middle of the song. His fingers found the notes of a short entry part and he yed it, soon reaching the part which had the most well-known piano part in the original song. Tristan opened his mouth and began singing the sad, yet hopeful, beginning. "Mama, just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he''s dead. Mama, life had just begun, But now I''ve gone and thrown it all away. Mama, ooh, didn''t mean to make you cry. If I''m not back again this time tomorrow. Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters¡­" With his back to the audience, Tristan couldn''t see their reaction, and his entire focus was on ying this song, anyway. He didn''t see the recognition on the faces of patrons, or how other people nodded to the lyrics with way too much understanding. Tristan simply poured his entire being into the song, like every time he yed, letting his burning will to win and his love for music itself to carry it. [Ding!] He ignored the sound. The notifications could wait. Couple minutester Tristan yed onest ord and fell silent together with the piano. However¡ª "Hey! Why did you stop? y the rest of it!" Tristan raised his eyebrow and turned toward the source of the voice. Next to the man who said this, several others nodded. Tristan quickly turned around and, with a grin, continued ying the rest of the song, which became more and more upbeat, just like Tristan''s mood. Chapter 14: Tristans rank grows When Tristan finished ying, the bar patrons apuded him much more loudly than to Valerian. Tristan stood up from his seat, at the same time ncing in the corner of his eye, where his notifications were floating. [You had impressed an audience of 16 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 70.] ''Not bad. And this was just one song in one evening¡­'' "Mr. Pierce, is this the new pianist? He''s much better than thest one we had!" a bar patron called out. "Yeah, that guy didn''t know a single good song, unlike this one!" Tristan turned to the patrons and bowed slightly, smiling as he did. The cheeky attitude he showed earned him more grins. Many of them were patronizing, especially from the older patrons, but all were friendly to a greater or lesser extent. Valerian looked like someone pped him in the face. "A good song? This¡ªThis wasn''t even a song for a piano! Who the hell ys rock songs on a piano?" No one listened to his protests, though. Pierce fixed his sses, looking between the two candidates. "Well, it''s clear whom people like more. I suppose this should suffice. Mr. Valerian, you may go now. Mr. Gemello, return with me to the office to sing the contract." Tristan smiled at Pierce gratefully and nodded his head. "Thank you, Mr. Pierce." Tristan then nodded in goodbye to Valerian, who huffed in response. This only made Tristan smile wider. This job was basically in his pocket¡­ he won. "I wouldn''t work somewhere where people have no taste, anyway!" Valerian said, marching out of the bar. A sore loser. Tristan was going to forget all about his existence in an hour, that was how insignificant the man was. Ten minutester, Tristan read the contract Pierce gave him. He didn''t have experience with job contracts, so he read carefully, wary of pitfalls. However, there didn''t seem to be any. His sry, possible bonuses and responsibilities were all written out neatly. Tristan will be able to gather tips from patrons, and he will be in charge of picking his songs, as long as they didn''t disturb anyone. He only had to be in the bar five days a week,te evenings¡ªfour hours a shift. The weekends were all his. The sry was paid weekly, so Tristan didn''t have to wait long for his first one. As bonuses, Tristan got an employee sale in the bar, but this was all. Tristan put on his signature on the contract, at thest moment remembering to change it slightly from the one he was used to. He was Tristan Gemello right now, after all. [Ding!] [Your Pop-star rank has changed from Nobody to Opened The Door! Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] Tristan suppressed a gasp of shock. 1000 CP at once? Wow, just wow. Landing a job had benefits beyond, well, having a job! ''Does this mean that I will get a simr rank increase from getting a job in a criminal career? Perhaps joining a gang? Are there other benefits in increasing my rank besides getting points?'' "Your next working shift will start next Monday at 21:00. Don''t bete." Tristan stood up and nodded. "Yes, Mr. Pierce. Goodbye, and have a good evening." He had Friday and all weekends before his first shift. Perhaps it was the time for him to advance his criminal career too. However, this was much less straightforward than replying to a job application. Tristan needed a n. *** Next evening. Tristan Hayes walked down the streets of the worst neighborhood there was. The kind of neighborhood where you could hear gunshots every night. His slightly slouched posture didn''t attract the attention of people here. And these people already were used to minding their business. However, Tristan didn''t miss a single detail about what was going around here. He noticed a man subtly passing a crumpled cigarette box to another (which clearly had anything BUT cigarettes), a girl unting her skin on the corner, and a guy sitting on a sidewalk, staring into space in a drug-induced stupor. This was a ce where crime went rampant. But even here, there was lesser crime, the kind people were well-used to, the unavoidable kind; and the crime that made even these people wince. A distant scream made Tristan perk up like a bloodhound. This was just what his n needed. He ran in its direction, ignoring the nces from the passersby. After a few turns, Tristan emerged at an entrance to a dank alleyway. A balding, middle-aged man was pressing a young woman into the wall with his entire body, silencing her further cries of help with a hand on her mouth. His other hand was forcefully groping the woman''s body, pushing itself under her clothes. An absolutely disgusting scene, despite being quitemon. Tristan''s eyes noticed that the woman wore garish make-up and clothes that were too bright and open than wasmon. She was most likely another street whore, and many people would''ve considered that she should be alright with what she was getting. Tristan still thought it was disgusting. This wasn''t why he was there, but this was the truth. Without a word, he ran up to the balding man and punched him in the ear. With a gasp of shock, the man stumbled back, but Tristan didn''t let him recover. He continued punching and kicking to the jaw, sr plexus, stomach, groin. After the second punch, the man copsed to the ground, but Tristan didn''t stop until he was a crying, groaning mess. Then he stomped on the man''s ankle until he heard a crunch¡ªjust for good measure. "That''s what assholes like you will get," Tristan said, and turned to the woman he saved. She was gasping for the air, staring at Tristan in shock and awe. [Ding!] [You have terrified 1 person. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [You have awed 1 person. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] Tristan sent the woman a reassuring smile. Just to calm her down a little. "Can you get away from here on your own, miss?" She stood up and nodded hurriedly. Then the woman took a deep breath and visibly calmed. "Yes, yes. T-thank you, mister!" The woman smiled suggestively. "How can I thank you for this?" Chapter 15: Beating people up for reputation Tristan stared down at the woman, utterly unimpressed. She was trying to offer him her "goods" right after being groped like that? As if he would touch something that slimy man touched with a ten foot pole. Actually, he wouldn''t touch her well-used goods even in a hazmat suit. "Just go. Don''t thank me." The strict tone in which Tristan said this urged the woman to nod and move. "Uh¡­ If you need anything, you can just ask around for Romeo¡ªthat''s my pimp. He wouldn''t have let that shithead do this if he was there!" With these words, the woman walked out of the alleyway on shaky legs. Left alone, Tristan quickly patted the balding man''s pockets, taking all the cash out of his wallet¡ªa pathetic $20. This was so little that Tristan kicked the guy again to relieve his anger. "I bet you were trying to rape that girl because you couldn''t afford her. Tsk." But at least now she will definitely spread the word about Tristan to all her girlfriends. Which was just what Tristan wanted. He didn''t save her to save someone¡ªthis was all a n to build his reputation! It was an idea Tristan came to when he thought about advancing his criminal rank. Smaller gangs, like Mark''s, were rtively easy to join¡ªit was all about finding them and convincing a person or two. But Tristan didn''t want or need to be a part of something so small. He aimed at bigger gangs, ones that did actual business in this city. Ones that had big money. But they didn''t ept just anyone from the street, not for any meaningful position at least. You had to prove yourself to them, show that you aren''t a rival spy or an undercover cop, or simply someone who doesn''t know shit. Tristan could''ve approached one of these organizations, but even then he''d be amon soldier in the ranks for who knew how long. Thus, Tristan decided to grow his reputation first. As long as he beats the scums on the street, eventually people will recognize him as someone strong. And since these people were pieces of shit which even the criminals would look down at, the risk of offending the wrong person was minimal. Eventually, Tristan was going to get his chance to join the ranks of someone worthwhile. Until then, he was going to grind his Pop-star points. *** Next day. In the early morning, Tristan spent two hours in the gym. After that, he spent four hours learning guitar songs and wishing he also had an electronic keyboard at home. He reheated himself frozensagna for lunch, nostalgically remembering the hired cook in the Hayes family mansion. In the evening, Tristan nned to spend four more hours beating people up again. But before that, he had another thing to do. Something important before his new job will eat up more of his time. Tristan had to record a video. He bought a microphone, but only had hisptop and phone camera. The former had much better image quality. Tristan moved hisptop and microphone around the apartment, trying to find a good angle and background. Eventually, he pointed the camera at the window and ced a chair in the ce with the best lighting. There, Tristan sat with his cheap electronic guitar. One day, he wouldpose his own songs. But for now, he was simply going to sing a cover on another famous rock song he knew. The song wasn''t one he was the most familiar with, but after listening to it once online, Tristan felt like it was going to be perfect to set off his career. He set the camera and microphone to record, put the spare 20 PP into his guitar skill¡ªit was 145 by now¡ªand began ying. When his voice slipped from the high note, Tristan began again. A slip on the guitar tempo¡ªagain. Again. [Ding!] [Singing skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [ying guitar skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] Again. Again! [Ding!] [Singing skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [ying guitar skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Stage presence skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] Tristan''s fingers hurt, but he never stopped. He even abandoned his evening ns, ying the same song over and over until thete evening. He had to achieve the closest he could to perfection. But when it was almost night, Tristan decided that this time¡­ It would do. He stretched his tired limbs, shook his fingers, and went to check the footage. There was still a lot of work with editing the video before it could be published, and Tristan was an absolute noob in that sort of thing. After dinner, he edited the videote into the night, and even then, he was surprised by a sudden notification. [Ding!] [You gained a new skill¡ªvideo editing. Reward: 100 CP!] Taking this as a good sign, Tristan created a YouTube channel and posted the final result there. On that video, Tristan Gemello was sitting near the window. It waste, so the room and his face were slightly shadowed, creating an aura of mystique around him. Tristan, with his fake leather jacket and torn jeans, really looked like a bad boy with a handsome face and a hidden heart of gold¡ªthe kind that any girl would run off with. And the guitar only increased the impression. This was was a beautiful song, originally performed by a beautiful woman. Tristan''s voice put an entirely different spin on it. If before it was a song about a kind of man to swipe a girl from her feet at sunset and leave in the sunrise, now it seemed like the song was about a woman. A woman who swept Tristan from his feet. And Tristan''s feelings as he sang were genuine¡ªbut the woman the song was for was music itself. Music and power, those were his muses, intertwined by money! No other couldpete. Satisfied by what he saw in the video, Tristan closed theptop and went to sleep, so he could see the reaction of people to his video in the morning. Chapter 16: Buying a new talent Tristan woke up the next morning and immediately saw arge notification in front of him. [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 10 thousand people online with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 3000!] After a moment of staring at the number, Tristan¡ªstill only in his underwear¡ªrushed to hisptop and checked his video. It blew up overnight! 13 thousand views, almost a thousand likes, and a few dozenments. A few hundred people subscribed to his channel already. [Nice cover!] [Wow that voice¡­ is so dreamy! <3 <3 <3] [my heart is broken help] [this is BANGER!!! needs more views!] This made Tristan giddy. He really, really struck gold here! 13 thousand views was nothing much by YouTube standards, but for the first video, this was great. Tristan nned to make many more videoster on. But before that, Tristan put on some clothing and opened the system shop. [===Shop===] [Partially Sleepless talent: 3000 points (any)] [Torture skill: 10 CP] [Make-up skill: 10 PP] [A driving license: 1000 points (tap to choose identity)] [======] As always, the daily SIS shop had a talent, an item, and a couple of skills. This time, it offered the driving license again. It was tempting to buy it, but Tristan didn''t have a car, anyway. Instead, he tapped the talent to open its description. [Partially Sleepless: your body requires less sleep to function. Only 4 hours of sleep per day is enough to get all the benefits of 8-hour sleep. Is a prerequisite for the "Sleepless" talent.] ''Incredible,'' Tristan realized immediately. ''And that other talent, "Sleepless"¡ªwill it let me live without sleep entirely?'' Someone living a double life like Tristan definitely needed extra hours in the day. He immediately bought the talent, then checked his remaining points. [Pop-star Points: 0] [Criminal Points: 1350] At the sight of 0 Pop-star Points, Tristan sighed. Bing famous online was surely easier than bing a king of the streets. However, he knew it would give him power no online celebrity could dream about. And more PP, of course. With that in mind, Tristan nned his routine for the rest of the weekends, and for the next week, too. These were busy days. Learning how to promote his YouTube channel and other social pages Tristan was going to make, going to gym, beating up people, and learning piano songs¡­ Yeah, extra hours without sleep were necessary. *** A weekter. After a week of his schedule, Tristan''s attributes increased a little more, and so did his skills. He had also been monitoring his shop all week for "Sleepless" talent, but didn''t see it yet, so he was mostly saving points for it. The only exception was putting points into video editing skill for his next video¡ªwhich Tristan didn''t post yet. He wanted his next cover to be better. And soon, he nned to move onto original songs. His status now looked like that: [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Opened The Door.] [Criminal rank: Nobody.] [Pop-star Points: 361] [Criminal Points: 2530] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 34] [Charisma: 31] [Fearsomeness: 27] [Strength: 19] [Dexterity: 24] [Toughness: 42] [===Skills===] [Singing: 179] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 164] [Music theory: 21] [Music production: 8] [Acting: 20] [Songwriting: 14] [Voice control: 53] [Stage presence: 137] [ying piano: 246] [Video editing: 201] [Sneaking: 20] [Close-quartersbat: 456] [Observation: 160] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 30] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Partially Sleepless] [======] There was a half an hour walk from the bar where Tristan worked (uneventfully so far) and his apartment. Usually, Tristan used that time to n more. He was thinking that he needed to consider learning more criminal skills for the sake of PP at least, when he noticed a suddenly hostile gaze on himself. "Bastard! Stop right there! You thought I won''t recognize you?!" From the edge of the sidewalk, three people approached Tristan. He saw them before and dismissed them as not a danger¡ªthey looked like ordinary blue cor workers. Now Tristan froze. ''Who are these people? Did they recognize me as Hayes?!'' The first of the trio was red-faced and shaking with anger. He grabbed the cor of Tristan''s T-shirt, pulling him close. Tristan could''ve easily avoided this, but he was still in his Pop-star identity! He couldn''t fight anyone in it! If he did, and it somehow was put on Tristan Gemello''s criminal record, this was going to cripple Tristan''s career in the future (and possibly put Tristan in a prison). As a public person, Tristan Gemello won''t be able to hide from thew. "Mister, you must''ve mistaken me with someone!" Tristan said. "The pretty boy is right¡ªlook at him! The guy your Jessica ran off with looked less handsome, didn''t he?" The guy who was holding Tristan''s cor shook. "THIS IS EVEN WORSE! Look at him, so smug! He''s just the same wife-stealing asshole, I bet!" "Shut up! If your wife ran off, it''s because you are a walking potato who doesn''t know what a shower is!" Tristan bit his tongue, but it was toote. He pissed these people off even more. "YOU shut up! My Jessica loved me for my personality! She was my light, my soulmate! You must''ve tricked her with your lies and pretty face!" "I''m NOT the¡ª" Tristan was interrupted by a punch to the gut. He saw iting, so he tensed his muscles, absorbing the worst of the damage, but it still hurt! The potato guy shook his fist and sneered. "That''s right! Ain''t so smug now, huh?!" More punches rained on Tristan after that, from the main offender and his friends. Tristan could only block them with his forearms, protect his face, and search for the moment to act. The moment his attackers paused to catch their breath, Tristan dashed between them and ran! A man tried to hold Tristan by his jacket, but he just shook it off and kept running to the nearest alleyway. He heard shouts behind him, but no footsteps¡ªthese guys didn''t even bother to chase him. As soon as Tristan was out of sight, he put on his earring. Now that he had nothing holding him back, Tristan was going to punish these guys as they deserved. Chapter 17: An unexpected job offer The three men didn''t chase Tristan. The man who started all this shook his fist in the air victoriously, but his eyes were leaking tears. He kicked at Tristan''s discarded jacket. The man was crying out his sorrows and celebrating his triumph at once. "That''s right! Run, you coward! Bastards, all handsome men like you! You stole my h-honey muffin, my baby girl, my sweet roll!" His friend half-hugged the crying man. "Forget that asshole, pal¡­ Just forget him!" Both of them were so focused on themselves that they didn''t notice Tristan Hayes until the third man pointed in his direction. This man was frowning, confused by how simr Tristan''s clothing was to that of a punk they beat before. "Hey, look at this guy! What the hell is his problem?" Tristan approached them unhurriedly, but each of his steps radiated barely held back anger. He noticed the slight recognition in the eyes of the man pointing at him. This was dangerous, but Tristan had the solution. While the trio still was confused, Tristan walked up to them and punched the closest man in the nose. "What?! Man, what did we do to you?!" another man shouted. Tristan sneered and kicked him under the knee, making the man''s leg buckle under him. "I can''t leave my cousin alone for five minutes! How dare you attack him? He didn''t do anything to you! I''m going to teach you a lesson in his stead to not attack random people on the street!" This fairly stupid ''legend'' was something Tristan made up just now. But it reced that annoying recognition in people''s eyes with understanding and fear. Tristan turned to the "potato man". He had just stopped crying when Tristan punched him in the sr plexus, making the man''s eyes tear up again with pain! Then Tristan punched again and again, releasing his anger until the man fell to the sidewalk and curled into a bawling ball of misery. "Stop! Stop right there, or I will shoot!" Tristan''s head snapped back. While the guy with a broken nose was just standing, helplessly clutching it and bleeding all over his shirt, the other man was aiming a gun at Tristan''s chest. The man''s hands on the gun were trembling, but the distance was too short to miss. Tristan sneered and walked right toward the man. Although his heart was beating fast in his chest, and his palms were sticky with cold sweat, Tristan''s face showed no hesitation or fear. Anyone more observant would''ve noticed that Tristan was afraid. He was only acting less scared than he was, but in life and Hollywood, the only things mattered were ones that people would see! And faced with this determination, the other man''s fear only increased. His hands shook even harder than before, and his finger still couldn''t press on the gun''s trigger. Then Tristan''s arm shot forward like a snake, grabbing the man''s wrist and breaking it. The gun fell out of limp fingers, but Tristan caught it with his other hand before it fell to the ground. The gun''s former owner screamed, but Tristan shut him up with a punch to the jaw that sent him to the sidewalk with the other two. For the final good measure, Tristan kicked that man''s gut, too. [Ding!] [Acting skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [You have terrified 3 people. Reward: your PP increased by 20.] Finally, he picked up his jacket, shook it from dust, and turned to the man who was watching this fight for thest minute. Andrew Pierce, Tristan Gemello''s boss, was standing several meters away. Now he pped his hands thrice, walking up to the beaten up men. "These were very impressive fighting moves, mister. And few people can act so brazenly when staring into the muzzle of a gun." Tristan blinked, befuddled. Why was Pierce acting so weirdly? Wasn''t he just an ordinary paper-pusher manager? He didn''t seem to recognize Tristan Hayes as Tristan Gemello, at least. Pierce stepped onto the broken wrist of the man that almost shot Tristan. The man howled in pain, and that howl grew even louder when Pierce pressed down tighter. There was a sadistic smile on Pierce''s face now, one that turned everything (there wasn''t much) Tristan knew about him upside-down. "Many people are afraid to even shoot a gun, especially when they know they might kill someone. They might enjoy fighting, but killing people? That''s very different. For them, at least." Atst, Pierce stepped away from the tormented man. The creepy smile remained. "That''s¡­ What are you talking about?" Tristan finally asked. "Who ARE you?" Pierce turned toward Tristan. "Right. I apologize¡ªI got carried away. I''m always on the lookout for people of your talents. And you¡ªI think I heard about you. So if you are interested in a well-paying job fitting your skills,e to this ce." With these words, Pierce pulled out a business card of the Good Lion Bar, wrote something on the other side, and offered it to Tristan. He epted it, hiding his shock. ''That dingy ce¡­ Was it always a front for some crime operation? Hell, I should''ve thought about this. It exins the amount of money andck of taste in people whoe there! Nothing exins Pierce''s personality, though.'' "I will think about it," Tristan said, eying Pierce suspiciously. He looked like a boring paper-pusher again. No hint of that sadistic smile. "Please, do. I''m sure you like beating up people just as much as I do." Pierce nodded in goodbye and walked past Tristan¡ªjust another man walking home after work. He probably lived nearby, too close to bother driving a car. Tristan went back home too, not changing identities back again and hiding the trophy gun in his bundled-up jacket. This could''ve been the opportunity Tristan wanted! Or an borate trap. Despite trying to attract the attention of big gangs, now Tristan was wary of it. ''I need to find more about the Good Lion Bar and Pierce!'' Chapter 18: The second face of the Good Lion Bar After returning home, Tristan pulled out the business card Pierce gave him. It was just a business card of the bar, but on the other side Pierce wrote: [Come to the bar from 2 to 4 AM, workdays. Ask Andrew Pierce.] ''So specific. Just like that paper-pusher¡­ But how could I miss something like a crime organization under my nose? Status!'' Since his 160 points in observation skill weren''t enough to recognize the ce he was working in as a criminal den, or notice the gun in that man''s hand, Tristan put more. He put 500 CP into that skill. [Ding!] [Observation skill increased from 160 to 660.] The world sharpened around Tristan again. The smallest details of his surroundings got even more meaning than before¡ªalthough in his own home, there wasn''t much to observe. But the background of quiet sounds from outside became more than just white noise. From the rumbling of cars on the street below, Tristan could distinguish their exact amount, and from the sounds from the inside the house, he could almost imagine the movement of people in the nearby apartments. His sight and hearing didn''t improve, but his ability to notice and distinguish these details skyrocketed again. At this point, it was above even the level of a professional sleuth! Then, after a moment of hesitation, he put his remaining 371 Pop-star Points into the acting skill. Tristan felt like he might need it with what he had found recently. [Ding!] [Acting skill increased from 21 to 392.] Next evening, Tristan Gemello went to y piano in the Good Lion Bar. As usual. However, this time, he was more open to noticing anything than ever. When he walked past the bar patrons toward the piano, Tristan noticed how the weight of their hidden weapons shifted their clothes almost imperceptibly. When Tristan yed music for these people, he examined their faces more closely than before. Many men had scars that could''ve been from fights. Others had small scars on their knuckles, especially. However, there was no outright illegal business going on at that time of the day. The opposite¨Cpeople ate, drank, and created no trouble at all. Tristan pressed a key on the piano sharper than intended, when he realized how strange that was. No trouble whatsoever in a bar? Not on that evening, and not in the past week. Everybody was extremely mindful of their drinks, and didn''t start a single fight. And today Tristan noticed a slight fear in people''s eyes whenever a possibility of bing too drunk and creating trouble was mentioned. ''They must be afraid of the person in charge here. Afraid of Pierce? He''s creepy, but is he that scary?'' Tristan didn''t see the man this evening at all, but that wasn''t unusual. If he was in ce at all, he rarely went out of his office. After his shift ended, Tristan went home as usual, but two blocks away from the bar, entered an alleyway and switched identities. He even brought spare clothes with him in a backpack today, just so he could dress differently. Now, as Tristan Hayes, he went back to the bar. Since it was prettyte, there weren''t many people on the street, and there was no way to avoid suspicious stares. Tristan red back, daring any troublemaker to jump him. Like that, he walked down the streets that surrounded the Good Lion Bar, observing. He noticed subtle graffiti marks on some storefronts and other buildings, which repeated. They were definitely gang marks. The subtle influence of a powerful gang was felt in the surroundings, too. Soon, Tristan noticed he was being tailed. His pursuer did a good job of hiding whenever Tristan nced backward, but Tristan noticed his shadow and his footsteps. This confirmed Tristan''s guess. A small gang couldn''t control a territory thisrge¡ªTristan only saw a part of it. The Good Lion Bar''s existence, and the wealth of its patrons, meant that its owner had money. Theck of outward criminal activity there just meant it was well-hidden. And there was a good level of organization involved. Instead of jumping an intruder blindly, the local gang tailed a suspicious intruder, gathering information on him. It was just what Tristan needed. After this, Tristan went home, making several sharp and sudden turns to shake off his tail on the way there. *** Next day. The official working hours of the bar started at 5 AM. The door had a "CLOSED" te hanging on top of it. Tristan pushed it, and the door opened. There were six people sitting at tables inside, and at Tristan''s entrance, they all turned to Tristan like rmed wolves. All of them had hands reaching for hidden weapons. While at night a regr bar, during the day this ce was a real crime den! This only made Tristan stand straight and walk inside with more assurance. He will work alongside these people in the future, and he couldn''t show weakness. But thanks to his great acting skill, holding his face fixed in an expression of utter calm was easy. "I was invited by Mr. Pierce. Is he here?" Most gangsters rxed slightly. Then, a waiter hurriedly walked up from the kitchen. It wasn''t anyone Tristan remembered from his evening shifts. "I will tell him about you," the waiter promised. A minuteter, Tristan was ushered into an already familiar office. Pierce was sitting inside. At the sight of Tristan, he tilted his head slightly. "Greetings, Mr¡­" "Hayes. Tristan Hayes." Tristan was calm about using his real name. Hayes was a prettymon surname, and Tristan was a prettymon name. It was hard to make a connection to Tristan''s past or other identity now that his face wasn''t made from minced meat. And if Pierce made a connection, Tristan didn''t care, anyway. As long as it wasn''t with his other identity. "I''m d you came here so quickly, Mr. Hayes. This shows that you are either determined, or desperate¡ªand both types of people are very driven. Those are good qualities in a worker, especially in our line of work." "And what is this work, Mr. Pierce?" Chapter 19: A mission "Just a guard position on some of the organization''s properties, Mr. Hayes. Including here, at the Good Lion Bar. You will be guarding your precious cousin, too." Tristan frowned. He wasn''t shocked that Pierce knew about his "cousin", or that he brought Gemello up as leverage over Hayes. Which was already getting confusing. But the reason for Tristan''s frown was different. "A guard position, really? Mr. Pierce, do you think a person like me will be satisfied just standing around for hours on end? If I wanted to guard some useless shit for pennies, I''d find myself a ce to work at already. I thought you were going to offer something more interesting." Tristan leaned back, projecting self-assurance. As long as he acted like he was a professional worth bending for, people would bend for him. And Pierce bent, too. Once again, he was impressed by Tristan''s self-assurance. Although he was rtively young, Tristan Hayes acted like he spent a decade living the life of a gangster! In Pierce''s eyes, this could mean only incredible natural talent for this life. Eventually, a person like Tristan Hayes was bound to end up in one gang or another, and Pierce loathed to let him join anyone else''s organization. "Alright, Mr. Hayes. I have a job position that puts more risk and responsibility on you, while giving more freedom. Something more like contract work, I could say. You will be given various tasks which might require you to threaten, kill, or capture someone. You will be paid per task, with a monthly stipend on top of it. And you will be an official member of our organization." Tristan leaned forward in interest. ''This is much better. I will still be just a goon, but a more high-ranked one. And from there, I will know whom I should deal with to get higher in the ranks.'' "You still didn''t tell me what this organization is, Mr. Pierce." "One should only know it if you are our ally, or our enemy. Discretion is very important in our business." Tristan smirked. "I expected nothing less. Well, I agree to your offer. Will you tell me now?" "The organization is named ''King Lion Gang''." Pierce fixed his sses. "The name was chosen by its boss, Mr. Leon von. As is the name of this bar. I am his right-hand man and adviser over many matters, and for you, my authority is second only to Mr. von himself." Tristan suppressed an urge to chuckle. That Leon really must''ve loved himself and his name! Even Pierce looked annoyed by it. "This is what you need to know for now, Mr. Hayes. Before you will be officially taken on the position, I need a confirmation of your trustworthiness. You must fulfill a trial task." Pierce turned to theputer standing at the side of his table and quickly tapped on the keys. After a few minutes, a printer in the room''s corner whirred to life, printing several sheets, which Pierce passed to Tristan. On them was a dossier on a person named Jack Fulone¨Can unfamiliar man of his age. The photo on the dossier looked like it was taken while he was walking down the street. "To avoid unnecessary risks, memorize the information here and burn the paper. Your first task is simple¡ªkill that man. His location is already established, and he''s not someone withbat experience." Tristan kept reading the dossier. From it, Jack was just an ordinary college student. There was nothing written that should''ve made him a target for a gang. Tristan raised his eyes at Pierce. Pierce stared back. Although Pierce''s face was expressionless, Tristan''s incredible observation skill let him notice the smallest twitches around Pierce''s eyes. Tristan understood. ''This is a test. He wants me to be loyal without questions. So be it!'' "Very well, Mr. Pierce. Do I need to bring you any proof? An ear, or something more vital?" Pierce smiled in that creepy way of his. "This isn''t necessary, but I would be grateful." Tristan cringed inwardly, but stood up and waved his hand nonchntly, like he was taking trophies from corpses every day. "I will see how it will go, Mr. Pierce." *** Same time, different ce. Mark kneeled in front of the powerful man in front of him. The movement made his not fully healed injuries re with pain, but he bit his lip and endured. Ever since Tristan, that ungrateful bastard, beaten him and cut up the love of his life, Mark endured, fueled only by his desire for revenge. He was the only one left. Ricky, the coward, fled the city first. Evelyn left too, as soon as she healed a little. No amount of pleading from Mark helped to soothe her fears. Tristan terrified her too much to stay with Mark. And Mark couldn''t leave¡ªnot until he took revenge for the pain Tristan put them both through. It didn''t matter how much he had to kneel and plead to get his revenge. Mark said in broken Spanish. His mother was long in the grave, but he was now forever grateful to her for teaching her thenguage of her homnd of Mexico, even if his name was American. Suddenly, a hand reached for Mark''s shoulder, lifting him up. Chapter 20: A murder Next day. [Ding!] [Sneaking skill increased from 20 to 620.] [Ding!] [Pickpocketing skill increased from 30 to 530.] Tristan had 950 Criminal Points left after improving his skills. He left them be. *** Three dayster. Afternoon. After three days of preparation, gathering information and stalking his target, Tristan was finally ready. Somewhat ready, at least. Murder was serious business. And a very cunning choice of mission from Pierce. Now he stood near his prepared ce of crime and waited for him to appear, enjoying the pleasant weather and musing about the mission. ''If I don''t do this extremely carefully, I will get incriminated in murder. That''s much worse than some drunk driving. Pierce will have ckmail on me, in case I betray his gang. While I can''t even me him in court¡ªmy only evidence is some printed notes, which anyone could get. Hell, I bet that even if I recorded our conversation, he''de up with a way to avoid prosecution.'' The ce was private, but not the kind that would scare a person. Just a quiet stone embankment of a small river running through the city, with a row of garages on the other side. A few cars were parked to the side, but there were no people nearby yet. Tristan himself hid in a slightly shadowed alcove between two garages. Tristan''s improved stealth skill let him intuitively arrange his body in a way that blended with his surroundings. He stood there, almost motionless, and became almost invisible in broad daylight. Even if someone took a photo of the ce now, they''d have a hard time noticing Tristan on it. Although everything looked very casual right now, it took Tristan a lot of effort to reach this point. His sneaking and observation skills have improved slightly, but he still spent a lot of time just watching his target move or browsing his social pages and social pages of his acquaintances. That, and reading articles about real and fictional murders, so he knew how to make one himself properly. Having to sleep only 4 hours a day really helped Tristan fit the new "kill some guy" task into his schedule. He still had to work as Gemello, after all. Then Tristan had to steal the phone of a girl the target liked so he could write fake messages from her name, inviting the target here. She doubtlessly already noticed that it was missing, but since everything happened only this morning, Tristan hoped that the news won''t reach the target yet. He had to finish this quickly so he could go to work his shift in the bar. Finally, five minutes before the specified time, the target entered Tristan''s field of view. He was walking slowly, looking around and clearly searching for his girl. Or danger, perhaps. From his position, Tristan couldn''t see more, but he knew that close to the target was going to be his constantpanion¡ªanother stalker! This person was someone Tristan noticed three days ago, and had been trying to avoid since then. A stalker who was clearly sent by Pierce¡ªwho else could''ve done that? Now Tristan''s goal was to hide from him as well, and the ce he chose for an ambush was perfect for it. The approaches to it were very open, so the stalker would have to stay at a distance¡ªwhile inside were plenty of nooks between the garages where someone could hide. The target stopped on the embankment, then pulled out his phone and looked at it. He began tapping on the phone, ignorant of what was happening behind his back. Silent like a shadow, Tristan walked behind the target and took him into a chokehold. In one movement, he blocked the young man''s ability to speak and breathe. Next, Tristan wrangled his arms, preventing him from struggling, and gave the target just enough air to not suffocate before it was toote. The target could only silently gasp in shock and shake in fear. "Shh," Tristan whispered. "I''m your friend¡ªbut someone else here isn''t. Come along before that someone puts extra holes in your skin." He pushed the shaking target toward a nook between garages. Thankfully, he didn''t struggle, only stumbled from time to time. They got there before the target''s stalker could see them, which made Tristan let out a small huff of relief. "Now, be very quiet. Someone wants to kill you, Jack Fulone. Do you have any idea why?" Tristan let the target have a bit more air. "I, ah, I don''t know! R-really, please¡ª!" Tristan''s sensitive ears noticed every tremble in the target''s voice. He was afraid, and he was lying. "I can''t save you from them if you don''t tell me the truth," Tristan hissed, turning the man and pressing him into the wall so he could look into his eyes. [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 100!] [Ding!] [You have terrified 1 person. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] "Th-that''s not a lie! I didn''t do anything! I kept quiet, I didn''t report them, I didn''t say anything!" "So you''ve seen something illegal? What was it?" "What?! I can''t tell you. Who¡­ Who are you, anyway? What have you done to Gloria?" It looked like the shock wore off, and the target was regaining at least a part of his critical thinking. Tristan scowled. It looked like the things this man saw would forever remain a mystery, because Tristan didn''t have the time for proper interrogation. He quietly pulled a knife from his pocket. An ordinary kitchen knife¡ªEvelyn''s knife was too good for this. With surgical precision, Tristan slid the knife through the target''s T-shirt and right into his madly beating heart. Chapter 21: A hunter gets hunted The man barely had time to gasp before he was dead already. His body ckened and slid to the ground when Tristan let it go. He pulled out his bloodied knife and stealthily walked around the garages back to the riverbank, where he threw both the knife and the stolen phone into the water. With his clothes clean, but hands metaphorically bloodied, Tristan walked home, feeling surprisingly good. He still had the time to change clothing and prepare to work as Tristan Gemello. After a murder, Tristan couldn''t rx, and was still on high alert as he returned to his apartment. It was near this ce that he noticed a Mexican man smoking a cigarette and observing his apartment building¡ªand Tristan himself. It could''ve been just a coincidence, but Tristan noticed that the man''s gaze was too observant for this. Tristan checked the time and frowned. He was cutting it short to being on the shift in the bar. But he couldn''t risk this. Instead of going straight home, Tristan entered a small grocery store on the street and subtly watched the Mexican man from the corner of his eye while pretending to pick items from shelves. The store window let him see just enough. The Mexican man was definitely looking at Tristan too closely. He was subtle about it, but Tristan''s skills were too high to miss it. ''Who is this? I don''t remember any Mexicans in the Good Lion Bar. Is this someone working for Pierce, or someone else?'' This was all unnned and irritating. Tristan hated beingte, dammit! He had to deal with this, and quickly. With a freshly bought can of soda in hand, Tristan walked out of the store and then away from his apartment. After a while, the Mexican man walked after him. This worsened Tristan''s mood more. He walked farther, drinking his soda and keeping a look around for more tails. But that Mexican man was alone, and it was going to be his undoing. Tristan could already tell he wasn''t that good. Could''ve passed with the old Tristan¡ªthe Tristan with scars, Tristan from the streets¡ªbut not with the new one. A couple of streetster, Tristan made a turn at a street that looked like it could lead somewhere, but was actually a dead end. He threw the can out to the ground and waited. When his stalker made a turn, Tristan''s palm chopped him into Adam''s apple. The Mexican man''s eyes bulged, and he coughed. His mouth opened in a silent gasp. However, with instincts of a hardened thug, the man was already reaching for a gun Tristan noticed in his pocket. Faster than a snake, Tristan reached it and jabbed the muzzle in the Mexican man''s stomach. With his free hand, Tristan grabbed him by the arms and walked them both deeper into the dead-end. There, Tristan turned him around and pressed him into the wall with an elbow on his throat. "Why are you following me?" Tristan hissed. the thug rasped back in Spanish. Tristan jabbed the gun into his stomach harder. Then, with a vicious smirk, he began lowering it. "Say it in a way I can understand, or I will shoot off your balls and stick that gun up your ass." The thug paled slightly. "I won''t tell! We have loyalty, bastard! Shoot me if you want!" From the corner of his eye, Tristan saw a passerby move to the other side of the street and walk faster. Typical for this neighborhood. His apartment was cheap for a reason. Tristan snarled at the thug and pressed the trigger, at the same time pressing his elbow harder into the thug''s throat. He tried to stand in a way that let him avoid blood. Even muffled by the thug''s flesh, it was still loud. Tristan winced, while the thug opened his mouth in a silent scream. His voice and breathing were blocked by Tristan''s elbow, but soon Tristan moved away and let the thug fall to his knees. The bullet went through the inner side of his thigh¡ªclose, but not quite through the balls. Only because Tristan missed. When the thug lowered his head, Tristan noticed a small tattoo of a square with only its angles drawn. A gang mark! Tristan didn''t know which gang exactly, but he knew there were a few Mexican groups around the city, smuggling to and from Mexico. [Ding!] [Observation skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Close-quartersbat skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [You gained a new skill¡ªfirearms shooting. Reward: 100 CP!] When Tristan let him breathe, the thug clutched his wound, gasping for breath and trying to get away from Tristan. "I won''t miss next time," Tristan said, pointing a gun at the man. "You are gonna die anyway¡­ My brothers will kill you! There''s a hit on your head!" Although he was trying to appear courageous, the thug was visibly shaking, both from fear and the loss of blood. "Why the hell Mexicans are after me?" The thug didn''t respond beyond cursing in Spanish. Tristan wanted to kick him, but there was already some blood on his clothes. Not much, but it was going to be a pain to wash. He hid the new trophy gun in his pocket and resigned himself to spitting in the thug''s direction. This man was a hardened gangster. He really had too much loyalty to break quickly, but knowing his gang mark, Tristan could just ask around. He turned and walked away in a hurry, leaving the wounded thug behind. Tristan didn''t care if he would end up dead or alive¡ªthe amount of information it would give his enemies will stay the same. He checked the time and cursed again. Tristan was gettingte for his work shift! Chapter 22: Perform at 200% or else! Tristan Gemello was walking up to the Good Lion Bar half an hourte, but dressed in a clean suit, which he bought specifically for the job after getting his first sry. He hoped histeness would be forgiven for once. However, just when he was approaching the bar''s doors, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. By this point, Tristan had bought himself a second phone for his Pop-star identity, and when Tristan pulled it out, he saw the bar''s administrator''s name on screen. Instead of replying, Tristan hurried through the personnel''s entrance into the bar and walked toward the main bar''s hall, from where the administrator was calling. He immediately noticed an unusual activity in the bar as the waiters were cleaning the tables with twice the effort. A table in the center of the bar had been covered with a tablecloth, and four tes were already put there, together with plenty of cutlery. The waiters made the table look like it was from a fancy restaurant, not from a bar! At his approach, the administrator¡ªwho also often worked as a barman¡ªalmost jumped with anger and relief and mmed the phone receiver down. "Gemello! For hell''s sake, where were you? Did you HAVE to pick today specifically to bete?" From the look on the administrator''s face, he was about to pull his hair off before Tristan appeared. "My apologies¡ª" "Forget it! Mr. Pierce said that there are going to be extremely important guests arriving in¡­ fifteen minutes now. Get into his office before he skinned us both alive so he could exin to you what to do!" Tristan obeyed themand, wondering to himself if the threat of skinning was metaphorical or literal, considering who Pierce actually was. Inside the Pierce''s office, Tristan was immediately pinned down with a dagger-sharp re. "Finally! Being a young talent gives you no excuse to be tardy, Mr. Gemello," Pierce hissed. "If this conduct repeats itself, you can forget about your week''s sry, you understand?" Tristan had never seen Pierce so livid. He bowed his head in submission, although his spine stayed ramrod straight in quiet defiance, and no fear showed on his features. "Yes, Mr. Pierce." "Because of a sudden change of ns, today the owner of this bar, Mr. Leon von, will hold a meeting with an important business partner of his." Pierce grit his teeth. The shift in schedule gave him a lot of headache. "We must make sure that neither of them is at all disappointed. And what''s important, Mr. von''s guest is a big lover of music and owns his own talent agency. Gemello, you must y your best today. Maybe our normal visitors can''t tell the difference between good and bad music, but this man is different, and it''s vital that he''s pleased. Vital." The way Pierce said thest word made Tristan sure that if he failed, his body would be found in some ditch tomorrow, without skin. ''Fuck¡­ I didn''t even get my reward and gang eptance from doing the assassination mission, and now I have to perform at my 200%? No break whatsoever. However, if that person owns a talent agency, it can be an opportunity. If the agency is any good. What kind of talent agency owner has deals with gangsters?'' It was dejecting, but at the same time, Tristan''s fingers twitched with excitement at the challenge. He looked Pierce in the eye. "I don''t care if this guest is an expert, I won''t make him leave disappointed, Mr. Pierce. But I hope I will get a bonus for this." Pierce scoffed. "Bonus? You werete today! I only close my eyes on this because I need you out there, ying. But fine, fine. Impress the guests, and I will give you one thousand dors. Fail, and¡­" Pierce fell silent, but the meaning was pretty clear. At best, Tristan will be fired. At worst, he will be fired at. Tristan nodded again, and with Pierce''s silent permission, left the office. He went straight to the piano, sat on the stool, and opened his status. [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Opened The Door.] [Criminal rank: Nobody.] [Pop-star Points: 430] [Criminal Points: 950] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 34] [Charisma: 31] [Fearsomeness: 28] [Strength: 19] [Dexterity: 24] [Toughness: 42] [===Skills===] [Singing: 179] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 164] [Music theory: 21] [Music production: 8] [Acting: 392] [Songwriting: 14] [Voice control: 53] [Stage presence: 137] [ying piano: 246] [Video editing: 201] [Sneaking: 628] [Close-quartersbat: 457] [Observation: 673] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 530] [Firearms shooting: 1] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Partially Sleepless] [======] His stats for main musical skills were much lower than for his criminal skills. Tristan had nned to change that after getting PP for advancing in the gang¡ªthat would definitely improve his rank and give him a reward. However, now he didn''t have time. ''Should I put more points into the piano skill?'' he thought. After a moment of thought, Tristan put 100 points into it. 346 total skill points should be good enough. He didn''t have the time to hesitate more or spend the rest of the points. The doors leading into the bar opened, and four people walked inside. Two men, each of them with a pretty and young woman on their arm. In front walked a tall, broad-shouldered and muscr man. His blond, curled hair fell to his shoulders like a mane. He was dressed in a sand-yellow suit, and walked like the king of the world. Next to him, his girlfriend looked like a tiny canary. Leon von. Truly, a man who liked his name so much, and who was called Leon, could look no different. Except, Tristan immediately noticed that his luxurious hair was a high-quality wig. With his build, the man had to be on steroids and bald. And behind Leon was hisplete opposite¡ªa short, plump, balding man with a sheen of sweat on his forehead. The young woman who walked arm in arm with him was way out of his league. Pierce himself walked out to meet them. "Wee, Mr. von, Mr. Garstean. The table had been prepared for you. Please, enjoy your dinner¡ªand would you like to have some live music?" Chapter 23: Meeting the boss for the first time "Oh, you have a pianist working in your establishment? How old-school, Mr. von." The plump man, Garstean, let out a friendlyughter. He looked at Tristan, who was seated with his side turned toward the entrance. From there, Tristan could see the condescension in Garstean''s eyes clear as day. "Well, let him y what he knows for now while we have our appetizers. I have to say, I''m impressed that you brought me here¡­ it''s a mark of pride for the owner to not be ashamed to eat in his own ce." Leon raised his chin. "I''m ashamed of nothing, Mr. Garstean. You will see." Following Garstean''s cue, Tristan began ying one of the melodies he memorized for the bar. It was one of the many ssic jazzy tunes in his repertoire by now, and Tristan could perform it with his eyes closed after all the repetitions, especially with the boost in skill he got recently. As he yed, Tristan watched the movement in the bar with a corner of his eye. The guests and their girls sat at the table, and were almost immediately brought the appetizers. Clearly, Pierce arranged them to be prepared beforehand. The appetizers also weren''t from the usual bar menu, although Tristan wasn''t sure if the cook was told to make something new, or if they were brought from elsewhere. "Hm, this isn''t so bad," Garstean said, between munching on his sd. "Your pianist, I mean. Did he fail to find any work after finishing music school, despite having some skill? No wonder, no wonder. In the modern music industry, boys like him should y bass, or guitar, or sing. He has a face of a born guitarist." Leon looked up at Pierce, who was waiting at them at the side. At the silent question, Pierce approached. Next to Leon, Pierce acted not like a sadist or a boss, but like any paper-pushing middle manager. His face and voice were dry, but respectful when he spoke. "Mr. Gemello is actually self-taught. However, the audience of this bar likes him." Leon nodded. "That''s right. You always had a good eye for recruits, Pierce." Piece nodded and stepped back from the table again. "Self-taught? Well, this exins why no one told him to study a different instrument," Garstean said, shaking his head. The conversation between Leon, Garstean and their girls continued after that. Besides Garstean''sments, the guests were happy with the service so far. Over the conversation of mundane things like food, Super Bowl and such, the dinner reached the dessert. Wine was poured for both guests, and that''s when the conversation became interesting again. "My talent agency is on the rise, Mr. von, and dealing with us will be extremely beneficial. The return on investments will be incredible," Garstean boasted. "In fact, you can see how good my agency is right now. Just look at Ms. Faegal!" He gestured at his girlfriend. The gorgeous young woman in a red cocktail dress, she looked like she stepped out of pages of a fashion magazine. Now she smiled charmingly at Leon. "Mr. Garstean is right. An agency on the rise needs its rising stars, and I''m such a star." Sheughed melodically, turning the arrogant statement into a charming joke. "Otherwise, I wouldn''t be here, with Mr. Garstean." "Perhaps, Faegal should perform here, so you could see for yourself how good our agency stars are. She sings, and your pianist could provide an apaniment." Leon nodded. "What an excellent idea. That''s right, nothing shows better than practice. My musical taste will be good enough to decide if your agency is worth your boasting, Mr. Garstean. Pianist!" Tristan finished his current melody with a sharp chord and walked over to the guests'' table. "What song Ms. Faegal is going to perform?" Leon asked Garstean. Garstean turned to Tristan. "There are plenty of famous songs Faegal can sing. Perhaps someone should print you note sheets for one of them?" "This could be arranged easily, Mr. Garstean," Pierce said, appearing nearby suddenly. "Myst hit isn''t arranged for piano¡­ So I can sing a cover of someone else''s song instead," Faegal said. She tilted her head at Tristan and smiled. "If that''s not a problem, of course." She was definitely being condescending. Tristan hid his annoyance and nodded. As long as he somewhat remembered the melody and had a note sheet, it was going to be easy. Pierce stepped back. "I will bring the note sheets. Which song will you perform?" Faegal named a famous song, and Tristan nodded, recognizing it. Garstean nodded too and turned to Faegal, while Leon stayed focused on Tristan with a sharp look of a gangster boss. Leon tilted his head sharply,manding Tristan to move aside. When they did, Leon leaned toward Tristan and whispered, "Listen¡­ I don''t care how, but if you can make that woman''s performance look worse than it actually is, I will give you five thousand dors. BUT if you make anyone suspicious, or if you make me look like a fool, I will have your head." Leon marched back to his table without another word. Tristan, after standing in quiet shock for a moment, went back to the piano. $5000... An enormous sum for a single evening of work. But the task wasn''t easy, either. ''This much cash¡­ Could it be that Leon tries to humble Garstean to make a better deal with him? Deals like these could cost hundreds of thousands of dors and more. For Leon, $5000 is probably pocket change¡­ Damn, I miss being rich!'' Tristan wanted to be that rich again, even richer. Wanted that power of dirty money Leon wielded. But $5000 would be a good start. And for that, to shame thedy singer, the best way he could think up so quickly was¡­ Perform his own part so well, that it wouldpletely overshadow Faegal''s! Tristan cracked his fingers, then opened his status window and subtly tapped on some buttons. [Ding!] [ying piano skill increased from 346 to 676.] He smiled when Faegal stood next to the piano. A short whileter, Pierce brought printed note sheets. "You can begin!" Chapter 24: How to earn $5000 in one evening The song chosen for performance was a famous song by a legendary female singer. It was slow, lyrical, romantic and somewhat bittersweet. The way original singer sang it could put tears into people''s eyes, and it was hard to match the skill and soul she put in her voice. The background of the original song was mostly a piano melody, which Tristan now yed. It was just as sorrowful as the song itself. Tristan''s fingers danced over the piano keys in the unhurried rhythm of the melody. His technique was textbook perfect¡ªperfectly average, not a note out of tune. Soon, Faegal began to sing the first, quiet part of the song. Like the song, she began slowly, closing her eyes and putting on a solemn expression¡ªalthough it didn''t dash her self-possessed aura. Both performers were stretching their musical limbs, but besides that, Tristan was also watching Faegal''s skills and waiting for the opportunity. There was a most powerful, the most quotable part of the song, and if there was a ce to make Faegal stumble, it was there. But first, Tristan had to find what her weaknesses were. That''s why he didn''t put his all into ying the melody¡ªhe had to focus on listening to Faegal. Their audience listened, too¡ªboth the important guests and the usual patrons of the bar. All of them looked entirely enchanted by the beautiful singer, not paying any attention to the pianist in the background. Fifty seconds of the song have passed, and there were only twenty more left until the vital moment. However, Faegal''s singing was really impable on the technical level. Not a note was off-pitch or out of ce. Tristan felt anxious for his $5000¡ªand for Leon''s favor. Would he be punished for just doing nothing? Faegal adjusted her expression, looking ahead proudly. She was pushing into the pride of the lyrics, forgetting the sorrowful emotions that were also within the original song. And that''s when Tristan knew what to do. Tristan put all his attention on the piano. The keys became the continuation of his face, where he put emotions for everybody to see¡ªthe emotions he wanted others to feel. He put forward sorrow, contradicting the emotion Faegal projected with that of his piano melody. Tristan remembered the sorrow he felt as he was lying in a hospital room, abandoned and discarded. The sorrow of being alone on the streets, scaring people with his face. It seeped into his music like sweet poison, affecting everybody who heard it¡ªeven Faegal herself. As she was pulling the longest note, her voice wobbled slightly. The proud expression she wore cracked as she nced at Tristan. Even a good actress like her could barely hide her shock at the sudden rise in skin and emotion of his ying. She never imagined Tristan would y so well and was utterly unprepared! And neither did Faegal see through Tristan''s scheme, only believing him honestly doing his best. Tristan only kept ying, now forgetting all about Faegal at all. His being was music and memory. Leon''s girlfriend subtly wiped the tears from her eyes with a napkin and leaned closer on Leon''s thick arm. She was looking only at Tristan, but seeing someone from her past. Other patrons, many of which were gangsters, were too tough to cry like girls¡ªbut they were affected by the melody just as much. No more bedazzled by Faegal''s beautiful face and figure, they looked only at Tristan, feeling proud for his skills on the behalf of the boss who hired him. Leon''s face was an unreadable stone mask, but next to him, Garstean looked like he was pped in the face. Soon he put himself together and only continued to throw res at Faegal as time went on. After her song was overtaken by Tristan, Faegal quickly tried to adjust and match his mood, but she failed to put the sorrow in her voice to the nearly same degree. In the end, she could only sing the song without its soul, letting Tristan carry it to the end. Finally, Tristan''s fingers let go of the keys and justid t on the keyboard. Apuse hit him together with the sound of notifications. [Ding!] [ying piano skill increased by 3. Reward: your CP increased by 30.] [Ding!] [Stage presence skill increased by 2. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 11 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 50.] [Ding!] [Charisma attribute increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 100!] charisma Leon pped a couple times too, then turned to Garstean. "This was worse than I expected¡­ My pianist yed perfectly well, but Ms. Faegal¡­ she was off with her performance, wasn''t she? I could tell." "Off? Mr. von, you are imagining things!" However, under Leon''s threatening gaze, Garstean''s shoulders quickly lowered. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a napkin. "Well, perhaps¡­ Perhaps it seemed this way because of the acoustics?" Leon let Garstean sweat for several seconds longer. No one dared to interrupt their conversation, not even Faegal, who returned to the table, quiet like a mouse. "Perhaps it was acoustics," Leon finally said. "But I would be very careful with the deals you offer, Mr. Garstean. Speaking of, we should move to my office and discuss them more privately." When Leon and Garstean went into the inner parts of the bar, Tristan finally rxed himself. Just a bit¡­ "What did Mr. von talk with you about?" Tristan barely noticed Pierce''s approach. He was quiet like death itself. It was a matter of pride to not jolt or show his wariness. "I''m unsure if I can tell you, Mr. Pierce." Pierce huffed. "Very well. Then don''t sit here idly¡ªthis is still your work shift. The patronse here for music just as much as for the drinks. So y!" Tristan rolled his eyes when Pierce couldn''t see, but obeyed. He couldn''t wait for his shift to be over. *** Several hourster. "Your reward. As promised." Chapter 25: Becoming a Rook Several hourster. "Your reward. As promised." Leon ced a wad of cash in Tristan''s hands. In a blink of an eye, Tristan stashed them in his deepest pocket, uttering his thanks. Tristan didn''t bother counting them, since that would''ve been a show of disrespect, and since he could tell with a nce that there was probably even more than $5000. But after giving Tristan the money, Leon didn''t just let him leave his office. Instead, he looked at Tristan curiously. "I know a thing or two about music. It was me who told Pierce to arrange the pianist for my bar. But all the pianists before were mediocre, while you seem to have actual talent. Talent, skill and cunning, to do what I asked of you so well. Why are you here?" "I just need the money, sir." "Hm. Well, there you have it. Stay ying in the bar, and perhaps you will have the opportunities to rise in the music industry," Leon said meaningfully. Tristan knew Leon wasn''t lying¡­ and that any deal he would offer will be a deal with the Devil. Gangsters will never leave Tristan Gemello alone afterward. Either way, he could only nod and thank Leon again, before finally being dismissed. The wad of cash had $6000. Tristan''s fingers already itched to spend it all. *** Next morning. ''There are too many Mexicans aroundtely, aren''t there?'' Tristan wondered, walking around the Good Lion Bar to enter it through the back entrance. He was wearing a cap that hid his hair and face somewhat, but he was still recognizable in his Hayes identity. However, he didn''t notice anyone watching him on his way there. The workers inside let him go straight to the waiting room near Pierce''s office. However, there Tristan had to wait an hour until Pierce actually appeared in the bar and let Tristan inside. "I''ve heard that the deed is done," Pierce said, sitting in his office chair. He fixed his sses and smiled. "Congrattions, Hayes. You didn''t dy for too long, and finished everything as well as a good assassin would." "Thank you, Mr. Pierce. So do I get the job now? The sry you promised?" "Of course. I can''t offer you a contract, but I can give you this." Pierce pulled a brass pin from his pocket. On the pin was engraved an borate design with L in it. "One who wields a badge like that serves the King Lion. Many people tattoo those on their skin, but it''s not a requirement. Tattoos can get tricky with the police." Tristan reached out for the badge. Although it was a small thing, when holding it in his hands, Tristan felt like it had the weight of someone''s concrete shoes. [Ding!] [Your Criminal rank has changed from Nobody to Rook! Reward: your PP increased by 2000!] Tristan grinned. Finally! And to make Tristan''s mood even better, Pierce put a neat stack of banknotes on the table, too. "And this is for your trial mission, and as advance of what you can get if you work hard for the King Lion." Tristan picked the money and quickly counted them. There was $1000¡­ Less than Leon gave him, but also good. After that, Pierce exined to Tristan what his work would entail. He was given a protected phone, which Pierce will use to contact him from now on. The sry was bigger than that of Tristan''s pianist job, but not by a huge amount. However, with two sries, Tristan could buy twice as much stuff¡ªespecially since before, most of his pianist sry went to the rent and living expenses. Man really needed two jobs just to live in today''s economy. "I have no tasks for you right now, but this might change at any moment. As a member of the King Lion Gang, you have to be avable at any moment. There are other rules as well¡ªthings you should and shouldn''t do." The list of these rules was pretty short, thankfully. No attacking other King Lion members, no crimes near ces paying protection money to the gang, and of course, no betraying the gang in anything. Traitors were worse than trash. In return, the gang protected its members. An attack on the gang''s members was equal to disrespecting the gang''s boss himself, and punishable appropriately. There were also other ways in which gangsters covered each other''s backs. It was all simr to the days Tristan spent with Mark''s small gang, except Mark was a street thug who wasn''t smart enough toe up with so many rules. After listening to and memorizing the lecture, Tristan finally could ask a question of his own. "Mr. Pierce, do you know a Mexican gang, members of which have tattoos like these?" To demonstrate, Tristan took a pen and a sticky square to draw the tattoo he saw. Pierce raised his eyebrows. "These are rather well known. They call themselves Cuatro Angulos¡ªFour Angles. Smugglers, dealers, thugs. Our organizations aren''t friends, but we aren''t outright enemies. Did you have some dealings with them, Hayes?" Tristan leaned forward. "I don''t know, Mr. Pierce, but yesterday one of them tried to stalk me, then said that there was a target ced on my head. I have beaten many people, and some of them looked Mexican, but I don''t think Cuatro Angulos cares about any random immigrant thugs so much." Pierce frowned deeply. "That''s an rming situation to be in. Now that the word will be out that you are one of us, Cuatro Angulos might think again about attacking you. Either way, I can''t leave something like that lie. I will find more about this, Hayes. In the meantime, while there''s no work for you, lie low. And if someone attacks you despite everything, just call, and help will be under way. King Lion doesn''t leave his subordinates on their own." Tristan smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Pierce." Now that he had Pop-star Points, he was nning to release his first original song, anyway! Chapter 26: Increasing Pop-star skills Next day. With the need to lie low, Tristan was stuck in his Gemello identity for a while. This meant he finally had time for a proper rest. Thest days were physically and mentally tiring, despite their sesses. Early in the morning Tristanid in bed and rxed by counting the cash in his hands. The bills from Leon were crisp and new. The bills were as real as Tristan could confirm, and smelled like paper and riches. ''I''m going to need better clothing, and rent a ce in a recording studioter, and maybe a new guitar that''s not made from shitty stic and crushed dreams of bad musicians? Or perhaps I can afford a car? A very, very, VERY cheap car, and I will have to buy a driving license in the system shop¡­ Yeah, no way.'' Tristan wrote a brief list, but after spending all his money at oncest time, he decided to be more careful and hold on to the cash he had now, at least for a while. Just in case. Instead, he looked at his status. [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Opened The Door.] [Criminal rank: Rook.] [Pop-star Points: 2000] [Criminal Points: 1150] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 34] [Charisma: 32] [Fearsomeness: 28] [Strength: 19] [Dexterity: 24] [Toughness: 42] [===Skills===] [Singing: 179] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 164] [Music theory: 21] [Music production: 8] [Acting: 392] [Songwriting: 14] [Voice control: 53] [Stage presence: 139] [ying piano: 679] [Video editing: 201] [Sneaking: 628] [Close-quartersbat: 457] [Observation: 673] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 530] [Firearms shooting: 1] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Partially Sleepless] [======] For thest week, Tristan did a lot of online research on current pop-music trends, music people liked, and so on. In the meantime, he was gathering ideas for his first single. However, his songwriting skill was really that of a beginner. Tristan smiled and tapped the status window several times, spreading the status points. [Ding!] [Songwriting skill increased from 14 to 514.] [Ding!] [Music production skill increased from 8 to 258.] [Ding!] [Music theory skill increased from 21 to 271.] [Ding!] [ying guitar skill increased from 164 to 664.] [Ding!] [Voice control skill increased from 33 to 283.] [Ding!] [Singing skill increased from 179 to 429.] In a blink of an eye, 2000 Pop-star Points turned into 0 points. But Tristan''s skills rose sky-high! The feeling was incredible. Now Tristan had skills and knowledge to put his vague ideas into music and song lyrics. And with it, Tristan was hit with a new inspiration to write a song. However, first he had to check something. He went to hisptop and opened the page of a music contest he discovered during his research. "Californian Young Star" contest was argepetition, with the final round pitting the performers from the entire state topete on a state TV channel. When Tristan lived with his family, they all looked at these contents with disdain, saying that they were made just for "feel good" stories of poor people rising to fame. Even winning a contest like this would not be a worthwhile p on their faces. But it was an actual pathway to fame. And of course, there was a cash prise of $15000 for the first spot! The rounds before that were held between contestants in a single city, and even before that was a preliminary round. There, contestants only had to send videos of their performances. And the time to send the contest applications was alreadying to a close. The songs for a contest had to be original ones¡ªnot necessarily made by the contestant, but made for the contest. The topic was up to the contestant. After confirming all this, Tristan took his guitar and sat down. His fingers fell on the strings. They moved in a rhythm not of any song Tristan had memorized, but in the rhythm of his inspiration. With his advanced skills, he didn''t have to painstakingly imagine every beat of music beforemitting it to melody. He was a master of the sound, able to hear the entireposition form in his mind while ying it on the guitar. Tristan was like a painter puts splotches of paint on the nk canvas that make no sense, until suddenly, he puts one more stroke and they be a forest scenery. He didn''t need to sketch anymore, he could just y and create music. Tristan''s melody started slow and mncholic. It was brought on by bitter memories of being alone on the streets¡­ And like in these memories, there was a slow, but strong beating through the melody, created by Tristan tapping his leg on the floor. That was Tristan''s pride, which made him run from home in the first ce. But soon, the melody changed, bing more energetic and positive. The tapping rhythm stayed the same, but the song became the song of glory and victories. It was the song of taking the arm the life pped you with and wrangling it until the life cried and pleaded for mercy! Tristan repeated a part of the melody for the future refrain verse of his song and ended it on a high note that promised even better things in the future. It rang in the quiet of his apartment for another second. Tristan smiled to himself. He could already tell that there were imperfections in the melody he made. It could be improved. He also had to actually write lyrics for it, and make it abstract enough to not give out Tristan''s personal information. For now, Tristan quickly went to hisptop and wrote down the notes of the raw melody. After that, he refined it, running between theptop and the guitar for several hours, asionally being interrupted by notifications. [Ding!] [Songwriting skill increased by 2. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [ying guitar skill increased by 2. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [Music theory skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 20.] But eventually Tristan looked at the time. "Shit! I can''t bete for work again! And I forgot to go to the gym today, too! And forgot to have lunch¡ªfuck, I''m so hungry¡­" Chapter 27: The first original song Two dayster. Tristan had the melody and the lyrics. He evenposed a piano track for the song, although he could only hear it through a synthesizer. Now he was walking inside the sound recording studio, preparing for the final trial of this¡ªrecording. The cover he recorded previously had a really shitty sound quality for a professional song. Even for an amateur song, it was barely there. Tristan needed better sound recording equipment, and it was easier to rent a block of time in a recording studio than buy these things. Not to mention, they won''t fit in his small apartment. For $400, Tristan rented a block of four hours. Also, thanks to lifting weights and doing stretches in the gym, his strength and dexterity attributes had grown yesterday, giving him 200 PP to spend, which he put into music production, increasing it to 508. The studio was worth the money¡ªTristan immediately saw that the recording gear was of the high quality. After a brief tour by the manager, Tristan was left alone to deal with all this. Four hours. Tristan hoped that for a three-minute-long song, it would be enough. The first twenty minutes were spent just setting everything up to Tristan''s liking. Not only Tristan had to perform guitar and song tracks, he had to deal with all the technical parts of the recording. This was hard enough that usually there would be a separate sound engineer sitting at the Digital Audio Workstation. But Tristan didn''t want to depend on strangers for this. The DAW looked like a spaceship control station, with endless iprehensible buttons, knobs, and screens. Just two years ago, Tristan only recognized half the markings on these buttons. However, now, thanks to his high music production skill, they were all clear as day to Tristan. He tweaked a few of the knobs, setting them in the position that felt right to his intuitive understanding, then went to the actual recording part of the studio. That was five more minutes. Then Tristan set up the microphones, checked the sound, and tweaked DAW''s settings some more. There was a tablet for remote control of the DAW, but it was still inconvenient, and Tristan often had to walk to and from the thing. This was eating more time. More than an hour had passed, and Tristan only began to record his guitar track. At least, the melody by now flew easily from his fingers. The first try was already great, but Tristan had to be no less than perfect. He knew that hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people would send their songs to the contest. He had to assume that hispetition was going to be even more prepared and ready to do and re-do their songs until perfection. Plus, Tristan nned to publish the song onler, since it wasn''t prohibited by the contest''s rules. Tristan re-recorded parts that felt like not quite enough, sometimes improvising new versions of them right on the go, and listening to them to check which was actually the better one. Even after an hour of work, he still felt like there were things to do with that guitar track. For example, record it on a better guitar! However, the time was ticking. Tristan had to record the lyrics. In front of the microphone, Tristan took in a deep breath. Although he knew he was going to cut that part from the recordingter, he still said it. "This song¡­ This song''s name¡­ ''Dragonfly''." A song about an ugly, sadrva that grew into a shining, powerful dragonfly. Originally, Tristan thought about a butterfly, but those were too gentle for his liking. During his research for the song, Tristan found that dragonflyrvae were ugly, but also just as powerful and deadly in water as dragonflies were in the air. But that fact interfered with the song lyrics, so Tristan ignored it. What mattered is the feeling. The song, the lyrics, they all echoed within Tristan. When he started the recording and began singing, with every word of every verse, Tristan''s soul poured into the song. It was not just because he was purposefully trying to, or because he loved singing, but because the song itself resonated with him on a deep level. "Dark and below, I am no more! Find the light, break the night! Take flight! I soar toward ss dreams, Dragonfly!" Tristan was shouting this line each time he sang it in the refrain verse. When he finished singing and stopped the recording, he was panting. Not just from exertion, but from pure excitement. Just listening to the recording again made a feeling swell in Tristan''s chest, which he couldn''t understand¡­ But it was certainly a feeling. There were some imperfections in the recorded sound. The emotion even made Tristan''s voice wobble at a few ces, although it was very slight. He decided to not change anything. This recording was perfect as it was. And thanks to that decision, Tristan had almost two hours to review the recorded tracks, mix and edit them. He used them to the fullest. After an hour, he had a rough mix of the sound¡ªalready great for an amateur. When his 4 hours were over, Tristan''s song was basically ready to be published. That was as productive as it got. And only then did Tristan bother to check his notifications. [ying guitar skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [ying guitar skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] ¡­ [Charisma attribute increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 100!] [Music production skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Music production skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] Tristan closed all notifications. ''Yeah, I will deal with thatter.'' Chapter 28: Getting jacked Later, when he sat on a bus and slowly drove through a congested highway, Tristan found that every skill he used to record his song improved by 1-3 points. His charisma also increased by a point, and all that gave him 210 new Criminal Points. Now he had 1420 Criminal Points waiting to be spent. The bus brought Tristan to the Good Lion Bar only ten minutes before his shift. Barely enough to not get dirty looks from the bar''s administrator. *** Next day. [Ding!] [Music production skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Video editing skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] Tristan got these notifications after spending half a day on editing the song record from yesterday. The result from yesterday was already good enough, so today Tristan only did the finishing touches. Heposed a contest application for the Californian Young Star contest, checked twice that everything was alright, and sent it. Tristan didn''t let himself hesitate or worry. But the application was only a half of it. After all, the contest''s rules didn''t forbid songs for contests being posted elsewhere, as long as this happened after the date when the contest began epting applications. Tristan found a free-to-use photo of a dragonfly online, edited a me effect over it in a video editor, and attached his song to the result. He posted the video on his YouTube channel¡ªhis second video there. [ Dragonfly | original single ] Tristan hoped this video will do better than the first one. That video, although it got 10k views at the start, didn''t get a lot of new views afterward. Now it was sitting at 15k views, but Tristan didn''t get any new CP from that. He wasn''t sure if only the first impression mattered for the Second Identity System, or if it was because most of the people just re-watched the video over and over. *** Next day. [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 23 thousand people online with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 4500!] [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 4 thousand people online with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 500!] Tristan had been washing dishes after lunch when he got the notifications. After that, he immediately went to check on his YouTube channel. 30k views, and 10k more views to his previous video! He also got several hundred subscribers. Tristan grinned, scrolling through the newments he got. [omg I loooove this! please dont stop posting!] [so intense. insects are metal now, I suppose] [I''m going to y this for actual dragonflies, willment with results] [this is so epic, I want an entire album from you please! I''d go to your concerts!] [this dragonfly is just fire lol] [will you make a music video? I love to see you sing, it was so cool on your other video!] Tristan paused to reply to thisment. [I''m nning to, just wait ;)] Short, sweet, a bit mischievous. Perfect for his Pop-star persona. He scrolled farther, then paused. [This is terrible. Idk why the algorithm decided to suggest this to me. Try better] Tristan smirked. If he was seeing haters like these, it meant he was really bing popr. Tristan gave thatment a dislike and moved on. After replying to a few otherments he particrly liked, Tristan went to his status window. He had 6430 Criminal Points to spend. ''System, open today''s shop.'' [======] [===Shop===] [Skill refund: 100 points] [Logistics skill: 10 Criminal Points.] [A driving license: 1000 points (tap to choose identity)] [A foreign bank deposit card: 3000 Criminal Points] [======] That was an interesting, but still useless, selection. Tristan sighed. He actually saw "Sleepless" talent a few days ago, but it cost 4000 points. Now that he could afford it, it was a lottery when it would appear in the shop again. He didn''t want to refund any of his skills, anyway. And having so many Criminal Points just stored and waiting was a waste of points. Tristan pondered about this for a moment, then opened the status window and reached for his attributes. Before, he didn''t spend anything on them because of their expensiveness. But now he had the points. [Ding!] [Strength attribute increased from 20 to 120.] [Ding!] [Dexterity attribute increased from 25 to 125.] [Ding!] [As a result of attribute changes, your appearance attribute increased by 20, and your fearsomeness attribute increased by 5.] The next moment, Tristan''s body was overwhelmed by a tingling sensation. Suddenly, his shirt and pants sat slightly tighter on his body. He hurriedly went to his bathroom mirror and looked at himself in various poses. Although Tristan never was entirely out of shape, even after a month of going to gym, his muscles weren''t really visible. However, now he had a 6-pack! At least, when Tristan tensed his muscles. He also felt like his movements were much more coordinated. He still had a healthy amount of fat over them, so Tristan''s muscles weren''t as defined as those of Hollywood stars. He knew that he''d need a carefully structured diet to achieve that level. Still, now Tristan looked like a person who went to a gym for years, and could probably lift 60 or even 80 kilograms without too much effort! He looked at his status, too. [======] [Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)] [Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.] [Pop-star rank: Opened The Door.] [Criminal rank: Rook.] [Pop-star Points: 0] [Criminal Points: 4430] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 54] [Charisma: 33] [Fearsomeness: 33] [Strength: 120] [Dexterity: 125] [Toughness: 42] [===Skills===] [Singing: 432] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 669] [Music theory: 274] [Music production: 511] [Acting: 392] [Songwriting: 517] [Voice control: 284] [Stage presence: 139] [ying piano: 679] [Video editing: 202] [Sneaking: 628] [Close-quartersbat: 457] [Observation: 673] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 530] [Firearms shooting: 1] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Partially Sleepless] [======] ''If Sleepless talent appears in the shop, I can still buy it,'' Tristan thought. Then he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Someone was calling him! Chapter 29: Assassin x assassin The caller was Pierce, and he was calling on Tristan Hayes''s protected phone. This was definitely important. "Yes, Mr. Pierce?" Tristan asked, picking up the call. While he talked, he still stared at himself shirtless in the mirror, tensing his various muscles. He was still in a slight awe of his changed body. "Hayes. I hope you had plenty of rest in thest few days, because I''ve got important information for you¡ªand a job." "Do you mean information about Cuatro Angulos? Do you know why one of them attacked me?" "Yes. Do you know a person called Mark Pezroca?" It took a moment to click. Tristan rarely heard Mark''s surname, since everybody called him just "Mark". But it did sound simr. "Mark¡­ Pezroca? Dark hair, tall, buff guy, right?" "Yes. He also currently walks with crutches thanks to a bad knee break. I don''t know if he had former ties with Cuatro Angulos, or convinced them with his pleas, but one of their leaders, Dagoberto Quixada, promised to help Mark restore justice. Mark wasn''t tight-lipped about this story, either. He says that it''s all for his formerly pretty former girlfriend." Tristan could almost imagine Pierce smiling like a creep at this. Meanwhile, Tristan himself wanted to punch a wall. Or better yet, Mark''s face. That asshole should''ve slunk away as soon as he got out of the hospital instead of trying to get revenge. He was really lucky until now that Tristan had other things to deal with, and had no attention to spare on even thinking about that trio. "Mr. Pierce, do you know if Mark''s subordinates, Evelyn and Ricky, are still in the city?" "They left as soon as they could. You have left an impression, Hayes, but not on them all, it seems. This will be a lesson for you to leave no enemy alive. Speaking of¡ªthis is your next job." Tristan shook his head, knowing that Pierce wouldn''t see it. He gave the trio some mercy, because they still were the people who took him in when he was at his lowest. Even if they had ulterior motives and weren''t the best of people, they deserved a chance. One chance. Evelyn and Ricky used theirs right, but Mark was going to pay. "What do you want me to do, Mr. Pierce?" "Although the feud between you and Mark had involved Cuatro Angulos and King Lion Gang, it''s really between you two, and always had been. If the two of you draw us into an actual full-out war, neither Cuatro Angulos leaders, nor Mr. von, won''t be happy. Not at all. So, Hayes, take out Mark yourself, so Quixada was forced to put down his weapons. Without giving him new reasons for revenge, of course. You already wounded one of his goons, but it was self-defense, basically. Justifiable." Tristan smirked. "I was just thinking about it, Mr. Pierce. So, I shouldn''t attack anyone from Angulos? Better not be seen at all, I imagine." "Exactly. You clearly have skill for that. Maybe you will be a full-time assassin, hm? Our organization will have a lot of use for one. So, clean up your mess, and do it efficiently." "I will, Mr. Pierce." "I''ve prepared information that will be useful for your mission. The link to a document where it''s stored will be in an SMS. There seems to not be a lot of protection around the target, but be careful. Also, I can provide you a suitable weapon if you need it¡ªfree of charge this time. This includes guns, too. Just give me a call. But don''t go near Good Lion Bar until I give you a clear¡ªyou can be watched." Tristan huffed. He was sure that he''d notice another spying thug, but he let Pierce have his caution. "Thank you for the help, Mr. Pierce. I will call you if I need something. Is that all?" "Yes. Have a good time, Hayes." Pierce ended the call. Tristan punched the wall next to the mirror, stopping his fist only millimeters away from the tile surface. Now he had something to do while he waited to see if his song passed the Californian Young Star contest''s preliminary round. "You are so dead, Mark." *** Same time, different ce. "That this man, Hayes, joined arge gang like the King Lion Gang,plicates matters. But retreating now, after he badly wounded one of my men? Show the lions that we are this scared of them? No, I can''t let Mark and his friends stay unavenged after promising him this. But I can''t provoke an all-out war with reckless actions either." Quixada stood in his seat. He was arge man, and when he stood, his powerful aura filled the entire office like the sunlight from the window behind him. However, if the man who stood on the other side of the office felt it, he didn''t show it. That man was tall and muscr, but lean, and dressed in urban camouge military clothing. He carried himself rxedly, yet like he was ready to attack at any moment. "Mr. Ranger, trust your reputation as an assassin. They say that you were a former U.S. Army Ranger, and have the body count in the dozens. This is very impressive. I''m sure you will seed in the mission." The Army Rangers were an elite U.S. military special regiments, specialized in raids on hostile territories, captures and assassinations. Although less known than Navy Seals, the Army Rangers were just as formidable and deadly. The assassin didn''t react to Quixada''s words, forcing the other man to continue. "The money has already been wired to your bank ount. Half in front, as you asked." Quixada gestured at a bag lying next to him. Ranger nodded again silently. Quixada frowned, beginning to grow slightly annoyed with the assassin''s extreme curtness. He barely spoke a word during their entire negotiation. "Hayesid low, but I''ve gathered some information on him and sent it to your personal email. Also, if you need weapons, I can provide, Mr. Ranger." The assassin just shook his head. Quixada huffed. "Well, then I wish you luck. Keep me informed on your progress, Mr. Ranger." The assassin nodded and exited the room with sure steps. For him, this was routine, and there was no need to expect anything too out of the ordinary. Chapter 30: Why does he need a gun? An hourter. Pierce really prepared all the information Tristan needed to n Mark''s assassination. ording to the file Tristan opened through the link, Mark was currently living in an apartment on Cuatro Angulos'' territory, together with two other members of the gang. Mark wasn''t an official member yet, but it was only a matter of formalities. From Pierce''s expectations, as soon as Mark could walk without support, he will get the gang''s signature tattoo. Pierce also got word from a hospital, which said that Mark will probably need a cane to walk for the rest of his life. As expected, Mark almost didn''t leave his current dwelling. It was a good thing, and a bad thing. With two roommates, Mark was rarely alone there, and the entire apartment building held a lot of Mexicans who were, in one way or another, affiliated with Cuatro Angulos. The entire district was full of the eyes and ears of the gang. Just walking to the building could be a problem for Tristan, who was being hunted himself. He studied the map of the city on hisptop and frowned. ''Even if I use my Pop-star identity in this ce, I might get attacked anyway because someone liked my jacket too much. No, I can''t approach openly. The best way will be not going too close at all.'' This was going to cost him a higher CP investment, but Tristan would need to raise these skills eventually, so it wasn''t a waste. [Ding!] [Firearms shooting skill increased from 1 to 601.] With the increase of skill, Tristan immediately became more sure about what he nned to do. He searched some things online, just to confirm his knowledge, then called Pierce again. "Mr. Pierce, you promised to deliver me a weapon. I will need a rifle with a silencer, you don''t mind. Oh, and an optic scope." "A rifle? Any rifle, Hayes?" "Yes, any will do." Pierce hummed. "How about a Remington 700? Will that suffice?" Remington 700 was a popr among hunters bolt-action rifle. Somewhat primitive, but reliable, and able to shoot at long distances. Tristan smiled. "Yes, this will work perfectly, Mr. Pierce." "Alright. This small thing I can arrange quickly. I will send you coordinates and timee there after this time to pick up your weapon. And ammo, of course. And you can keep it afterward." "Thank you for being generous, Mr. Pierce." "Just remember¡ªdon''t start a war, Hayes." It was another half an hour after the call ended when Tristan got the next message. It pointed to a small park a couple of bus stops away from the Good Lion Bar. The time specified was the middle of today''s night. Quick, but not convenient at all. ''Maybe I can get it after work,'' Tristan thought. ''Tomorrow, weekends start¡ªit will be a good time to make that kill. Yes, that''s a good n.'' In the meantime, he still had a few hours until his evening shift. Too little to scope out Mark''s apartment. Maybe Tristan could do more research, or just rx a little, or¡­ Struck by an idea, Tristan took off the earring that magically changed the way other people perceived him and turned into Tristan Gemello. Then he went to the remnants of his video shooting setup. He might as well shoot a new music video to get more CP forter! It didn''t take Tristan long to put his phone camera the way it stood thest time he made a video and arrange other things simrly. He opened the window curtains to invite the most light into the apartment and sat next to the window. His fake leather jacket was casually slung over one of Tristan''s shoulders. Sunlight poured on Tristan''s back, shadowing him and creating a halo around his head. The contrast sharpened his handsomeness, which would''ve been incredibly apparent to anyone who would''ve looked at Tristan at this moment. Tristan took his guitar, turned on the camera, and struck the chords. Although he was only ying the song for show, Tristan still put his soul into it. From the almost rxed riffs Tristan yed sitting on the chair the emotions rose until Tristan shot to his feet, singing to the top of his lungs like a rock-star on stage. "I soar toward ss dreams, DRAGONFLY!" When Tristan finished singing, he was slightly out of breath, but pleased with himself and the footage. And his system seemed to reflect that. [Ding!] [Stage presence skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Charisma attribute increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 100!] However, the sound quality was as bad as one could expect, and the visuals¡­ Well. It was still a video shot in one go, with an unmoving phone camera. That was as amateurish as it could get, and Tristan knew he wouldn''t move beyond that without finding a cameraman. But even in that video, the pure enjoyment and emotion Tristan put into singing was visible, and that was the key. That and his skills were all Tristan had. But everybody had skills¡ªthat''s what they spent years in music courses for. Talent and passion were rarer. Shooting the video only took half an hour, so Tristan had plenty of time to edit it, attach the prerecorded audio track to the video, and post it as well. Perhaps he was a bit hurrying and should''ve taken more time to polish the video, but he couldn''t wait¡ªnot when he had an assassination nned for tomorrow! And it was almost time to y piano. *** Several hourster. It was the earliest morning of the next day when Tristan came to the marked spot, wearing his Hayes identity. He knew how that type of item transfer worked. After looking carefully around, Tristan quickly spotted a parcel taped to the underside of a bench near himself. He tore it off and took the heavy parcel. It wasn''t as long as a rifle, but it was big enough to fit a rifle in a dismantled state. Tristan hid the parcel in his backpack. Next stop was Cuatro Angulos territory. Chapter 31: Pressure under fire The part of Cuatro Angulos'' territory that surrounded Mark''s current apartment was a real ghetto. Old buildings, roads full of potholes, and other sights of poverty. And Mexicans who lived here looked just as poor, although this early in the morning Tristan saw very few of them. He spotted a couple sitting in a yard, staring into emptiness with drug-addled eyes, and another one knocking on the door of a closed liquor store. But since it was so early, Tristan Hayes was mostly free to sneak around. He avoided walking near windows or out in the open and pulled the hood of his jacket low enough to hide his eyes. With his high observation and stealth skills, though, avoiding people was easy. He''d still feel safer if he could be Tristan Gemello, but right now, he had an illegal weapon in his backpack, so the risk was uneptable to him. Mark''s apartment building had four floors, just like several ones next to it. No one was guarding it, making Tristan''s job easy. He knew Mark lived there, but not in which apartment. To find that, Tristan had to look by himself. The windows of the apartments went only to two sides of the building, and each side had another apartment building, both equally shabby. Tristan picked one at random and went to its back, looking for the fire escape stairs. In these standard blueprint buildings, they all were in more or less the same ce. The stairs were there, on the back side of the building. If he jumped, Tristan could reach the lower part of the folded updder leading to them and climb up. After looking around to check that there really wasn''t anyone else, Tristan put on gloves and jumped. He easily reached thedder and pulled himself up. The strength he bought really came to use here. Ten secondster, Tristan took the rusty metal stairs to the roof. They creaked dangerously under his feet, but held. The roof was empty, save for some pipes and a few pigeons that flew away at Tristan''s appearance. Tristan sat there, a safe distance from the edge, and opened his backpack. He pulled Pierce''s parcel from inside and opened it. Parts of a disassembled Remington rifle shone slightly in the light. From a single nce, Tristan could tell that they were all in an excellent state, cleaned and oiled. There were also a couple dozen bullets, a silencer, and an optic scope. Tristan took the scope and put the rest away, then used the scope like a spyss to look into the windows of the Mark''s building. With the scope, he could easily see inside the windows. Even when the windows were blocked by curtains, Tristan could see shapes on the other side. As the time passed, more and more people inside began to wake up, get out of their beds, go to their kitchens¡­ But Tristan only needed one person. He was sure that he would see him from this building or from the other one, but it was a fifty-fifty chance, and could lead to a lot of time spent only on observation. As he thought that, Tristan spotted a different shape behind the curtains on the fourth floor. A shape of a person walking with the help of something¡­ like crutches. ''Mark! That''s him! Ah-ha-ha, how ironic¡ªto live on the fourth floor with a broken leg! No wonder you don''t go out. Does this building even have an elevator?'' Tristan smirked and set the scope aside to get his disassembled rifle. With smooth, sure motions, he set it together. In less than two minutes, the rifle was whole again. Tristan attached the scope and the silencer and moved the rounds from the backpack to his pocket. Then he loaded the rifle with five rounds that fit in it and aimed at Mark''s window. Mark had moved away from the window, but Tristan knew he wouldn''t go far. It was only a matter of time before he could be shot. Quietly and cleanly, just like Pierce wanted. Tristan sat and waited, slowly bing more and more hot under the summer sun. Ten minutes must''ve passed when a sound of pping wings caught Tristan''s attention. He turned there on reflex, but saw only a couple of pigeons taking off from the roof of Mark''s building. Then his senses registered more movement, and he noticed a man in a gray and brown city camouge pattern. Until he moved, the man was almost entirely blending with the gray and brown concrete there. And it wasn''t just because of the camouge¡ªTristan knew it immediately. That tall and lean man was hiding amid the water pipes on the roof on purpose. Although his face was hidden by a cloth mask, Tristan saw that his skin was too light for a Mexican. But he didn''t think Mark was Mexican either, so it didn''t matter. The man was staring right at Tristan. Even from the distance of twenty meters that separated them, Tristan saw it. The man also had a rifle on a strap over his shoulder. Tristan''s eyes widened. ''Fuck!'' He raised his rifle at the stranger in reflex, but the stranger was even faster! Half-way through the movement, Tristan knew he wouldn''t win a gunslinger duel between them. Instead of finishing the movement and shooting, Tristan threw his body to the side and rolled behind the nearest cover¡ªa waist-high water pipe. A bullet buzzed through the air right where Tristan just stood, but Tristan was also raising his rifle. There was no time to aim¡ªhe pointed the barrel at the enemy and let his instincts do the rest as he pulled the trigger. The shot missed, but Tristan forced the enemy to run for cover, too. There he disappeared, blending with his surroundings again. ''Two could y this game, asshole¡­'' Tristan''s clothing¡ªgray jacket, washed-blue jeans¡ªalso blended well with the concrete. He used all the cover avable and all his stealth skill to change his position while remaining unnoticed. Although he couldn''t see the enemy, he was sure the man was doing the same. Whoever found and shot the opponent first would win! Tristan rapidly ejected the spent casing and peeked out of his cover to shoot again. Chapter 32: Sniper duel If a pigeon was flying over two buildings at that moment, it would''ve seen that Tristan and his enemy, Ranger, moved out of their cover at exactly the same time. Their eyes searched the space for a fraction of a second before snapping toward each other. Ranger was faster again. He didn''t expect his target to act with such speed and skill, but he had too much experience to let that faze him. Unlike him, Tristan didn''t expect to enter a fight, here, now, and in this manner. At all. Tristan''s heart was beating a mile a minute¡ªbut outwardly he was still calm. ''Fake it until you make it! Make it out alive!'' They both shot and immediately went for cover again. Both shots were quiet, since Ranger''s rifle also had a silencer. Back in the cover, Tristan ejected the casing and nced at his shoulder, biting his lip. A bullet grazed him slightly, leaving a bleeding scratch, but he barely felt pain yet. But because of that scratch, Tristan himself missed the target entirely. ''That guy is definitely some kind of pro! Like a Navy Seal or a special spy agent or an assassin¡­ My stats are not high enough to deal with him!'' Tristan still had Criminal Points to put into stats¡ªhe just had to open the status and tap a few buttons. A few seconds, that''s all. A car drove loudly by the street below, making Tristan jerk away in reflex. A bullet that was aimed at his foot missed by an inch, only leaving another scratch on him. Because the pipes were elevated from the roof by a few inches, Tristan''s legs were open to the enemy! On the other roof Ranger frowned, but ejected the spent casing and prepared to shoot again. Tristan barely had time to swear inwardly as he half-ran, half-crawled to another pipe, and froze there. He hoped to at least throw the enemy off for a moment. He knew he didn''t even have time to shoot back, not really. Pipes were a shitty cover. He needed to get off the roof, and he needed a distraction. Tristan remembered what he saw on the other roof when he looked back thest time. With his observation skill, things were pretty clear. Water pipes, somerge technical cube¡ªwas it the building''s hot water boiler? Or something rted to its AC units? It had a few pipes leading to it. A n formed in Tristan''s head. He crept away for several steps, just in case. It didn''t feel right to stay in one ce with a sniper just twenty meters away. Ranger frowned. He was sure that he spotted Tristan''s legs under pipes again, but he blinked and they were gone. He kept looking out¡ªas soon as Tristan peeked out from the pipes, a bullet would surely go through his head. Tristan felt a phantom itch in his forehead. He forced himself to act calm as he imagined the approximate position of the enemy. Then he lowered the rifle to the ground and shot below the pipe, aiming from memory¡ªtwo times as quickly as he could, knowing that the enemy wouldn''t let him do it more than once. On the other roof, Ranger waspletely surprised by a shot from nowhere. He only spotted the barrel of Tristan''s rifle poking from under the pipe a momentter, and because of shock, was toote to react and shoot back. A moment after his second shot, Tristan peeked out¡ªfrom above now¡ªto see the result. His bullets hit with more sess than Tristan ever hoped. He was hoping to distract the enemy with a shower from water pipes. And not only his bullets made a hole in a pipe, they also hit the enemy himself. From the pipe was pouring a fountain of water, and some of it was now red with blood. Below, people were growing steadily more and more aware of the fight. Suppressors muffled the sounds of gunshots, but they stayed loud enough to be heard from the street below. And with Angulos'' thugs all around, Tristan knew if he stayed here for too long, he will end up surrounded on all sides. Clenching his teeth, Tristan dashed toward the fire exit. Only there he could exhale with relief¡ªnow an entire building separated him from the enemy. But he didn''t have much time. ''Status!'' [======] [Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)] [Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.] [Pop-star rank: Opened The Door.] [Criminal rank: Rook.] [Pop-star Points: 0] [Criminal Points: 3940] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 54] [Charisma: 34] [Fearsomeness: 33] [Strength: 120] [Dexterity: 125] [Toughness: 42] [===Skills===] [Singing: 432] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 669] [Music theory: 274] [Music production: 511] [Acting: 392] [Songwriting: 517] [Voice control: 284] [Stage presence: 140] [ying piano: 679] [Video editing: 202] [Sneaking: 628] [Close-quartersbat: 457] [Observation: 673] [Driving: 16] [Pickpocketing: 530] [Firearms shooting: 601] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Partially Sleepless] [======] Tristan rapidly tapped the buttons, barely thinking about what he increased. [Ding!] [Strength attribute increased from 120 to 220.] [Ding!] [Dexterity attribute increased from 125 to 225.] [Ding!] [Toughness attribute increased from 42 to 142.] [Ding!] [As a result of attribute changes, your appearance attribute increased by 25, your charisma attribute increased by 5, and your fearsomeness attribute increased by 8.] [Ding!] [Observation skill increased from 673 to 873.] [Ding!] [Sneaking skill increased from 628 to 828.] [Ding!] [Close-quartersbat skill increased from 457 to 997.] All the points Tristan gathered to buy talentster¡ªgone, just like that. But his body was filled with even more strength than before. He could feel his muscles bulging under his clothing, although they never became as huge and cumbersome as muscles of heavyweight lifters or bodybuilders. After that, Tristan hurriedly reloaded his rifle. It took almost half a minute, since each round had to be manually put inside the rifle. At any moment, Tristan''s enemy could appear below and shoot at him. The fire stairs weren''t a good cover. Or someone could walk below and spot him. Tristan gripped his loaded rifle. His heart was pumping, but in his head, he had a n. He went back to the roof. Chapter 33: Impressing the enemy After peeking from behind a cover carefully, Tristan saw that the other roof was empty. Like he thought, the enemy thought Tristan wouldn''t dare to go back up and decided to chase him on the ground. Tristan smiled. His intention wasn''t trying to outshout the enemy again. Instead, he moved into a position from which he could see Mark''s room. Even if Mark was rmed by silenced gunshots from above, how far could he leave with a broken knee? The answer was¡ªnot far at all. Mark''s silhouette was visible in his room through the thin curtain. With the increased observation skill, Tristan spotted even more details than before. Mark was calling someone, but getting no response. In frustration, he was moving the phone away from his ear and back. Tristan aimed at Mark''s head. At this distance, he didn''t even need optics. His anger red within him. ''I gave him a second chance, and instead of taking it and getting the fuck out of this city, he turned against me. Even that bitch Evelyn had enough sense to know when she''s beaten!'' Tristan scowled and pressed the trigger. The bullet flew forth like a continuation of his anger. It left a small hole in the window ss, the curtain, Mark''s head, and stuck in the wall behind him. There were barely any traces, but Mark fell like a puppet with cut strings. Tristan let out a long breath, satisfaction welling in him, and ejected the spent casing. There were plenty of those lying around, which were definitely a piece of evidence, but at this point, it was toote to gather them. ''That other shooter¡ªit''s good that he lost me for now. I better just get away from him. If he''s from Cuatro Angulos and I kill him, Pierce will have my neck. I''m not strong enough to get into hot water with two gangs at once¡ªyet.'' With that thought, Tristan ran to the fire stairs. They were too open and left him vulnerable, but the inner staircase was definitely full of rmed people right now¡ªif the door toward it was open at all. He ran down the stairs two at a time, forcefully ignoring the way rusty metal creaked under his feet. Tristan was at the second floor when he saw his attacker appear from the corner, rifle at the ready. The wound Tristan had left him before now was bandaged roughly. ''Shit. You leave me no choice!'' Tristan ran all the remaining stairs down, then jumped down from the two meters that separated him and thewn below. A bullet scratched his unwounded shoulder, making his wounds more symmetrical. Tristannded into a crouch, feeling the impact pulse through his feet and hearing the crunch of discarded syringes under his shoes. [Ding!] [You gained a new skill¡ªathletics. Reward: 100 PP!] Tristan blinked and sprung into a run, charging at the enemy and raising his own rifle. He shot at his legs, barely aiming, and missed when the enemy jerked away. However, the enemy''s returned shots missed Tristan, too. There were only ten meters separating them when Tristannded, and he crossed them in a blink of an eye. Without hesitation, Tristan let his rifle fall to the ground and punched his opponent in the face. The punch flew with even more speed and precision than Tristan showed before. With his honed reflexes, Ranged barely was ready to block it with his own rifle. However, Tristan saw through his defenses. Instead of breaking his fist on a metal rifle, he moved his hand around it, turning his punch into a grab for Ranger''s weapon. Ranger barely slipped away from that when Tristan kicked at his knee faster than a snake. A blow upon blow was ruthlessly raining on Ranger, and the tough man could barely weather them. He didn''t even have an opportunity to pull out hisbat knife. It was absolutely not the same level Ranger had judged Tristan to be at from their shootout on the roof! His current strength was on the level of aspiring athletes, and his technique was something Ranger was totally unprepared for. [Ding!] [You have impressed a person of high skill. Reward: your PP increased by 500!] Although Tristan was used to annoying notifications, this one still distracted him for a fraction of a second. His opponent used the time tounch a counterattack, bashing Tristan with the butt of his rifle. However, Tristan dodged and immediately seized the initiative again. With a punch at the enemy''s throat, Tristan sent the man to the ground, where he coughed heavily and gasped for breath. Tristan kicked his head, knocking the man out entirely. ''A person of high skill? Who was this guy?'' He wanted to analyze the new type of notification he got, but he already saw some people looking at him from the windows, and there were shouts, too. However, Tristan couldn''t just ignore the man he defeated. He leaned over his body and quickly patted through the man''s pockets. With his pickpocket''s fingers, Tristan quickly fished a phone out of them. Tristan also lowered down his mask¡ªthe man was as white as they got. And a quick check showed ack of any tattoos on the back of his neck. ''Is he not from Angulos?'' Tristan wondered. ''Maybe he has a tattoo somewhere else. Fuck, there are too many people around to kill him, anyway.'' Feeling like he was painting a target on his back, Tristan just took the man''s phone and ran away from the stares directed at him toward the less crowded alleyways. Tristan moved around, keeping a keen ear out for other people and avoiding them. He sneaked through the shadows until he was far from themotion he caused. The mission didn''t go as perfectly as he wanted to, but it worked out. He was sure that if no one saw his face in detail from the distance Tristan was at, and he covered part of it by his hood. Now was the time to reap his rewards and search for some answers. Chapter 34: Slapping a persons face without seeing him Half an hourter. Tristan Hayes was sitting in some roadside diner, being a normal,w-abiding citizen. The disassembled rifle was lying in his backpack, and he had cleaned his scratches in another diner''s bathroom. His shirt was pretty bloody, but his jacket mostly covered it. Although he was in a public ce, there was no one in his earshot¡ªthe diner was almost empty at the moment. Even the cashier wasn''t paying Tristan any mind. The trophy phone was on the table in front of him. It had a password. Tristan couldn''t do anything about it. Even if the hacking skill was on sale today, he was all out of Criminal Points! He still had no idea who the guy on the roof was. But he certainly was skilled, and even the Second Identity System appreciated it. ''Does this mean I will get more points in the future if I impress people who are pros at something? Does it have to be rted to what I impress them with, specifically? I impressed plenty of people in the Good Lion Bar with my music. Even Leon von! I''m sure that they had high skills in something gangster-rted. But I don''t think that gave me more points than oppressing other people.'' Tristan wished dearly that his system had clearer documentation attached than a brief FAQ. Something like an entire wiki. Or if it could reply to him. Although if there was an actually sentient thing living rent-free in his head¡­ No, thanks. Tristan definitely preferred his current one. Tristan huffed in irritation and put the shooter''s phone away. Instead, he pulled out his own and called Pierce. "Hayes. What is it?" "I''ve done what you asked. There was aplication, though, and I didn''t catch his name." "I see. Very well. Come to the bar when you can, and we will talk in more detail." "Will do, Mr. Pierce." When the call ended, Tristan wondered if he would have time to get home and shower first. Well, Pierce wasn''t specific about the time, although he probably wouldn''t be happy about being kept waiting. *** [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 13 thousand people online with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 1500!] The notification caught with Tristan on the way to the bar. Toote to matter, but it was still nice to see. Inside the bar, Tristan was immediately invited into Pierce''s office. It only took Pierce a nce to notice Tristan''s wounds. "Ah. So that''s what you meant by aplication, Hayes. What happened?" After Tristan told what happened and showed the trophy phone, Pierce nodded in understanding. "I imagine this man was a hired gun. Quixada didn''t want to escte hostilities between our gangs, so this is a natural choice. If you took him out, no one would''ve missed him. But it''s good that you didn''t¡ªit never hurts to be too careful. As for the phone, give it to me. A specialist might try finding something interesting there, although I doubt there is anything." Tristan nodded. He realized stillcked experience in therger criminal world. Otherwise, he would''vee to Pierce''s conclusions by himself. Now he wondered if the mercenary would return to finish the job. However, he felt it was unlikely. Quixada didn''t have a good reason to attack Tristan anymore, although he certainly won''t like Tristan more after today. And the mercenary himself was impressed with Tristan''s skills¡ªthis probably meant he won''t dare to fight. The mercenary also had to recover from the concussion Tristan gave him first. "Anyway, Hayes, if you are injured, go to a medic. I will give you contacts of a reliable man who patches up members of our organization." Tristan shook his head. Back at home, he cleaned and bandaged the scratches. However, even before that, they had already stopped bleeding, probably thanks to his high toughness. "I''m fine, Mr. Pierce," Tristan said with a wave of his hand, ying up his self-assured gangster persona. "Are you? That''s good. I felt like you were being idle for too long because of this story with Cuatro Angulos. I didn''t hire you just to pay you a sry, you know." Pierce fixed his sses and gave Tristan a sharp look. "One of my people got sick, so I need a recement for a couple of days. You will guard a warehouse for me. It will be an excellent opportunity to make sure that Quixada really got off your back, too." A couple of days¡­ Tristan hoped this will fit with his second job schedule. Outwardly, he only shrugged slightly. "Alright, Mr. Pierce. Where and when?" Pierce exined the details of the job. After he said that Tristan only had to stay there for 8 hours per shift, and his shifts were in the morning, he was immediately relieved. Besides that, there wasn''t much to speak about. Tristan got a printout of details and instructions to arrive at the ce tomorrow. *** Next day, in another ce. Quixada read Ranger''s report, feeling angrier and angrier with every word. [Mr. Quixada, I can''t fulfill my part of the contract. The target was too strong, and I''m currently healing. I have returned the payment you gave me.] There weren''t many words, but he was still livid after reading this. The assassin didn''t even bother to appear before Quixada''s eyes, sending an email instead. What an insult! ''These damned whites can''t do anything right! And the thug who asked for my help died as well. Pathetic! Now I look like someone tripped me and I fell face-first into a dog turd!'' The man, sorge and powerful, could only helplessly clench his fists. He couldn''t afford to attack Tristan Hayes again anymore. His own superiors would feed him to the fishes for that. ''Damn you, Hayes!'' *** Tristan was leaning on a wall of a warehouse, being bored out of his mind on his boring guard job, when he heard another ding. [Ding!] [You have pped the face of a powerful person. Reward: your PP increased by 500!] Chapter 35: An unexpected obstacle appears After reading the notification, Tristan chuckled to himself and rxed again. The guard job was really uneventful, and did nothing besides increasing his observation skill a little, but this notification just made Tristan''s day. *** Three weekster. [Ding!] [You have passed the preliminary round of the Californian Young Star contest. Your status had improved. Reward: your CP increased by 500!] [Ding!] [Your Pop-star rank has changed from Opened The Door to Vying Young Star! Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] At the same time as Tristan saw these pop-ups, there was a notification of a new email from hisptop. With his heart beating faster from excitement, Tristan closed YouTube and opened his email instead. His eyes fell on the header of the new letter. [Sender: CYS Contest Jury Committee] [Header: You have passed the preliminary round of the Californian Young Star contest.] Tristan did it! Even if he was sure about himself, there was always a chance of failure. But from now on, at least Tristan will see his opponents as hepetes. He opened the letter, reading the details. The next round of the contest was based in major cities of the state, one of which was Tristan''s city. Tristan had two more weeks to prepare for it. Then the entire contest would happen in two days. All of it will be recorded, and the best parts will be shownter on TV. On TV! Even if it was a Californian TV channel that few people watched even within the state itself. Still excited, Tristan almost jumped away from his table and ran to his musical setup. In thest two weeks, he had done more shopping. He had two sries, after all. Since Quixada gave up in fear and let Tristan be, he didn''t get targeted by anyone. Compared to the fight with Quixada''s mercenary, the jobs Tristan Hayes got from Pierce after that were easy, but they paid well. Tristan often had to beat up or kill someone, just threaten them, or destroy some property. Sometimes Pierce sent Tristan to work together with a team, but most of the time, Tristan was on his own. He still learned a lot about the members of the Good Lion Gang and their dealings from his jobs and from listening to the bar''s patrons in evenings. The earned money went to better furniture, better and more clothing, better food, better instruments, and the better guitar Tristan picked up just now. He turned on the amplifier and began ying on it, releasing his excitement by putting it into the music! The resulting wild riffs sounded almost likeughter. After half a minute of that, Tristan felt much calmer. He put his guitar back and went to the fridge. Long past were the days when it was empty half the time. Now, from the well-stocked shelves, Tristan picked a can of cold beer and went back to hisptop, sipping on the beer. He read the letter again. The rules of the next round were exined there. They weren''t known until now, and they changed from the previous year¡ªdoubtlessly to make it harder for contestants to prepare beforehand. Every contestant will y the song they used for the preliminary round. However, they also had to perform on stage with it. Then judges examined the entire performance live to pick one and only one winner out of over thirty contestants! The only exception was that if the singer didn''t y himself, he or she could use recorded music. This added an entire extra dimension to the performance. Besides a song being harder to perform live than in a studio, the singer had to look and move beautifully. People who could sing and dance at the same time definitely had an advantage. Tristan smiled and made another sip of the beer. This meant he definitely had an advantage! In thest three weeks, he gathered plenty of points for both identities. Part of them came from terrifying people as a criminal, the other part¡ªfrom posting a couple more videos with song covers for his own channel. Besides that, there was just a gradual improvement of his attributes and skills. Although Tristan spent 4000 points on "Sleepless" talent, and 1000 points on a driving license for his Gemello identity, he still had plenty left. And thanks to the talent, he could work two jobs, do side-projects, and still have some leisure time. He opened his status panel. [======] [Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)] [Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.] [Pop-star rank: Vying Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Rook.] [Pop-star Points: 1420] [Criminal Points: 1890] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 80] [Charisma: 40] [Fearsomeness: 44] [Strength: 222] [Dexterity: 227] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 447] [Dancing: 8] [ying guitar: 684] [Music theory: 279] [Music production: 521] [Acting: 412] [Songwriting: 532] [Voice control: 299] [Stage presence: 152] [ying piano: 694] [Video editing: 217] [Sneaking: 843] [Close-quartersbat: 1023] [Observation: 900] [Driving: 116] [Pickpocketing: 532] [Firearms shooting: 611] [Athletics: 216] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [======] All his skills gradually improved with practice, although Tristan improved his driving and athletics with CP on purpose. If he only improved skills naturally, Tristan would need several years to reach his current level. But thanks to his Second Identity System, he basically learned at 11 times the normal speed. And that without counting the bonuses from status and rank increases! Now Tristan tapped on his dancing skill. [Ding!] [Dancing skill increased from 8 to 608.] Tristan closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the new knowledge. Now his skill level was around that of a professional backstage dancer. He had only two weeks to n his performance! Also¡­ Tristan checked the date of the contest. It was a workday. ''Correction. Two weeks to n my performance and convince the bar administrator to give me a leave day. I hope I won''t have to convince Pierce, too¡­ Couldn''t they have made the contest on weekends? Maybe I will have to pretend to be sick¡ªshit, but what about my other identity? I can''t do gang work on that day either. But if both Hayes and Gemello call sick at once, it will be suspicious!'' What an unexpected obstacle. Chapter 36: Cynical thoughts Next evening. The bar administrator sighed. "Yes, the musicalpetition sounds like something amazing, but you don''t have any official leave days yet, Gemello. If I just give you a leave from nowhere, Mr. Pierce will have my hide. He''s strict about it. But I will ask him for you." That was kind, considering how creepy Pierce could be. Tristan smiled gratefully. "Thank you." "Now, since I''m helping you out, don''t you want to help me out with closing the bar, Gemello?" The man gestured at the bar counter around him, with dirty sses standing in a small sink, a washing rag thrown to the side, and other junk left after an evening shift in the bar. Tristan knew that kindness didn''te from nowhere. It never did. People were just using each other for their own gain. Even when they acted "altruistically" it was just to make themselves feel good. Despite his cynical thoughts, Tristan kept smiling. "Well, since you were so kind. But next time I will just ask Mr. Pierce myself," he said, picking up the washing rag. "Where to clean?" *** Next evening. "Mr. Pierce actually agreed to give you a leave, Gemello. But damn, I should''ve asked you to help me close the shifts for the next week for how much he made me sweat!" Tristan chuckled. Next time, the administrator will think twice about the terms of his deals. Either way, now he only had to get a leave for his second identity. *** Next morning. Luckily for Tristan, Pierce had invited him to the office for another mission briefing. Now they both leaned over the folder Pierce spread on the table. There were three pictures of small businesses at the edge of the gang''s territory. "You''ve been a model soldier of our organization so far, Hayes, and I think you can shoulder more responsibility. Recognize these ces?" Tristan nodded. "You have sent me to convince their owners that they need our gang''s protection." "That''s right. And since you were so good at it, I want you to monitor them after now, and pick money from. You decide on the exact schedule, as long as the organization gets the necessary amount monthly." Tristan''s eyes lit up. That was a step up in the food chain of the gang, definitely! It meant that he could even ask the business owners for a bit more to get some money into his own pocket. Although from the knowing gleam in Pierce''s eyes, Tristan knew it was a trick. Doing so was almost the same as stealing from the gang. Tristan knew Pierce calcted protection money carefully, to take as much money as he could without bleeding the businesses entirely dry. If a ce closed because of him, Pierce won''t be happy. This was another test. "Thank you, Mr. Pierce. I finally feel like a respected man," Tristan said in a joking tone. Pierce smiled. "You still need to work to earn actual respect¡­ but you seem to be determined to get there, Hayes. Either way, don''t think that you will bezing around, doing something only a few days a month. I have another mission for you as well." "Of course? What is it?" They discussed the details of Tristan''s new assignments for a bit. Tristan had to beat a guy who thought he could pickpocket around King Lion''s haunts without paying a fee to the gang. The usual stuff. Just before he''d be dismissed, Tristan spoke up. "Mr. Pierce, may I ask for a free day? So I won''t have to be on call on that day?" Pierce narrowed his eyes. "Why? I give you enough rest already, Hayes." Normally, Tristan Hayes had a devil-may-care, self-assured attitude. He wore it like armor, although giving Pierce appropriate respect. However, now Tristan schooled his face in an expression of most seriousness, and his eyes shone with pride. "My cousin is going topete at arge musical contest. He actually passed the preliminary round! I have to support him out there, so I want a free day to watch thepetition." Pierce looked slightly taken aback at that change of attitude, but quickly regained his calm. "Oh, that''s right. You know, Hayes, I''ve never found out how the two of you are rted. And I''ve searched around." Inwardly, Tristan scowled at Pierce''s suspiciousness, but outwardly he acted like he didn''t care at all. Good thing that he expected questions like these since he came up with the n to just ask Pierce about leave directly! Of course Piece would check backgrounds of both Hayes and Gemello. But only Hayes actually had a background. Gemello''s identity appeared out of thin air. "We aren''t actually rted, Mr. Pierce, but that''s easier to exin to people. Me and my cousin are more like¡­ sworn brothers? But with our surnames it''d be even weirder if we called each other brothers!" Tristan chuckled. "I know it''s weird, Mr. Pierce. And considering what I''m doing for a living, I''d rather not show my association with my cousin much. But he asked me to be on thepetition site." "Must be a fascinating tale. Alright, Hayes, you can have that day. Would be nice to say that our bar raised a future pop-star." Pierce waved his hand in dismissal, and Tristan left the room, inwardly smirking. People looked only at the face, never letting their suspicions go deeper. *** Eleven dayster. It was apetition day, but Tristan began preparing himself since he came home yesterday. He checked once again everything he prepared for his performance, rehearsed his dance movements for thest time, and packed all he could need for the contest. Now, with a few hours to spare on preparation on the spot, Tristan went out of his apartment. He had arge backpack on his back and a guitar case slung over his shoulder. In the parking lot, he found his moped, put on a helmet, strapped all his things to the small vehicle, and mounted it himself. ''I want a normal car¡­'' Tristan started the engine and drove off toward thepetition. He will just have to win first spot and use the cash prise to get himself that car! Chapter 37: Familiar faces Thepetition was held in the city''s music hall. There were a few posters for the event stered around the entrance, and many people were walking in and out as Tristan approached. Some were clearly about topete, some had badges of the staff, and others were there to watch. Tristan kept his eyes on his surroundings, as always, watching for danger. But no one cared for him more or less than for any other contestant. A staff member checked his ID, then gave him a paper brochure with the contest''s timetable and pointed him toward the dressing rooms. Tristan didn''t know who came up with this, but cing dressing rooms on the second floor, reachable only via a wide staircase, was a stupid idea. It was hard to ascend the stairs when you carried heavy bags with costumes or instruments. Tristan was strong enough to carry all his things without a problem and even had a free hand, but others weren''t so lucky. As he walked up, he saw a young woman struggle to keep the hem of her long dress from under her feet while carrying a clutch. Next to her, a man was struggling under the weight of a huge suitcase. Tristan was passing the woman on the staircase when she finally tripped. With a shriek and a il of her arms, she began falling backward, still gripping the clutch to her chest. Moving on reflex, Tristan stepped up and caught the falling woman by the waist. She gasped and breathed out a sign of relief. If she fell, she could''ve tumbled an entire meter down the stairs, and surely would''ve broken or sprained something! The woman straightened up, still holding on her savior''s arm. Her shining blue eyes, full of gratitude, met his¡­ Tristan''s arm recoiled from the woman like it was burned! She almost lost her bnce on the staircase again, and Tristan had to make a step down the stairs to keep his own. Only his high acting skill let him prevent shock and disdain from appearing on his face. He didn''t recognize her from the back, but Tristan could never forget the face of Jane Greenpawl, the former girlfriend that dumped him over the phone when he was at his lowest point in life! She was beautiful, like a porcin doll¡ªperfect and artificial, definitely with some stic surgeries done even at her youthful age. Wavy blond hair falling to her back, even bronze tan¡ªJane looked like she just stepped from the cover of a fashion magazine in her flowing blue mermaid dress. And of course, Jane didn''t recognize Tristan at all, because she only knew his Hayes identity, but not Gemello. She looked at Tristan in confusion, then in offense. "Huh? Why are you staring at me like that? I was about to thank you for saving me, but you look like you saw an earwig crawling on my face! Humph!" Jane shuddered. However, she couldn''t quite stop looking at her savior''s face. He was just too easy on the eyes, too handsome¡ªand with such powerful arms¡­ She wondered if maybe he was just surprised by something and not offended by her face. Or maybe her makeup was terribly smudged somewhere! Jane turned to her helper in rm. "Carlos, stop fooling around! We need to get to the dressing rooms before all the best spots are taken, or my makeup will be ruined!" "Yes, yes, I''m sorry, Ms. Greenpawl." She ran off, forgetting all about Tristan. He watched Jane''s back for a moment longer. ''What is she doing here? Huh¡­ Well, the Greenpawl family is wealthy, but far from as wealthy and well-known as the Hayes family. Perhaps for her this is a good ce tounch her career.'' Tristan resumed walking toward the dressing room. ''Fate brought her in my path, telling me to teach her a lesson. And I fucking will. She will NEVER win this round ofpetition as long as I''m here, for a start!'' Tristan walked past the helpfully left direction markers until reaching the men''s dressing rooms. There were several of them, each with a row of vanities, some curtains to change behind, and some lockers. However, the closest to the entrance was already full of people! Tristan didn''t expect that there would be so many participants and their helpers, and that they all would arrive so early¡ªright to the opening hours of the music hall. He had no choice but to go further. Thankfully, thest dressing room still had some free space. Several people were sitting at the dressers, putting on and fixing their costumes, trying to calm down their nerves, or inspecting their instruments. Some nces were thrown toward Tristan, but then people resumed minding their business. And there, Tristan''s observation skill let him immediately notice another familiar face. That was much less important, though. He didn''t even remember the guy''s name. That young man acted so snobbishly back when he tried to take the position of the Good Lion Bar''s pianist, but in the end, had to leave with his tail tucked. Tristan didn''t pay him any mind as he went toward the remaining free mirror and began unpacking his things. He had to tune his guitar, put on his full costume and make sure everything was smooth. And he didn''t even have a stylist for it¡­ For a while, Tristan fixed everything up in peace, until realizing that he didn''t have enough free space. Because the pianist guy spread his things so widely around that they encroached on Tristan''s space. Tristan pushed them away. The pianist guy immediately swiveled in his seat, with his hairbrush raised in rm. "Hey! What are you doing?!" "Keep your things at your ce, mister," Tristan said in his tried and tested ''do that or I will break your knees'' tone. "Others need the space, too." Recognition shed in the pianist guy''s eyes. "Ha! It''s you! You! I knew you were just some guitar guy. What do you even need the space for? All your image is just tussling hair like a crow''s nest and painting bags under your eyes! You can deal with leaving me more space, you know. It''s not like you have even a chance to win!" Tristan sneered. That gnat didn''t know whom he crossed. Chapter 38: The competition is fierce People were watching Tristan and the piano guy now. He didn''t care. He reached for the piano guy''s items, but a voice from the other seat next to him made Tristan pause. "Man, if you need more space, I can move. No need to start a fight over this! For real." Tristan turned to look at the person who was already moving his things to the side to give Tristan more room. The person was a young man, somewhat handsome in a boring "vige boy" way. He had shaggy blond hair, open blue eyes and a wide, kind smile. He seemedid-back and genuinely nice. Which Tristan didn''t trust for one moment. "No, thanks," he said and turned back to the piano guy. Without warning, Tristan silently pushed his things away from "his" ce, until everything was behind the invisible line. A bottle of water (closed) toppled and rolled on the ground, followed by a book of notes and a bunch of hair-styling products. The piano guy gasped in outrage and stood to his feet. From the corner of his eyes, Tristan saw the reflection of the blond guy''s shock. "Damn it! I knew people like you are just¡­ savages! Thugs! Bandits!" Tristan pulled out his makeup kit and spread it in front of the dressing mirror. No matter what they said in interviews, no human could look perfect for a camera without makeup or photo editing. It didn''t matter if it was a man or a woman, every star did makeup. Even on Tristan''s handsome face were tiny blemishes that could be corrected, and things that could be enhanced even further with makeup. In thest two weeks, he invested a lot into this vital skill. Not only money for the makeup kit, but also training and Pop-star Points. There was a new line in his status now, and it said: [Styling: 506] With expert movements, Tristan began applying the makeup to himself, starting with the tone foundation. "You are disturbing other people. Be quiet before someone calls the security and drags you out." The calm with which Tristan said this was so powerful that the piano guy recoiled from it. The force of Tristan''s personality pushed like a massive snow-swept mountain. Without a word, with its nature itself, it threatened to drop an avnche of snow on top of a person shouting too loudly! The piano guy closed his mouth and sat back, shaken. But then, to his surprise, he was approached by the blond man. "Um. Well, it looks like you need the space I freed more. It won''t be as convenient, but you can take it!" The blonde gestured at his part of the dressing room. Tristan nced at the pair sharply in the mirror''s reflection. The blond man was smiling kindly at the piano guy. However, when Tristan''s gaze met the blonde''s, that smile didn''t drop. ''What a strange man. Is he so determined to help that he doesn''t care whom he helps?'' However, the piano man shook his head and scoffed. "Ugh. I will be better on my own. Just stick to your own business, you understand?" He turned away and muttered more quietly, "What did the judges think, letting this vige pumpkinpete?" The blonde''s smile dimmed for a moment from hurt. However, a momentter, he shrugged and went back to his seat, seemingly forgetting the entire matter. ''What a strange man,'' Tristan thought again. When no one was looking, he stole the piano guy''s hair gel, andter threw it into the garbage bin together with some of his own trash. Watching him look all over the ce trying to find the hair gel was satisfying. *** The actual contest began with an opening ceremony, which Tristan watched from the waiting area away from the stage. It was arge room with plenty of seats for every participant and some, and had arge projector screen set in it, as well as loudspeakers. The order of contestants was written on a wall poster right next to the screen. Tristan was going to perform almost thest. Right now, the projector screen was showing the stage. On it stood the host, addressing the audience. "And today we will wee the most talented young people of California, whose determination to reach the heights of show business shines as brightly as the stars! Those are Californian young stars, and on this stage they will show what they can for our judges!" The host then introduced each judge by name. Each of them was a small-grade celebrity. "And without further ado, our first contestant¡ªPhilippa Gray! This young woman is like the rising sun, the rays of which will surely warm the hearts of everyone who listens to her soul-wrenching country songs." Tristan leaned closer, watching as the young woman dressed in jean shorts and a poncho yed on an acoustic guitar. She was an excellent singer, and despite barely moving during her performance, made all eyes fall on her. The nervousness she felt was almost imperceptible. Just the first contestant, and there already was a worthy adversary. However, Tristan was much more interested in the reaction of the judges. He wanted to know what they liked and disliked and adjust his performance ordingly. There was no room for mistakes! Out of over thirty contestants, only one will pass to the next round! The next couple of performances were worse than the first one, but these people were still talented. Then, Tristan saw the piano guy walk to the stage. Remembering his y a couple of months earlier, Tristan was skeptical. But when he heard the first seconds ofthat man''s (Frank Valerian, host reminded) performance, Tristan was still blown away. Valerian, with his slicked-back hair and a way too formal tux, yed like a man possessed! Although the melody Valerian performed didn''t have vocals, it had so much personality in it that even the most skeptical judges were blown away. ''No way¡­ Where did this snob dig so much talent from?! Even if he didn''t make the song himself¨Che couldn''t have learned THAT quickly!'' Tristan couldn''t believe it. Something HAD to be amiss! Chapter 39: Threatened backstage Tristan leaned forward in his seat, watching the performance like a hawk. Valerian''s hands were flying over the keyboard of the electric piano, almost as if the man was controlled by an invisible puppet master. Valerian himself was hunched over the piano, ring at something invisible. It was a song of pure passion, movement, and pride. It sounded like a military march, if one was twice as fast and with several sharp series of notes that sounded way too rock for a march. With the speed at which Valerian''s fingers moved, it was almost impossible to tell that the notes in the melody didn''t alwayse at the same time when Valerian pressed the keys. Sometimes they were just a fraction of a second slower or faster. Tristan himself wouldn''t have noticed if he didn''t scrutinize every second of Valerian''s performance whenever the camera showed him from up close. Even then, he wasn''t 100% sure his hunch was correct. There weren''t enough close-up shots of the camera! The song ended, and Valerian bowed to the audience. The juries apuded together with everybody else and began animatedly discussing the performance. "This was a very interesting mixing of genres and instruments." "Yes, a very unusual participant. And on the stage, you can really see the passion he put into this music live." "A new take on ssics! Too bad there was no way to put an actual piano on this stage¡­" Tristan didn''t listen to the rest of the conversation, or to the host announcing the next contestant. He stood up and walked out of the waiting room and toward the backstage, his guitar hanging on his back. However, instead of going directly to the area whererge instruments and other equipment were stored between performances, Tristan found a narrow hallway branching out next to it and hid behind the corner. Silent and almost unnoticeable¡ªunless someone came up from behind¡ªTristan waited for a dozen minutes until he saw Valerian walk past, going toward the dressing room. Tristan continued on his way until he reached the room where the equipment was stored. Like he expected, Valerian''s electric piano was still there, standing to the side, amid other instruments, decorations, and stage equipment. From this room, he could clearly hear the voice of the host announcing the next participant. A couple of stage workers were carrying arge piece of decoration to the stage, but they didn''t pay Tristan any mind. They didn''t return afterward, either. Thankfully, there were other entrances for participants on the stage. Or maybe the next contestant was already out there, waiting behind a curtain. The security in this ce was reallycking. After the initial checks at the entrance to the music call, Tristan barely saw any. There were too few security cameras, too. If he wanted, Tristan could have begun breaking up all the instruments to clear his way to victory. He would not risk it, although the idea was tempting. Emboldened because he was alone, Tristan went right to the Valerian''s piano and inspected it. With his piano skills, and his music production skills, he knew enough to tell for sure that the electric piano was tampered with. Specifically, there was a program set up that yed a certain melody onmand. All Valerian had to do was pretend to y! Tristan smirked. He knew Valerian wasn''t THAT good. If he was ying on his own, in his clearly emotional state, half of the note timings would''ve been off. An anonymous tip to the jurymittee was going to get Valerian kicked not just out of this year''s contest, but out of all of them. A door opened, and a person stepped inside, forcing Tristan to step away from Valerian''s piano. It was the blond guy from the dressing room earlier, but Tristan would''ve never recognized him without putting so many points in his observation skill. He was wearing a bright silver wig that fell to his back, and his face was painted in bright theatrical makeup with purple lipstick and eyeshadow. There were alsovender glitter triangles on the man''s cheeks, making them look sharper. The rest of the costume was simr: very shiny, purple,vender, and silver, with highlights in ck. It was skin-tight on the chest, but with wide pants and sleeves. There was an electric guitar on his back, in the same style. The man looked like either a star of the disco, or an anime character¡­ Maybe like a disco star anime character. "Oh, what are you doing here, man?" he asked. "Waiting for your performance? I don''t think it''s going to be soon. The next one is a woman, and the one after is definitely not you." Music red loudly from the stage. "Really?" Tristan asked, gradually moving toward the exit. The glittery manughed. "Yeah, because that person is me!" Tristan rxed a little. The man didn''t suspect him of anything, clearly. "I was just hanging around," Tristan said. "And just leaving. You have a very striking costume, by the way." The man grinned. "Thanks! I designed it myself and¡ª" He was cut off by the opened door. A pair of people entered, and from a single look at them, Tristan knew they had no business whatsoever being here. For one, despite having beiges of stage workers, they looked and moved nothing like them. Also, Tristan spotted faint outlines of guns under their jackets. ''It looks like I was not the only one tempted to trim thepetition by messing with equipment. Or with thepetitors themselves,'' Tristan thought dryly. They paused at the entrance, then looked at the musicians and tsked. "You aren''t from the staff. Leave this ce, go wait in¡­ waiting room." The glittery man blinked. "What? The staff literally pointed me to wait here until my turn¡ª" He froze when one of the men pointed a gun at the two guitarists. It had a silencer on it, and Tristan knew that with the music ring outside, no one would hear a shot. "We told you to get the fuck out. Both of you! Clear? Get the fuck out and forget about winning thispetition. Otherwise, you will find yourself with broken fingers afterward! Or perhaps we won''t even wait to do it!" Chapter 40: How the tables have turned After the experience of the past two months, these thugs barely fazed him. The gun wasn''t even pointed directly at Tristan. "No fucking way!" "No chance." Tristan and the glittery guy spoke in unison, their words ovepping each other. Tristan chuckled at how unanimous they were. "You think that''s funny? This isn''t a toy, little boys!" the gun-wielding thug said, waving his weapon around. "Stay still and quiet! Hey, Rob, think we should tie them up before they call people in or something?" "Nah, just hold them at gunpoint for now." The glittery guy grit his teeth, but was frozen by a gun pointing at his head. Tristan waited, wondering what these two would do next. He had to be cautious with his identity, but soon enough, someone from the staff was about to enter the room. The thugs'' n was poorly thought-through. One of them approached Tristan, and thug''s hand reached for the handle of his guitar. "You won''t need that anymore, so give me your guitar!" He made two mistakes at once¡ªpissed Tristan off and gave him an opportunity to act. Tristan stepped aside, putting the thug between himself and the second one¡ªand suddenly HE was the one pointing a gun at the grabby thug! The man gasped in shock. In reflex, he reached for his own gun¡ªand gasped again when he felt only an empty pocket. The second thug moved to point his weapon on Tristan, but it was toote to stop him! Although Tristan was at gunpoint now, he only smirked. "Are you going to shoot me? What if your hand twitches and you hit your friend by ident? Scram, before I make more holes in you than in flutes!" "You! H-how did you steal my gun?!" Tristan was just that good. He aimed the gun at the closest thug''s head. His eyes were zing with determination to win, even if it meant walking over corpses. A willingness to kill that normal civilians didn''t have. The thugs stood frozen by that stony gaze. The strikingly handsome young man in front of them looked like a hardened killer at this moment. Cold sweat appeared on their foreheads and their hands began shaking. But they were too hardened to just retreat in this situation! "Police, hey, we are being attacked like, right now! Right in the music hall¡ªthere''s security here, but we can''t call them, it''s too loud outside!" Everybody looked at the glittery guy, who was talking into his phone. The faces of thugs shed with even panic "Fuck! He called the police! Why the hell didn''t you stop him from calling the police?! You should''ve been watching him!" "Shut up and move! We are getting away!" The thugs backed away to the door, the one with a gun never moving his weapon away from Tristan until the door closed behind them. Although they didn''t run in panic, they still fled like dogs with tails between their legs. [Ding!] [You have terrified 2 people. Reward: your PP increased by 20.] [Ding!] [You have impressed a person. Reward: your CP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Pickpocketing skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] Soon, their footsteps disappeared into the noiseing from the stage. "Aaaaah! That was so damn close!" the glittery guy shouted, iling his hands so hard that his phone flew away and onto the floor. "Aaaaaaaah, shit! Shit, my phone!" Tristan grimaced and began wiping the fingerprints off the gun with his shirt. Then he put the gun on the floor and kicked it away, where it could be someone else''s problem. Police would still hound him. They just always did. But then he nced in the glittery guy''s direction and let out a relieved chuckle. "You never actually called the police, did you?" The phone in the man''s hands¡ªthe screen was cracked, but lit¡ªwas showing an entirely different number on the screen. "Nooo, I know how that works. We would''ve gotten detained, and I have to perform after the next person! You were amazing out there, by the way. That acting¡ªyou could''ve been working in Hollywood, I swear." "I''m striving toward that, too." The glittery manughed (somewhat hysterically), then took a dozen deep breaths and calmed down. "So, what''s your name?" "Tristan Gemello. But just Tristan is fine." "I''m Nelson Mayar, but everybody just calls me Nel. Have to say, I thought you were kind of an asshole at first. But it looks like you were a cool asshole all that time." Tristan snorted. "For someone so determined topete, you are terribly nice towards yourpetition. Even ''assholes''." Nel shrugged. "I don''t like to discriminate. People are so unequal to each other all the time, and I feel like I should change that at least a little, you know? Although I don''t think even I have the patience for people who hurt me personally. Am not Jesus. Not even a saint. Just another sinner like all of us." Tristan tilted his head. The way Nel said that showed that it all sounded very personal to the man. Like he had been judged and discriminated against too many times for something, in the eyes of God or the people, and was sick of it. Tristan could rte. "If someone looks down upon you because of who you are, just show them the middle finger. And then break their knees." Tristan smiled, showing that he was joking about thetter (he wasn''t). Nelughed. "One doesn''t stop another!" The music from the outside quietened. The host began talking again, announcing the next performer, and Tristan''s ear caught a familiar name. "I have to go. See youter, Nel." He waved. "Sure thing. Watch my performance¡ªit''s gonna be lit!" Tristan nodded and rapidly left the room, heading toward the audience hall. On his way there, he opened the status panel. ''I suddenly got 150 Pop-star Points to spare¡­ Where will they benefit me the most?'' Chapter 41: What Tristan will compete against The audience hall was full, but there was a spot for Tristan to stand near the wall, from where he had a good view of the stage. Tristan settled there and opened his status panel. [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Vying Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Rook.] [Pop-star Points: 150] [Criminal Points: 2690] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 80] [Charisma: 40] [Fearsomeness: 44] [Strength: 222] [Dexterity: 227] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 657] [Dancing: 628] [ying guitar: 794] [Music theory: 279] [Music production: 521] [Acting: 412] [Songwriting: 532] [Voice control: 408] [Stage presence: 159] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [Sneaking: 843] [Close-quartersbat: 1023] [Observation: 907] [Driving: 116] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 611] [Athletics: 219] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [======] All his relevant skills were high. His stats, though¡­ Tristan frowned. ''15 extra points in charisma will definitely help me woo the judges.'' He made his decision and tapped the buttons. [Ding!] [Charisma attribute increased from 40 to 55.] He finished just in time to see the next performere out on stage to the apuse of the audience. Jane Greenpawl, another person on Tristan''s revenge list. She stepped out on stage and smiled at the audience and the jury, showing pearl-white teeth. With her doll-like features and an hourss figure, Jane was a picture of traditional beauty. ''Smile while you can, shallow bitch!'' Tristan thought. Jane was clueless about his anger. "I''m so happy to perform here tonight," she said into the microphone. "Thanks to this contest, my songs will reach the hearts of more people. As a singer, I can''t ask for more. So this song is called¡­ ''For Your Heart''." With this, slow music started ying from the speakers. Tristan knew perfectly well that Jane didn''t like ying instruments and was barely passable for any of them. Neither could she hope to dance in her long blue dress. However, even through his bitterness, Tristan had to admit that she was an excellent singer. Jane''s voice was powerful, high, and gentle. It flew over the audience like a golden thread that tied people''s attention firmly to Jane''s eyes. "Your eyes meet mine in the crowd, And my heartbeat bes so loud¡­" She looked at the audience and smiled again with love in her eyes. It was a smile directed at no one in particr, but at the same time, Jane made it look like she was smiling at everyone in the audience at once. Although Tristan was at the very edge of the audience hall, he felt like Jane was ncing at him from the corner of her eyes. It was a truly powerful acting trick! At that moment, Tristan could almost hear hearts of men in the audience and the jury beat faster as they became enthralled by the promise of Jane''s love. It was painfully reminiscent of the time Tristan and Jane spent together. Although back then, she wasn''t as good at these acting tricks, Tristan remembered her looking at him like that. He grit his teeth. Tristan knew that the golden threads were nothing but a fishing line, and Jane was a beautiful, bright and fake lure! "I never knew someone could shine so bright, Pulling me closer with every step tonight." With each verse, Jane''s song reeled people in more and more. Her stage presence was truly strong, and the lyrics of her song made it look like it was addressed to everyone who heard it. Tristan could see past the surface, though. Her song was incredibly banal, and so was her melody. She didn''t have anything except the song in her performance. Compared to modern pop performances it was quite underwhelming. But would the judges see it, too? Most of them were men. And men were all too easily swayed by the beauty of women, which Tristan knew from personal experience. With a dark expression, Tristan watched as Jane finished her song and bowed to the audience. The audience followed her leave from the stage with overwhelming apuse, and a few judges¡ªwith dreamy looks. The host stepped on the stage again. "And the nextpetitor is from much humbler origins than Ms. Greenpawl. A simple vige boy, he went to the big city in search of sess and fame, but will he seed in finding it? Wee Nelson Mayar!" Nel appeared on the stage in his loud and shiny outfit, grinning and waving at the audience. The apuse for him was already much weaker than it was for Jane, yet Nel didn''t seem dejected. Compared to her fake face, Nel''s genuineness was incredibly refreshing. Even if he looked like an anime character with his bright silver wig. Actually, even anime characters usually weren''t that colorful and shiny. "I''m so d to see you all here!" Nel told the audience before his performance. "It''s so GREAT to just be near people who understand all the getup, you know?" He gestured at himself andughed. "Anyway, here''s the song! I called it ''Jester Jester''." Nel hit the guitar chords, and from the first seconds, Tristan could say that he had talent, but was probably mostly self-taught. It showed in hisck of proper technique and the way he handled the guitar. Normally, this would be something to look down at¡­ But somehow, Nel made it work! Like a newbie swordsman who scares off a master by sheer unpredictability of his actions, Nel strung a song out of chords that Tristan wouldn''t have never have thought to put together on sober head. Nel hit the strings, shook his head, making the silver hair fly all over the ce, and sometimes he even hit the guitar to create a beat. Tristan was ready to bet that some notes he yed were pure improvisation. The melody was utterly wild, and Nel didn''t even start singing yet. The pure and unconstrained creativity of it captured Tristan so much that he didn''t realize that Nel spent more than half a minute just not singing. At this point, Tristan began thinking the song was purely instrumental. However, Nel proved him wrong, and also showed that he wasn''t done with surprising people. Chapter 42: Janes secret From the first words, Tristan immediately knew that this song was personal to Nel. Not all great songs were made from personal inspirations, but Tristan believed that the best art was made with passion, and passion was born because the artist cared about whatever he was describing. This was an example of passion. "Things fall apart in my hands, As I keep grasping at straws. Laugh,ugh,ugh y''all! I''m the joke, the big buffoon!" At this line, Nel suddenly spun in a circle, never stopping ying, and let out a breath ofughter. "But why cry when you can y? Dance on the edge of a big mistake. The life''s a theater, and I''m the clown Yeah, yeah, yeah, but I''m owning it!" Nel hit the strings again and began on the guitar solo, even more wild than the previous one. The man was sweating visibly from exertion and the heat from the spotlights, but ying like his life depended on it. When the song wasplete and Nel bowed to the audience, Tristan apuded with the rest of the audience hall. He had to respect this man as an artist. If Janepeted with feminine wiles, Nel had pure talent. The judges noticed it too. "This young man¡­ His style is very bold. Risky, but incredibly catching." "This is the type of the diamond in the rough that talent agencies love to snatch." "Yes, I''m sure he will get a few offers of work after today. But will he reach the next round of thepetition?" "He has good chances, I''d say¡­" Tristan pressed his lips together. He was still sure of his skills, but even with them, he couldn''t deny the probability of a failure. In this moment, Tristan noticed several people from the music hall''s security team move around the edges of the audience hall. He tensed. They seemed to not be looking for him, so Tristan let himself rx a little. Someone must''ve noticed the dropped gun¡ªor perhaps Nel got to tell the security about what had happened. Either way, Tristan decided to leave the audience hall before anyone got questions for him. ''It won''t hurt to check my makeup again in the dressing room.'' Tristan''s makeup was rtively light, but he still had eyeliner that could get smudged. No one paid attention to him as Tristan went toward the dressing rooms. Even now, the ce had plenty of people moving around as other contestants checked themselves up before or after their performances. Tristan even noticed Jane''s helper¡ªCarlos, wasn''t it?¡ªwalking hurriedly down the hallway. At first, Tristan didn''t think twice about him, besides wondering where Jane went. But a couple of secondster, Tristan realized that the direction Carlos went in was really strange. By now, Tristan had a rough map of the music hall in his head. He could tell that Carlos wasn''t going either toward the waiting room, the stage, or the dressing rooms. He also looked strangely agitated. Curious, Tristan turned on his heels and stalked after Carlos, who was going toward the currently unused and empty part of the music hall. Tristan''s footsteps were entirely silent, and he took care to stay behind a corner whenever he could. However, Carlos didn''t bother turning around. A short whileter, he entered a seemingly random room and closed the door behind with a bang. Tristan approached the door, wondering if he could peek inside the room somehow, when he heard a voice from the inside. Although Carlos tried to speak quietly, his anger made his whispers very loud anyway. "The security is crawling all over the ce¡­ What the hell have you done?!" Tristan''s eyes widened. He hurriedly pulled out his phone and set it to record the sound, hoping that the microphone would catch the conversation from the other side. After whatever reply from the other side, Carlos continued ranting. "You had one job, and you couldn''t even do that right! I swear, if Ms. Greenpawl doesn''t win this round, both of you will¡­ how do you, mafia people, say it? Feed the fishes? Swim in concrete shoes?" Another pause. "Forget it! Just get the hell out before you implicate us! And I don''t care what you call yourselves. I pay you, so I can call you whatever I want!" After one more pause, Tristan heard a sound of footsteps. Carlos finished talking and was about to leave the room! Tristan froze, looking around for cover. However, this was something he didn''t think through¡ªthe hallway was going in a straight direction for a while. The nearest corner and the nearest other door were too far to reach in time! At that moment, Tristan dove for the only cover remaining and froze there, absolutely silent and unmoving. Carlos pushed the door open with irritation and stomped outside. Still oblivious to anyone''s presence, he went back toward the stage. When his footsteps disappeared in the distance, Tristan let out a breath of relief and stepped from his cover. [Ding!] [Sneaking skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Observation skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] That cover was just the other side of the door that Carlos had pushed open! Out in the open, he was immediately assaulted by a pair of notifications, which Tristan habitually dismissed. ''That was fucking close¡­ Did I get anything good from it, at least?'' Tristan checked his phone recording. Although his phone was cheap, the hallway was pretty quiet, and the voice carried. Besides, Tristan had it pressed right into the door. To his relief, it was actually possible to discern Carlos'' words, if barely. Tristan smirked. ''Jane is so unsure of herself that she hires thugs to thin thepetition? How pathetic.'' This wasn''t hard evidence against Carlos and Jane that would work in court, but it was still a powerful tool in his hands! However, Tristan didn''t have the time to use it just yet. He went toward the dressing rooms. By Tristan''s estimate, his own performance was going to begin in half an hour or so. He didn''t have all the time in the world to waste. Chapter 43: Tristan awes everyone, and I mean EVERYONE When a staff member ushered Tristan toward the stage, he was ready. A bit anxious, but no one had to see it. His hair was brushed and fixed with hair spray, his makeup was perfect, and his ck vinyl jacket shone lightly in the lights. Just in case, he checked that the small microphone hanging from his ear was fixed tightly. "Wee the nextpetitor¡ªTristan Gemello! He prefers to stay quiet about his origins, surrounding himself in the air of mystery. But he certainly won''t be quiet on the stage!" Tristan walked from behind the curtain, past the host, and toward the middle of the stage. The moment spotlights hit his figure, the audience began apuding in greeting. For this performance, Tristan dressed in a ck vinyl jacket thrown on top of a simple white shirt. His jeans were just as simple, except for the several dozen metal bits in them that sparkled in the light. And his sneakers were ck, with tongues of fire drawn on their bottoms. They made it look like Tristan was walking on fire. Although every individual piece of clothing Tristan chose for this performance was simple, and his makeup was rtively light, the overall impression was still dazzling! Tristan''s costume had just enough shine to catch eyes without blinding, and then Tristan''s charm and appearance did the rest of the work. He waved his hand to the audience and grinned, bathing in the attention. From head to toe, Tristan was a picture of ease, walking with an air of utter self-confidence that he spent hours practicing in the mirror (even with the points he spent on his acting skill). Nothing charmed people like confidence. "Hello, everybody! I hope you aren''t tired from all the performances yet. But I sure won''t waste more of your energy on boring words. You came here for music, so you will get¡­ music!" Tristan hit the strings of his guitar, making it shout in excitement and charge the audience with the same feeling. The people in the audience hall all had seen plenty of aspiring stars already, and were, indeed, tired. But the energy Tristan''s introduction exuded still woke them up a little. Even the juries, who had seen plenty in their lives, leaned forward in their seats slightly. "This is ''Dragonfly''!" Tristan announced and began to y. The notes and riffs of his song came to him like second nature after all the practice. His fingers danced on the strings with incredible dexterity, reaching the heights of inhuman precision that Valerian achieved by cheating. When he sang the words, it was with the same passion that Nel put into his lyrics. It was the passion that came from the heart and showed in the way Tristan moved around the stage in the rhythm of his own music. And although Tristan didn''t single anyone out with his gaze, his confidence reeled people in as well as Jane''s tricks! It was a confidence Tristan projected with his every movement and action. In all centuries of history, people always followed confident leaders, prophets, kings¡ªanyone who could give them the direction and confidence theycked. Tristan''s appearance told to anyone that he was going to do whatever he wanted, and nothing and no one could sway him off his path. People in the audience were breathless as they watched Tristan''s performance. The judges watched with widened eyes. And then the first chorus verse came, and Tristan began dancing in the earnest. Even if his hands were taken by guitar, his legs were still free! "Dark and below, I am no more! Find the light, break the night! Take flight!" He spun energetically, then jumped high in the air as if taking off into flight, andnded in a low crouch, only to spring up again. And all that without breaking the song or the melody for a single moment. The audience gasped, shocked and enthralled. "I soar toward ss dreams, Dragonfly!" And when Tristan sang it, many people in the audience were so caught by this, that they shouted "Dragonfly!" together with him like they were at an actual rock-concert. [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 303 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 300!] [Ding!] [You had impressed 13 people of high skill with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] [Ding!] [You had awed and enthralled a person with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 100!] At this very moment, many other contestants watched the performance from the screen in the waiting room or from the audience hall. Among them was a beautiful woman with doll-like features, wearing a blue dress¡ªJane. She had recognized the young man on the stage immediately as the person who saved her on the stairs. Even back then, she recognized how strong and charming he was. But now, watching his performance from the waiting room, she couldn''t stop her heart from beating faster. Even though Gemello was rude to her earlier, Jane began thinking that he had good reasons for it. With a handsome face and an incredible charm like his, surely girls fell into his arms on a daily basis. He was probably annoyed by it at this point! Jane sighed dreamily. So what if they were rivals? This was just some smallpetition where she went because she wanted bragging rights. Jane already almost forgot about her original desire to get the prize and show off before her peers. She already decided that after thepetition, she wille up to Tristan and introduce herself properly and try to seduce him. In her mind, after he saw her performance that bewitched many men in the past, there was no way for him to ignore her like before. At the moment, Tristan himself was blissfully oblivious to Jane''s thoughts, or that he was observed by her at all. Only the Second Identity System''s notification hinted at it, but Tristan paid it no mind. Even when he finished ying the song, he was still reeling from the high of performing on stage in front of all these people. As soon as he hit thest chord, the audience began apuding thunderously. Whatever the juries wanted to say about him was drowned in the sound, which followed Tristan for some while even after he left the stage. And there, he immediately stumbled into Nel. Chapter 44: Tristan has to deal with some pests for good Nel grinned from ear to ear and pumped his fist in the air. His wig and costume were off and reced by a head of shaggy blond hair and casual "vige pumpkin" clothing, but his makeup stayed contrastingly glittery. "Man, this was awesome! I wish I actually watched it, and didn''t just listen, though¡ªI swear, I will watch the recordings of it. Bet after tonight you will go on TV, Tristan!" Tristan leaned back slightly, but soon recovered and grinned, preening from the praise. "Your song was extraordinary, too. If I wasn''t there, you surely would''ve deserved the victory. Too bad we arepeting in the same city." Nelughed at Tristan''s humor, making Tristanugh together, and pulled Tristan away from the stage and toward a quieter hallway. When he turned toward Tristan again, he was as serious as a rock. "It''s a wonder California didn''t sink under the weight of your smugness yet. But I didn''te here to just congratte you! Well, that too, but¡ªUgh. Listen, I saw these two again!" Tristan frowned. It clicked a momentter. "The thugs? They are still here? The security''s been up on their ears even if performances went as usual." Nel nodded. "I¡­ Well, after all that, I didn''t want to hang around. The award ceremony is tomorrow, anyway. But as soon as I went to the parking lot¡ªthere they were! Just hanging around like nothing was wrong in the world! Jesus." "They didn''t notice you?" "No, thank God. Maybe they wouldn''t have recognized me if not for the makeup¡­ I was toozy to take that off, too¡­ Anyway, Tristan, you can''t leave through there. That''s what I came to tell you. We have to avoid them somehow! Maybe even actually call the police¡­" Tristan nodded. "The warning is appreciated," he said with deep honesty. Nel wasn''t obliged to help him. Even when Tristan helped him out before, it was to save his own skin as well. Now Tristan was thinking about what to do about the two pests. He could change identities and walk out calmly. He even had a change of clothing fitting his Hayes identity. However, after Nel''s effort to warn Tristan, he couldn''t just leave him on his own. "Don''t call the police. If they don''t see the thugs pointing guns at us, I bet these two will slip away. They look like the type who knows how to." If they weren''t ready for risks, they wouldn''t have stayed around for so long, waiting to deal with witnesses. "Then what are we going to do?" Nel asked. "Maybe¡­ sneak out from the back? Ah, damn, there are iron bars on all the first-floor windows, so that won''t work¡­" "I know someone who can help us." Tristan was absentmindedly toying with his left ear, which currently didn''t have the earring. Right now, it was hanging from the thin chain he wore under the shirt. "Really? Someone who''s not the police? That kinda sounds even more illegal, you know?" Tristan chuckled. "I guess. But he can make sure these two won''t give us any more trouble. I will have to go out to meet him on my own, though. You should wait here until I give you the signal that it''s all clear. What''s your phone number?" Nel blinked, but recited it from memory. Tristan smirked and patted his shoulder before giving the other young man a slightly threatening gaze. Slightly. "Don''t go out until then, and don''t worry about me. The less you know, the more usible deniability you have, get it?" Nel nodded, dumbfounded. This all was shady as fuck. Normally, he''d never just obey amand like that. Normally, he''d already be calling the police, even if he didn''t trust it much. Yet Tristan''s attitude inspired trust, despite still being shady as fuck. It was paradoxical, but Nel didn''t overthink it¡ªhe just epted it as a fact. "I will wait here. And then we can celebrate getting through that mess with burgers, whatcha think?" Tristan chuckled. "Deal." *** Tristan walked to the parking lot dressed as Tristan Hayes, leaving his Gemello things stashed in a dressing room. People were alreadying and going, but the ce was so spacious that there still was some privacy if you hid between the rows of cars. He soon spotted the duo Nel had talked about. They sat in a car with tinted windows. However, one of them was smoking and opened the window, letting Tristan see what was happening inside. Both of them were scanning the surroundings. The ce they parked at was in the view of the music hall''s entrance, but slightly off¡ªaway enough for some privacy. ''Time to go and kill two¡­ no, three birds with one stone.'' Tristan walked up past their car, acting like just a person walking somewhere past and only coincidentally getting close. These two still had at least one gun, after all. But when he was only a couple of steps away from the cigarette smoker, Tristan suddenly lunged forward. He crossed the distance like lightning. One moment, they were just looking for the two troublesome loose ends, and the next moment Tristan grabbed the smoker''s head and pressed a knife to his throat. The cigarette fell onto the asphalt. "What the¡ª!" "Shh," Tristan cut the thugs off. "You don''t want to shout and attract anyone''s attention to the illegal weapons you have, hm? If you want to keep your buddy''s skin whole, be quiet and don''t move." "Who are you, bastard?! What do you want" the hostage asked frantically. A tighter press of the knife to his throat made him do it quietly. "A friend of someone you crossed today," Tristan said. He expertly held the hostage with one hand while unlocking the car door with another. Covering the scene with his body from anyone who could walk past, Tristan pulled the hostage with him to the back seat of the car and closed it. Now the tinted windows of the car protected Tristan from anyone who saw. He grinned. "So. You had one chance, exactly one chance to leave in one piece. Now¡­ Have you heard about Mr. Andrew Pierce?" Chapter 45: Dealing with pests creates more questions The thugs, clueless, shook their heads. By this point Tristan was almost sure that they were either lowest-rank gangsters, or independent mercenaries¡ªnot someone with enough reach to know people like Pierce. It didn''t matter. "I just thought that after he gave me a day off like that, I could bring him a souvenir after all. It''s not like anyone will miss you two." "Huh?!" The thug that Tristan held at knife point tried to sneakily reach for the gun in his jacket. Tristan moved faster, hitting his temple with the handle of his knife and knocking the man out. [Ding!] [Close-quartersbat skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] The man fell like a tree, and Tristan grinned. The other thug had pulled a gun¡ªof course they had spares¡ªbut didn''t have the time to aim. Tristan was on him in an instant, reaching between the car seats and stabbing the knife into the man''s right wrist. Tristan''s other hand mped over the man''s mouth, muffling his cry of pain. Next thing, Tristan pulled out the knife and turned the thug around, mming his face into the headboard with the crunch of a broken nose. Now he was bleeding over the car, and not on Tristan. Holding the thug down with one hand, Tristan pulled out a phone with another and began recording. "Who sent you to threaten the singers?" "Why¡ªWhy the fuck you ca¡ªhrk!" Tristan pulled the knife out of the man''s arm. The wound was so narrow, it barely bled. "I''m asking the questions here. Who?" [Ding!] [You have terrified a person. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] "P-please! I will tell, I will tell! His name was Carlos Monfish. He¡­ He''s the bodyguard of that hot singer, Greenpawl!" "A bodyguard?" Tristan raised his eyebrows. He thought Carlos was just some hired help. Jane acted this way, at least. "Yes! I think! I don''t know more! We were just hired to help her out, you know, push forward the right people! Fuckers should''ve not been so greedy and just paid the judges like everybody else does." Tristan scowled. "I heard enough." The other thug began stirring in the back seat already. The concussion Tristan gave him was really mild. Now he stabbed the thug he held down at the back of the neck and upward, going for the brain. With a brief gasp, he went deathly still, and Tristan finished the other thug in the same manner. He checked his system notifications, then his clothes. There was some blood, but it was mostly unnoticeable. Tristan hesitated for a moment, then leaned over a thug and cut off his ear, wincing slightly when he saw how much grime was inside of it. He carefully wrapped it in a piece of one of their shirts so it wouldn''t bleed all over and stuffed the trophy in his pocket. Pierce was a sicko, but if this will give Tristan more favor with him, it was worth a small bother. Finally, he cleaned up and hid the knife, then left the car, brushing the door handles with his sleeve just in case. It would probably be a while before anyone noticed the bodies inside, and Tristan doubted the cops will look hard into this all after they realize who the killed men were. Outside, people stayed as unaware of the double murder inside of it as before. Smiling softly to himself, Tristan went back to the music hall, typing a message from his Gemello phone on the go. [Nel, that''s Tristan. The coast is clear. You can wait outside, I will be back in 30m or so.] The reply was almost immediate. [thankgod!!! be there as soon as I can] *** Back in the music hall. Jane looked around the emptying audience hall in frustration. The contestants weren''t forced to stay until all the performances were over, but she didn''t see Gemello leave at all! Now she had looked around the waiting room and the audience hall, and would''ve peeked into the men''s dressing rooms if it wasn''t so desperate and creepy. Really! People usually looked for her, not the other way around! But Jane wanted to see Gemello and talk to him, and she wanted it NOW. Just like she wanted most other things. Carlos approached her side. He was frowning over something, but Jane didn''t care about his mood. "Ms. Greenpawl, everybody is leaving. We should return home, too. Your parents will be eager to hear about your performance." Jane huffed and red at him. He was just a hired servant in their family house, whom her father ordered to help Jane when she dered wanting to perform in the contest. Although Jane knew Carlos for a while, she never liked him much. There was something off about him. "So what? They can wait. Don''t hurry me!" She looked around the audience hall once again and suppressed a sigh. With reluctance, Jane began walking toward the exit. "When we get home, I want my golden dress prepared for tomorrow''s reward ceremony. Got it?" "Yes, Ms. Greenpawl." ''Everybody is required toe to the award ceremony. I will definitely see Tristan there,'' Jane thought dreamily. ''With him, I will have two boyfriends named Tristan¡­ Isn''t that funny? You''d think it''d be more probable that I will have two boyfriends named Jack or Bob¡­'' *** Like promised, Tristan returned to the parking lot half an hourter, in Gemello identity and different, clean clothing. Most of the time was spent sneaking around to change identity in a toilet and pick his bags. Nel¡ªnow without makeup, too¡ªwaved at him from the exit of the music hall. "Tristan! You are there! Was¡­ Well, everything went well, right?" He eyed the outside warily. "I still see their car out there¡­" "It''s alright. They aren''t there," Tristan lied smoothly. "I said that they won''t bother us again, so they won''t." Nel rxed immediately. "Great! So, you are a local, right? This is about my second or third time in this city." "I can show you the best joints, then. Cooking is bothersome, so I eat out a lot." "What are you waiting for, then? Let''s move! Nothing like a big dinner after an exhausting day." Tristan smiled, temporarily forgetting that he had a cut off ear hidden in one of his bags. Several hourster, after a fun outing with Nel¡ªTristan found that he kinda missed socializing¡ªTristan put the ear in his freezer and forgot about it for several more hours. Instead, all his worries were about the winner of this round of the contest. The results were going to be dered in two more days. Two days, which were going to pass like no time at all. Chapter 46: A useful talent for the future Next early morning. With all the excitement of yesterday, Tristan only now had time and power to check his notifications. Although he didn''t need to sleep anymore, he still needed time to unwind, which he did by doing household chores and surfing the Web. At some point, he increased his charisma again, earning even more Criminal Points. Now he had 4190 of them in total. ''Time to check if there''s something new and interesting in the system shop.'' [======] [===Shop===] [''Clean Hands'' talent: 4000 Criminal Points] [ying violin skill: 10 Pop-star Points.] [Logistics skill: 10 Criminal Points.] [A dose of truth serum: 1500 Criminal Points] [======] There sure was. Excited, Tristan checked what the talent did. [Clean Hands: blood doesn''t stick to your body and clothing. You also don''t leave fingerprints, unless you want to.] Tristan''s eyes lit up. He didn''t hesitate a moment before buying the talent. It was worth its Criminal Points! ''As for the truth serum, beating people up has worked out for me so far.'' After this, Tristan returned to his usual routine. Pierce only gave him one day off, and today he actually got a text message with a name and address of another person who crossed Pierce''s way. Another routine job, which Tristan did in a couple of hours, busting the face of the pitiful druggie until his mother wouldn''t recognize him and taking the money he stole from a business under Pierce''s ''protection''. The ''Clean Hands'' talent worked perfectly. Blood flowed off Tristan like it was water and he was covered in oil! All he needed after dealing with the target was shaking his hands and jacket a little and he was clean again. And like Tristan expected, Pierce was disturbingly happy to see the frozen ear he brought from yesterday together with his money. So much so, he even gave Tristan a $200 bonus just for today''s mission. ''What a creep,'' Tristan thought, packaging the money. *** Next day. Luckily, the day of the award ceremony was Saturday, so Tristan didn''t have to worry about work. At least, Tristan Gemello. Tristan Hayes still had to warn Pierce about being busy that day. "That''s alright. But bring me another souvenir next time you have the opportunity, Hayes. An eye for an eye, you know?" Tristan still cringed inwardly from remembering this shitty joke. For the ceremony, Tristan dressed the same way did for his performance. Upon entering the music hall, he immediately saw Nel approaching him. Like Tristan, Nel put on his stage outfit for today¡ªat least some of it. He had the silver wig and a dramatic makeup on, but his clothes were contrastingly casual T-shirt and jeans. "Tristan! Hey, long time no see!" Tristan grinned in greeting. "You were just sending me memes yesterday, though." "That''s not the same," Nel shook his head and fell into step next to Tristan. "By the way, have you heard the news already? The piano genius turned out to be the piano average person! Frank Valerian was kicked out of this and all future contests for cheating." Tristan raised his brows, faking surprise. "Really?" Nel nodded and bbered all about the anonymous tip (which Tristan sent) about his music, and how the jurymittee analyzed the recording of the performance and noticed that Valerian''s movements were slightly not in sync with the music. "Well, that''s lesspetition for us. Though it makes me wonder how many other cheaters there are," Tristan mused. "Or that someone might have bribed the judges." Nel snorted. "Bribed? I don''t think most peoplepeting are rich enough for these people. This is just a statepetition, after all¡­ Not the Oscars." Tristan nodded. He thought about it, too. The judges were all either small-time celebrities (still rich enough that even the cash prize for the contest''s finale wasn''t good enough for them), or people from musicbels and talent agencies. They resumed walking toward the audience hall, from where they will watch the announcement of the results. On the way there, Tristan spotted Jane in the crowd, wearing a flowing golden dress. His eyes narrowed. Tristan didn''t send the recordings he had of the thugs and Carlos anywhere yet. He didn''t think he''d need to. Instead, he kept it as a trump card, just in case. One way or another, Jane''s days of leisure were counting to a close. Soon, she would taste the misery Tristan felt when he was abandoned in the hospital room. As if feeling his eyes on her, Jane turned and saw Tristan. Her eyes widened, and her face lit up with happiness. Tristan turned away and went to a free seat, with Nel taking one next to him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jane trying to find a seat close to him, but all the other seats nearby were already taken. She was forced to sit where she could, pouting all the while. About fifteen minutester, when everybody hade to the hall and sat down, the lights in the hall turned off. A momentter, they turned on again, hitting the host, who stood in the middle of the stage. Several cameras who recorded this moment for TV turned toward him, while others stayed directed at the audience, catching reactions of people present. "Wee again to the Californian Young Star contest, spectators and future stars! It''s time to apud our amazing juries, who spent thest two days thinking again and again about who deserves to win the most!" When the audience stopped apuding, the host continued. "Which of all the talented people sitting in front of me will go topete in Los Angeles in the finale of thispetition, and who will leave with only conciliatory certificates?" Nel leaned forward in his seat. Tristan forced himself to stay rxed. ''Anxiety is for weak people. It only makes you perform worse, no matter what you do. I resolved to be strong, so I can''t be anxious¡­ Can''t show anxiety, at least!'' "And the third ce in ourpetition, is given to¡­" Chapter 47: Winners of the first round "And the third ce in ourpetition is given to someone who fits the title of a ''young star'' the most, for he is young, but definitely a star¡ªEvan Delgado! Please,e to the stage!" Evan was a Hispanic American teenager, apanied by his mother, since he was too young to participate without a legal guardian. Tristan had missed his performance entirely because of all the things that happened during thepetition, but he still apuded the teen together with the other people in the audience. Evan beamed at the audience, thanked everybody in a voice that was shaking with emotion, jumped and waved the award certificate given by the host, and eventually went off the stage. The host pulled out another award certificate and made a show of reading it. "The second ce today belongs to the most creative and wild performer of this round of the contest. A person who stunned the juries with his pure talent¡­ Nelson Mayar!" Nel gasped and jumped in his seat to the sound of apuse. His eyes became round and big as dinner tes. "No way! That''s¡ªThat''s me! No waaaaay¡­" Tristan poked him in the side. "Wake up! Go on stage and show off some more while you are allowed to!" "Right!" Nel hurried to the stage, and Tristan watched him with a grin and his own apuse. But not everybody was happy for the guy. Jane sat tense in her seat. With the third and second ce taken¡­ Will that mean that the first spot was hers? Or Tristan''s? Both options didn''t satisfy her! She was fine with having one of the two honorary spots, as long as Tristan also had one. Then they''d be on equal footing. They''d have something inmon to start a romantic rtionship with. Now she wasn''t sure who was going to win, and whom she WANTED to win. On the stage, Nel took his certificate and raised it high in the air. "Thank you, thank you to everybody who watched me, and every judge who voted for me! I know that someone will think ''this is just second ce, not much to be happy about'', but I will focus only on the good things today! There are so many talented and skilled people who didn''t even pass the preliminaries, and here I am!" With these words, Nel bowed to the people present and returned to his seat. He was visibly shaking at this point. In the audience, people cheered for him and his genuine and charismatic attitude. Nel gave Tristan a wide-eyed grin. "Only one ce left. That''s gonna be you, I''m sure. We will be next-ce buddies!" Tristan nodded. "Sure." Although his posture stayed rxed, he curled his toes in his shoes in nervous anticipation. Jane still could win. Or even someone else¡­ There were other notable performances beyond just Tristan''s, Nel''s, Jane''s and Valerian''s. "And the first ce in the first round of this city''s Californian Young Star Competition belongs to someone who embodies every talent a future star needs. The talent, the skill, the charisma and the confidence¡ªhe has it all, and upon seeing his performance, even the most experienced people on the jurymittee were stunned. Please,e up to the stage¡­ Tristan Gemello!" As soon as the words sounded, Tristan was assaulted by the sound of apuse and notifications. [Ding!] [You have won the 1st spot in the first round of the Californian Young Star contest in your city. Your status has increased. Reward: your CP increased by 2000!] [Ding!] [Your Pop-star rank has changed from Vying Young Star to Tiny Young Star! Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] "Yeah! You did it!" Nel shouted, thenughed just as genuinely as when he was cheering for himself. Smiling broadly, Tristan walked to the stage and took his award certificate. His eyes scanned the audience in reflex. Jane was staring at Tristan in awe. In this moment, she couldn''t even bring herself to be too sore about losing, although the second and third spots certainly deserved their ces less than her in Jane''s mind. Tristan''s smile was too enchanting. Other women in the audience had a simr reaction when they saw Tristan''s confident appearance. Although Tristan wasn''t as handsome as Hollywood stars, the confident and alluring aura he exuded made up for it. And not only women, men couldn''t look away from Tristan too, caught up in that aura. They were smiling and cheering for him even more than for Nel. Tristan took the award certificate from the host, and the second microphone from the stand on the stage. "I''m so happy right now, and no one can say that I have little to be happy about, ha-ha! Now I wish other participants to not give up just from this loss and keep striving toward their goals, whatever those are. Eventually, luck will shine on you, too!" Although Tristan had prepared his speech to make a good impression on the audience, the sentiment was genuine. The luck had shined on him, after all. And when it did, he didn''t squander that chance. When Tristan left the stage, he felt as jittery as Nel looked. However, the host wasn''t done yet. "And thest, but not exactly the least¡­ is the Audience Choice Award. To the most beautiful, most charming and most soul-catching singer of thepetition¡ªJane Greenpawl!" Tristan''s mood dampened a notch. Jane, however, brightened. Shining like a coin, she walked to the stage and took her certificate. "I deeply thank everybody who voted for me! To know that your presence leaves an impression on someone else is the most heady feeling. And I hope that all the people who impressed and inspired me know that feeling, too¡­" Jane''s eyes fell on Tristan and she smiled dazzlingly. She was doing the acting trick that made it look like she was looking at everybody at once, but Tristan knew she was looking directly at him. His eyes widened when he saw the adoration in Jane''s gaze. Even before this, Tristan nned to meet with Jane after the award ceremony. But not knowing it, Jane just gave him a sharp dagger to wield. He couldn''t wait. Chapter 48: Every small fry wants to talk with the winner Half an hourter. There was an officially organized party after the award ceremony, made mostly so that journalists and talent agents could speak with the contest participants without catching them in the music hall corners. It was set in another hall of the building,rge enough to fit a hundred people and tables with mediocre finger-foods. The only alcohol was champagne, and it wasn''t enough to smooth the social awkwardness between people. By Tristan''s standards, the party was incrediblyme. Good thing he was here for business. As soon as Tristan stepped foot in the hall, he was approached by a journalist wielding a notepad and a fake smile. Behind him, a few more people were already making a line of people who wanted to talk with Tristan, all of them pushing Nel away. "Mr. Gemello! Congrattions on your victory, you certainly deserved it. I''m Ethan Ramirez, a journalist working for the ''The Weekly Messenger'' newspaper. Can I ask you a couple of questions?" The journalist didn''t even have a camera. ''He must be from a pretty small newspaper. I never heard about it, for a start. But publicity is publicity!'' Tristan smiled charmingly. "Of course, Mr. Ramirez. Nel, sorry, I have to feed the sharks, you know," he chuckled, pointing at the journalists. This brought the attention of some of them to him. "Oh, we''d like to talk with Mr. Mayar as well," one of them said. "If you don''t mind?" Nel beamed. "With pleasure! Hell, who DOESN''T like to talk about themselves, am I right?" The journalists asked very simple, boring questions. Like ''Where do youe from?'' and ''What inspires your music''. Tristan answered them with his practiced bad boy charm, while keeping the information about his past to himself. Eventually, the journalist narrowed his eyes like a predator on the hunt. "I feel you are evading the questions about your past, Mr. Gemello. Could it be¡­ that you have something to hide?" Unfazed, Tristan chuckled, put a finger to his lips, and winked yfully. "What can I say¡­ it''s a secret." In the background crowd of people who were not-so-subtly watching the interview from afar, several women sighed dreamily and swooned. Jane was one of them, although she swooned only internally. Frustrated with Tristan, but unable to push further, the journalist and his peers left Tristan and Nel to talk with other people. In their ce came different people. They weren''t sniffing, but their eyes were sharp. Talent agents and musicbel agents. Several of them offered their contacts to Tristan, which he epted gracefully, but without agreeing on anything yet. He just got a pocketful of business cards. They tried to cajole Nel into signing a contract, too, and would''ve been more sessful if Tristan didn''t interfere. "Nel, don''t hurry to sign a contract with any of these ces," he said, ignoring the frown on the face of the agent who heard Tristan. "These people prey on inexperienced people like you. Sign a contract without preparation, and you will end up working for them for pennies." "Mr. Gemello, this is nder! Maybe some talent agencies have an unsavory reputation like this, but ''Shining Artist Agency'' treats all their artists fairly." Tristan carefully studied the man, picking at the slightest signs of lies: the trembling of the man''s eyshes, the slight sheen of sweat on his temples, the twitch of his fingers. He was very skilled in saying that lie. Tristan half-shrugged and smirked, saying nothing. Nel looked at him, then at the talent agent. "Thank you for your offer, mister. It''s very ttering, but I really should think about everything before I ept anything." The talent agent could do nothing but nod and give his business card. After he left, Nel turned to Tristan. "Thank you for the hint, man." He sighed. "I was so excited that these people offered me a job¡ªI have to ept it, that''s why I came to this city in the first ce! But I don''t want to make a mistake in signing a wrong contract. You¡­ you are so savvy in all this, I''m really lucky to have you helping me. Have you worked with a talent agency before, Tristan?" "No, but I know people who did. And I heard some stories. Anyway, can you cover for me a bit?" Tristan gestured at some other people who visibly wanted to talk with him. These people were mostly other contestants, and not someone Tristan was interested in at the moment. Nel understood what he meant and grinned. "Sure, man. Have a good time!" With these words Nel went to intercept anyone who wanted to chat with Tristan, while Tristan himself went to search for Jane. As expected, she didn''t go far. If anything, she was pretending to not watch Tristan all that time, while talking with journalists and talent agents herself. However, when Tristan approached her, she immediately began smiling flirtatiously at him. "Ms. Greenpawl. Did I imagine it, or were you looking at me just now?" "Mr. Gemello! Ah¡­ you didn''t imagine it." Jane faked bashfulness. "It''s hard to look away from you. To be honest, ever since you helped me on the stairs that morning, I never thanked you properly. If I fell from these stairs¡­ I could''ve broken a bone, or several! Besides¡­ I think you are a very intriguing man." Tristan smiled at her, as if ttered. It looked effortless, but was anything but, because Tristan wanted to smirk evilly instead. "That was nothing. I could carry you for much longer than a moment, Ms. Greenpawl, you know?" Tristan jokingly flexed his biceps. "But I''d love to talk with you more. With how many people were staring at you, as if hypnotized, I feel lucky that you find me intriguing." Jane looked at Tristan from under her eyshes, hiding the triumph in the depths of her eyes. She was sure that she had him. Tristan bit the corner of his cheek to not sneer. "Then we both are lucky¡­ May I call you Tristan? You can call me just Jane, too." "Alright, Jane." Tristan made a show of looking around. "Oh, I think someone wants to distract me again. The problems of being the first ce winner¡­ Want to move somewhere more private?" Chapter 49: Giving Jane a taste of her own shit There were plenty of empty hallways and adjacent rooms near the gathering hall, some of them unlocked. Jane and Tristan found one such room. Judging by pieces of equipment lying in a corner, it was a music practice room. As soon as they were alone, Jane stepped forward, closing some of the distance between herself and Tristan. Her radiant smile became even brighter. She was a white lily wrapped in golden leaves. Pure beauty surrounded by luxury. Her entire appearance promised that to hold her elbow was not only a pleasure by itself, but a sign of status. However, Tristan was indifferent to it all. To him, the lily''s petals hid poisonous nectar. Then Jane looked around and scrunched her nose slightly. "This isn''t the ce I''d take for a private conversation. We should go somewhere else after this. Say¡­ a restaurant. It will be my apology. And a date, if you want to." Tristan tilted his head slightly, feigning thinking. "Hm¡­ No. I''ve decided that I will never even consider dating you." He purposefully kept his tone light. Casual, even. As if he didn''t care at all. Jane staggered back, shocked. "What?" "Look, even thest moron would understand why, Jane. Even though you aren''t very smart, I thought you could still get something as simple as that. But fine, I can exin." Jane''s face reddened with outrage. She was stunned speechless, and pinned to the spot by the force of Tristan''s gaze and the audacity of his cruel words. "First, no matter how much your parents paid for your stic surgery, it only made you uglier. You will never look like anything else than a Photoshop-smooth fake. And why would I want to date a doll when I can just buy one?" Each word was like a p to Jane''s face. She staggered back some more. "That''s right, I won''t. Second, your singing career. It''s pathetic. You couldn''t even win more than the Audience Choice Award in a measly contest like the Californian Young Star''s first round. Not even a third spot! You might as well abandon your ambitions and be a housewife. And a rising star like myself can''t date just any glory hound without prospects, even if she has rich parents. I''m sure you agree." [Ding!] [You have devastatingly pped the face of a person with moderate status. Reward: your CP increased by 500!] Jane stood, clutching her hands to her chest. Her face was pale as a sheet, and she was panting. Her entire being was utterly crushed at this moment, and she was one step from fainting. The words Tristan spoke were burned in his memory. Those were the words with which Jane dumped him with! He was really risking saying them, yet he couldn''t resist in his anger. That anger only grew when he saw not a hint of recognition in Jane''s wide eyes. The woman found nothing familiar in these words or Tristan at all! Although Jane remembered Tristan Hayes, she forgot most of that conversation long ago. Just like she forgot the way she dumped all her boyfriends since then. Tristan sneered and went for the finishing blow. "Also, Jane, your family connections and money might let you hire thugs to intimidate other contestants. Good thing that no one found about, hum? But that still didn''t work, and now you can be disgraced at any point with the proof of your cheating, which I have. What''s the point of dating you, then?" Suddenly, some of Jane''s shock was reced with confusion. It even gave her some strength to meet Tristan''s eyes again. "Ch-cheating? Thugs? I did no such thing!" she protested vehemently. "This can''t be true!" Tristan blinked. In her current state of mind, there was no way Jane lied. Even if she did, he''d pick up on it¡ªshe wasn''t in the state to pretend. She was speaking the truth. Tristan''s thoughts buzzed in his head. ''She doesn''t know that Carlos hired the thugs. This could only mean that Carlos either did it of his own volition, or was told by someone else. And I don''t think a simple servant has money to hire people like these either way. No. Someone¡ªCarlos or Carlos'' boss¡ªwanted to advance Jane through the contest without her knowledge. Huh. Interesting. Very interesting!'' "Oh, you think so?" Tristan asked Jane mockingly. "Then why won''t you listen to this?" He pulled out his phone and yed both recordings he made. After Jane listened to them, her legs gave out. With a gasp, she crumpled to the floor, barely stopping herself from falling and instead just sitting. Jane hid her face in her palms, and tears flowed down her cheeks, ruining her mascara. "Impossible¡­ Impossible! I¡ª" Suddenly, Jane reached out for Tristan, her eyes pleading. "Please, delete these! Don''t show anyone! If the public finds out, I will be ruined! My reputation!¡ª" Tristan scoffed. "I don''t care about your reputation. Or you. Pleasant, isn''t it, when no one cares even a bit about you? Especially when you are already in some deep shit." Jane sobbed, devastated and despaired. The sight was intensely satisfying. The feeling was akin to nothing else. Tristan stared at her some more, burning the sight of the crying woman in his memory. He was interrupted by a buzz in his pocket. He tensed. That pocket had his Hayes phone. And the only people calling or texting him on it would be gangsters. The buzzing continued, so it wasn''t a text message. Cursing inwardly, Tristan spun on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving Jane to cry alone. He marched toward another empty room, checked twice that there was no one around, and went inside. There, Tristan put on his earring and finally pulled his gangster phone out. It was still calling, although by now it had two missing calls. "Finally! Hayes, why did you take so long to reply?" Pierce sounded very irked today. "Ah, sorry, I was in the shower," Tristan lied smoothly. "What''s wrong?" "You are needed¡ªimmediately!" Pierce named an address. "There was¡ªis!¡ªan attack there. Go there, and at least track the perpetrators if you can''t stop them in time!" Chapter 50: Cutting the hour of glory short to set things on fire "Understood, Mr. Pierce. I will be there." "Don''t waste any more time," Pierce said and ended the call. Tristan swore under his breath. The timing was terrible. At least he already finished his most important business in the music hall. As for other things Tristan wanted to do¡ªsuch as making important in the future connections with other people attending the party¡ªhe will have to live without them. The address Pierce named was one of King Lion Gang''s properties, and was located forty minutes of riding away from the music hall. Just checking the map made Tristan''s mood even worse. Without switching his identity back, Tristan hurried down the hallways toward the parking lot. People were too busy partying to pay Hayes any mind. In the parking lot, he sent a text to Nel, saying that he had urgent business and had to leave. Then, he rode through the streets, breaking the speed limit everywhere he could get away with it, and using the narrow frame of his moped to squeeze between cars stuck in traffic jams. Several times Tristan got dangerously close to scratching some paint off a car or driving over a pedestrian. His driving skill even increased twice. Pierce called him several times, all of which Tristan ignored, because he wasn''t going to drive one-handed. Tristan still came to the sce. The ce was a hardware shop, although it was just a front for doing some less legal things in the basement. Right now, the ce was utterly wrecked. The front windows were smashed, and ss shards were lying over the ground. The merchandise on the shelves closest to the entrance was knocked off the shelves. Next to the entrance, where the checkout counter stood, there was a pool of drying blood. The entire scene was separated from the surroundings by yellow tape and surrounded by people. Besides a few police officers, there were plenty of curious pedestrians, which were pushed away by the officers. Tristan stopped the moped at a safe distance from the entire thing, knowing that he was way toote to do anything. He parked the moped and approached the police cordon. His ears caught the conversation between pedestrians. "I heard gunshots¡­ you think it was another turf war?" "Hey! Tell us, was this a gang attack? Come on, officers, is this too much to ask?!" "Just a robbery, I bet. Someone should finally tighten the gunws. Anyone can get a gun these days. ''As the founding fathers intended'', my ass¡­" "Poor cashier¡­ She was still of college age. And they say after this that being a cashier is an easy, not-risky-at-all job. It doesn''t pay a living wage, either!" "Stop crowding the crime scene! Go away, or I''m going to start fining you for impeding justice!" a young police officer shouted at the crowd of pedestrians in frustration. "If you saw the attack, then please give your statement at the police station!" Grudgingly, the people began to move away, and Tristan with them. He walked far enough to not be overheard and finally called Pierce back. Tristan was immediately hissed at. "Hayes! The police, the damned police, got to the crime scene faster than you! Good thing you aren''t the only person who works for me. Where are you?" "At the ce, Mr. Pierce." Pierce tsked. "Let''s hope it''s not toote. First! Get into the basement and destroy the evidence of our operations inside. Don''t get caught. Second¡ªyou have sharp ears, I noticed. Hang around the ce as much as you can, listen to what the policemen say. Find what you can about the attack. They wore masks with the Cuatro Angulos symbol, but I don''t know why the cartel attacked here and now." "Understood, Mr. Pierce." "After this, I want you to visit the business owner at home. Give him some cash and calm him down. And don''t bete next time! I''m not paying you to bete, Hayes. Your talents mean nothing if you are nowhere where you need to be!" Pierce ended the call before Tristan could reply to that. He really was angry right now, if he acted this way. Tristan sneered. ''Cuatro Angulos? If these Mexicans are after me again, I''m going to smear them over the grass like a dog turd I identally stepped on.'' With these thoughts, Tristan took off his shiny and quite conspicuous jacket and put it into his moped''s small storagepartment in the back. Then he went to do the damage control. Tristan walked around the store, sneaking from the back entrance. It was risky, but with his high stealth skill, he could move soundlessly in the shadows while the police checked out the front of the store. He sneaked through the service rooms, while the police walked around, taking photos of everything. His ears caught parts of their conversations. "The cash box is still full. Either this wasn''t a robbery, or the attackers were spooked before they could take it." "What does the security camera footage show?" "Not much. It was the first thing they shot at. We only have a shot of some people in masks, inside a car with covered numbers. The only thing that stands out is the symbol painted on their masks." Tristan reached his goal¡ªthe basement entrance. It was in a storage room, hidden under an empty box. On his way through the storage, Tristan picked up a small blowtorch and got it out of the packaging. Inside the basement, hidden from anyone''s eyes, was a miniature manufacture of fake documents and cash. The air here smelled like fresh paint, despite the huge air vent in the wall, and the wall was lined with tall stacks of paper. Some fake dor bills were drying on a hanger. Breathing through the mouth, Tristan raised his blow torch. ''I will have very little time to get away after I set things on fire. Perhaps¡­ status!'' He did a few taps. [Ding!] [Athletics skill increased from 219 to 619.] After this, Tristan turned the blowtorch on and began setting all the paper on fire. Chapter 51: Tristan is too fast Paper went into mes in an instant. Fire spread rapidly over the fake IDs and began approaching bottles of chemicals. Tristan dropped the blowtorch and hurried up the stairs out of the basement. Acrid smoke followed him, and Tristan had to cover his mouth and squint his eyes. He was half-way out when a sharp sound of a fire rm cut through the building. Behind him, a sprinkler began pouring water from the basement''s ceiling. ''Shit.'' Water was only going to destroy the evidence even more, but the fire rm alerted everyone in the store! "What''s going on?!" "I smell smokeing from the inside. Call the fire department!" "There''s someone inside. Was he there all that time? Check the back exit!" Tristan ran out of the basement, not bothering to cover the entrance again, and rushed for the back exit. His hopes to get there before police officers block his way were cut short by a sight of a policeman stepping out of the main store hall with a gun in his hands. "Stop right there! Hands up!" Tristan evaluated the situation in an instant. The officer wasn''t blocking his way, but to get to the exit Tristan will have to run through the man''s line of sight for a second or two. This was enough time to catch a lethal dose of bullets in his back. Through the ring of the fire rm, it was impossible to hear the movements of other policemen, but Tristan knew they were approaching too. He didn''t have the time. ''And I liked that knife,'' Tristan thought, pulling the knife out of his pocket. It belonged to Evelyn at some point. Besides just being a good knife, it had some sentimental value. But to save his skin, Tristan peeked out of the corner and threw it at the officer without hesitation. His aim was terrible, but the distance was only a few meters. The knife spun in the air, and the police officer gasped, reflexively raising his hands to cover his face and chest. Using this distraction, Tristan dashed down the hallway. The knife hit the officer''s elbow handle-first. A momentter, the man raised his gun again, now determined to shoot. When the policeman''s eyes zeroed on Tristan''s back, he was already disappearing behind the corner. With the powerful muscles of Tristan''s body and the athletic skill that allowed him to move gracefully and efficiently, the policeman had no chance to catch up! All he could do was gape in shock at Tristan''s speed. Tristan ran so swiftly he was barely more than a blur. In no time at all, he ran out of the hardware store and disappeared into the streets. When the police finally gathered near the store''s back entrance, Tristan was long gone. Even the policeman who tried to shoot at him didn''t see more than a brief hint of his face and figure. It was clear that they wouldn''t find much about Tristan with just that. There were plenty of ck-haired young men of average height and build around the city. *** Several hourster. It waste at night. Normally, Tristan would be back home now, scrolling the Web, thinking up new song lyrics, or doing chores. Maybe even dozing off¡ªeven though he didn''t need sleep, it was still very rxing and refreshing. Instead, Tristan was entering the Good Lion Bar, called in by Pierce after a day of running errands rted to thetest attack. The hardware store owner, of course, was distressed and angry after hearing that his store had partially burned thanks to the fire in the basement. And Tristan couldn''t just intimidate him, since the man''s store was a front. He had to walk a narrow line of keeping the man in line, but content. That exercise alone gave Tristan points in charisma, fearsomeness, and acting. Pierce was even less happy that the printing manufacture had to be destroyed, and that police were aware of gang activity in the area. This meant they were going to dig deeper into King Lion Gang''s business. Inside of Pierce''s office, Tristan told him all he gathered from the various informants he was sent to contact. "All things point that this was a deliberate provocation, Mr. Pierce," Tristan concluded, summarizing everything. Pierce red at him over his sses. "I didn''t ask your opinion, Hayes. You are far from the level of trust and respect at which your opinion matters at all." Tristan narrowed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, not happy with such words at all. This wasn''t the first time Pierce took out his anger at Tristan, but it was the first time it was so tant. ''Asshole. He only pretends to be a painfully average person, but everybody who ever asked knows what kind of freak Andrew Pierce is.'' "Enough for today. Go home, Hayes, rest, and be ready for an urgent call at any time from now on. If there will be another call, you will need to respond much more quickly. Take your phone in the shower if you need to." Tristan nodded, cringing inwardly, and stood up to leave. This was going to work badly with his day job¡­ With his other identity in general. On his way out, Tristan caught Pierce''s mutter behind his back. "If worsees to worst, we will need to relocate the fighting forces to temporary apartments¡­ This will interfere with the business Mr. von likes so much¡­" *** Next day. Thankfully, no new orders came from Pierce during the night. Although Tristan had the entire gang business to think about, he couldn''t put off the Californian Young Star contest. Yesterday, he got an email with information about the next round¡ªthe final round!¡ªof thepetition. It was going to happen in three months'' time, in Los Angeles. The travel and stay were paid by the contest organizers. Three months seemed like a long time, but was also almost no time at all. Because for that round, Tristan will have toe up with an entirely new performance. Although there were already plenty of people eager to help him, if indirectly. He smirked, looking at the stack of business cards from talent agents. When Tristan talked with them, all of them expressed their desire to provide tools, room and even songwriters for his next round in the contest. ''It''s time to sign a contract with one of these sharks. But which one should I choose?'' Chapter 52: The blackmail king Tristan read the names of every talent agency and researched them online. There were half a dozen different ces. Smaller agencies would give Tristan a better contract, but they had rtively fewer benefits. Bigger agencies could easily bring Tristan to the top of the charts¡ªbut it was really hard to get special treatment there. Tristan''s research paused when he was researching the Golden Talent Group agency. It was a young, but ambitious agency, which didn''t have a lot of stars working for it yet, but spent plenty of money on their promotion and was steadily climbing up in charts. It was hard to say yet whether its investments will pay off in the end, or the agency will go bankrupt first. What attracted Tristan''s attention was the name of the CEO. James Garstean. He remembered that unusual surname, despite only meeting the man once. He was the businessman who made a deal with Leon von! The investments Garstean used to push forth his agency were¡ªat least partially¡ªgang money! And Tristan actually got an invitation from his agency. The irony made himugh. ''How perfect! This agency is small, but they still have money for promotions and such. And with the ckmail I have on their CEO, they will have no choice but to treat me like a king!'' It was decided at this point¡ªTristan was going to join Golden Talent Group. He didn''t have any solid proof of GTG illicit deals, but just a hint could be terrifying. Especially when Tristan knew all the juiciest details, like the person Garstean signed his deal with. An anonymous police report will if not doom Garstean, but definitely give him a lot of pain. Smiling to himself, Tristan called the number of the talent agent from the business card of GTG agency, and arranged a meeting a few dayster to talk in depth about signing the contract. *** Later that evening. The slow, rxing melody was flowing from Tristan''s fingers without his conscious thought. After so much time, ying the same songs people liked over and over, only asionally adding new ones, became a boring routine. It barely even increased Tristan''s piano skill. And the money wasn''t as relevant thanks to the cash he was getting from his criminal jobs. People here didn''t even hear about the Californian Young Star contest. Although it didn''t air on TV yet, Tristan doubted they had watched this channel either way. ''I should leave this job soon,'' Tristan thought. ''It was always temporary, anyway.'' As if responding to his thoughts, his Hayes'' phone vibrated in his pocket. Tristan huffed and continued to y the melody with one hand, pulling the phone out with another. It was a text message from Pierce. Just an address and one word, "NOW". ''Shit. Did they HAVE to choose such an inconvenient time again?'' It was the middle of his shift! Tristan put the phone away and nced around. The administrator was giving him a narrow-eyed look. Tristan swallowed and widened his eyes. He was putting all his acting skills into this. Ignoring the confused and rmed looks of the patrons being thrown at his back, Tristan abandoned the piano and walked up to the bar counter. There, he put on the most natural expression of desperation and pleading he could muster, generously spicing it up with worry. Tristan even forcefully breathed quickly and shallowly, imitating the breathing of someone anxious. If he could sweat onmand, he''d do that. "Listen, please, sir¡ªI have to leave now! I just got a message¡ªit''s my grandma. She had a heart attack¡ªI have toe to the hospital immediately! Please, I will help you close up forever after this!" Truly, Tristan was a great actor. The administrator, shocked, couldn''t find in himself to say "no" to this pleading expression. In fact, he was so caught off-guard by Tristan''s performance that he didn''t even think that it was probably toote for hospital visits. "Alright, alright! Go, I will cover for you¡­ But you will owe me!" Tristan nodded rapidly and almost ran outside. Only in the parking lot, out of anyone''s sight, he rxed his body and shook off the theatrical anxiety. Instead, he chuckled. ''I should leave this job before I have to actually give the debt back, or exin anything about my grandma. Hah.'' The thought stung Tristan with a bit of mncholy toward his real grandparents. He only knew the grandparents on his mother''s side, and his grandmother had died from cancer when he was 12. He didn''t miss his parents as much as he missed his grandfather¡­ Tristan shook that thought from his head. He will see him again, but only after returning home with triumph that will make everybody cry with fear and awe. He mounted his moped and drove to the nearest alleyway where he could switch identities in private. Then he drove onward toward the address Pierce texted. It was a gang-owned massage parlor with "happy endings" on top of normal massages. And conveniently for Tristan, it was only a few minutes of driving away from the Good Lion Bar. Long before Tristan approached it, he heard the gunshots and shouting. Tristan wished he took a gun with him. But at least he always had a knife. As he approached the massage parlor, Tristan saw the attackers covered their backs from reinforcements. A couple of Mexican thugs were standing near a stopped car, in a position where they could see both the parlor and the roads leading toward them. They noticed Tristan too and immediately raised their handguns. Did they even care if Tristan was an enemy or a bystander? Probably not. "Shit," Tristan muttered, forcing a rapid turn to a side-road. Bullets buzzed through the air behind him, but soon Tristan disappeared behind a corner. There, he sharply stopped the moped with a screech of tires, and jumped off. From behind the corner, he heard shouts in Spanish and footsteps. The thugs weren''t going to let him leave unchecked. Tristan smirked, preparing to introduce them to his knife. Chapter 53: Shooting like in a movie The pair of thugs were careful. They didn''t charge behind the corner blindly. Tristan could tell from the sound of their footsteps, even if it was hard to catch in all the noise around. When the first thug turned the corner, he was already holding a gun aimed at chest level and ready to shoot. However, at first he saw only Tristan''s moped parked on the sidewalk. It took the thug a vital moment to notice the movement at the level of his feet. Tristan was there, crouching with the knife. Because of his pose, he took the enemy unawares. With the speed of a lunging snake, he stood up, stabbing the enemy right under the chin. The knife went hilt-deep, killing the thug in one blow. Warm blood showered Tristan and fell to the ground, not leaving a single stain on his skin or clothes. The second thug shouted in rm. He was only a couple of steps behind the first one, covering his back. His gun was also ready to shoot, but he hesitated, seeing hisrade in the way. Tristan left the knife in the man''s chin and held his body like a shield. At the same time, he caught the thug''s gun from the man''s loosening fingers and aimed at the remaining enemy from under the corpse''s elbow. His aim was swift and true. BANG! BANG! The first shot hit the thug in the chest; the second went through the throat. The man fell to the ground like a sack of meat. [Ding!] [Firearms shooting skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] Tristan dropped the corpse from his hand, pulled his knife out of it, and went for the second body. From there, he took the second gun and checked them both. They were simple semi-automatic Glock pistols with 17-ammo magazines. Small, reliable, easy to get. To Tristan''s joy, both magazines were also full, except for the two bullets he had just fired. He grinned, taking a pistol in each hand. This felt like being in a movie. Except that being shot in real life wasn''t cool at all. Although thest bullet wounds¡ªjust scratches¡ªhealed long ago, Tristan didn''t want to get any more. He wished he could continue ambushing people, but the shouts in Spanish told Tristan the shooting was noticed. He walked down the street that separated him from the direct view of the massage parlor and peeked from the corner. It looked like the resistance inside the massage parlor was mostly suppressed by this point. Only two Cuatro Angulos thugs kept watch over this direction, and no one was shooting at them. But three other people were moving in Tristan''s direction from a distance of around 20 meters, and he was noticed as soon as he showed his face. They lunged for the cover of the nearest car, shooting at Tristan wildly. He hid behind the corner again as the bullets buzzed by. From this distance, the enemy''s aim was poor, but Tristan knew that if he risked showing his face again, it would be better. He cursed under his breath, counting his options. He was one of three here¡­ There were more shots from the massage parlor. "Die, Mexican dogs!" someone called out from inside the building. "AAAAAAH, TASTE THE LEAD!!" Maybe not quite alone. There were more gunshots, followed by swearing in Spanish. ''It looks like the distraction of these thugs made whoever was holed inside the building try to make aeback! I have to use this opportunity to attack, too, or things will just return to where they were!'' With that thought, Tristan looked over the street in front of himself one more time. In his head, ns of advance crystallized in moments. He grit his teeth, raised the stolen guns, and ran forward, keeping his head as low to the ground as he could. As soon as he saw the enemies, Tristan opened fire. Every step he took during his charge was coupled with a pair of shots. One, two, three, four. It was already hard to shoot while running, and even harder to shoot from both hands, especially the left one. But despite all that, most of Tristan''s bullets hit someone, even if not in a vital spot. The enemy shot back from behind their covers, trying to hit Tristan and not let him advance while they were being hit themselves. One bullet flew so close to Tristan''s ear, he felt its heat on his skin. Another grazed his shoulder, leaving an ugly tear in Tristan''s work shirt. But those were just lucky shots. Tristan ran too fast for the enemy to aim at him properly! In a blink of an eye, he reached his goal¡ªa parked car¡ªand hid behind it. And now, two out of three thugs were lying on the ground with bullet holes all over them. [Ding!] [You have terrified a person. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] [Ding!] [You have impressed a person of high skill. Reward: your PP increased by 500!] "Hell yeah! Show these bastards that you have the guts!" shouted the same person from inside the parlor. ''Is this the guy I just impressed? His voice seems vaguely familiar¡­'' Tristan peeked out of his cover and saw that thest surviving thug that tried to attack him was pale-faced with fear. Although on his dark skin, it was hard to notice. Despite the fear, he tried to aim at Tristan, but fear made him terribly slow. Tristan sent a bullet into his forehead just as Tristan''s unknown ally shot down the thug who was keeping him suppressed. The screech of tires made Tristan turn his head and see a car speeding away. The remaining Cuatro Angulos people were fleeing. Tristan turned the safety on stolen weapons, stuffed them in his pockets, and cautiously walked toward the massage parlor. ''Whom did I impress enough for 500 points? Are there chances I will actually get rewarded in other ways for it?'' Chapter 54: Planning just a little bit of a coup When Tristan carefully entered the demolished massage parlor, he saw the full extent of the damage dealt by the attackers. Not only the front windows were destroyed, the entire foyer was turned into swiss cheese. Worse, a pair of bodies was lying on the ground: a young woman, likely the receptionist, and a middle-aged man who must''ve been a visitor. The amount of blood around them left no doubts about their state. It was evening, but in this kind of massage parlor those must''ve been still busy hours. In a flimsy cover of a potted nt, there was kneeling a big man who was only slightly less bloody than the corpses. He was holding a handgun with one hand and putting pressure into a wound in his forearm with another. He was in his thirties, but looked older because of the premature gray hairs on his head and the amount of small scars on his face. The face which really was familiar to Tristan. This was Tomas "Iron Jaw" Carbone. He didn''t have a very high rank in the gang, but the amount of fights he lived throughmanded respect from other King Lion Gang members. Tristan had briefly crossed paths with him several times before, although they didn''t get to work together. At the sight of Tristan, Tomas raised the gun, but then recognition flickered in his eyes. "Ah. Hayes, right? Where are the others?" "What others?" "The help. You didn''t drive these assholes off on your own, didn''t you?" When Tristan didn''t reply immediately, Tomas snorted. "Don''t tell me¡­" "I''m sure others are only a few minutes away." After all, Tristan wasn''t the only person in the Good Lion Bar at the time. Others just were mostly too high-ranked for responding to calls like this one, or nonbatants at all. Tomas let out a breath. "That''s good. There are people in the back who need to see a doctor. Our girls, mostly." Tristan, indeed, heard some scuttling from deeper in the building. He frowned. It was as good a time as ever to finally get a medicine skill. "I''m going to help with what I can while the help isn''t here," Tristan said. "There has to be something to wrap wounds with. And you can tell what happened in the meantime." While Tristan said all that, he was already pulling out his phone and writing a brief text to Pierce. Just a few words: "Got there, drove them off". He didn''t respond, anyway. After that, Tristan went to search for medical supplies around the wrecked ce¡ªor at least a recement. "I will tell ya, I never was a racist, but now I want to be," Tomas said while Tristan cut window curtains into stripes with a knife. "I just came here to rx, when they came. Good thing I don''t go anywhere without my gun." Tristan returned to Tomas, and the man immediately took the reins of the first aid attempt. He clearly knew what to do, and was only stopped from doing everything himself by the blood loss and having only one hand to work with. "Tighter, put it tighter! C''mon, what are you afraid of? Hurting me even more?" Tomas''ughter was cut off by a pained wince. "Damn, not THAT hard! Anyway, these bastards got right inside, shot everybody they could see. There were a few other guys inside who fought back, but most of them were caught with their pants down, so if you walk into the inner rooms, you will see some dead dicks in the hallway. But we drove them back in the end." By the end of this story, Tristan tied a sloppy bow over Tomas'' arm. The bandage looked like shit, but together with the minuscule practice Tristan got from treating his own injuries earlier, he finally got it. [Ding!] [You gained a new skill¡ªtreating injuries. Reward: 100 PP!] Tristan smiled and helped Tomas get up on his feet. The big man wobbled at first, but eventually stood on his own. He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a cigar case. Tomas pulled out a cigar and bit on it, then silently offered the case to Tristan, who shook his head negatively. Tomas shrugged and put the cigar case away. He never actually bothered to light his cigar. Tristan was about to suggest that they go inside and give first aid to whoever else needs it, when he heard a car approaching from the outside. He immediately tensed and reached for a gun, just like Tomas. However, when they peeked out of a window, they saw that the car''s driver was a man from their own gang. And next to him sat Andrew Pierce himself. "Even he is here¡­" Tristan muttered. As soon as Pierce stepped out of the car, he began giving out orders. First to the people inside the car, then¡ªwhen he entered the parlor and was greeted by Tristan and Tomas¡ªto them. "Are there heavy wounded?" "In the back, Mr. Pierce." "Carry them to the car. I want this ce cleaned up to the best of your ability in an hour!" That was the police response time to arge gunfight in this district. The orders urged everybody to hurry. In thirty minutes, with the help of more arriving gangsters in a van, the wounded were driven to a hospital, and the corpses¡ªeither be dumped in a shallow grave somewhere, or to the morgue. There were about half a dozen of each, not counting the enemies. The corpses belonging to the Cuatro Angulos gangsters were missing some pieces after Pierce was done with them. An hour after the attackter, Tristan sat together with Tomas in Good Lion Bar''s staff resting room. Pierce still wanted a full report from them, but in the meantime, they had some time to rest and eat. Tristan wasn''t too hungry, but Tomas was wolfing down bar sandwiches like a starving African child. "A second attack in two days," Tristan mused aloud. "A tant provocation, from what I can see. I''m surprised Mr. Pierce didn''t attack back before that, though." He threw a narrow-eyed look at Tomas, estimating his reaction. Tristan wanted this man on his side. And he also wanted¡­ a bit of a coup. "I think he''s too cautious to attack rapidly even after right today. But you know him better, Tomas. What do you think?" Chapter 55: Leaving a job to further an agenda The seemingly casual question was anything but. Tristan was estimating Tomas'' opinion of Pierce. In the time of peace, Pierce was apetent leader, fit for his position. Normally, it could''ve taken Tristan years to achieve a simr level of status and respect in the King Lion Gang. However, Cuatro Angulos'' attack became a fortunate opportunity for him. In times of war, whether between countries or gangs, it was always easy to get promoted, especially when high-ranked officers died. Tristan was sure that if Pierce kicked the bucket, no one would cry about him. But if Tristan himself didn''t have enough respect from the other gang members, he won''t be able to seize Pierce''s position even if he died. He needed allies, and the best way to get them, in Tristan''s opinion, was bribery. The second-best opinion was uniting them around hate toward something or someone. Tristan knew for sure that now that people started dying, every decision Pierce makes will make him new enemies by dozens. On their own, they could only bow their heads and keep silent; but with Tristan leading them, they could force even Leon von himself to ept Tristan as a better leader. Tomas thought about Tristan''s question, chewing on an unlit cigar. "Mr. Pierce, huh? He''s our boss¡ªwe shouldn''t gossip." Tomas paused. "But he''s a snake." "Cunning? Dangerous?" Tomas just grunted in reply, but from his face, he clearly didn''t mean much good by hisment. Or maybe his wound was aching. A doctor had given him proper first aid, but no painkillers. "Well, I hope that after we killed some of their guys today, Cuatro Angulos won''t attack us tomorrow, too. But they will need a better blow to stop." "Yeah. The Mexicans have all the people they want¡ªdeath of a few nobodies for them is like a few hairs being plucked out." "Still painful," Tristan joked, prompting a chuckle out of Tomas. Like that, Tristan and Tomas chatted for a bit longer, and Tristan could tell that Tomas had a pretty high opinion of Tristan by that point¡ªnot just in battle. Tristan hoped Tomas would be a loyal helper in the future¡ªTomas was "a man of the people", the kind many would follow if anything happened. About twenty minutester, Tristan and Tomas were called to Pierce''s office for a report, and afterward, Tristan finally could return home. He was tired, but satisfied. The first seed was already nted. *** When every person in need of directions, his own boss, and people he was grilling for information, left, Pierce was finally left alone in his office. It was way toote, and he wanted nothing more but to go to his apartment, which he was pulled out of by the emergency, drink a ss of warm milk and go to sleep. Instead, he was tapping his fingers on the table, thinking. Not even about the attacks, but about Hayes. Something he saw today didn''t fit in Pierce''s head. Hayes was the first to respond to the attack alert, but how did he get there? When he returned to the Good Lion Bar, it was in the van with the wounded. Pierce thought he saw a vaguely familiar moped on the way to the attack scene. It could''ve been Gemello''s. It wasn''t strange that Hayes borrowed his cousin''s moped in an emergency. Or it was another moped. Or¡­ Pierce shook his head and dismissed the line of thought. He really had more important things to think about. *** Next day. Pierce''s response to the attack was to ce more guards around other businesses under the gang''s protection. Now the usual patrols of our territory were doubled and even tripled. However, it meant that the gang''s manpower was stretched to the limit. When Tristan first saw his patrol and guard shift schedule for the next week, he almost balked right there. Ten hours, sometimes twelve a day! Pierce was trying to kill him. And Tristan didn''t even need sleep! The shifts, of course, ovepped with his work evenings at the bar. He had no choice. "Listen¡­ I have to leave this job. With my family situation, I can''te to the shifts anymore," Tristan smoothly lied to the administrator. "I''m so sorry, I tried to say that to Mr. Pierce myself but he won''t answer the calls, but I sent the resigning form to his secretary." That actually wasn''t a lie. These days, Pierce was a very busy man¡ªit was usually him calling his subordinates, not the other way around. Tristan''s call from Gemello''s phone didn''te farther than Pierce''s secretary. The bar administrator could only curse Gemello in his head and hope that Pierce won''t take offense with him personally over it. Of course, Tristan won''t see his sry for thest week, but he didn''t care. After that call, he opened that day''s system shop. [===Shop===] [Skill refund: 100 points] [Ambidextrous talent: 4000 points (any)] [Lockpicking skill: 10 Criminal Points.] [A foreign bank deposit card: 3000 Criminal Points] [======] Tristan''s eyebrows rose. He actually had the points for this talent if he summed up his Pop-star and Criminal points. He checked out its description. [Ambidextrous: you perform all tasks with both hands with equal ease.] Oh, that was great inbat, or for shooting with both of the Tristan''s trophy Glock pistols at once. First, however, he bought the thing he wanted from the start. [Ding!] [Lockpicking skill purchased.] Tristan realized he should''ve bought every skill he could in the shop long ago! They only cost 10 points, anyway. He was too stingy with them. Now if he needed to suddenly pick a lock, he could quickly put the points into the skill and do it. Then, he sighed and didn''t buy the ''Ambidextrous'' talent, because then he''d only have around 200 points left, and none of them will be Pop-star points. He didn''t have enough of them to buy talents¡­ Instead, he put all his Pop-star points into charisma. [Ding!] [Charisma attribute increased from 57 to 145.] He promised himself that he will get more after his coup works. Thankfully, Pierce gave him the perfect opportunity. Tristan''s mind was already churning with ns. ''And I will have to make sure my patrol schedule doesn''t cross with my GTG agency interview!'' Chapter 56: Spreading influence and bringing a plan to the boss Tristan went out on his first patrol at noon of the same day. Although their task was to watch out for danger, Tristan spent more attention on talking with the pair of gangsters that were sent with him. Thanks to hisst charisma boost right now, Tristan had an incredible charm to him. Although most gangsters were cautious people, as soon as Tristan''s temporary partners saw him, they couldn''t help but treat him like a friend of theirs just because they were from the same gang. The two gangsters were young, hot-headed, and very unhappy that they had to patrol so much. "What''s the point of patrolling so hard, when we can just go to these square-faced assholes and shoot them back?" "Yeah, like this we are like a guy lying on the ground and covering his head with his hands like it will protect him from kicks from above!" Tristan didn''t even have to say much to have them drink up his every word. "I''m sure Mr. von will force Mr. Pierce to act more decisively. Our boss isn''t a coward. And if Pierce is, then you know how it is, he-he. I know that if I had tough guys like you under mymand, dealing with the Angulos would be a simple task. I have some experience in taking out the wrong people." The implication that Pierce could be easily reced was clear, and Tristan''s listeners supported it. Just like the subtler thought that Tristan will be a fine recement, thanks to his experience as an enforcer/assassin for the gang. Tristan usually worked alone, but he always seeded in whatever Pierce sent him to do. For the next couple of days, Tristan followed Pierce''s patrol schedule, using every opportunity to have simr talks with other gang members. Even when he ate in a diner or rxed in a bar, he did it in ces where other King Lion Gang members gathered, so he could spread his influence wider. But he wasn''t only talking, Tristan was also watching. After the first two well-aimed attacks, Tristan was sure that there were people in the gang who sold information outside. Even if they were low-ranked and the information wasn''t much, it was important to find them. Talking and observing so much was actually more tiring than the patrols. However, as a result, Tristan''s charisma rose by 2, and his observation skill by 14! Thanks to Tristan''s appeal, he got plenty of people on his side in just those three days, despite being a new person in the gang himself. Most of his allies were younger members of the gang, but he got a few older, conservative ones as well. Tomas helped a lot there, supporting Tristan''s views on the gang war situation. During these three days, there were also two more small attacks, but each time, the enemy retreated at the first sight of serious resistance. Both sides only had wounded, and Tristan was lucky or unlucky to miss both attacks. Tristan wasn''t invited to important nning meetings, so he didn''t know what exactly Leon and Pierce were going to do in the future. There were rumors that Leon and Pierce were nning a big counterattack, but Pierce was too cautious to go to the enemy territory without more information. Especially because Cuatro Angulos was clearly provoking them. On the fourth day, Tristan noticed a hint he was looking for. A young gangster who came to another patrol in a shiny new jacket. A brand jacket! Tristan had some experience with these things. He KNEW the gangster wouldn''t afford something like that with just his normal sry. After that, Tristan just stealthily stole his phone when they went to take a lunch break in a diner, went to the bathroom, and checked the man''s contacts and messages to confirm his suspicions. The man was selling information about King Lion Gang''s businesses to Cuatro Angulos. Tristan quietly captured on camera of his own phone the incriminating messages, then returned the phone to its owner with him none the wiser, and Tristan now had the next step of his n in his mind. *** "I want to talk with Mr. von. It''s important, and it''s about how we can hit Cuatro Angulos," Tristan exined to von''s bodyguard, who was also working as a secretary when it came to separating approved visitors from unapproved. It was daytime, Tristan actually had a free window in his patrol schedule, and he knew Leon was in the building right now, coordinating his gang. Although the bar was just one of the many businesses the gang owned, it unofficially became Leon von''smand center, at least during the daytime. When the bar was open, he preferred to be in his house instead. "Important? Everything people want to pass me with is important," the bodyguard said, sneering at Tristan. "You are one of Pierce''s boys, isn''t that right? Go to him." Tristan pressed his lips together, oozing urgency and using his charm to infect the bodyguard with it, too. "Mr. Pierce isn''t in the office right now, and this might be urgent. C''mon, I know that it''s your job to send people away, but I thought it only came to the unimportant ones!" "Yeah, people like you," the man grumbled. "Fine, I will ask him." He stepped inside the office and returned a minuteter. "Lucky you, you were let in. But no weapons in Mr. von''s office. I will hold them for you." Tristan nodded, giving the man his gun and even his knife, as per standard procedure in case of assassins. Despite that, the bodyguard still patted him down, although briefly, before Tristan was let through the door. Inside Leon von''s office, the man himself sat over an enormous oak desk like a muscr, majestic lion with a huge (and fake) mane of blond hair. He looked down at Tristan skeptically. "I heard you know something important that can be used against the Mexicans? For your sake, it''s better not be a hoax. Who are you, what is it, and where did you find it?" Chapter 57: Impressing the boss with a new skill Tristan had prepared for this encounter beforehand, practicing his speech in front of a mirror. He knew that if he missed his chance now, next time Leon won''t listen to him at all, and Tristan''s best opportunity to push his agenda will disappear. He prepared so hard for this meeting that he actually developed a new skill in the process! [Combat analysis: 503] Tristan put 500 Criminal Points into it and earned 3 by nning. The skill made Tristan''s brain work like a tactical machine, analyzing every confrontation like a game of chess. And with 500 extra points, Tristan was at a professional level of chess. (The skill, Tristan found, didn''t help to y actual chess.) Now Tristan met Leon''s eyes with a serious gaze. Although Tristan was only 18, and considered still a teenager by older people, the self-assured and confident attitude made him seem older. Seeing it, even Leon von, who was skeptical originally, became more interested in what Tristan had to say. "I have found a traitor in our organization, Mr. von, and I have pictures of his text messages that confirm his guilt. I also have made a n on how this person can be used to our advantage. I have all the details in a file, if you need. But to be brief¡ªwe can feed Cuatro Angulos false information and lead them into a trap." Leon leaned forward, sneering like a predator about to pounce. "What''s your name, boy?" "Tristan Hayes, Mr. von." "Tell me more, Hayes. Where are these photos and files? I want to see them." Tristan smiled inwardly. Leon had aputer in his office¡ªaptop. Tristan quickly sent him the prepared proofs and ns and then stood over Leon''s shoulder to exin the fine points. Tristan knew that the King Lion Gang traded weapons semi-regrly. He had been sent to help to guard shipments with them on some asions, before they would be distributed. "I propose we create a fake shipment, which will arrive at a warehouse, put a smaller than average team to guard it, and include the traitor into the guard team. For Cuatro Angulos, so many weapons at once is a piece too juicy to ignore, and the traitor will know it. He will tell them, and they will act." Tristan even prepared a few warehouse locations that would work well for a confrontation like that. "We can prepare an ambush and wait for them to appear. These shipments never stay long in a warehouse before being moved, so Cuatro Angulos will have to act quickly. We will know when theye, and the ambushers won''t have to wait several days in one spot." Leon nodded. Tristan thought this through very well, and all the proposed ces were fitting for an ambush. There was a better one, but Tristan didn''t know it because he wasn''t in the gang long enough. "Also, Mr. von, because an important shipment like that will have more guards, the Mexicans will bring more people. With a wellid trap, we can cut down their numbers significantly in one hit with only small losses. I also have propositions for the ambush''s tactics¡­" Leon read through the rest of Tristan''s n. With the skill of his, Tristan analyzed possible strategies to an incredible degree. In fact, Leon himself doubted he could do it much better, and he had years of experience as a gang leader! [Ding!] [You have impressed a person of high skill. Reward: your PP increased by 500!] Tristan blinked, hiding his surprise at the notification. Outwardly, Leon was just frowning at hisptop screen. The sigh of him, huge and muscled like a bodybuilder, next to an average-sizedptop was slightlyical¡­ There also wasn''t anything to show that Leon was impressed by Tristan. Leon was too prideful to admit something like that. "Alright." He suddenly snapped theptop shut. "That n of yours seems worthwhile, and it better work out, because it''s your hide on the line. Exin this operation to Pierce¡ªhe will lead it, but you will make sure it all goes smoothly, and Pierce isn''t too slow to act again. Do you understand?" Tristan nodded, hiding his displeasure. It would''ve been nice for him to be in charge directly, but he knew it was unrealistic. He had only been in the gang for a couple of months¡ªhe didn''t have enough respect just yet. But with his words just now, Leon de facto put Tristan in charge, anyway! Pierce will have to follow Tristan''s n, which Leon approved. *** After hearing Leon''s orders, Pierce only fixed his sses and curtly nodded, giving no sign of anger that was more than usual these days. Then he took as much of Tristan''s time as possible by giving him various tasks rted to the preparation of the n. Pierce definitely was taking revenge on Tristan this way! He had Tristan make all the calls, organize the entire fake shipment, and only checked asionally that everything was still right. For the ambush team, the most trusted members of the gang had to be picked, so the information didn''t spread beforehand. To be sure, Tristan proposed to take their phones and othermunication devices away after they were told about their role in the ambush, which happened at thest possible moment. *** Two dayster. The preparations wereplete in a record time. Now a seemingly ordinary truck with an advertisement of an ice creampany on the side was driving toward the edge of the city, where a lonely garage stood in the middle of other endless garages and parking lots. It waste at night, when no one visited a ce like that, and criminals were free to hide their illicit goods. The truck reached its destination and stopped. Four people climbed out of it, while the driver sat inside and looked out, ready to drive away if there was danger. The other four people were also ready for a confrontation. They had guns in holsters and wore bulletproof vests under their jackets and shirts. The men were greeted by two more people that came out from inside the shed. After exchanging passwords and greetings, they began unloading the heavy wooden boxes from inside the truck. That was when a gunshot blew out the driver''s brains. Chapter 58: Gangster gunfight and instant karma The shot was perfectly lined up, and made from a significant distance¡ªalmost fifty meters¡ªand in semi-darkness. The shooter raised his head from the scope of his rifle and grinned at therades who sat next to him, who grinned back at the shooter''s precision. There were ten men in total, who had stealthily walked here on foot from a van that stopped a few hundred meters away. After their informant told them about the truck being in movement, and the lookouts confirmed it, they went to intercept it immediately; although it was only now that the squad actually reached it. All of them had tan skin, dark hair, and unmistakable features of Hispanic heritage, which they were proud of. Although outside of their "own" districts, many white people would look down on them, these gangsters took their revenge by robbing them and their fat wallets. From their perspective, this attack was the same thing¡ªboth for money and for pleasure. There never was much love between Cuatro Angulos and King Lion Gang, but tension increased after recent deaths of some people from Cuatro Angulos. Even if they weren''t important, it didn''t matter. Them being killed by a single white guy just proved that King Lion Gang was full of assholes that deserved their territory being taken away by Cuatro Angulos. The rest was greed. the group''s leader, a lean man with brass beads in his long dreadlocks, said in Spanish. With nods and "yes, sir!" of acknowledgement, the strike team charged toward the parked truck. Although they took plenty of people¡ªjust in case¡ªthe n of Cuatro Angulos relied on swiftness rather than brute force. Why would they wait for the weapons to be unloaded if they could steal the entire truck much easier and faster? The Cuatro Angulos thugs opened the garage doors wide and rushed out, wildly shooting at the enemy gangsters. They didn''t bother aiming precisely, instead suppressing the enemy with a barrage of shots. The people from King Lion Gang shouted in fright and pain as seemingly endless bullets flew around them and at them. Acting on instinct, they went for the first cover they saw, which wasn''t always the nearest or the best. "We are under attack!" "Shit, shit!" "The Mexicans!" "No, wait, don''t shoot, don''t shoot me!" The attackers ran twenty meters facing no resistance, and then spread around with their handguns and rifles. A part of them aimed more precisely at their enemies now, while others However, because of darkness and poor aim of the shooters, few bullets actually hit the King Lion thugs. And out of these, the worst injuries were prevented by bulletproof vests. So, although everybody had at least one wound, and some were serious arm or leg wounds, none of the King Lion gangsters died yet. And they were all experienced inbat¡ªafter the initial shock wore off, they took their guns and began shooting back. They were still hopelessly pinned, and with no chance of winning. Just ten seconds after the initial fight began, a lucky shot hit a King Lion thug in the eye. Ironically, it was the same thug who sold information about the gun shipment. He was promised that he won''t be attacked. Of course, it was a lie. The attacking squad didn''t even know who he was. And no one who was guarding a shipment knew that it was a false one, or that the help wasing. The desperation only made the defenders fight more recklessly and with more hatred. Even if each time they peeked out of cover, they risked getting ten bullets to the head, they still did it and tried to aim at one of the enemies. Even if each time someone reloaded, the pressure on them all only increased, they still sprayed bullets without care. After a couple minutes of such shooting, there weren''t many bullets left, and the intensity of the fight decreased, as King Lion people became more stingy with their shots. Cuatro Angulos people, though, had more people and thus more guns and more bullets¡ªthey were still overwhelming the King Lion thugs. For some of them, this only meant more desperation and rage. A King Lion thug, a short man with wild eyes, a dozen of scars, and a bleeding graze right over his ear, ran right out of his cover, which prevented him from aiming and firing properly. "Fuck you! DIE, DIE, DIE!" he shouted on top of his lungs. He pressed the trigger of his automatic pistol, spraying bullets at the enemies, who didn''t have much cover to hide behind. Almost each shot found its target, and the wild volley killed two people and wounded another one in the leg. But at the same time, more than a dozen bullets flew through the man''s body, turning him into a swiss cheese. Yet even in death, he kept squeezing the trigger of his gun, although it now ran empty. In all that carnage, despite the efforts of Cuatro Angulos, a few stray bullets went through the truck with weapons. They left holes in its body, and although nothing important was hit, the Cuatro Angulos leader looked at it with rm. The attack squad became even more focused. There were only two enemies left, and they focused their fire on one of them. This made him hide fully behind a concrete car stopping block, which was crumbling under the onught. Then, one of the Cuatro Angulos people stalked to the side, about to finish the remaining resistance like that. And was almost quietly shot in the back of his head. It wasn''t even noticed by hisrades immediately. And when, several secondster, they did notice¡ª The dreadlocks of their leader became stained red when a bullet pierced his skull. Chapter 59: Its about sending a message [Ding!] [You have terrified 6 people. Reward: your PP increased by 20.] Seeing two men fallen down like that, the remaining King Lion thugs first paused in shock, then cheered in relief. Someone was helping them! And soon, more shots followed. They were less precise than the first two, and there were still no shooters in sight, but they had to be far away from the sound of their guns. Even without the first shooter''s precision, these shots took down two more Cuatro Angulos people. The rest were left to panic without a clear view of the threat or the surroundings. They tried to run for cover or toward their getaway cars, but were only shot from all sides, anyway! And among all the unseen attackers, there was one whose shots always struck true. Like one-two-three, that sniper quickly killed every Cuatro Angulos thug left. The person with such incredible shooting skill was Tristan Hayes, who was lying on a roof of a garage with his Remington rifle. As for his skill¡­ [Firearms shooting: 814] He had put 200 points in it before this attack. Tristan lied there for a minute longer, as the King Lion survivors gathered their bearings, and the rest of Tristan''s team moved out of their cover behind garages. Only after he was sure that no more Cuatro Angulos thugs were around, Tristan stood up and began climbing down from the roof. There were five more people in his team, one of which was Pierce. However, unlike the other gangsters, all of which worebat gear and had rifles, Pierce still wore his everyday suit and only wielded a handgun. There was a bulletproof vest underneath the suit jacket, but Pierce still didn''t hurry into the fray. Now, though, he expertly organized clean-up of the aftermath. The bodies were gathered and put inside the empty "weapon" crates, and the wounded were given first aid. When Tristan approached, Pierce gave him a narrow-eyed look. He still held a grudge. "Good job, Hayes," he praised with sarcasm. "One dead person from our side to three and some pieces of one of Angulos'' men. Mr. von surely will like those numbers." "One to five. The traitor doesn''t count, Mr. Pierce," Tristan said, nodding at the body that was carried away. "This was better-than-average expectation, anyway. And if we fought directly, we could''ve easily had one-to-one proportion." This was true. Although Tristan''s n had a lot of merit, it required a bait. A sacrifice. To not be noticed, Tristan and Pierce''s team had to hide at some distance from the fake weapon stash, so their response time wasn''t immediate. And to not raise anyone''s suspicions, the guard of the truck couldn''t be higher than it''d be normal. Tristan actually suggested putting fewer men there, so any ambush won''t kill as many. ''At least, by attacking so swiftly after the truck came to the point, the Mexicans spared me the time,'' Tristan thought. Pierce pursed his lips and turned away from Tristan. He didn''t care about dead people either, but the young man had to be cut down. "Don''t waste valuable time standing around. Help the others with the cleanup, Hayes. We still have a message to send." *** Next morning, somewhere else. Dagoberto Quixada stared inside the box, which was discovered before sunrise in one of the streets under his management, at the edge of Cuatro Angulos territory. Around him, several subordinates stood with expressions of shock and disgust, looking at the same thing. His fists were clenching and unclenching in powerless anger. The box was found by an olddy who came out early to visit the food market. Thankfully, she didn''t open the suspicious box that smelled of blood, and didn''t call the police. Being a woman who lived all her life alongside gangs, she went straight to Cuatro Angulos, and the box was quietly taken away. If she opened the box, the olddy would''ve probably had a heart attack. Quixada clenched his fists, staring at the bloody severed heads inside. All of them were missing their eyes. Half of them had gunshot wounds that split their skulls like eggshells. Precise shots that were familiar to him. He was sure. The sniper was the same person who had crossed Quixada before. Quixada swore quietly. *** Next morning. Although it was still early, the Good Lion Bar was full of people. By this point, the night operation against the Cuatro Angulos stopped being a secret, and the information about it spread among the gangsters. And right now, almost thirty people¡ªnot the entire gang, but a big part of it¡ªwere packed in the bar''s hall. Every table was taken, and many people had to stand next to the walls. At the center of it all was the massive figure of Leon von, who was giving a statement. "For years, we shared the city with Cuatro Angulos. These hyenas were always people withoutw or principles, ready to attack anyone who wasn''t their own. But when they thought they can attack MY people, and MY territory and leave alive, they were wrong. Pierce, show it!" With a smile, Pierce reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a stic bag with something round, white and red. But after looking closer, the people in the audience realized¡­ That was an eye! A blood-shot eye that was pulled out of a corpse. "I took this from the head of the attackers'' apparent leader. The heads of them all were sent back to where they came from," Pierce said. "Even rabid dogs can understand a message like that." Leon nodded. "They paid for every our man they killed. We will hold a funeral for those soon. But before that, I want to praise a person without whom this operation wouldn''t have gone so well. This is¡­" The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone! Chapter 60: Finally, a car "I want to praise a person without whom this operation wouldn''t have gone so well." Leon gestured to his other side, where Tristan stood. "Tristan Hayes, a newbie who earned the King Lion''s respect!" And immediately after¡­ [Ding!] [You gained public approval of the King Lion Gang''s boss, and your status in the gang increased. Reward: your PP increased by 500!] [Ding!] [You have pped the face of a powerful person. Reward: your PP increased by 500!] Tristan''s eyes widened. ''That second notification¡­ Was it because of the sess of this attack? Did I deal a blow to an important person in Cuatro Angulos? Was it the same person who sent assassins after me earlier?!'' It was usible. Tristan swore to watch out for his back with twice the caution from that point on. All around him, the gangsters from King Lion Gang gasped and murmured among each other, measuring Tristan with their gazes. Some of these gazes were envious, others skeptical, and some simply condescending. Tristan forgot about the notifications and stood straighter, meeting every pair of eyes directed at him with a bold and confident look. The thoughts of these people were written clearly on their faces. ''He''s so young, he probably still sucks on his mother''s tit! How could he gain praise from the boss himself?!'' ''That upstart thinks he can look at us, experienced gangsters, from above just because he has some talents? He should respect age more!'' ''Even if this guy has some talent, young people like him are just fools easy to use. That praise from the boss means nothing, because in the end he''s still just a tool.'' Tristan stayed calm in the face of each of these thoughts. And seeing that calm, and Leon''s silent support, all these people with unfriendly eyes one by one had to nod and murmur in begrudging respect. "I heard he''s a great shot¡­" "Isn''t he Pierce''s favorite hitman by this point? That''s impressive." Leon smiled and gave Tristan a pat on the shoulder, which would''ve been powerful enough to make someone weaker stumble a step forward. "And of course, everybody who took part in that operation will get a mary bonus. It will be an incentive for you to work even better in the future. After today, we will prepare to take the fight to Cuatro Angulos'' territory!" Now the gangsters actually cheered. *** Next day. For Tristan, the cash bonus was $7000. A bigger bonus was all the free time he got now that Pierce rxed constant patrols. Since yesterday, Tristan was back to his usual irregr schedule of hits and looking over business under his protection. Which was great, because tomorrow Tristan had the interview in the Golden Talent Group agency. He only had one day to prepare. So, of course, he went shopping. With $7000, and all the money Tristan was earning with two sries, he could finally, finally buy himself an actual car! Anyone who has lived in America will tell you that there''s no life in this ce without a car. You became almost a prisoner with a ball and chain attached to you. A moped was decent for transportation, but you can''t carry a dead body on a moped to dump it in a quiet spot. Carrying bags of musical equipment and costumes was possible, but very inconvenient. So that morning, Tristan put on the Gemello identity and went to a car dealership with good reviews and affordable prices. Inside, he was greeted by affordable sedans and SUVs made for typical city dwellers and families. None of these cars were very luxurious or fashionable, like the one Tristan used to drive until he demolished it in a crash. However, there were still more expensive models, the kind with fancy electronic features, the prices of which¡­ Tristan sighed and just went to the cheapest corner, where he picked one of the boring, but versatile sedans. It stood out, because it was painted in ck, which Tristan found fitting for him. And its truck, from a nce, was big enough for everything he might want to move. It only cost $16000, which will leave Tristan with some money for living after the purchase. When an overworked and not very enthusiastic car salesman moved away from other dealership visitors and found Tristan, he already made his choice. "I will take that one, with payment in cash." After three hours of signing the paperwork for his new car, Tristan sat in his new car and put the key in the ignition. Before driving it, however, he opened his status window. [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Tiny Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Rook.] [Pop-star Points: 1810] [Criminal Points: 2890] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 80] [Charisma: 147] [Fearsomeness: 45] [Strength: 222] [Dexterity: 227] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 657] [Dancing: 628] [ying guitar: 794] [Music theory: 279] [Music production: 521] [Acting: 413] [Songwriting: 532] [Voice control: 408] [Stage presence: 159] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1024] [Observation: 922] [Driving: 118] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 814] [Athletics: 219] [Treating injuries: 1] [Lockpicking: 1] [Combat analysis: 503] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [======] Tristan immediately put 500 points into his driving skill, rising it to 618. Then he opened the system shop and checked what new skills were on disy. For 10 Criminal Points, Tristan bought himself the hacking skill. And only after that, Tristan drove home. The car felt like a continuation of his body¡ªthat''s how well his skill let him feel it. Tristan knew he could perform even such tricks as drifting if he wanted to. Instead, he drove almost like a grandma, never breaking a speed limit and following every traffic rule. It''s been two years since Tristanst drove a car. It brought him more anxiety than driving a moped, which was objectively more dangerous. Only by the time Tristan reached home, he calmed down enough to not clench the steering wheel like a lifeline. Stay immersed on m-vlem|p-yr And immediately after he returned home, Tristan went to hisptop. ''I bought a hacking skill¡ªnow I wonder how deep I can get if I actually put points into it? Will I be able to hack into Pierce''s files, or Cuatro Angulos'', or GTG''s?'' Chapter 61: Hes in (an interview) Tristan pressed on his hacking skill and experimentally put 400 points in it. [Ding!] [Hacking skill increased from 1 to 401.] Immediately, information flooded his mind. Various methods of hackingputers and online ounts, as well as methods of protection from them. Of course, to know that, Tristan had to understand a lot about programming as well. The flood of pure knowledge made Tristan''s head spin for a moment. After that, he just sat in front of hisptop for a moment, staring at the wallpaper. Before advancing the skill, he wanted to try hacking into someone''s email. But now Tristan knew just how hard it was, and how na?ve he was before to think that hacking happened like in movies! It was much moreplex than mashing a keyboard and saying "I''m in". Major email websites had multipleyers of protection from hackers. It was a matter of prestige for them to not be hacked, just as important as it was for the Pentagon. Whenever something like that happened, it was an exception, and it certainly took more time than an evening. However, Tristan didn''t fully despair. He still had plenty of knowledge. The most important part of that knowledge sounded like that: "In aputer system, the weakest link for a hacker is usually the user." Most of the time, when someone was hacked, it was because they clicked on a wrong link. Tristan learned about methods to exploit the user to bypass even advanced protection systems like Google''s. For example, he learned about methods of creating a "trojan". Trojans, called after the Trojan Horse, were a type ofputer virus that sneakily hid in the targetputer and pretended to be a normal program. Then it could do just about anything there, starting from stealing data and passwords of the owner. They could still be noticed by antiviruses, but¡­ this was an eptable risk. Tristan nodded to himself. ''I will make a good trojan now. Delivering it to the targetputer will be harder, but if this is aputer of someone I know, I can just send the trojan''s instation file masked as something innocent.'' That type of thing was a more powerful weapon than the guns Tristan stashed in his closet, in a sense. However, Tristan still needed more expertise. [Ding!] [Hacking skill increased from 401 to 1401.] Stay updated with m_v_l_e_mpyr This was an entirely new level! A level Tristan didn''t think necessary to reach with his skills before. His head spun so much that he had to lean on the table to stay upright. Then his eyes red with the passion of creation. He knew what he wanted, and how to do it. Thebination was as intoxicating as inspiration for a song, although it was an inspiration for aputer virus. After grabbing himself a can of cold c from the fridge, Tristan began programming like a man possessed. He only made breaks to order food delivery and spent the rest of the day and a major part of the next night coding his trojan. [Ding!] [Hacking skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Hacking skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Hacking skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Ding!] [Hacking skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] Eventually, it was done. Tristan called the trojan "Beholder". It was a simple, subtle program that pretended to be a system application. However, whenever the user typed something, it recorded the text, then sent it all to a small hidden server, which Tristan arranged. This included all passwords and sensitive letters the target sent. Or even didn''t send, but typed and then deleted. That kind of software, Tristan found while working, could sell for a good sum on the dark web. He didn''t do it. Instead, he masked the Beholder as a music file with his Dragonfly song and posted it on a random forum as a test. Then he could only wait. *** Next day. For that interview, instead of one of his fake leather jackets, Tristan actually put on a suit. A dark blue-gray suit which looked almost ck, with a white shirt and without a tie, which showed off some of Tristan''s muscles. Driving in his new car, Tristan didn''t worry at all that the suit would wrinkle or get dusty while he was riding a moped. When Tristan walked in that suit with the aura of confidence he practiced so much in, he didn''t look like an office worker. Instead, he actually looked dangerous, like a mafioso! And he was smiling to himself, because he found about something amusing and exciting that was about to happen today, and was already anticipating it. Like that, Tristan entered the Golden Talent Group building. Even in the lobby, he attracted the eyes of people with his appearance and charisma. Sadly, none of these people saw Tristan''s performance yet¡ªit was not released on TV yet¡ªbut they still were wondering what kind of talented person he was. Tristan looked like a man who could be a model, or an actor, if he wanted to. The receptionist asked his name and then directed Tristan to an office for the interview. The same talent agent that gave Tristan a business card greeted Tristan. However, now this middle-aged man looked at Tristan with an entirely different attitude. He was hiding nervousness from the moment he greeted Tristan politely. Tristan tensed, but acted like nothing happened, continuing with normal pleasantries. "So, I''d like to talk about the terms your agency suggested for my contract. You had mentioned a 10% cut of my future earnings¡ªdoes that include legal fees?" Instead of replying to Tristan''s question, the agent shook his head. "I deeply apologize, Mr. Gemello¡­ But after considering things again, our agency decided we can''t offer you a contract. I''m sure that you will easily be taken in by many other agencies after the sess of your debut song at the Californian Young Star contest." Tristan was taken aback¡ªbut only for a moment. Then he smirked. "Is this your decision, or your boss''s? Or the boss of your boss''s? I want to talk to him. I want to talk with Mr. Garstean!" Chapter 62: Bullying a poor CEO for benefits "Is this your decision, or your boss''s? Or the boss of your boss''s? I want to talk to him. I want to talk with Mr. Garstean!" As he said this, Tristan rose slightly in his seat and pinned the agent in front of him with a gaze full of authority. That look and voice would''ve been enough to make an average man sweat andply. However, the agent had years of experience working with prissy and bitchy showbiz people. Even someone like Tristan, someone the agent was warned about, was not enough to make him give up immediately. Clenching his fists nervously, the man shook his head. "Mr. Gemello, I apologize again, but Mr. Garstean''s decision was¡ª" Tristan forcefully cut the agent off. He leaned forward in his seat, putting even more pressure on the way he addressed the man. "I''m not going to listen to your twice-chewed exnation, and I won''t leave this office until I talk with Mr. Garstean. Do that, or otherwise, I will stay here and live on office coffee and chocte bars from the hallway vending machine if I need to." Tristan''s eyes shone with bright resolve, and looking into them, the agent believed that this impossibly stubborn will really go with his threat! The only way to make him leave was to call the security or call Garstean. The agent''s shoulders slumped. "Mr. Gemello, this is¡­ not respectable behavior. But I will give your words to Mr. Garstean. Please, wait here." Tristan smiled and leaned back in his ufortable office chair like it was a soft couch. "Sure. I will wait until the Second Coming of Christ if I need to." He only needed to wait for fifteen minutes until James Garstean stepped into the office. Tristan turned to him immediately, smiling. "Greetings, Mr. Garstean. I could even say, ''Long time no see''." Garstean gulped and sat at the ce at the table where his agent was before. And just like the man who was there before, Garstean was visibly nervous. Just a single look at Tristan made him feel queasy in his stomach. Because it was impossible to not recognize such a charismatic face! Tristan only became more handsome and impressive since Garstean saw him ying in the Good Lion Bar, but Garstean still immediately recognized him after seeing pictures from the Californian Young Star contest. If he was there personally, he''d never offer Tristan a contract. However, his agent didn''t know about it, and it made no sense to not offer a contract to the winner of that round. And Garstean himself only found whom the agent wanted to offer a contract to after he was shown recordings and pictures from thepetition. If Tristan''s name was spoken back when he showed his piano skills, Garstean had long forgotten it. Tristan was the person who yed in Leon "King Lion" von''s bar. In Garstean''s eyes, Tristan had to have some gangster connections! It was bad enough that Garstean took investment money from gangsters, and they wanted returns on these investments, as well as Garstean''s help withundering their dirty money. Taking in a person from the same gang¡ªwon''t that put even more pressure on him? It definitely would! And unlike with bloody gang money, the benefit Garstean will get from signing a contract with Tristan was too negligible and not worth his frayed nerves. The arrogant way Tristan Gemello acted in the office, and the way he talked like they were old acquaintances, only confirmed Garstean''s fears. He smiled through them, trying to appear friendly. "Greetings, Mr. Gemello. I heard you had a misunderstanding with one of my subordinates, so I came here to rify the situation." "A misunderstanding, huh? Mr. Garstean, why won''t the Golden Talent Group agency sign a contract with me? Changing your mind so rapidly after inviting me to an interview¡­ not only is it incredibly suspicious, it''s also incredibly rude." As he spoke, Tristan drilled holes in Garstean with his eyes, making the man''s plump face sweat. "We¡­ ah¡­ Our agency realized that we currently don''t have enough resources to support your career as it deserves. I''m sure you will have much better offers with other agencies¡ª" "Please, Mr. Garstean, if you can''t tell me the real reason, at least don''t feed me this bullshit. I know perfectly well that you have all the money you might want, thanks to your investors. Especially one investor we both know personally." Tristan smiled. Garstean paled. "Ah, but, well¡ª" "Mr. Garstean, small talent agencies like yours would''ve been eager to take me under their wing. Are you going to lose to them just because of some fear? This way, you will only be bankrupt eventually, even with all those investments. And when that dayes, who knows what the bankruptcywyers will find in your finance documents?" Every word Tristan said was carefully measured. With his observation skill he gathered even small reactions Garstean had on his earlier words, and from them, he could guess what his biggest fears were. With an expressive man like Garstean, ying on his fears was as easy as ying on a guitar! New chapters at m v|le|mp|yr [Ding!] [You have utterly terrified a person. Reward: your PP increased by 30.] Even the Second Identity System didn''t consider it much of an achievement. Garstean slumped in his seat, defeated. "Mr. Gemello, my initial judgment, ah, it was too rash. We should talk about the details of a contract with our agency which, ah, will work for you. But this is a serious decision, so, ah, perhaps meeting again tomorrow to finalize it will be better?" Garstean''s question sounded more like a plea. He looked like he could faint any moment. "Sure, tomorrow works for me. Just send a draft of your contract to my email, please, so I could review it in the meantime." Tristan wanted to do it regardless¡ªhe simply expected to discuss it beforehand here. Signing a contract in one go would be too quick for such a decision. "Of course¡­ of course, Mr. Gemello. Do you have anything else you wanted to discuss?.." "No, no. But please, hurry with the contract draft," Tristan reminded. "Have a good day, Mr. Garstean." He left the office room and went to the front lobby. Garstean followed a dozen meters behind him, like a lost shadow, which didn''t know itself why it was doing so, only followed blindly after the pull of Tristan''s charisma. At the entrance of the lobby, Tristan suddenly stopped. His eyes widened with shock, but then he grinned. That event he was awaiting since this morning was actually happening right now! Chapter 63: Signing a contract and casually hating women There was a TV screen mounted on the wall in the lobby, so people waiting there won''t get bored. It was set on a local music channel, and the sound was muted, but still audible. Right now, the TV was showing highlights from the Californian Young Star contest. A few visitors that were sitting in the lobby were watching it from the corner of their eyes. When Tristan stepped into the lobby, a few heads turned toward him in reflex. People would''ve dismissed him soon after that, if on the TV screen, a host didn''t announce his name. Next, there was a close-up shot of Tristan''s confident face. One by one, the faces of the people in the lobby lit with surprise and recognition! Now even people who didn''t care for the TV show were curiously looking at the TV screen to see Tristan''s performance, while stealing nces at the man in the flesh. Garstean was watching, too,pletely arrested by the sight. It was the first time he actually saw this performance, and he was shocked by Tristan''s mastery. In fact, he was shocked that Tristan used the guitar instead of a piano. Such mastery of two very different instruments meant a deep understanding of music that only very experienced musicians had! Meanwhile, Tristan, acting like nothing special was going on, sat on a couch for visitors and watched the TV program as well. ''I look pretty good on camera, but it could be better. I should increase my appearance to match charisma, at least. Or even higher. Well, if I do it right here and now, it will look very strange to people around. At least otherwise I can say it''s makeup or even stic surgery, if anybody asks.'' With every passing second, people in the lobby were more and more enchanted by Tristan''s performance, captivating even on a TV screen. Half a minute into the performance, the receptionist even brought a remote and turned the volume up. The performance just reached the second refrain verse, when a new visitor entered the building from the outside. Seeing half a dozen people all sitting and watching the TV like this was a family evening, he stopped in shock. Then he gasped. "Tristan! Man, what a coincidence!" "Nel?" Tristan turned to his approaching friend, who sat next to him, grinning. "Yeah. Remember, during thest time we went out for burgers, you told me you will go for a contract with GTG? Well, it only made sense for me to do the same! You know the game better than me, anyway." Tristan chuckled. "I guess I should''ve expected this. But then what''s the coincidence here?" "Chancing upon you in a lobby, of course, riiight when your performance is finally on TV! Hey, did they show me already?" "I don''t know. You''d think they would show the winnersst." Nel sighed. "Oh, too bad I don''t have the time to watch the entire thing. My interview starts in," he checked the time on his phone, "a five minutes, and I have to find the right office first. Hey, if you wait for me here, we can hang around afterward!" "No way we won''t. I still didn''t show you my new car. Although it''s one of the least impressive ones I''ve seen, ha-ha!" Nel grinned and pped Tristan''s shoulder. "It''s still amazing! Anyway, gotta go, bye!" He hurried to the receptionist, who was forced to give him directions, and then up the stairs. Another minute after Nel''s leave, apuse sounded for Tristan''s performance on TV, and the receptionist turned the sound back down. [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 50 thousand people on TV with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 2500!] Tristan grinned, dismissing the notification. Too bad this was just state TV, and not American TV. Then his audience would''ve been counted in millions¡­ "Mr. Gemello, was this person your friend?" Tristan blinked and turned to Garstean. That man was still here, and still looking like he was considering what epitaph will look best on his gravestone. "Yes. And?" "No¡­ Nothing. Nothing at all. Ah¡­ I have to go, too." Inwardly, Garstean just mentally doubled his problems with Tristan. Now he will have to make sure that Tristan''s friend had nothing toin about, or who knew what consequences might follow? With these thoughts, Garstean hurried from the lobby, energized by his fear. He had to make sure Tristan''s friend''s contract was good, and thene up with a way to get rid of them both without crossing them! Such an impossible task. *** Next day. As soon as Tristan put a signature on his contract, there was a sound. [Ding!] [Your Pop-star rank has changed from Tiny Young Star to Contracted Young Star! Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] Get more chapters on m v l e mpyr Tristan set the pen aside and put the signed contract copy in his bag. The contract was a good kind, which gave Tristan a lot of freedom in the future and a fair share of money. "In the next three days, our agency will assign a manager to you, Mr. Gemello," the agent sitting in front of him said. "Our agency cares very much about thefort of our talents, so if you have preferences about a manager, we will try to follow them." Tristan nodded. "It should be fine, as long as the manager isn''t a woman." "Of course. Have a good day, Mr. Gemello." Tristan wasn''t sure this would be possible. Thest two days the things were silent on the war front between King Lion Gang and Cuatro Angulos, but this only made Tristan worry more. "Thank you, you too." *** Back at home, Tristan checked the results of his virus-spreading. Several people have downloaded the video he shared, but only twoputers were sessfully infected by the Beholder trojan. The rest of the users, Tristan realized, downloaded the file from phones. That was a mistake that Tristan could fix in a few hours. But overall, the trojan''s release was a sess. His text stash was full of things typed by the infected users! Among them, Tristan noticed a few strings of text that could''ve been passwords, too. And now that he had this tool at his disposal, Tristan''s mind came up with a n to use it to advance his criminal career. Chapter 64: Yet another brilliant plan The more Tristan thought about his n, the better it sounded. After he finished with the details, all that was left was to offer it to Leon or Pierce. Before that, though, Tristan spent a few hours managing his socialworks. His performance on TV was a promotion he HAD to use to boost his online poprity! He posted some casual pictures online with kind words to anyone reading them, thanked his supporters, and asked if people wanted to hear covers for any specific songs. By evening, Tristan switched an identity and drove to his criminal business. Today was the day when Tristan usually gathered protection fees he had to pass to Pierceter. One of the business owners tried to get pity from Tristan, telling about "bad times" and asking for a dy in his payment. This was amon situation, and the only right response was to break something before a dy for "a few days" turned into a dy for a few forevers. However, the owner of the business knew enough about Tristan by now that a single dark nce and a subtle threat made him bring out the money. [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] That was Tristan''s daily life. Now, since he had to bring the cash to Pierce, he could do that and give him the n at the same time. *** "A n, you say? Another one?" Pierce pushed up his sses. "You are a wellspring of ideastely." It was impossible to tell whether Pierce was sarcastic. Even Tristan, with his great observation skill, understood only one thing. Although he was in much better spiritstely, Pierce didn''t forgive Tristan for going above his head. "Will you listen to it, Mr. Pierce?" "Of course." Tristan smiled. "I''ve been thinking and searching, and I was lucky to find something incredible. It''s aputer virus that can be put into any ordinary file. Then, as soon as someone opens it, the virus will hide in theputer, or even a smartphone, and send all text typed on it to the owner. It can even tap into phone conversations." Thetter was a recent update, something that Tristan spent a night working on. Entirely worth it. Pierce frowned. "Aputer virus? Huh. And you have it? Don''t tell me you are a hacker, too¡­" "No, no, I just bought that thing from one. And he can set it up however I need. So I immediately thought that if we could send this virus to Cuatro Angulos somehow, a lot of our problems would be solved in an instant." Pierce''s eyes lit up. Of course, he had some sources of information within Cuatro Angulos, just like Angulos had rats and moles within the King Lion Gang. However, they weren''t giving Pierce a lot of informationtely. When it came to a gang war, gangsters from Cuatro Angulos were annoyingly loyal. Otherwise, they ended up dead rather quickly. "That''s true. If we had a source of information like that, we''d be able to attack Cuatro Angulos where it will hurt the most¡­" Pierce smiled. "Not to mention, be warned about their attacks. But there''s a caveat, I assume?" "I don''t know contacts of anyone within Cuatro Angulos, and I don''t know what to send." Curiosity alone could make a person open just any video or image file, but for the sake of spreading the trojan as far and wide as possible, it better to have a lot of impact. "I see. This is solvable, though." Pierce leaned back in his office chair, still smiling. "Good work here, Hayes. And as always, you brought the money you needed to in a timely manner. If you don''t need anything else, you can give me the virus and go." Tristan almost raised his brow at this tant attempt to steal the results of his efforts. "I''m sorry, Mr. Pierce, but that''s impossible. The virus needs to be attached to a file you will send by the hacker who made it. And like all hackers, he won''t just help a stranger, so I will have to talk with him myself." Pierce narrowed his eyes. He couldn''t find fault in Tristan''s exnation, because he didn''t understand much about how viruses and hacking worked. Clearly not the way they did in movies. Or maybe they did. "Fine. I will tell this to Mr. von, too." *** Next day. It felt like no time at all passed before Pierce asked for a meeting again. In his office, Pierce put an unremarkable old sh drive in front of him. "There''s the file your hacker will need to ''infect'' with a virus. He better not show it to anyone who doesn''t need to see it. Otherwise, it''s on you." Stay with the story on m v l e m p y r "Don''t worry, Mr. Pierce. Loudmouths don''tst long in his business." Back at home, Tristan inserted the sh drive into hisptop with some trepidation and a lot of curiosity. Inside was a single short video, titled, "For all cowardly dogs in Cuatro Angulos.mp3." When Tristan opened it, he saw a man that could''ve only been Leon von, although his face was blurred and his voice changed. He was standing in front of a dark wall, with nothing specific on it to hint at where the video was shot. "Cuatro Angulos. You think yourself high and mighty, but you are just a bunch of mangy mutts! Your courage onlysts until someone shoots one of you like you deserve, and then you all run with tails between your legs." "It looks like after myst ''gift'', you realized no one goes against my gang and lives. In these concrete jungles, a lion is the king, and I''m the King Lion! Others can only think otherwise because they are too pathetic for the lion to bother." "If you had enough of your plotting, scheming and other ways to say ''hiding from us with shaking knees'', let''s settle the score the old-fashioned way. Just tell where. We wille." The video ended. Tristan chuckled. ''So this is the idea Leon came with? Yeah, he really is like a lion¡­ an ambush predator!'' He eagerly began injecting the video with the Beholder trojan. Tristan couldn''t wait to find through his virus what the reaction of the people in Cuatro Angulos to it was! Chapter 65: Hes in (enemy computers) In a few hours after Tristan got the sh drive, the video infected with the trojan was sent to Dagoberto Quixada''s secretary and adviser. He watched it from his workputer and immediately wanted to show it to more people. He wasn''t in his position because he was a tattletale, though, so instead he only forwarded the message to Quixada''s email. At the time, Quixada was inspecting the soldiers that were preparing for the next stage of the street war between the gangs. An hourter, he watched the video from his smartphone while his bodyguard drove him back to his mansion. After hearing the insulting words of Leon von, Quixada gripped the smartphone and almost chucked it through the car''s window on the spot! *** Later in his office, Quixada re-watched Leon''s video from hisputer. He was trying to find more useful information from it and not knowing he was only shooting himself in the leg. Then, he made an important call. Although Quixada was a man who carried himself with an aura of power, when listening to the voice from the other side of the call, he subconsciously bowed slightly. The power of Quixada and Cuatro Angulos as those Americans knew it was nothingpared to the power of Quixada''s boss and the rest of the cartel! Countless men worked for Cuatro Angulos in Mexico, producing, guarding and smuggling drugs, weapons and people over the border. If moving such power to America was possible, King Lion Gang would''ve been squashed like ants long ago. At the very least, these people could always crush Quixada, who was only a boss of a small branch of the cartel that was located in this city. Experience epic stories at m_v_l_e_m_p_y_r There was a pensive pause at the other end of the call, a pause that made Quixada sweat a little. Although he felt like his boss didn''t need to know small details like Leon''s insult, maybe showing him would''ve convinced him more. Quixada sucked in a breath. The call ended. *** Tristan listened to the recording saved in the Beholder''s cloud storage and sighed. Yeah, that was a major w of his n. He didn''t know even a bit of Spanish, and wasn''t sure that anyone in the gang did. Of course, in modern times, with AI being able to do more and more things, using aputer to transcript voice recording to a text you could put in online trantor was possible. Tristan knew, though, that the quality of this trantion might easily make it useless. ''Well, with the amount of Mexican immigrants in our city, surely at least someone knows Spanish in King Lion Gang. They couldn''t all be a part of Cuatro Angulos.'' He checked the text and sound recorded by the Beholder and gathered as much useful information from it as he could. After only the first day of spying, there was already a lot. Then Tristan brought the more filtered information to Pierce, who was already waiting for it. "Of course these Mexicans talk in Spanish," Pierce muttered bitterly as he checked out Tristan''s findings. "They live in America, but have no decency to speak like Americans. No matter, I know a person who can trante that. Good work, Hayes." Pierce turned away from theputer and pulled an envelope from a drawer of his table, which he pushed toward Tristan. "Your payment for this job. Even though you volunteered, it deserves a bonus." Tristan smiled; Pierce said the words like they pained him. Tristan could tell already that the bonus was Leon''s idea. *** It only took a few more hours for the first information to be tranted. Tristan found that out the next day, when Leon gathered a military council and invited Tristan to it. This was happening not in the Good Lion Bar, but inside Leon''s own house: arge house full of luxurious furniture, lion-themed items, and security features. Six people gathered around arge oval table with legs carved like lion paws. Besides Tristan, Leon, and Pierce, there were three more gangsters, all of which belonged to the more experienced kind who didn''t need to dirty their hands themselves for a long time. Their names were Delgado, Whitman and Martinez. Tristan was by far the youngest in the room, and immediately after entering it, felt a disdainful look fall upon him. Martinez spoke up, smiling politely at Leon while giving Tristan contemptuous side-looks. "Mr. von, I thought this was an important meeting that might decide the future of the war we are in. I remember your rmendations of the boy, but no matter the talent, he surely doesn''t have the status to sit in this meeting!" Tristan gave the man a cutting look, but he didn''t need to defend himself this time. His earlier work to gain respect and familiarity with other gangsters paid off, little by little. That, and his military sesses. Because before Tristan or Leon could speak, Delgado and Whitman rose to his defense! The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone! Chapter 66: A 10 million dollars plan Delgado and Whitman red at the third one, who, even after Leon von invited Tristan to the meeting, spoke against the boss''s authority. "I thought your father taught you better manners, Martinez, than to speak in such a tone in your boss''s presence!" Delgado said. "If he was invited, then Mr. von needs Hayes''s skill. Which he had proved more than once, as we all know," added Whitman. Leon mmed his palms on the table, making all three freeze. "Enough. We are here to make ns, not to waste time on your squabbles. Tristan is here, because I believe he will be useful, just like he was already. He brought in the information, without which we''d have nothing to make ns about!" Everybody watched intently as Leon spread arge map on the table. "After the challenge I sent, the Mexicans are gathering forces for a decisive strike. But we will strike faster, and to the ce it will hurt the most. Here." He pointed at a pencil circle on the map. It outlined an average apartment building block. "This is the safehouse where Angulos'' stashed theirst haul of drugs from the other side of the border. I''m talking about at least ten million dors in drugs! We must raid the ce while we can. Give them the taste of what they wanted to do to us." The mention of so much money made gangsters'' eyes red with greed. This was about a year''s worth of the gang''sbined ie. "The ce will be guarded, of course, but we won''t be afraid. Now. Any suggestions on how to strike?" Pierce fixed the sses on his nose. "Although we don''t have definite information about this yet, I have a feeling that the reinforcements sent from Mexico are in this ce, too. They could''ve even arrived together. Perhaps we should destroy the stash instead of capturing it¡­" Tristan narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Pierce, you can''t seriously say this, right? It''s ten million dors versus some more Mexican thugs!" Although he wasn''t underestimating the danger of the reinforcements¡ªwho knew, they could''ve been actual elites like the assassin Quixada hired to kill him back in the days¡ªTristan couldn''t miss a chance to undermine Pierce''s authority in front of others. Leon nodded. "They killed our men! Payment in blood wasn''t enough¡ªthey should pay with money, too." Pierce nodded with a slightly sour expression, and the conversation moved to the actual nning. At some point, Leon''s housekeeper brought in refreshments. The luxurious atmosphere, with servants around, reminded Tristan of home. Although thest memories of that ce were dark for Tristan, before that, he had a lot of great moments. It was a pleasant ce for Tristan, and he knew he wanted to own a mansion of his own one day. Except with better furniture. For now, he focused on the nning with an extra spark in his eyes. The n they came up with was pretty straightforward, which only made it harder to fail. The strike team will arrive inside an average-looking truck and get into the building through the fire exit. Then they will kick some doors, shoot through some heads, get the thing, and get out. As a safety measure, a second team will hide in another truck as close as they safely could, since it made no sense to send more people than five at once to fight inside a building full of tight spaces. The most important question after this was¡ªwho will lead each team? This was a job for someone skillful and experienced, and whoever returned with the ten millions in drugs will be akin to a knight who stole a dragon''s treasures! "Perhaps¡­ Perhaps I should remember that I''m a king of the beast and lead the main strike team," Leon said, palming his chin thoughtfully. "Hayes can lead the secondary team, then." Pierce''s eyes widened. "Mr. von! This is an extremely dangerous mission, and no amount of skill can help you dodge a bullet point-nk! Your organization needs a leader. Especially now. What will we do if you die?" Tristan nodded in support. "Mr. Pierce is right. You are the only boss we all have! But¡­ people like all of us," he gestured at the mid-bosses gathered at the table. "We are much more expendable. And from what I see, at least some people here are still in fighting shape." Tristan pointedly looked at Pierce. Out of the four mid-bosses present, he was the only one without even a hint of a beer tummy. Although only Martinez could be called pudgy or fat, Delgado and Whitman were approaching their fifties. Pierce, however, looked like a stationery knife. Unassuming at first, but extremely sharp and, in some ways, deadlier than a normal knife. Leon looked at Pierce, too. Pierce grimaced like he licked a lemon. It wasn''t a secret that for all his sadism, Pierce didn''t like fighting opponents who could fight back. This was something Leon always disliked about him. "Well said, Hayes. Pierce should have the honor of leading the strike team, then! He''s more dangerous than a puma. I''m sure he will return with the haul of drugs and hunting trophies!" Delgado nodded. "Mr. Pierce has a lot of experience fighting in tight spaces, too. I''m sure he didn''t lose his knack for it. And since Hayes is used to working under him, there will be goodmunication between the main and the support team." Tristan smiled. "This sounds incredible. Although in the best-case scenario, the support team won''t be necessary, I hope to see you act in a fight, Mr. Pierce!" Although his words were ttering, Tristan''s thoughts were full of smugness. ''Victory and trophies? You? Even gangsters should have a bit of standards, Pierce. I think I deserve all that much more. I don''t have enough respect to take over Leon''s ce yet, but after the Mexicans kill you on this operation, I will definitely have yours!'' Of course, Pierce couldn''t refuse the honor given by Leon if he wanted to keep his skull bullet-free. *** Next day. The day of preparations. [Criminal Points: 4490] Tristan looked at his points and thought about what to spend it on, knowing that on the raid, every point might end up vital. Chapter 67: While Tristan levels up, Pierce suspects ''First¡­ What do I have? System, status and shop.'' Two panels opened in front of Tristan. [======] [Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)] [Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.] [Pop-star rank: Tiny Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Rook.] [Pop-star Points: 1980] [Criminal Points: 4490] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 80] [Charisma: 147] [Fearsomeness: 46] [Strength: 222] [Dexterity: 227] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 657] [Dancing: 628] [ying guitar: 794] [Music theory: 279] [Music production: 521] [Acting: 413] [Songwriting: 532] [Voice control: 408] [Stage presence: 159] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1024] [Observation: 922] [Driving: 618] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 814] [Athletics: 219] [Treating injuries: 1] [Lockpicking: 1] [Combat analysis: 503] [Hacking: 1405] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [======] [===Shop===] [''Bullet Time'' talent: 3000 Criminal Points] [Logistics skill: 10 Criminal Points] [Camera work skill: 10 Pop-star Points] [A tear-gas grenade (5 in stock): 150 Criminal Points] [======] Tristan read everything there intently, especially the shop. Every day he opened the shop was like a lottery. Most of the time it was not very useful stuff he saw already, and sometimes there were cool things like today. [Bullet time: in moments of danger, your perception of time slows down by ten times for a short while.] Tristan''s eyes widened. ''This is incredible! Although, the talent description doesn''t say that it makes me faster. Will that mean that if a man shoots at me, the talent will activate, but it will be useless, anyway? I will see the bullet approach, but will still be too slow to dodge.'' He thought about that for another moment. It felt like a major downside, but the talent was still incredibly useful. In a gunfight, a difference in reaction time as small as a fraction of a second could mean life and death. ''And it''s only 3000 points. I will have something left to put in my medical andbat skills. Or athletics.'' Tristan began tapping the system windows, spending his umted points. There was something incredibly satisfying about gathering a lot of points and spending them all at once¡­ [Ding!] [''Bullet Time'' talent purchased.] [Ding!] [Treating injuries skill increased from 1 to 201.] [Ding!] [Close-quartersbat skill increased from 1024 to 1224.] [Ding!] [Athletics skill increased from 219 to 419.] Tristan paused here. He felt like his key skills were already high enough for the approaching fight. He could always increase them further. Or put points into strength and dexterity. However, he thought about things thatid beyond the raid on Cuatro Angulos. His own ns on usurping Pierce''s position. Did he have enough attributes and skills for that? Tristan thoughtfully tapped fingers on his knee, then shook his head. ''No, there''s one attribute that''s too low to be a boss of thugs who are used to Pierce. I will need to raise it to be more respected than he is.'' With that, Tristan put all his remaining 890 Criminal Points into his fearsomeness. [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased from 46 to 135.] Tristan smiled to himself, satisfied, and went to check on and clean up his weapons. Besides the Remington rifle, he also had several handguns, looted a while earlier, and enough ammo for all of them. And new knives to rece his old one, of course¡ªTristan thought he could sharpen them, too. *** At the same time, Pierce was also preparing for the uing raid. The organization of the raid itself fell on other shoulders, but he still checked that all there went smoothly. Besides, this all didn''t cancel his other duties. Paperwork never went away. Pierce put away another read report into a "dealt with" stack, and the next one made him pause. ''It finally came, and not a moment toote. Time to see if there''s something interesting here, or if I was wrong to send an agent to look into this.'' The report had a picture attached to it, which was cut from a magazine. The picture showed a handsome, ck-haired young man performing on stage with a guitar. Tristan Gemello, the former pianist in Good Lion Bar. He left the job position without notice right in the middle of the street war, ming family circumstances, but Pierce had been wondering if these "circumstances" rted to Tristan Hayes. Hayes imed them to be cousins, and there were certainly a lot of simrities despite them having a different surname. But there was also something that made Pierce feel a nagging sense of wrongness. He didn''t enjoy feeling this way. Pierce read the report. He specifically ordered not to follow Gemello¡ªif Hayes noticed surveince, this could be problematic. The agent only searched for publicly avable information and asked people in Gemello''s surroundings. From what the agent gathered, Gemello was living an average life for a young artist with a rapidly growing career. He ate out, bought lots of clothes, and even bought himself a car a few days earlier. However, Gemello''s life more than a couple months before was aplete mystery. There was no one who could''ve been his family, and no mentions of old friends on his social pages. It felt like Gemello appeared out of nowhere. Perhaps it was an art pseudonym. After reading the rest of the report, Pierce just sat there, staring at the young man''s image. He had such handsome features that Pierce wanted to preserve them forever in epoxy resin. Put them on a wall in his secret room where he stashed his other trophies. ''Maybeter. When Hayes bes more dangerous than he is useful, I could do that.'' Pierce put the report away and returned to his paperwork. The raid was scheduled for tomorrow early morning¡ªthe time when all enemy soldiers will be least vignt, and most civilians will be still asleep. Only less than 24 hours was left until all people taking part in the raid will have to gather near the drop out points with their equipment. On stolen trucks with stolen number tes, these people will drive into Cuatro Angulos territory and enter the building crawling with the gang''s people. Pierce smiled. Then the carnage will begin¡ªand perhaps the problems Hayes brought recently will disappear on their own together with him. Chapter 68: The raid begins and theres trouble The morning of the raid. Tristan and four of his subordinates for today were sitting inside a stuffy, dusty truck, sweating in their heavy gear even though the September sun wasn''t up yet. His teamprised Tomas, with whom Tristan had good rapport, and his three best subordinates: Trey, Owen, and Cutout. At least, those were their working pseudonyms. Tomas didn''t have time to fully recover from his arm wound, but he stoically bore the pain, and his experiencepensated for any problems it might cause. To make sure they seeded, both teams were fit with the best gear avable, including earpieces formunication, bulletproof vests, teargas grenades, protective goggles, and respirator masks. Thest two were the main reasons everybody was sweltering. However, they couldn''t take them off now. Twelve minutes earlier, the Strike Team One, also known as Pierce''s team, went into the target building. Since then, Tristan was tracking their progress in his head from the reports of Pierce in his earpiece. At any moment, he could be called to interfere¡ªor decide to interfere himself. "Smooth progress so far," Pierce said, then there was a gunshot. "Resistance is minimal. The apartment with the stash should be the next one." Tristan frowned. He expected Cuatro Angulos to be better. If Pierce just returned with a sess, Tristan will have to work much harder to take his position. There was a loud bang in Tristan''s earpiece, which made him flinch. The bang echoed weakly in Tristan''s other ear, and it took him a moment to realize that it came from the target building. "What was that, Team One?" There was no sound except for static. Tristan sat straighter. "Team One? Answer!" "This sounded like a shbang," Tomas said, tilting his head. "Often thest thing you ever hear." Tristan''s eyes widened. "A shbang? Huh, what else did they smuggle from their homnd while they were at it? A rocketuncher? A tank?" There were a few tense chuckles at his remark. Tristan chuckled, too, although he didn''t feel humorous. He was just doing that to keep everybody''s morale high. Then Tristan stood up. "Prepare to move out. This is clearly a situation where Team One needs support." Everybody followed him when Tristan opened the truck''s doors and stepped out. The backstreet the truck was facing was empty so far, and the target building was just behind a corner. They were half-way there when Pierce''s voice sounded in Tristan''s earpiece again. "We were ambushed by the elite team. There are five of them, military-grade equipment, weapons, shbangs. They pinned us down in a western corner of the fourth floor¡ªTeam Two, you bettere here quickly. Not the same way we did." "Already on our way, Team One. What''s your status?" "Three dead, one wounded. But there were seven of them before now." Pierce huffed. "I had to do most of the work." Tristan nodded, more to himself than anyone, and calcted the routes in his head. Team One went through the fire entrance, but now that was definitely protected by alerted enemies. Same was with the main entrance. Good thing that Tristan''s team came prepared for something like this. They ran up to the narrow side of a rectangr four-floors apartment building. The first-floor windows were all covered by iron grates, but the second-floor windows were unprotected. Near them ran a drainpipe someone strong enough could climb. Tristan flexed his fingers while his mind ran through a mental calculus. If they entered through this window, they should enter an apartment that was already cleared by Pierce''s team earlier. "Team, we will go through here. I will climb first." Without a pause, he dashed up the wall, running a meter up and grabbing the drainpipe. Although all his equipment pulled Tristan down, he was still strong enough to hold himself with little difficulty. He climbed up with smooth, trained movements, and quickly reached the window. One strong blow with a butt of his handgun broke the window, and let Tristan reach the handle. After this, he just opened the window and got inside. The small, dingy room really was "clean", but not from dirt. Whoever lived here left plenty of empty wrappers and dirty clothing lying on the floor and furniture. However, there was no one alive¡ªonly a couple of corpses. After making sure there was no one around, Tristan got a rope from his tactical backpack, tying the other end to a bed, and waved them to follow. People in his team weren''t all as athletic as Tristan, but they were all strong enough to walk two floors up a wall with the help of a rope and a person pulling them up from the other side. Tomas wentst¡ªsince his arm was wounded, he just sat in a rope cradle while the rest of the team swiftly pulled him up. After that, Tristan''s team hurried to enter deeper into the building. On the doorstep of the first apartment, Tristan saw the first unusual corpse. The first two corpses he met were usual, since they were killed by usual means¡ªbullets. This one was cut with something sharp¡ªdefinitely a knife¡ªand in a manner Tristan had never seen before. There were two precise strikes to nerve centers. Each was debilitating and excruciatingly painful, but not enough to kill someone immediately. From the way the dead man was lying, and the way his face was frozen in a grimace of torment, he died unable to even scream¡ªbut wanting to very much. There were more corpses like these amongst the other ones Tristan saw on his way to Pierce. It was really foreboding, although not a single muscle on Tristan''s face showed his emotions. For his team, he projected only determination, calm, and confidence. "Team Two, we lost the elite team for a moment, now moving toward the fire stairs." Tristan responded almost immediately¡ªhisbat analysis let him understand the situation in a matter of moments. "Someone will be waiting for you there, Team One. Enemies." "I know," Pierce spat back like it was acid. "But this is all we have, so you better be there, too!" His team heard that, so Tristan only needed to nce at them for a wordlessmand to run even faster. Soon, they could hear voices of the enemies¡ªand Tristan''s team met them with guns zing. Chapter 69: Bullet time Before they turned the corner, Tristan nced at his teammates. "I go first, you cover." He kept a gun in each hand. Normally, they would throw a tear gas grenade at enemies first, but if Pierce''s tear gas grenades didn''t help him, then these elites were protected from it, anyway. Tristan turned the corner, ready to shoot. The enemy elites were there, and one of them already had their guns aimed at Tristan''s direction. The time seemed to slow and be thick as msses. Everything slowed down, from the enemy''s movements to Tristan''s own. It was the bullet time. A split second was stretched into ages, in which Tristan could examine everything in front of him in detail. The electric lights weren''t shattered yet, and gave enough light. Four people stood in a stairwaynding: two closer to Tristan, two near where the hallway leading into the building, one more was barely visible deeper inside. Each of the elites was covered in bulletproof armor from head to toe. Their faces were covered by goggles and respirator masks simr to ones Tristan''s team was wearing, and they were wielding AK-47 rifles. Not only they had better gear than anything in King Lion Gang, these people held themselves better-than-average grunts from Cuatro Angulos. Their tactics and bearing were clearly a level above, even if it was far from that of actual spec ops soldiers. Besides the living people, there were three bodies lying on the ground in the room. Two of them belonged to Pierce''s people and one wearing the same type of equipment as the other elite enemies. In slow motion, Tristan saw the closest enemy slowly aim his gun at his head, and others gradually turned their heads toward Tristan as well. While the enemy was still spending precious milliseconds to react, Tristan already was ever so slowly aiming at his head and pressing the gun''s trigger. At the same time, his left hand aimed at the second closest enemy. The bullets flew out with a stretched-out bang, leaving visible ripples of air behind, like in movies. Then the time returned to its normal state. The first enemy dropped dead with a bullet hole in his goggles. The second was hit in the head, but the bullet nced off his helmet harmlessly. Tristan''s teammates rushed in too, taking the surviving rest of the team unawares for precious seconds. The front men fell to a knee, and all five began shooting at the elites from Cuatro Angulos indiscriminately. An entire hail of bullets went at them¡ªhowever, after the first moment of disorientation, the enemy still had the strength to fight back! Another enemy fell with a bullet to his head, but the rest were too heavily protected to be killed by handguns like Tristan''s team had. A couple of them even used the dead bodies of theirrades as improvised shields and opened fire back with their AK-47s. The volley of automatic fire immediately dropped one of Tristan''s people down, dead or wounded. There wasn''t any cover to hide from it in the narrow room. All Tristan and his people could do was either drop to the ground or retreat to the staircase. There were shouts of pain and swears, both in English and Spanish. It was aplete, concentrated chaos. And in the midst of this, Tristan saw an enemy pull a cylindrical grenade from his belt, pull the pin out, and throw the grenade at Tristan''s team. At that moment, the time slowed down again. That was a shbang grenade¡ªTristan has seen the pictures. Other men from the Cuatro Angulos team must''ve heard a signal from his teammate, because they were already turning away from where it was going tond. However, even if Tristan shouted "shbang!" now, he knew his own group wouldn''t be fast enough to do the same. This was doom. It was approaching Tristan slowly, but inevitably. Disoriented by a shbang, he and his team will be helpless as babies. But despair or fear didn''t grab Tristan''s soul at that moment, not even a little. It was now, when he was running on enough adrenaline to revive a horse, with his eardrums close to bursting from the endless gunshots, Tristan feltplete rity. The feeling was like being on stage. Inspiration, but to fight and kill. Tristan raised his gun and aimed at the flying shbang. Thanks to the bullet time, even hitting a flying target like that under a precise angle was easy. He pressed the trigger and closed his eyes shut. The time sped up. The bullet hit the shbang head-on, throwing it right back into the middle of the enemy team. And since they were turning away from Tristan''s team, half of them were right at shbang when it exploded. The sh was blinding even through closed eyes. The bang was loud enough to be physically painful, and leave behind nothing but ringing silence. Even the sound of system notifications didn''t pierce it, leaving them to wait their hour for who knows how long. When Tristan opened his eyes again, through the ck and white spots, he saw that all the enemies were stumbling on their feet,pletely stunned¡ªjust like Tristan''s teammates. He was the only one who still had most of his senses! Tristan grinned, then began shooting. Without bullets forcing him to stay down, this was as easy as shooting beer cans. In four presses of a trigger, all the remaining enemies were shot dead. Tristan slowly walked forward, not lowering his gun, but feeling his heartbeat slowly decreasing its tempo. Then he nced at his team. They still looked wobbly on their feet. Some took off their goggles to rub their eyes. Tristan''s treating injuries skill told him they will stay like that for at least a few minutes. ''This is the chance I needed,'' Tristan thought. ''These people will be dead weight for just enough time that I can deal with Pierce!'' By Tristan''s estimation, Pierce was just ahead. Tristan reloaded and walked there. Chapter 70 : Tristans identities are discovered! Tristan found Pierce peeking out of the hallway from inside of one of the apartments on this floor. There was a bloody gash on his temple, but otherwise, he looked healthy. He also looked strange in fullbat gear instead of a suit, but that was another story. Pierce''s eyes were still visible through the goggles and easy to recognize, although he was wearing contact lenses instead of sses today. At the sight of Tristan, Pierce narrowed his eyes and mouthed something from his cover. "I can''t hear you. A shbang. The coast is clear, though, you cane out," Tristan said, carefully not raising his voice despite not hearing himself. There were no enemies in sight, but Tristan still held his guns at the ready. He was tense, but did his best to y it off as being prepared for the appearance of more enemies. He had to be ready for those, anyway. They could be anywhere. He just wanted Pierce to show himself from behind his cover. In this moment, if Tristan acted, Pierce had a good chance to close the metal door shut in front of Tristan and be safe. However, the suspicion in Pierce''s eyes didn''t lessen after Tristan''s words. Andrew Pierce didn''t live as long as he had, in a position he had, with hobbies he had, because he trusted people easily. Pierce''s own remaining grunt had lost consciousness from blood loss a minute ago. Tristan''s teammates were nowhere to be seen, either. Even if they all fell during the fight with the elite squad, the fact of Tristan''s survival was impressive. Tristan didn''t even have any major injuries, only a few scrapes here and there. "You have really risen in ranks and skills quickly, Hayes. Too quickly for your own good. Geniuses like you fare better in lesspetitive fields than organized crime." Tristan tilted his head slightly. He didn''t hear the words, but he saw the look in Pierce''s eyes. First there was quiet contempt and annoyance, and then¡ªa sh of realization. Tristan frowned. "I said that I can''t hear you! Come out, we have to hurry before any more reinforcementse!" Meanwhile, Pierce was thinking hard. The pieces of suspicions and information Pierce gathered for thest months were finally crystallizing into a theory. Although that theory was utterly oundish, Pierce knew not to dismiss theories just because of that. There were too many incidents with Hayes and Gemello hanging in the same circles, living around the same ces, and, of course, never appearing together. All these instances could be exined, but some exnations were flimsier than the others. The very first time Pierce met Hayes, for example. Back then, Hayes stepped in to protect his "cousin" from some nobodies, but why did he only do that after Gemello ran away? Not only that, but the clothes they wore¡ªfrom the description of witnesses Pierce talked with back then¡ªwere identical. If Hayes and Gemello didn''t look so different, Pierce would''ve thought they were the same person much earlier. Their faces were not at all like each other''s, despite them having simr bone structures and hair. But for all Pierce knew, it was all makeup. When that realizationpletely solidified in Pierce''s head, Tristan suddenly felt dizzy and weak in his knees. A red notification window shed in front of him. [User, your double identity has been discovered! As a penalty, all your attributes and skills are decreased by 10% for each living person who knows about your double identity.] Tristan''s eyes widened. Ten percent out of everything he had¡­ He felt like someone punched him in the gut and cut half of his ligaments. Although the dizziness passed quickly, the weakness stayed, because Tristan physically became weaker and frailer. His hands, too, became less steady on the weapon. ''Pierce, even if I didn''t already want to kill you, by outing me like this, you left me no choice!'' Even if Tristan adjusted to living with a 10% penalty, as soon as Pierce told this to anyone else, 10% will be 20%. And after that, 20% could be 100% in an instant! For Tristan, this will mean death, whether from his own system or from the gangsters. At the same time, Pierce had no idea why Tristan suddenly stumbled like that¡ªbut he recognized his opportunity. Like a predator, Pierce knew that this was the ideal opportunity to strike, and he took it. He threw the door open and charged at Tristan like a bolt of lightning with two knives shing in his hands. There were only a few meters separating Pierce from Tristan, and Pierce was crossing them in a blink of an eye, with a smirk on his face! Pierce had already gruesomely killed plenty of people in this building. Although he didn''t like risking his life inbat, Pierce was an expert knife fighter! He was the only one to survive unwounded from his group, because of his incredible catlike reflexes, which let Pierce cut down some of the enemies ambushing him before they could even shoot. Then, he used their bodies as cover as he retreated. When Pierce raised his hand to throw a knife in Tristan''s throat, he knew it willnd much sooner than Tristan would aim at him and press the trigger of his guns. Just a moment ago, Tristan was frozen with shock because of something he saw in Pierce''s face. Now Pierce recognized the murderous look in Tristan''s eyes, but it was toote for him. However, while Pierce was assured of his victory, for Tristan he still moved so slowly that if he could read thoughts, he''d have time to read his entire internal monologue! ''Bullet time, you are the most useful talent I bought so far,'' Tristan thought with an internal smirk. As soon as Pierce lunged, it activated. Although Tristan moved even slower than Pierce, he needed almost no time to aim his guns at Pierce''s head. Even with his reaction speed, Pierce was too slow to realize that his death was almost there. Tristan pressed the trigger. ''Adios, Andrew.'' Chapter 71 : Clearing the way up the rank ladder In normal time, no one was fast enough to see, much less dodge a bullet. Pierce fell to the ground with a hole in his head, skidding over the floor for another half a meter from his own inertia and smearing blood on the ground. Tristan let out a breath, feeling immediately refreshed. All the skills he just lost had returned to him¡ªTristan didn''t need to look at his system status to see it. He did, anyway, at the same time ncing at the backlog of missed notifications. [You have scared 3 people of high skill. Reward: your PP increased by 200!] [You have impressed 3 people. Reward: your PP increased by 70.] [Dexterity attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] [Strength attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] [Firearms shooting skill increased by 2. Reward: your PP increased by 20.] [Combat analysis skill increased by 2. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [Observation skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] [======] [Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)] [Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.] [Pop-star rank: Tiny Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Rook.] [Pop-star Points: 2510] [Criminal Points: 0] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 80] [Charisma: 147] [Fearsomeness: 135] [Strength: 223] [Dexterity: 228] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 657] [Dancing: 628] [ying guitar: 794] [Music theory: 279] [Music production: 521] [Acting: 413] [Songwriting: 532] [Voice control: 408] [Stage presence: 159] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1224] [Observation: 923] [Driving: 618] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 816] [Athletics: 419] [Treating injuries: 201] [Lockpicking: 1] [Combat analysis: 505] [Hacking: 1406] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [Bullet Time] [======] Everything was as it had to be. Tristan closed the status panels and crept forward to the apartment where Pierce stayed. From his earlier reports, there had to be one more survivor from Team One. If he was a witness to Tristan''s murder of Pierce, he will have to be silenced, one way or another. When Tristan entered the cluttered apartment Pierce hid in, he saw a trail of blood on the floor, and at one end of it, an unmoving man slumped near a wall. There was a huge bloody spot on his arm. That was one of Pierce''s people, but he clearly didn''t see or hear a thing. Tristan got closer and checked the man''s pulse. He was still alive, but still bleeding out¡ªthe bullet must''ve hit a major blood vessel in the arm. Knowledge from Tristan''s treating injuries skill appeared in his head. This man could still be saved, and Tristan moved quickly to do it. In a small first-aid kit in Tristan''s tactical backpack was a tourniquet. After cutting off the wounded man''s sleeve, Tristan put a tourniquet on the arm, then swiftly bandaged the wound itself. By that time, the ringing in Tristan''s ears diminished enough that he began hearing other things, too. This meant that his teammates had to begin recovering their senses, too. Tristan switched the earpiece channel to contact them. "Team Two, this is your leader. Can you hear me?" After a moment, Tomas responded. "Somewhat. It''s still all clear here. We got them good. Some wounded on our side, but all can still walk and do things." "Great. I found what''s left of Team One. A single survivor, unconscious. Let''s grab him and the stash." Tristan instructed his team where to move, and soon the men reunited. "We''ve seen Pierce on the way here," Tomas noted, chewing on his unlit cigar. "I thought he''d hunker down until help came." Tristan shrugged, careful to act nonchnt. "Maybe he thought it did until one of the rifle guys shot him." Tomas grunted. "Good riddance." And that''s where the investigation into Pierce''s death ended. Even criminals and thugs, robbers and murderers, had something to say about a borderline serial killer. The kind that shows in news and detective stories. After that, Tristan ordered Owen to carry the wounded toward their exit point, while the rest went for the drug stash. It was inside one of the apartments, with its location already discovered and cleared of the guards by Team One. Another unremarkable apartment, save for the traces of a gunfight: bullet holes, remaining whiffs of tear gas, and bloodied bodies. The wares were already loaded in bags to be distributed to vendors. About 50 kilograms of hard drugs, worth millions of dors, just lying around. "This is it!" Tristan holstered his guns and pped his hands. "Pack it up and go. Don''t try to sneak any for yourself¡ªyou will get paid for this mission enough that you won''t need to!" The men''s respirator masks hid their smirks, but the promise of a reward gave them a second wind after a tense fight earlier. The team began taking the bags and put them into their backpacks, before hurrying toward the exit. With his hearing recovering more and more every minute, and the apartment''s window broken by a stray shot, Tristan heard shouting from the street below. "Hurry, Team Two! The Angulos got reinforcementsing!" Not that people needed encouragement. They ran not just like their life depended on it, but like they were returning home to respect and rewards. Twice as fast as they came in, Tristan''s team descended the stairs. Tristan was leading the way, with his guns ready to shoot. They caught up with Owen, who was slowed down by a wounded person on his shoulders, then sped up again together with the two of them. On the second floor, Tristan heard footsteps from the fire stairs and the main stairs. Without a pause, he turned toward the same apartment they entered through. Tristan and his team were almost there when a Hispanic-looking man with wide eyes and a gun in his hands turned a corner. The man opened his mouth to shout in rm and raised his gun, but Tristan reacted faster. Since he got the Bullet Time talent, he would always be faster! The man died from a gunshot to his neck. However, the sound instantly alerted everybody on the floor. "Run!" Chapter 72: We won! We won? "Run!" Tristan shouted, gesturing to his team to get out of the window. They needed no further orders¡ªone of Tristan''s subordinates, Cutout, already fastened a rope and began sliding toward the ground on it. Tristan stayed at the back of the group, ready to shoot whoever else appeared. Anyone looking from the side¡ªlike his other team members, which were waiting for the way to clear to follow Cutout¡ªcould''ve thought Tristan was a caring leader, who wanted to ensure the safety of his subordinates before his own. In reality, this was only a secondary concern. The first thought in his mind was for ten million dors in his team''s backpacks! As for his morality, Tristan found it more and morex these days. The first three people easily reached the ground, but Owen, who carried the wounded man, couldn''t do the same easily. Owen awkwardly tried to hold the wounded man closer while holding onto the rope, but he wasn''t able to get a tight enough grip. Although only his eyes were visible through the gear, Owen looked close to giving up on the wounded man, but unwilling to do so. He might have been just a grunt in the King Lion Gang, but one of the core ts of the gang was to look out for each other, even if the King Lion''s orders always came first. "Get down, Owen!" Tristan ordered, noticing this. "I will get the wounded down myself." Owen''s eyes shone with relief. "Got it, boss." Owen grabbed the rope and went down at the same time as two more Cuatro Angulos people entered the hallway Tristan was monitoring. Like before, Tristan shot first. However, the aim from his left hand was slightly off, and instead of hitting the target''s forehead, it veered off and only grazed his skull. The Angulos grunt screamed profanities in Spanish and stumbled back, too disoriented by the wound to immediately shoot at Tristan. The next moment, he fell next to hisrade with a more precise wound in his face. More people were very close. Tristan holstered his weapons and went for the wounded man. ''I really should''ve just left him here,'' he thought. But since he already decided to save that man, giving up now to Tristan just felt whimsical and weak. He was swearing under his breath, but he still went to do it. His teammates were waiting below the window. First, Tristan took off his backpack and threw it down, where Owen immediately picked it up and gave Tristan a wave. Then Tristan hauled the unconscious man up over his shoulders. He was still breathing, at least, and even stirring a little when Tristan jostled his injury. It was awkward as hell, but Tristan managed to reach for the rope with his hands, while the wounded man was slung over him like a very inconvenient backpack. The position made it incredibly hard to have a good grip on the rope. Tristan felt like he would fall off the moment he stepped out of the window. There was shouting just outside of the room. Tristan pushed himself out just in time to see another person from Cuatro Angulos kick the door open. Then Tristan began sliding down the rope dangerously fast. He gripped it as hard as he could, feeling pain in his fingers from the tight grip even withbat gloves. Hended heavily on his feet, but sprung up immediately. "Boss, you got him!" Owen shouted. "Let me take him back, I¡ª" "There''s no time. To the car, quickly!" [Ding!] [You have gained the additional respect and trust of 4 people. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] Tristan blinked at the notification, then at the surrounding men, who threw him nces shining with awe even as they ran. ''So that''s possible, too? Points for deepening respect I already have. Makes sense.'' Even with all the points in his stats, Tristan could barely keep up with his team while half-carrying, half-dragging a man wearing his own heavy equipment. The wounded man was still slowing the entire team down. But the slow pace also gave Tristan time to turn around and watch the window they had just left through. When the first person peeked out of it, Tristan shot him before the enemy could shoot first. However, the distance, the angle and the dead weight made aiming much harder, and Tristan only hit the window frame. The enemy hid back, at least. There were moreing, but Tristan''s team was getting farther and farther away. Soon, they reached their truck and piled in. The driver, who was waiting for them all that time, started driving even before the doors of the truck closed. As soon as Tristan pulled them together, Cutout let out a bark ofughter. "We did it, guys! We did it! We are going to be rich!" He grabbed his respirator mask and threw it on the floor. "Fucking hell, after this mission I''m flying to Hawaii and staying there until I be dirt poor again!" Others began taking off their masks too, showing off their grins and cheering. "Hell yeah!" "Why Hawaii? Think bigger! Egypt! Italy! Thand! I want to have that exotic Thai massage!" Tristan grinned, too. He wanted to say something inspirational, but then noticed Tomas'' tense expression. The scarred man said nothing, but that expression alone reminded Tristan that they hadn''t won yet. To win, they had to bring the prize home. "Team¡­ Sit down. You can celebrateter¡ªwhen we actually get paid. Check on your wounds first. Is there anything that needs bandaging?" Tristan''s serious words swiftly returned the mood to a more professional one. People sat back down and began inspecting their injuries¡ªall shallow¡ªas much as the shaking truck allowed. Then the driver''s voice sounded in Tristan''s earpiece. "Boss, we are in trouble. There are two cars on our tail, both full of angry Mexicans. They are going to get at shooting distance soon¡ª" There was a gunshot, and a hole appeared in the truck''s walls only ten centimeters above Tristan''s head. ''Jinxed it.'' Chapter 73: A shot for a shot "Of course they are chasing us. If someone stole ten million from me, I''d chase the bastard, too," Tristan muttered under his breath. Next moment, everybody in the truck was thrown to the wall when the driver pressed on the gas pedal. Louder, Tristan shouted, "Tomas, help me return the fire!" Out of all his team, Tomas had the steadiest aim, Tristan had noticed. Now the scarred man nodded and together they opened the back door of the truck enough to shoot. There was no point in more people trying to shoot back. The truck was wide enough that they could''ve fit, but only two men at the edges had something to hold on to. The truck''s driver was trying to get away from the chase. The road was empty enough that he could speed to the limit of the car''s ability¡ªbut he still had to veer away from obstacles every other second. And when the truck drove straight ahead, it would always hit a pothole. Tristan had to hold for dear for any support he could reach to not fall out of the truck entirely. It was almost impossible to aim in circumstances like these! From the open doors, Tristan saw the two cars chasing them. They were twenty meters away, and the shot that hit the truck was a very lucky one from this distance. However, it was rapidly decreasing. Tristan grit his teeth and tried to aim with the hand not busy holding onto the truck''s doors. Next to him, Tomas did the same. However, their first few shots wentpletely off-target. Their enemies, ones that tried to shoot out of the side windows, were just as sessful. The distance decreased to fifteen meters, and more shots began hitting close to their targets. Tristan opened his eyes wide and tried to get in the rhythm of the truck''s mad shaking. Sadly, there was no rhythm. Even shooting while sitting on top of a galloping horse would''ve been easier. And the bullet time wasn''t activating, because, clearly, the situation wasn''t dangerous enough. Tristan''s entire shooting skill was telling him that even they weren''t enough. So he sprayed bullets and prayed that they would hit at least someone or something. A couple of secondster, a lucky shot shattered the windshield of an enemy car, making it veer to the side and slow down. A few secondster, the driver¡ªonly scratched by ss¡ªgot himself back together and sped up to catch up with the chase, but at the moment, that car was still biting dust. The other car, though, got way too close. Although Tristan''s eyes were wide open, he still noticed the random bullet approaching him way too close. It already passed half of the way toward him. The time slowed down, but this time, Tristan really was helpless to do anything about this. ''I''m going to be shot for real. In the chest, it looks like.'' There was enough time to ept this fate a little. Inwardly, Tristan grinned bitterly. He got what he wanted from the start of this fight, but at what cost? Wasting no more thought on this, Tristan focused on his aim. In the slowed down time perception, every lurch and turn of the truck was as slow as gentleing and going of sea waves on the shore in good weather. He pressed the trigger, and the time sped up. Tristan''s shot hit the driver of the front enemy car right in the eye, sttering the man''s brains all over his seat. At the same time, the bullet with Tristan''s name on it hit him on the right side of his chest. Pain exploded over Tristan''s torso, stealing his breath, and the impact threw him back a step. He''d fall downpletely and could''ve fallen out of the truck if Tomas wasn''t there to catch him. Although he was protected by a bulletproof vest, it was a light and weak type! Level IIIA Ker vests like ones given to the strike teams would save one''s life from a bullet, but not save their body from bruises and possibly even bone fractures. Tristan was sure that the elite fighters they''ve met were wearing stronger bulletproof vests that could shake off bullets much easier. Although low-level vests were lighter, at this moment, Tristan wished the gang bothered to buy more expensive and tough ones. It hurt! But the shock was momentary, and Tristan was used to pushing through the pain. Although his chest red with it at every breath, he still pulled himself together and looked at the chasing cars. The car without a driver lost control, despite the front passenger''s attempt at taking over the wheel. It swiveled to the side and drove right into a car parked on a sidewalk. The second car tried to drive the pile around, but caught it with a side and ended up driving off the road entirely as a result. Behind Tristan, someone swore in disbelief. "Fucking hell! That was an insane shot, or insane luck¡­" "Quiet. Hayes, how are you?" Tomas asked, pulling the truck''s doors back again. There was a police siren wailing in the distance. Tristan cringed and sat down on the floor. "I will live, thanks." He turned on his headpiece. "Hey, driver, get us to the switch car before we enter a second car chase today!" "On it, already on it! We will be there in five minutes." And they were. The truck was ditched and changed to a smaller van, where the team had to sit almost on each other''s heads. The van drove around the city for a while longer, making sure that no one else was tailing it, before going to the rendezvous point. It was a seemingly ordinary bakery, but Tristan''s group drove to its back. From the side, if they weren''t all wieldingbat gear and covered in dust, grime and blood (except Tristan, who was only dirty), they would have looked like ordinary deliverymen bringing baking ingredients. But they were bringing special flour instead, and in the basement, Leon himself was waiting for the raid''s results. Chapter 74: Retuning with a victory In the bakery''s basement was a spacious room, furnished with a couch on one side of it, and several cupboards on the other. The walls were painted hospital-green, but someone taped on them a bunch of assorted 80-x rock band posters and calendars with girls in bikinis. The ce had been built as a bomb shelter before the building above became a bakery and now served as a secure safehouse and stash for all things illegal. The bakery owner was paid for his silence and for allowing gangsters in, unlike many others who had to pay the gangsters'' protection fees themselves. Leon von was sitting on the couch, with his massive figure taking most of it. Two bodyguards of his stood quietly in a corner, tensing when Tristan entered the room. When the rest of his group followed, the ce quickly became cramped. Leon didn''t stand up to greet people, instead lounging on the couch with an air of the king of the local jungle. However, his eyes flickered around the group. "Hayes. Was your hunt sessful? Is there anyone left standing outside?" Tristan shook his head and took off his backpack. "No, Mr. von. Almost everybody from Pierce''s team, including the man himself, died in the ambush from Cuatro Angulos elite forces¡ªthe same ones we heard about. But¡­" He opened the backpack and dramatically turned it upside down. The bags of white powder spilled out in a pile¡ªeach of them containing several thousand dors'' worth of illegal drugs. Leon''s bodyguards sucked in shocked breaths while Leon himself leaned forward, his eyes wide and shining with greed. "We got it all, Mr. von." "Excellent!" Leon stood up and looked at the people standing behind Tristan. Each of these fighters was tired and wounded, but under that look they tried to straighten up. "Leave the drugs here and get your rest. The doctor was warned to expect patients today. But before you go¡­" Leon gestured at one of his bodyguards, who picked up a suitcase from the ground. "Hayes, give these people their share. Divide the leftovers as you wish." Tristan nodded, taking the suitcase from the bodyguard and opening it. Inside were a dozen stic bags, inside of each was a thick wad of cash. Thanks to his observation skill, Tristan could tell without counting that there was $5000 in each wad. The reward promised for the sess of the operation itself¡ª$5000 for grunts and $10000 for Tristan and Pierce because they were leading the groups. Besides that, everybody was promised the same amount some timeter, after the drugs were sold. It was left unspoken that there were also possible promotions in sight. Right now, Tristan just gave everybody their five thousand (the unconscious man''s share was put into his pocket). As for the rest, he hesitated. Since four people died, one of them being Pierce, there was $25000 left. Tristan couldn''t split it between six survivors without opening the cash bags. He could take it for himself, but this was a sure way to get on everybody''s wrong foot. Tristan also could split it between his team, or between everybody but himself. (He had a flickering thought that maybe this money could be given to the families of the dead, but what kind of thug had a functional family? Please. If they had one, they wouldn''t be doing organized crime.) Finally, Tristan gave everybody one more wad of cash each, equalizing everybody''s share to $10000. "You risked your lives together with me," he said, smirking carelessly. "You deserve some money for it, at least." This generous gesture was met with bright eyes and wide smiles. "Boss, chief, I''d say you deserve it more¡ªbut I ain''t gonna refuse money, ha-ha-ha!" "Heh, with that, I might actually afford cigars worth smoking." "Shit, if only every risky job paid that well!" At that moment, there was nothing but zing adoration in the way these people looked at Tristan. Like they would follow him into Hell itself, sure that he will bring them out safely. [Ding!] [You have earned the unwavering loyalty of 4 skilled people. Reward: your PP increased by 600!] [Ding!] [You have earned a moderate amount of respect and infamy in the criminal world. Reward: your PP increased by 1500!] ''I guess this means that more people are bound to hear about me in the future,'' Tristan thought, ncing at the notification. After the money was given out, Tristan''s people left the room, eager to have rest and medical attention. When they were left alone, Leon approached Tristan, towering over him for a head. The gang boss towered over Tristan with a narrow-eyed look. Tristan met that gaze squarely, mentally bracing himself for whatever was about to happen. Even if that was an attack. "What happened to Pierce?" Leon asked. "I know him. For all his cowardice, he''s the best knife fighter I''ve ever seen. In close quarters, he''s an utter menace." Tristan shrugged, putting his acting skills into acting believable. "From what he said over the radio before going silent, he was hit by a shbang, and when I found him, he had a bullet hole in his head." Tristan paused and smirked ruefully. "A knife to a gunfight, I guess." Leon snorted and gave Tristan a pat on the shoulder before stepping back. "And isn''t that just true? I suppose I will have to find a recement. Pierce''s secretary can do the legal part of his job, but the rest¡­ Well. I had some recements in mind." He looked away from Tristan, and he knew he had to step up. Of course, even with all his skills, Hayes was still just a "talented newbie" in Leon''s eyes. This time, Tristan had to push himself. He leaned forward, and his eyes lit up with stunning and beautiful determination. "Mr. von, you don''t have to think about it. I can do everything Pierce did¡ªI was the one sent to do half his tasks! You saw what I can do as a leader. Please, don''t waste my talents on more grunt work!" Chapter 75: Thats a lot of Pop-star Points Leon stared at the young man in front of him. Only two months earlier, he was a stranger to his gang, and now he dared to ask for a high-ranked position like Pierce''s. If that was anyone else, Leon would''veughed in his face. But when Tristan Hayes was the one saying those passionate words, Leon didn''t feel likeughing at all. Not only did he already proved himself on various missions, but there was something about him that made Leon think like he stared not at some grunt, but on almost an equal. An adolescent lion who was letting out his first roar. It would''ve been a waste to leave a person like that to do grunt work. Next to him, all the other candidates Leon had for the position feltcking in all aspects except the time they spent in King Lion Gang. At the same time, Leon felt like Tristan wasn''t a person who would stop with just King Lion Gang. An ambition like that will never stop reaching forward. Leon smiled. A king of the jungle knew when an emperor in the making stood next to him. Smaller minds would''ve killed Tristan before he became a threat, but these people would never see beyond their small kingdoms to be an empire. Unlike them, Leon dreamed about his organization bing even bigger. Something to rule not just a few districts, or a city, but the entire state of California! Or even more. "Alright, Hayes. Consider the job to be yours. Show me the best you can do! Pierce was always very cautious in his actions, but an ambitious youth like you can reach out and do things he never would''ve dared to. Great things." Tristan''s eyes widened. He didn''t expect Leon to agree so easily. For a moment, he just studied the man''s expression, seeking a trap of some sort, but he appeared to be earnest. This was shocking and suspicious, but Tristan still smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Mr. von." [Ding!] [Your Criminal rank has changed from Rook to Made Man! Reward: your PP increased by 2500!] ''Damn, that rank increase gave me more points than my Pop-star ranks¡­ I guess this one is more important or something?'' While Tristan was distracted, Leon moved to the bags of drugs strewn around. "Your first task in your new position, Hayes, will be to distribute these drugs. There is too much to sell at once, and only on your part of our gang''s territory, but a fourth of this is yours, and I want my first hundred thousand dors by next month. Of course, the ten percent of the profits are all yours." Tristan nodded, but before he could say anything, he was hit by a new notification. [Ding!] [You have pped the face of an incredibly powerful person. Reward: your PP increased by 1500!] ''That must be Cuatro Angulos¡­ And it doesn''t look like only Quixada is angry this time.'' Tristan smirked. He will have to organize everything, and also watch out for the target that just appeared on his back. But the benefits were worth the risk. *** The mass gang shootout appeared on the news the next day. Among apparent gangsters, there were several civilian victims who just lived in a gang-affiliated building for whatever reasons. Tristan thought they were either family members of gangsters who agreed with the lifestyle of organized crime, or terminally stupid people¡ªeither way, people destined for premature death. But Nel had a different opinion. "The article says there was an entire car chase! Damn, if this was in a movie, it''d be lit, but here? I live in this city! Now I can''t go eat authentic Mexican food without thinking that I might get shot." Tristan and Nel were eating out again that noon, sitting at a corner table of their favorite burger joint. Last night, Tristan spent 6 hours straight reading through Pierce''s documents and settling into his unfinished business. Before that, he only had basic first aid and a shot of a painkiller for the bruise on his chest. By the end of the night, Tristan had a new skill, "Governing" at 5. And no Criminal Points whatsoever to increase it, which would''ve been very helpful. So when Tristan finally had free time, he eagerly went to meet with Nel. Just to rx, and perhaps do something musical togetherter. Hearing the retold piece of news made Tristan scoff. "It''s America, Nel. You can''t make two steps into a dark alleyway without someone osting you with a gun." "That''s a bit more than osting¡­" Nel shrugged, but moved on. "Anyway, hey, I had a thought yesterday. I heard from some people online that judges at thest round of the Californian Young Star contest look not just for quality, but for poprity. Since it''s made for TV and all. If the show gets high enough ratings on state TV, it can even be shown on nation-wide channels!" Tristan nodded. "I didn''t hear about it, but that makes sense. I bet at least some judges are bribed, too¡ªnot just by the artists, but even by their agencies. Hell, if I was a judge, I could''ve started an entire bribe auction over it." Nel waved his hand dismissively. "I don''t believe it. They would''ve been outed ages ago if this was true. Anyway, I was saying that we should promote ourselves! Our agency is about to help with that, but why not give them ideas? Since we are in one agency, why not do a promotion together? If you aren''t as busy anymore as you''ve been recently. My social page doesn''t have all that many followers, but we can still share them." "A promotion together? Interesting!" Tristan leaned forward over the table with their food. "When you said that, I immediately had an idea." Nel grinned, leaning forward as well. The excited energy between the two was almost palpable. "I bet it''s the same one I had, because great minds think alike." Tristan chuckled. "Then is your idea..?" Chapter 76 : A plan for a self-promotion "Then is your idea to make covers of each other''s contest songs?" Nel leaned back and pped his hands. "You read my mind, man! I already had some ideas about what I could do with your song to make it sound even MORE fresh! And we can make an entire music video out of it. Two of them!" Tristan grinned, because that was true. Now that he had the backing of an agency, he didn''t need to worry about not having equipment and personnel for making high-quality music videos. Hell, he won''t need to even rent time in a music recording studio anymore! "Yeah, I''d love to make a cover of your ''Jester Jester'', Nel. I have to think about the time we have left until the next round of the contest, too, though." Especially since he had to manage his crime life as well. The contest was in December, and today was October. Two months was neither a little, nor a lot. After yesterday, Tristan knew that other small gangs will look at Cuatro Angulos like sharks in a tank on a fallen prisoner. And he better move quickly himself, so King Lion Gang got its lion''s share. The thought made him cringe at the awful pun and rub his aching chest. This was going to hurt his performances in the next couple of weeks, too, but Tristan didn''t have the time to waste and fully recover. Seeing the motion, Nel frowned in concern, then squinted. "Are you OK, Tris? You look kinda scuffed today. Is that a bruise under your concealer?" He pointed at Tristan''s face. The bruise on Tristan''s jaw was small, something he didn''t even remember earning. Tristan waved the concern away. "I just hit myself with a barbell bar yesterday when doing lifts like a total dumbass." Tristan barely went to a gym these days, preferring to get his muscles with system points. His time could be spent in better ways. Nelughed. "That happens with everybody who goes to the gym, I bet! Or something like that. I remember the time I dropped a dumbbell on my leg¡­ I actually broke a toe bone! So you are lucky to only have a bruise. It won''t make your singing any worse, I''m sure. Anyway, I know you gotta make a new song in two months, but something tells me that ''Dragonfly'' didn''t take you a year, man. Either way, I''m ready to help you out with this. Anything you need!" Tristan nodded. Nel''s eagerness and surety in Tristan rekindled his determination to seed. He had to do better than best! And with as much PP as he had, there was no way for him to fail. "Then I can do the same." *** After finishing their meal, Tristan and Nel contacted the manager, which was given to them by the GTG agency. The manager''s name was Derek Writfield, and he actually worked with both of them, along with a few other talents in the agency. This was verymon in smaller agencies like GTG. Tristan knew he could''ve pushed to have a dedicated agent, but for now, he didn''t have the need to. In fact, he barely spoke with Derek until now. The manager met both young stars in one of the GTG office rooms, where Tristan sat on a guest chair, and Nel immediately sprawled on the couch Derek, instead of taking the seat at the table, also took a guest chair. He fit there. The manager had neat, but average looks and height, and a resting expression of someone extremely approachable, but not one to approach. His hair was boring brown and cut short; his eyes were dull gray. As if topensate, he wore a bright red suit that stood out like a shbang grenade, but only hid Derek himself more. "That''s an excellent suggestion," Derek said after Tristan and Nel exined to him their idea. "But Mr. Gemello, the next round of the Californian Young Star contest is only in two months. Will you be ready for it in time? Perhaps it will be better to record your part after the contest isplete?" The way Derek spoke was also extremely non-aggravating, to the point that required both talent and skill. This tone of voice was the reason he was chosen to work with these two artists, even though he wasn''t usually assigned to fresh artists. For a reason Derek wasn''t told, it was extremely important that these two were kept happy, no matter what. And keeping moody stars happy was Derek''s specialty! All the other artists under Derek''s management were divas that were popr enough that stardom hit their heads, even if they weren''t actually very sessful. But looking at Tristan and Gemello, Derek once again silently wondered why he was needed here. Tristan sure was arrogant, but seemed coolheaded; and Nel was obviously a very easygoing person. Tristan huffed. "I can do both in time, Mr. Writfield. If necessary, I will work without sleep to prepare¡­ But it won''t be necessary." The look in Tristan''s eyes left no doubts about that. Derek smiled apologetically. "Alright. We should also think this through a little. I feel like this idea can be improved even more. Perhaps if you record a mini-documentary about your unlikely friendship as rivals, Mr. Gemello, Mr. Mayar? People like that sort of thing." "Oooh, that''s even better!" Nel eximed. Unlike him, Tristan frowned. Their friendship started when they were threatened by armed thugs! Which neither of them reported. Fabricating stories wasmon in showbiz, but it added ayer of trouble. The idea itself, though, was great. Derek sure had a knack for this thing, and plenty of experience Tristancked. Now he gave Nel a meaningful look. "I don''t think this story is something the public will be very interested in without some embellishment," he said. "It won''t? I thought it was¡ªoh, riiight¡­" While realization showed on Nel''s face, Derek looked at the two artists in puzzlement. He didn''t pry. "If this doesn''t sound appealing, Mr. Gemello, I was actually given another good offer for a promo. I was contacted by Jane Greenpawl''s manager yesterday¡ª" "Jane?!" Chapter 77 : Janes offer Some time earlier. The Greenpawl family almost always had breakfasts together. It was family bonding time, especially since Michael Greenpawl, the head of the family, often was too busy with business matters and meetings to have lunch at home. His wife, Eleanor Greenpawl, had retired from her model career, but still had an active social life and often spent evenings at various events. With Jane''s singing career steadily on the rise ever since her teen years, breakfast was the only time when Jane could see both her parents at once with a guarantee. Today''s breakfast had a very tense atmosphere. Instead of quiet talking, there was only silence and Jane''s dark res. This has been happening since yesterday, when Jane returned from the Californian Young Star contest in tears and hid in her room until now. "Daughter, are you feeling well this morning?" Eleanor asked first. "Maybe you should go back to sleep." Jane grit her teeth. "I''m fine, mom." Unlike Eleanor, Michael didn''t beat around the bush and expressed his concerns directly. "Jane, don''t beat yourself up because of some state-wide contest. You got approval from the audience, and it''s the most important. It proves that you can have bigger sess in the future as a pop-star." At this, Jane snapped. "Don''t you say this, father!" she mmed her palm on the table hard enough that some coffee spilled out of her cup. "Don''t you dare to say this! I know what you did!" Eleanor gasped. "Jane!" Michael frowned. "What are you talking abo¡ª" Jane stood to her feet and pointed a finger at Michael. "You sent actual gangsters to attack other contestants! The business you are a CEO of¡ªis it even legal? Or were you actually secretly a gangster yourself all that time? Does mom know?!" Both Jane''s parents froze in their spots. It was Eleanor who reacted first. "Jane, don''t shout at your own father!" "Quiet, Eleanor. I can speak for myself," Michael said. He looked calmly at his daughter. "I don''t understand why you are so unhappy. Of course, we wouldn''t tell you about the illegal business¡ªthat would only endanger you. And of course, we will do anything in our power to help you out. What parent wouldn''t?" Jane was taken aback. "But¡ªBut father! All that time I thought I got somewhere because of my hard work and talent¡ªdid you help me there, too? Did you?" "Of course," Eleanor said. "But you wouldn''t have gotten as far as you did if you were just talentless andzy! You don''t understand how hard it is to get anywhere in show business, Jane. Even if you are extremely talented and hardworking, you can easily be left on the curb without extra help." "So you did it! You did! I can''t believe it!" "How did you find out, Jane?" Michael asked. "Did Carlos tell you? Or someone else?" Jane opened her mouth to reply that it was Tristan Gemello, but then paused. She wasn''t so stupid. "I can''t tell. If I do, you will probably get him killed! And what if you implicated me and my reputation, father? What then?!" In her heart of hearts, Jane still wanted Tristan to love her. Because he was so handsome and charming, she already convinced herself that him telling her about her family''s secret dealings was a good thing to her. As for his rejection of her¡ªwell, he probably was simply angry because he was osted by Greenpawl''s thugs! "I''m going to fire Carlos," Michael muttered. "If this was found by anyone, then he did a terrible job¡­" "Even if this was found out, we''de up with something," Eleanor said convincingly. "Public can forget about people''s crimes incredibly easily with the right misdirection." Jane''s hands dropped at her sides. These revtions¡ªshe just couldn''t take them. All the while, her parents acted like they did nothing wrong. And did they? Or didn''t? "You know what? I''m not hungry anymore." "Jane!" But she already stormed out of the dining hall to hide in her room again and brood. It wasn''t long before Jane realized she was actually still hungry and order some food to be brought to her room. By noon, she began moving past the revtions with her family, although she didn''t feel like actually forgiving them yet. Instead, she wanted another person to forgive her. ''What can I do to apologize before Tristan?'' Jane thought. ''A gift? No¡­ gifts are for men to give. But I''m sure that if we spent more time together, he''d realize that he was wrong about telling these things about me!'' Over the next few days, she was still thinking about this, while gradually returning to her ongoing musical career. Unlike many actual young artists from the contest, Jane has been slowly but steadily growing in fame since she debuted at 16. By now, she had 200 thousand online followers! Although now Jane wondered how many of them were fake. Only her parents could tell, and Jane had been avoiding them since that conversation. Either way, it was a much higher number than that of Tristan. His followers measured in only dozens of thousands, even with a boost in poprity from the contest. Jane had already reposted his posts on her own page, hoping he would at least react to it somehow¡­ but he didn''t. Now she went to her manager and asked him to do something for her. So what if this will probably be unprofitable? She didn''t care! The manager had no choice here, either. *** Present day. "Jane?!" "Jane?" echoed Nel. "Is this the girl who won the Audience Choice Award? Do you know her well?" Tristan pursed his lips and shook his head negatively. "What does she want?" "She invites you to feature in her next music video. It seems like a very altruistic offer from her, and it will certainly boost your poprity. Especially if you can perform in Jane''s favorite genre." Tristan scowled. That woman! Did she have no dignity, either? Instead of slithering away and hiding in shame, she was actually trying to butter up to him! "Hah, it looks like you have really charmed her, Tris! Are you going to take Jane on that offer?" Chapter 78: Upgrade upgrade upgrade Tristan looked at Nel, then at Derek. "No. Back to the n of co-promotion¡ªI and Nel should talk about the story we are ready to share with the audience. But the documentary is a good idea, and I want it done quickly so I could focus on thepetition." Whatever twisted feelings were the reason for Jane''s invitation, Tristan just hoped she got even hurt by his refusal and tant dismissal. For someone who loved attention as much as Jane did, it would surely sting. Nel blinked. "Wow, you really don''t like her. Did you have a beef with her in the past?" Tristan shrugged. "I just don''t like her type." Derek mentally noted that down. "I will tell Ms. Greenpawl''s manager about your refusal, Mr. Gemello. And while I know you need more time to prepare the backstory, we can talk more about the covers you want to make. It will speed things up if I can arrange the shooting and recording set and crew now." "Right!" Nel sat up. "So, I thought since the song is called ''Dragonfly'', I should y it outdoors! You can make good audio quality outdoors, right?" "Well, it would be easier to just record sound and video separately, Mr. Mayar¡­" *** After discussing the song n for a couple of hours straight, Tristan felt great about it. Derek proved himself to be very knowledgeable and professional, too. He feared before that he''d need to push Garstean with ckmail threats more often, but so far Derek was already very willing to do whatever Tristan wanted. Garstean definitely instructed him to be as helpful as possible. Now they were walking toward Tristan''s parked car so Tristan could drive them both to their homes, but the conversation wasn''t over yet. "So what are we going to tell in our ''friendship story'', Tris?" Nel asked. "Ah, damn, I hate lying to the public, but I''d hate being in prison more¡­" Tristan opened the car door and sat in. Nel followed. "We did nothing strictly illegal, but stuff like that certainly could damage our rep." Nel snickered as they both put seatbelts on. That was a hard rule in a car with Tristan. "And as I remember, you were a bit of an asshole when we first met. Actually, you are still a bit of an asshole. Well. In a good way?" He looked sheepish. Tristan justughed and started the car. "Don''t you know? You can''t get far in showbiz without being a bad bitch. Or a bad asshole, since I''m a guy. Bad ass?" "You sure are a badass. I''m lucky to have met you." "Even if you would''ve won the first round of the contest without me? You got second ce." "Yeah, nah! If you weren''t there, I''d be beaten up or shot by these thugs you had scared off." Tristan chuckled again and pressed the gas pedal. He drove off the parking lot, talking all the while. "Anyway, it''s alright if I appear bitchy at first. It will actually seem like a more authentic story this way. And I have an image to maintain, you know?" "I thought you would pretend to feel bad about it to gain sympathy¡­" Tristanughed. "No way. A badass can''t be apologetic, don''t you know?" Nel nodded. "Alright, and then what?" Tristan shrugged, throwing Nel a nce. "Let''s say we bumped into each other againter, and I was impressed by your conviction to be an altruistic goody-two-shoes." Nel hummed. "This would make a good picture. A bad boy and a good boy. An angel and a demon? Oh, we should do a photoshoot like that sometime!" "We should tell that to Derek. It will work with the documentary''s visuals, too." They talked more about the details on the way to Nel''s home, where the artist waved Tristan goodbye and ran off. *** Back at home, Tristan opened his status panel. Now that he had a n for what he wanted to do for his musical career, he knew what to put his Pop-star Points into. A lot of Pop-star Points. First of all, he opened the system shop, as every day. [======] [===Shop===] [''Hypnotic Voice'' talent: 3000 Pop-star Points] [ying flute skill: 10 Pop-star Points] [Level IV hard body armor: 3000 Criminal Points] [======] The selection today was scarce. Tristan felt like he was slowly buying out skills avable within the system. He bought the flute skill immediately, then checked the talent''s description. [Hypnotic Voice: you can make your voice mesmerize people who hear it, making them more receptive to your words. This effect doesn''t carry over records.] This was very vague, but it reminded Tristan of the trick Jane used to charm her audience. Of course, he bought the talent. He immediately felt new intuitive knowledge. Despite its description, like ''Bullet Time'', this talent will activate by itself when Tristan made his voice sound a certain way. With his voice control skill, it was easy for him to add the right timbre to his normal speech. Doing the same with songs was harder, but Tristan knew this was easily solvable. He still had a ton of points to spend on skills! "I wish I had something to test this on right now," Tristan said in the hypnotic timbre. It didn''t sound very different from his normal speech, and he didn''t feel any effects on himself. Tristan shook his head and began generously spreading the remaining points across his skills and attributes. [Ding!] [Singing skill increased from 657 to 1357.] [Ding!] [Dancing skill increased from 628 to 1078.] [Ding!] [ying guitar skill increased from 794 to 1494.] [Ding!] [Music theory skill increased from 279 to 679.] [Ding!] [Acting skill increased from 413 to 813.] [Ding!] [Songwriting skill increased from 532 to 1232.] [Ding!] [Voice control skill increased from 408 to 808.] [Ding!] [Stage presence skill increased from 159 to 759.] [Ding!] [Appearance attribute increased from 80 to 150.] [Ding!] [As a result of attribute changes, your charisma attribute increased by 20.] [Ding!] [Charisma attribute increased from 167 to 237.] When he was done, he was left with zero points. Zero points of any kind! At this point, his skills barely advanced naturally, and Tristan was sure it was because his skills were so high already. But he intended to get his 10x reward as soon as he released the video with Nel. ''Now, system, what does my status look like?'' Chapter 79: Preparing to rush the production System opened the status window immediately. [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Contracted Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Made Man.] [Pop-star Points: 0] [Criminal Points: 0] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 150] [Charisma: 237] [Fearsomeness: 135] [Strength: 223] [Dexterity: 228] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 1357] [Dancing: 1078] [ying guitar: 1494] [Music theory: 679] [Music production: 521] [Acting: 813] [Songwriting: 1232] [Voice control: 808] [Stage presence: 759] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [ying flute: 1] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1224] [Observation: 923] [Driving: 618] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 816] [Athletics: 419] [Treating injuries: 201] [Lockpicking: 1] [Combat analysis: 505] [Hacking: 1406] [Governing: 5] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [Bullet Time] [Hypnotic Voice] [======] Seeing four-digit numbers put a wide grin on Tristan''s face, especially when he could feel in himself the skills attached to them. However, a much more drastic change lied in his appearance. To see it, he went to check himself out in the bathroom mirror. Tristan''s bathroom was small and cluttered with all the skin- and hair-care products he kept there. ''Now that I have more money from my work, I should move out of this apartment. But do I want to keep staying in this city? I will have to travel to Los Angeles for the contest finale, anyway. All the best opportunities are in Los Angeles, too.'' Tristan put that thought aside and looked at his reflection. From there, a stunningly handsome ck-haired young man was looking at him. Tristan''s features didn''t change with his increase in appearance attribute. His bone structure was already very appealing to an eye, with a sharp jaw and a straight nose. But now Tristan looked like someone fixed his face in an image-editing program, removing slight imperfections of the skin and structure. That change spread to his hair, too. It looked silkier and smoother than before, and even the casual shape in which Tristan brushed it this morning looked more stylish than ever. This was a look that Tristan needed a ton of makeup and styling to do before that transformation. Now those were his natural looks. With styling, Tristan will easilypete with many online models that edited their photos to absolute perfection. After smiling at his own reflection, posing in front of a mirror for a few more minutes, and snapping some photos on his phone, Tristan went toward his musical setup. He had to make a cover of Nel''s song, and Tristan was already itching to put his increased skills to good use. Nel didn''t send Tristan the chords of his song yet, but Tristan didn''t need them. Instead, he listened to a rey of Nel''s song posted on his social page. With Tristan''s current songwriting and music theory skills, disassembling the melody into chords took only a few reys. After that, Tristan picked his guitar and repeated the entire song from start to finish, together with vocals. At first try, he stumbled a bit, simply forgetting what was in the next part; but at the second try, Tristan got it perfectly, at least in a technical sense. The song by itselfcked the spark of wild inspiration that Nel put into it. This included the shy and sparky costume Nel wore when performing it. Tristan hummed the melody to himself while absentmindedly strumming the strings of his guitar. ''Because I was saving money for a car, I still have to use a pretty cheap guitar¡­ I should get a better one before I make a cover. I don''t think I will need to pay for it if I can convince the Golden Talent Group agency to just give me one, heh.'' The sound of this guitar was really cheap to Tristan''s trained ear. In a casual setting, like now, it didn''t matter much, but on a stage, it will show. Tristan''s thoughts returned to the cover. He wanted to put his own spin on Nel''s song. To make it fit him instead of Nel. It took a while of thinking and experimenting, but eventually, Tristan set on an idea. As soon as that happened, the inspiration forced him to work almost feverishly until evening, until Tristan had to change identity and deal with routine matters in the King Lion Gang. *** Next day. "Both of you really work fast," Derek Writfield said, looking at both artists in front of him in shock. Although only a day had passed, both Tristan and Nel presented to him their ideas and drafts for song covers, what they wanted for their music videos, and the backstory they wanted to put into the promotion. Nel clearly worked through the night and now had bags under his eyes, but was still cheerier than ever. On the contrary, Tristan almost shone with health, as if he had a spa day yesterday, but his mood was just as high. "Will you be able to keep up, Mr. Writfield?" Tristan asked. "I know the preparation and the editing might take a long time, but I want to finish shooting itself quickly." Derek fixed his suit. Today, instead of ring red, it was dark blue¡ªbut with an incredibly daring pattern ofrge white polka dots. So far, Tristan wasn''t sure if his manager''s fashion sense was killing it, or killing him. "It''s not only up to me, but I will do my best that the crew prepares everything necessary for shooting as soon as possible, starting with the detailed scenario. Either way¡­" Derek looked over the notes given to him again. "This looks very promising already. I''m honestly eager to help you two bring this material to life." Nel smiled almost shyly at the manager. "You think it will go viral?" "It might." "It will," Tristan said with assurance. He walked up to Nel and put a hand on his shoulder. "I will make sure of it even if I will need to stand over your shoulder and poke at your every mistake on set. If you are going to make a cover of my song, I will make sure it''s not just great, it''s AMAZING!" Nel chuckled nervously. "Why do I feel like I''m in danger?" Chapter 80: Jane is not done causing problems Over the next several days, Nel found out why. Tristan worked incredibly hard over their project, as if he had endless stamina, and pushed others to do the same. And when he didn''t push, he inspired hard work by his mere presence. It was productive, exhrating, and exhausting, but together, theyposed the covers they were going to make in record time. Although they weren''t just covers anymore, they were rearrangements. Nel''s cover on Tristan''s ''Dragonfly'' was an even wilder rearrangement of an already metal song. When Nel showed Tristan a rough version of it, Tristan''s first reaction was incredulity. "You want to turn this into dubstep, Nel? Seriously? That''s¡­" Tristan paused. "That''s amazing, actually. Definitely not something I''de up for a stage performance!" Dubstep music was a genre of electronic music. It had powerful bass lines and beats with sounds that couldn''t be performed without a DJ station. And to add more contrast to this all, Nel nned to record his music video in nature, a ce that was the most removed from electronic music. Nelughed. "Your cover of my ''Jester Jester'' is much better! I swear¡ªwhenever you y a guitar, it''s like God himself descended to us to show how to do it right. And threaten people who do it wrong with eternal punishment¡­" Tristan huffed. "I don''t do that." "You don''t even have to threaten, the idea is scary enough already." For his version of Nel''s song, Tristan slowed the melody, turning it from a fast and energetic one to a song that was almost lyrical. The mood of it changedpletely. Now the ''Jester'' in the song became very Gothic, just like the costume Tristan nned to wear in the music video. He put a lot of his time and effort into making the video as quickly as possible. If he was doing this alone, Tristan could have finished in a few weeks, but an entire crew of people from the agency handled shootings and such. And they worked with other stars from the agency at the same time, too. Even though Tristan was given priority, there was a limit to how quick or slow things could be. He just wanted to release this project before December. But while Tristan waited for other people involved to do their part of his work, he also began preparing his performance for the Californian Young Star contest. Nel''s electronic arrangement of Tristan''s song actually gave him an idea. A song that will show off Tristan''s skill with the guitar to awe everyone. Saying that dubstep couldn''t be performed without a DJ station, after all, was a lie. It was technically possible to perform on a few other exotic and very specialized instruments. Or, if you were a real pro, it could be yed on an electric guitar. With a performance like that, and Tristan''s hypnotic voice, there was no way for anyone topete with him in song quality alone. Although hypnotic voice didn''t carry over records, it would still awe a living audience. In short, Tristan was sure that music-wise, this contest will be a smooth sailing. Arranging things with the gang business was harder, but Tristan was getting there, too. Of course, something had to throw a wrench into Tristan''s work schedule. *** Greenpawl''s residence. Jane stared at the screen of her phone, aghast. When the next day after her manager passed the offer of cooperation, she was told that Tristan refused it without exining the reasons, Jane was disappointed. However, she quickly assured herself that Tristan was simply too busy preparing for the December performance to work together with her at the time. Jane realized she was too na?ve again. She had many friends in the showbiz industry. It was important to have connections, after all. And many of these friends knew about Jane''s opinion about Gemello¡ªwhich she wasn''t even hiding, anyway. Now one of them sent her terrible, terrible news. It was the true reason why Tristan rejected Jane''s generous offer. [!!!! Jane :((((] [Gemello is making a promo with that shiny guy who took second ce at the contest. It''s 100% true!!!! Look] Next was a screenshot of a conversation between Jane''s friend and one of the assistants inside of the GTG agency''s production team. Although the assistant didn''t speak about the project between Nelson Mayar and Tristan Gemello directly, he alluded to it so clearly that there could be no doubts. Seeing this, Jane wanted to spit someone in the face! Tristan rejected her again, and this was all because¡­ because of¡­ ''It''s because of this buffoon, Nelson!'' Jane thought. ''I don''t know what lies and tricks he used to convince Tristan that he''s a better choice for a project together, but I will expose him to the world!'' *** Tristan and Nel were at the final stages of the shooting for the music video, shooting a bit about their meeting in the music hall. Since dramatically reenacting scenes without all the staff members and other actors was pointless, Tristan and Nel just walked around the empty hallways of the building and talked about things. Nel wasn''t a trained actor, but he was expressing his emotions very genuinely and it looked good on camera, anyway. As for Tristan, every shot with him exuded so much charisma that all women and some men in the production crew sighed wistfully every five minutes of work. Despite the sighing, everybody worked hard, and Tristan hoped to finish the shooting itself on that day. It was around noon when Nel took a break from standing under cameras, while Tristan continued shooting, and soon after, when he froze in shock. Read new adventures at m_v-l''e-NovelBin Although he was looking at the camera at the moment, Tristan still noticed this with a corner of his eye. Gesturing for the camera operator to wait, Tristan stormed toward Nel to see what made him look so pale, it was visible through his makeup. Nel was staring at a social media post, which linked an article on some yellow pages news outlet. [Nelson Mayar¡ªa promising star with a shocking secret? Interview with his parents!] Chapter 81: Nels backstory Before Tristan could read the article itself, Nelson noticed Tristan hovering over him (ONLY because Tristan wasn''t trying to hide). With a gasp, he pressed the smartphone''s screen to his chest, hiding it. Tristan frowned. "Nel? You look like a deer in headlights who just saw a ghost of his future self." The other man bit his lip. Tristan didn''t need to have 923 points in observation skill to know that Nelson was extremely nervous. "I¡­ That''s¡­ Shit!" Nel groaned in his palms, squishing his phone to his face with the movement. "It''s not true. They told a bunch of nder about it! I¡­ I thought I wasn''t famous enough that anyone bothered to nder me, ha-ha-ha¡­ And what will Mr. Writfield say?" Tristan scowled, putting two and two together. A man''s parents, telling nder about their child instead of supporting them? Worth a punch to the face. Tristan stepped away from silentlymenting Nel and pulled out his own phone. Finding the article was a matter of a quick online search. [Nelson Mayar¡ªa promising star with a shocking secret? Interview with his parents!] The article was posted anonymously¡ªwhich already was telling. The interviewer visited a small town and talked with a pair of people who imed to be Nel''s parents. Their names were removed from text, and their photos were blurred on photos, but there was a shot of their house. From Nel''s reaction, Tristan supposed it meant these people were, in fact, his parents¡ªand not some impostors. The pair told a story about rising Nel with love and care. Maybe too much, from the father''s words¡ªbecause in his early teen years, Nel began to gravitate toward things that were too "feminine". They exined to him it was wrong, but Nelson still did it. He kept listening to artists who wore mboyant clothing, even if they were men. He hid posters with them under his bed! And many of these musicians were Asian and so pretty, they looked like girls. And so on and so forth. Nel''s interests were about pop and rock music, alongside some k-pop and j-pop. Completely expected¡ªNel''s music took a lot of inspiration from Asia. However, Nel''s parents concluded that this could mean only one thing¡ªtheir son was gay and hiding it. There was more in the interview, more so-called "proofs", which the interviewer eagerlypped up, adding his own spections about the public reaction to this. Tristan huffed and closed the article. "Pure trash," he said. "But whoever came up with this idea should pick his favorite kneecap, because he will lose the other one." Nel sat up straighter and nced at Tristan. "You don''t believe them?" Tristan looked at him incredulously. "What? That you are gay? Don''t make meugh. Same people could say that I''m gay because just because I''m not dating anyone. Or they can say this about you. Anyway, do you have any enemies you know?" "E-enemies? Wait, wait, wait!" Nel shot to his feet. He looked much less anxious now. "You were joking about the kneecaps, right?" Tristan chuckled. "Of course. But this was clearly a targeted attack. You are right, you aren''t famous enough for being ndered like that! Nobody will even care." Nel still looked worried. "They might careter, when our co-promotiones out. Even if this is just nder, even if I deny it, some people will believe it! Maybe¡­ maybe this co-promotion wasn''t such a great idea." Tristan said nothing, but his look spoke volumes. People who gave up from a single minor setback¡ªlike this article¡ªdidn''t deserve more than being walked over in his book. Amplified by the force of Tristan''s charisma, his gaze became like a whip that straightened Nel''s back. The young man ran a palm through his blond hair. "Right, right! We are doing this, and fuck everybody else! My mom and pops didn''t want me to go to the CYS contest, but I still went! And now I''m in the agency, and I''m going to be famous and they can go and stew in their grumbling about it!" Tristanughed. "Yeah, fuck them! That''s the spirit. But they weren''t the ones toe up with the interview, weren''t they?" Nel thought about it for a moment. "I don''t know. I''d like to think they wouldn''t have done this, but it''s not like this is impossible¡­" Tristan hummed, exploring all the possibilities in his head, but he was distracted by the shooting producer approaching him and Nel. "Mr. Gemello, Mr. Mayar, the break was over five minutes ago! You wanted to finish everything quickly, then don''t make us move from the schedule!" "We can talk more about itter. Mr. Writfield will have to know, too," Tristan told Nel. He then turned to the producer and smiled apologetically. His voice changed almost imperceptibly with a timbre of hypnotism. "Sorry, something important came up suddenly¡­ You are right, we all shouldn''t get distracted. Let''s get going!" Under the double onught of Tristan''s charm and a tinge of hypnotism, the producer melted like butter. All ire he felt was gone, and instead, he could only smile back at Tristan. Nel also smiled at Tristan in a daze, although he was only caught in a periphery of the hypnosis. Not that there wasn''t much of it. Inwardly, Tristan chuckled at the effect. He was experimenting with it bit by bit in thest few days, and it was as incredibly useful as every other talent he had. People opened in front of him like books, where Tristan could write whatever he wanted. The easiest way to put it was to say that as long as Tristan spoke directly to someone, his charm increased tenfold. *** After the filming was done for the day, Tristan spoke with Nel again. "Can you just ask your parents about who came up with this?" "What''s the point? It''s best just to ignore it, probably. People will forget. Or I can release a statement denying everything¡­" Tristan scowled. "These people went against you personally, Nel. They MUST be found! You understand?" Chapter 82: Using criminal connections for a showbiz investigation "These people went against you personally, Nel. They MUST be found! You understand?" Tristan wasn''t joking about kneecaps. Not entirely, at least. Someone did a despicable thing to Tristan''s friend, and they had to be held responsible. Properly. They had to learn their lesson. However, Nel stood his ground. "I won''t look for them, and neither should you, Tristan. Hey, you said it yourself¡ªthis article is total trash! If this is the worst they coulde up with, I don''t have to care about them! You don''t expect me to chase after every hater online, do you?" "This isn''t just any hater. Either people responsible found your family, or they ARE your family. The worst they can do is much worse than an article." Nel just shook his head, dismissing Tristan''s argument. "No way! Who do you think I am? They aren''t going to chase after me in person, and I''m not going to chase after them with awsuit! Anyway, I''m going to talk to Mr. Writfield about this, he''ll offer something more¡­ appropriate." He pulled out his phone in a deliberate move to look away from Tristan. Tristan''s already prominent frown deepened. He could probably convince Nel if he really put himself into it. He could hypnotize him, even, and Nel will be none the wiser. But Tristan felt like he had to draw at least SOME line about what he was willing and unwilling to do. Manipting his friend was not something he felt like doing. No, it was the opposite. The very thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Being manipted by someone you trusted¡­ Tristan didn''t want to be like his brother. It''s not like Tristan had many friends. So far, Nel was the only person who admired Tristan so genuinely, while still being on the same level with him. ''But this situation can still easily be much more serious than Nel thinks. Even ordinary people can have psycho stalkers that start with innocent love notes and end stabbing them with a knife. At the very least, I have to make sure this isn''t one of those cases.'' And perhaps after finding out all the details, Nel will change his mind about retaliation by himself. *** Since Nel didn''t want to cooperate on this, Tristan was left to find all the information himself. Thankfully for him, but not for Nel, this was incredibly easy. Nel was performing with his real name, and he had told Tristan the name of the town he was from before. All Tristan had to do was to open the phone telephone directory, and there they were. Ang and Frederic Mayar. That evening, Tristan wrote down the address from the directory and went to his second job as a criminal mid-boss. In parallel with making a project together with Nel, Tristan had been settling more and more in his new position. Cuatro Angulos had fully withdrawn from their former territory, and King Lion Gang had descended there, scaring away smaller predators. Tristan wasn''t directly involved with thetter, but he did a lot of work organizing things. In recent days, thanks to all the filming and recording, his Pop-star skills and charisma had improved by another bit. Besides that, he had left an impression on all people in the production crew, also earning his points, and all of them went into Tristan''s governing skill. With the help of that, Tristan controlled the distribution of drugs from King Lion Gang''s stash to street dealers. To help both the takeover of Cuatro Angulos'' territory, and selling the drugs quicker, Tristan put some of his subordinates to find the dealers who worked with Cuatro Angulos before, and sell the drugs to them. And King Lion Gang had its own familiar dealers as well. The cash was flowing nicely, and Leon von was kept happy. Besides that, King Lion Gang''s people were gradually uncovering stashes and important documents left by escaping Cuatro Angulos'' people, finding more valuables. Usually, Tristan would be fully focused on sorting through them and finding the best use for them, but today he had a personal task. He couldn''t visit Nel''s parents himself¡ªthey lived several hours of driving away from the city and it''d be too suspicious. So instead, Tristan picked one of his subordinates for this job. This man, Kevin, was the one Pierce and then Tristan often used for more subtle tasks. Unlike many other gangsters, Kevin didn''t actually look like a thug, or even a fancy thug. He just looked like a finance student he had been before he decided that breaking and entering was less stressful, but just as profitable, than a 9-5 job. Inside the office that belonged to Pierce earlier, Tristan now was sitting at the dead man''s table. He didn''t have time to change a lot about this ce, but the first thing he did since moving there was to put a couple of tasteful rock album covers on the walls. The ce was too sterile and creepy without them. Even tasteless lion decorations were better. Tristan gave Kevin, who was sitting in the guest seat, a printout of all the information. "Go to this address, and talk to the couple who lives there, Kevin. I want to find out everything about the recent interview they did, and I want a recording of it. Why, to whom, how much of it was truth. But no violence! It would be best if they think that the inquiry was entirely innocent. Perhaps you can pretend to be Nelson Mayar''s curious fan, or his manager. Threaten them with awsuit for nder¡­ Well, I trust you cane up with something." Kevin nodded. "I will, Mr. Hayes. But¡­ may I ask, why¡­" He made a vague gesture in the air. "How does this even rte to our organization?" In response, Tristan stared Kevin dead in the eyes. His voice resonated in the very bones of the other man. "Didn''t you hear about the cat? Just do it and take your payment." In the thrall of that voice and these eyes, even people with stronger willpower could''ve only bowed. "Of course, Mr. Hayes. I apologize." Tristan smiled as Kevin left his office, but the smile was fleeting. For now, he could only wait for the results of Kevin''s investigation, and who knew what it would unearth. Chapter 83: Tristan completes the investigation, but how does Nel react? Kevin worked fast. The next evening, Tristan already exchanged the information he wanted for cash. "When I told them I was a fan of Nelson''s, these two almost closed the door in front of me," Kevin recollected with a small scowl. "And when that didn''t work, they did all they could to convince me to stop being Nelson''s fan. Luckily for me, that made it easy to get the information you needed from them." "And?" "This interview wasn''t their idea¡ªthe journalist who took the interview approached them first. He called himself Logan Brooks, but it might be a pseudonym. That''s all they know." Tristan nodded thoughtfully. So, as he feared, there was someone else behind this. Someone at BuzzBeat, the gossip news website that published the ndering article, had to know more about this. ''I could pay a personal visit to their office¡ªif there''s even anyone here. Not to mention, it''s in another city. No, I should use a more delicate touch instead.'' *** The BuzzBeat newspaper had an online page, as everything in modern days. Its journalists also had their own pages, linked to the main one. Although Logan Brooks was definitely not his real name, Tristan easily found the journalist''s online profile. The journalist even offered people to submit juicy gossip to a specified e-mail address. ''This is so easy.'' In half an hour, Tristan wrote and sent a message from a disposable email. *** Another dayter, it was actually fished out from the deep well of other messages and opened by Brooks. [Topic: I walked past Golden Talent Group offices and saw THIS! They didn''t notice me filming.] The body of the email was empty, but there was a single video fail attached. Perhaps it was a prank¡ªGod would know it wasn''t the first in Brooks'' career¡ªbut perhaps it was a jewel that will win him a Pulitzer award. It was his job to check. He opened the video¡­ and immediately closed it, cringing and rubbing his forehead. It was gay porn, cut right to the nastiest parts. Now Brooks wanted a shower for his eyes. *** In another city, Tristan chuckled when he read that his Beholder virus sessfully infected aputer. He could''ve chosen any other harmless video or photo to send Brooks, but he felt like some harmless¡ªfor now¡ªrevenge was in order. Even if it was really immature. ''Even I can''t be cool 24 hours a day. I will leave myself a minute to be uncool and just rx!'' Another dayter, Tristan had most of Brooks'' passwords. With the modern methods of protection like two-step authentication, it was bothersome to actually use them, but Tristan''s hacking skill gave him hints about how to avoid that. With some work, Tristan was free to read Brooks'' work emails. There was so much celebrity gossip¡­ Some of it could''ve worked as ckmail, some of it was just trash, trash, trash. But after actual hours of scrolling carefully through the message history to not miss anything, Tristan found what he wanted. The messages were from a personal chat with Brooks'' editor¡ªa clear like day proof of guilt. The editor actually gave Brooks a task to investigate Nel''s past, which he did until he found his parents. In the process, they gossiped about the person who gave that task. [Greenpawl? Why is she even interested in some small fly? Not that SHE is a huge fly. Unless you were talking about Mrs. Greenpawl earlier. I bet I can make an article out of it.] [You don''t want to cross the Greenpawls. Anyway, they were together at the contest recently. Don''t you remember?] Greenpawl! The name made Tristan seethe. "She again!" he hissed, alone in the silence of his office in the Good Lion Bar. "She just doesn''t learn, doesn''t she? Then I will have to leave her with no opportunities to cross me anymore." He tapped his fingers on the table. Murder was the most assured option. Dead women told no tales and didn''t ask journalists to nder anyone. However, even Tristan felt like this would be a disproportionate punishment to the crime. The thing that suffered the most was Nel''s nerves, and even they recovered in no time when the ndering article got no traction. It got no traction because Nel wasn''t popr enough, but that wasn''t the point. ''I''m going to remind her which of us has actual ckmail material on the other.'' *** Next day. "I can arrange a meeting between the two of you, Mr. Gemello, but may I ask why? If these are personal matters, you don''t have to say, but at least I should know what to put into the message." "Just say that I want to talk with her. Personally." Tristan put a smile on his face and forced it to stay charming instead of showing his true anger. "If she is curious, tell her that I had regrets since ourst meeting." Derek looked at Tristan with palpable concern. "Mr. Gemello, there won''t be any gossip articles about you after this, right?.." he chuckled weakly. "Well, I suppose it''s inescapable. Just be careful, please. Your preparations for both the contest in Los Angeles and the music video release go so well, it''d be terrible if something happened." Tristan nodded. "Don''t worry. I just hope she replies soon." But that would take some time. Meanwhile, Tristan had something to tell Nel. *** The next time they gathered to eat out together after music practice, Tristan told Nel about what he found. "What? Jane?!" Nel shook his head. "Tris, we didn''t even talk to each other! What does she have against me? Where did you find that info from? Why were you searching for it, I told you not to!" "Calm down, Nel. I''m 100% sure about this information. As for how I found it¡­ I hired a hacker." Nel dropped his head into his palms and groaned. "You are so stubborn. And so¡­ You know thatw exists? Even ifw enforcement is¡­" Read new chapters at m_v-l''e-NovelBin "Yeah, thew enforcement indeed is. And Jane Greenpawl tried to nder you. And might try again. Are you going to do something about it?" Chapter 84: Winning a blackmail war "Are you going to do something about it?" Nel didn''t reply immediately. It took him a few long moments to finally nod. "I want to talk with her, at least¡ªI want to find out what her problem is!" Tristan beamed. "That''s right, we are going to have a really, really nice talk with her. I already invited her, and I feel like she won''t refuse a meeting." Nel huffed. "You were going to talk with her with or without me, then? Damn, Tris, you are¡­" He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration. "It''s all gotta go your way or no way!" "Yes. Were youining?" "¡­I don''t know. Give me a week to process this. Hell, I knew showbiz can be stressful, but I didn''t expect drama like that." Tristanughed. "Come on. There''s a new controversy every day. You gotta either grow a thicker skin, or a superiorityplex to be in here." Nel grinned. "And you, an overachiever, have both." *** Like Tristan predicted, Jane replied quickly, eagerly agreeing to a meeting. She invited him to an expensive restaurant, agreed to be alone, and probably imagined that it was a date. The restaurant was a very fancy one. Tristan had been in ces like these as a child and then a teenager, and it felt a bit nostalgic to return. Unlike him, Nel actively fidgeted with a hem of his suit, and was poorly hiding unease at the sight of men and women in expensive clothing, or an actual maitre d. Both Tristan and Nel wore suits for the asion, so despite Nel''s nervousness, they didn''t stand out from the crowd with anything except being young and particrly handsome, especially Tristan. "We were invited by Ms. Greenpawl," Tristan said to the maitre d. "Yes, of course. I will bring you to her table." Jane chose a table for two in a corner, where waist-high walls were giving some extra privacy. She wore a flowing pink dress today, and her long blond hair was styled in a way that looked casual, but actually deliberately entuated her chest and framed her face. At the sight of Tristan, her blue eyes lit up¡ªonly to widen in shock when she saw Nelson walking next to him. Ignoring Jane''s reaction, Tristan casually sat down opposite of her. In a moment, the maitre d brought an extra chair to the table, and Nel sat down too. "Hello, Jane. It looks like you are doing well despite everything. Too well, it seems," Tristan said. To give her credit, Jane was a superb actress¡ªshe was smiling charmingly again, with barely a hint of her true tension beneath. "Mr. Gemello! I thought you wanted to talk with me in private! Why did you bring your¡­ friend here?" The way Jane said this, and the nce she threw at Nelson, said that she clearly meant pdog" instead of "friend". Unlike Jane, Nelson didn''t hide his anger. "Oh, like you would''ve talked with me otherwise, Ms. High-and-Mighty! Like, you know, normal people do instead of just trying to spread lies about them!" Jane''s smile changed to a very convincing confusion, but her fair skin became a shade whiter. "What are you talking about? Mr. Gemello, what is he talking about?" A waiter approached their table to ask for orders, forcing the entire group to quieten. Jane asked for tea. Tristan blindly ordered whatever his finger pointed at at the menu, and Nel, after a momentary pause, repeated after him. When the waiter left, Tristan closed the menu with a loud snap. "Don''t pretend to be innocent, Jane. This time, it was all entirely your doing." Nel nodded. Before this, Tristan showed him the proof, eliminating all doubt¡ªnot that there was any. "We''ve seen the proof, Ms. Greenpawl. What do you have against me? Why did you do this?" Jane''s mask cracked as she openly red at him. "Well, what did Mr. Gemello find in you, hm? You are just some vige pumpkin who barely knows how to hold an instrument." She flipped her hair dramatically with a hand. "Someone like you shouldn''t stand next to Tristan! Really¡­ Mr. Gemello, why do you keep him?" "Huh? Wait, is this all because Tristan refused your co-promotion offer?" Nel pointed a finger at Jane, but she ignored him, instead turning to the stone-faced Tristan. "Really¡­ I can give you so much more than him! Mr. Gemello¡­ I know we might have had a misunderstanding in the past, but I was trying to apologize! My offer was only a benefit to you¡ªhow could you refuse it to stay around with this clown instead?" Tristan still didn''t move, and his face still stayed expressionless. The reason for this was¡­ He felt like if he moved even a muscle, he won''t be able to stop himself from pping this bitch hard enough to give her a concussion! And he didn''t want to create a scene here. He was a public person! At Tristan''s silence, Jane fell silent, too. Her eyes flickered between him and Nelson. She gasped. "Don''t tell me Mr. and Mrs. Mayar WERE right! Is this it? Do you just keep him around because you have an affair?" Jane cringed in disgust. "No!" Nelson snapped. "Enough of this. Ms. Greenpawl, I''m going to sue the hell out of you! Just wait for a court invitation from me¡ªjust you wait!" Jane snorted. "The only one sued will be you. You won''t win a court case against the Greenpawl family in a million years." "Ms. Greenpawl," Tristan finally spoke with a cruel grin. "Did you forget which of us has actual ckmail material? Stand on your knees and apologize profusely to Nelson, or the court case against your family will be not about nder, but about conspiracy tomit assault just to win a round of a contest." Nel gasped in shock. "This was you, too?!" Jane stared at the both of them, white as a sheet, with a look of utter helplessness in her eyes. Chapter 85: Kneel and apologize Jane stared at both men in front of her helplessly and fearfully. Since she gave no answer, Nel turned to Tristan with his question. "Did Jane send these thugs at the contest? Really?" Tristan sneered. "Technically, this was the work of her parents. But it might as well be her." He turned to Jane. "You tried to ''apologize'' before me for this, but you don''t even care about me. People like you care only about themselves." "That''s not true! I¡ª" "Shh. I''m not finished." Tristan''s voice gained a hypnotic timbre to it, and the force of it,bined with the piercing gaze of his stunning eyes, stole breath from Jane''s lungs and words from her tongue. Tristan leaned back in his seat. "I could bring the records I have of your servant''s conversations to the police. I can bring them to the press, too. You aren''t a big fish, but your parents are public figures with plenty of sharks swarming around." "If it gets found out that they have dealings with the criminal underworld, they will be torn apart. Your family''s reputation will be destroyed. The business of your father will be targeted by all kinds of inspections, and your father himself will be investigated." "And maybe another time he could''ve bribed his way out of this, but not when every news outlet talks about it. And I can make sure they talk. I can add my own story to this and make it very, very sad. No judge will risk sparing your family if they will fear being attacked by the crowd themselves." "Their life will end as you knew it, and your life will end, too. Not only will you be canceled online, people won''t want to offer you even a cashier job! Your family assets will be arrested by the government, and you will have to beg with your other rtives or live on the street. But what rtive will take a pathetic creature like you in? There''s really only the street." intoThese calm, detailed threats, together with Tristan''s hypnotizing voice, drilled deep in Jane''s psyche. She sagged in her seat like the soul left her body¡ªso devastated and despairing she was even beyond crying. It was much worse than the previous time Tristan delivered a mental blow to her. Then, she could cry and move on, but now she already felt like her life was destroyed¡ªlike the vision Tristan built had already happened! [Ding!] [You have utterly terrified and destroyed a person of moderate status. Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 100!] Tristan grinned evilly. This was the power of conviction and imagination¡ªoften, it was stronger than the actual thing. Because Tristan wasn''t so sure that he could actually bring to life most of the things he told Jane. He didn''t know the full extent of her family''s power. But now, as long as Tristan had the records, Jane was his willing puppet. "So, Jane. Unless you want this all to happen, you will do exactly as I say. First¡­" He paused as he noticed a waiter approaching their table with drinks and appetizers. The man looked at their table, especially at Jane''s pale face, with visible concern. "Is everything alright, miss?" he asked cautiously as he ced items from his tray on the table. Tristan gave Jane a meaningful look and she forced herself to smile. "Yes, we¡­ Just have a very emotional talk, this is all." "''Emotional'' is really downying it¡­" Nel muttered. "Don''t worry, and don''t hurry with bringing the main course yet," Tristan added with a charming smile and a dash of hypnotism. Besides the waiter, there was no one else to interrupt the trio. The nearest tables were empty of people, and the position of their table gave the trio some privacy from the rest. When the waiter left, Tristan smiled at Jane. "So, first, apologize to Nel on your knees. You gave him some very stressful minutes." Jane barely even hesitated before falling to her knees. It didn''t matter if her beautiful dress would get dusty. She crawled closer to Nel and reached for his hip. Tears burst from her eyes¡ªtears of relief that she can escape the nightmare Tristan built for her! "I''m so sorry, Mr. Mayar! Please, forgive me¡ªI made a terrible mistake!" "Wait-wait-wait, please, get off me!" Nel eximed, prying Jane''s hands away like they were slimy tentacles. "I forgive you, I forgive you, just sit up! S-seriously¡­" Jane nced at Tristan for confirmation before actually obeying. Tristan felt like she would actually suck them both off here and then if he asked her¡­ But Tristan shared Nelson''s aversion to even touching the woman, despite all her doll-like beauty. Inside that shell, she was uglier than a toad. "Next, Jane, forget about your pop-star career. Find something else to do in life. Or do nothing¡ªyou are a rich heiress, you won''t die of hunger without a job. But I don''t want to see your face ever again. Not in person, not anywhere. Just disappear from the eyes of the public and mine, you understand? Otherwise¡­" Jane bit her lip, but nodded timidly. "I un-understand. Please, Mr. Gemello, just don''t do this. If you need money¡ª" "No. I said all I wanted. Remember¡ªone blip, one mistake, and your life and that of your family will be destroyed. Now leave." The woman nodded quietly and fled the table without making a single sip of her tea, leaving behind a heavy silence. "Tristan¡­" Nelson finally said, sneaking him a worried nce. "You¡­ you were bluffing again, were you? Like that other time." He must''ve referred to threatening to shoot the thugs that attacked them. Tristan smirked. "Does it matter, Nel?" Nelson thought about it. "Not really. You are still scary as hell." He took in a deep breath, then released it. "But to attack me for a petty reason like that? Maybe people like her just understand nothing less than what you did." "Exactly. Now,e on. Let''s rx and enjoy some fine dining¡ªespecially since it all will go to Jane''s tab!" Chapter 86: Finishing the videos When Jane returned home that day, she hid her stress and fear behind a smile. The terror of showing the truth was too great. In her mind, it was a fact as solid as that the sky was blue, that Tristan could easily bring the vision he described into reality if he wanted to. She was allowed to live her life only as long as Tristan didn''t remember about her existence¡ªthat was clear to her. That evening, she told her mother, "I''m tired¡­ There''s been too many stressful thoughts in my head recently. I think I need a vacation. In Italy, maybe¡ªI always wanted to try authentic Neapolitan pizza." And not a weekter, Jane dropped all her existing obligations and went to Italy, not specifying when she would return. Far away from Tristan, the sun and the sea felt much friendlier out there than in California, and hot Italian men distracted Jane from the thoughts about Tristan¡­ But sometimes, as she ate dinner or sunbathed or walked past the famous fashion boutiques of Mn, Jane would remember Tristan''s words, and feel like she was still walking on a narrow rope bridge over a dark abyss. *** Two more weekster. The production team really put Tristan on top priority, managing to finish all rted projects just before the end of October. Tristan and Nel were invited to watch the test run of all the three videos: Tristan''s music video for ''Jester Jester'', Nel''s music video for ''Dragonfly'', and their short documentary. They sat in a small cinema hall in the GTG building, together with Derek (in a very formal ck suit, worn with a tie that had a pattern of cats ying rock music), most of the production team, and a few other members of the GTG agency staff. Now, the documentary was ying. Besides introducing the story of the unlikely friendship of rivals, the documentary introduced Nelson and Tristan as debuting artists of the Golden Talent Group agency. Nel''s genuine friendliness towards the world, together with slight bashfulness, made him contrast to Tristan''s aura of allure and danger. They enhanced each other, immediately attracting the attention and curiosity of everybody watching the videos. Although there wasn''t any music yet, people were eagerly waiting for it. And the next videos shown didn''t disappoint. Both Tristan''s and Nel''s performances showed their improvement as artists, even in this short period, and how good they already were. When Nelson yed Tristan''s song, an already fiery melody about leaving the dark past behind to soar toward the skies changed drastically. With a dubstep arrangement, it became something that was at once both so very Nel, but incredibly more Tristan. More wild, and more dangerous. Like a dragonfly, one of the deadliest predators of the insect kingdom! Nelson filmed the cover in an extremely goth costume, although with red fire patterns painted on his jacket. He had ck and white face paint and a pair of fake dragonfly wings attached to his back. But his background was a peacefulke. It was so out of ce¡­ but somehow paradoxically fitting. Tristan''s music video was much less paradoxical. He was dressed as he usually was¡ªin ck and leather¡ªexcept for one detail. On his head he was wearing a ck hood-like cap, from which hung several bells¡ªit was simr to a jester hat. When he was ying, Tristan sometimes shook his head, making the bells ring, and creating an extra rhythm for the melody of the song. Although the sounds were actually added in post-production, the movements fit perfectly in their rhythm. Tristan''s fingers flew over the guitar strings with incredible finesse, and his voice reached the skies and the hearts of every listener. The background was a semi-dark stage, with mannequins arranged in ce of the living audience in a straightforward metaphor, which still gave some room for interpretation. The result of the music video was an almost lyrical rock song. More tragic than optimistic, it still resonated with Nelson as he watched it. At the same time, there was confidence and assurance that only Tristan could give to a musical piece. When thest chord ended and the video finished, the hall exploded with apuse and cheers. This wasn''t the result of just Tristan''s and Nel''s work! The production team worked just as hard, but seeing this video, they were ecstatic because they were sure it would all pay off. "This is incredible!" Derek said, raising his voice against the mor. "Mr. Gemello, Mr. Mayar¡ªyou had a vital part in creating something incredible today! It will be an amazing debut piece for both of you. I have no doubts at all that it will blow up!" Nelughed sheepishly, looking a bit dazed. "If so, it will all be Tristan''s work. I swear, the things he can do with a guitar¡­ I bet all the women in this hall wanted to be that guitar!" Tristan pped Nel''s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "Come on! Don''t take yourself so lowly¡ªyou were amazing, too. Your cover gave me an idea for my contest entry song!" That wasn''t a secret, since they were doing musical practice together often, even when it wasn''t rted to their covers. And Derek also knew¡ªTristan asked him for advice on what would work best for the contest. The manager had years of experience in things like these, after all. "This just tells me how incredible your skills arepared to mine, Tris. No wonder I lost in the first round. I bet even if Ipeted in a different city, I''d still lose." Tristan silently shook his head, but stopped trying to convince Nel. Instead, he turned to Derek. "So when are the videos going to be released to the public?" The manager, who was now managing the social ounts of both artists, hummed thoughtfully. "Since the videos are good, then with two days for onest check of them just in case¡­ Next Monday will be a good time." Tristan nodded. Next Monday¡­ Just before he will really need these Criminal Points. "I can''t wait already." Chapter 87: Suffering from success Everybody''s expectations didn''t disappoint. The release of the videos, which marked a proper debut of Tristan and Nel as artists, went splendidly from the very first day. In a week after that, it only grew bigger. In that week, Tristan and Nel''s music video, together with their documentaries, and with the videos of their live performance at the contest, gathered hundreds of thousands views! In total, the videos made for more than a million views. It was an astounding spike, a rare breakout debut for both artists! All nder about Nel waspletely forgotten in light of their sess. Already, money was dripping from the streaming services, which were broadcasting their songs. The pair was steadily bing viral and gaining a fanbase. Tristan''s Second Identity System notified him he had 50 thousand fans, and over 150 thousand people that were just impressed by him! That tranted into an astounding number of 10000 Criminal Points. Now the fans liked his posts¡ªeven the casual ones that were more for Tristan''s own enjoyment than for the sake of his image¡ªsent him adoringments and bought his merchandise. Derek''s idea about making a documentary video really was great. It didn''t get as many views as the music videos, but the story from it rapidly spread across the Inte, where people could read it and feel good about the world. When so many celebrity posts were just rage bait, stories like these, about unlikely friendships and young talents that came from humble origins (or mysterious origins, since Tristan kept quiet about his own), were like a breath for fresh air. The merchandise of the pair was rapidly arranged by the GTG agency in the form of simplest T-shirts, mugs, badges and posters. However, they were already making contracts for more things to sell. At the same time, several radio stations asked for the right to y ''Dragonfly'' and ''Jester Jester''¡ªboth normal and cover versions. That also meant money. Even after the agency''s cut (which recouped losses on making the videos and then racked a nice profit on top), Tristan and Nel were left with several thousand dors each, and more were constantly trickling. "I''m not even sure what to do with all that money at once," Nel admitted to Tristan after that. "I mean, I''m gonna pay my rent, of course! My savings were running low, anyway. But after that? Maaaaaan, there are so many things I don''t even know where to start!" "Get yourself a car," Tristan suggested. He was already making a shopping list for himself, but most of it was probably going to be invested in his criminal undertakings. With so many Criminal Points that Tristan was waiting to spend on attributes and talents he wanted the most, he had huge ns for the next month. Especially since he will have to be in Los Angeles for the CYS contest. Nel pouted. "I don''t know how to drive¡­ I''d rather spend all that money on taxis, then. And more clothes never hurt¡­ A new guitar, too. There''s a guitar sold that''s just like the one That Guy used at his most famous concert¡ªI will show you the link. It''s the one where he was bitten by a bat!" "You mean HE bit a bat, no?" "Well, yes, but then the bat bit him back and he had to take a rabies shot. No one tells THAT part, but it happened!" Tristanughed. "Just get yourself something nice to y your next songs on. Chase your current hype, release more songs before it disappears!" "Yeah, yeah. Mr. Derek already told us we should hurry and release our albums. Hey, maybe we can make a song for a duet!" "That''d be cool, although I think I won''t have time until the contest ends. That''s going to slow me down¡­" Tristan frowned. "It will be for the better, though. That contest can be shown on the big TV channels. If you win, you REALLY will be famous! You will leave me eating dust behind you, Tris, aha-ha-ha!" Tristan chuckled, together with Nel''s openughter. But it wasn''t all sunshine and rainbows. Of course, there were some haters, because some people hated everything, and others wrote hateful messages just to provoke a reaction. But among them, there were some concerning people. Not all of them were even haters¡­ It started with amentary under Tristan and Nel''s documentary. [I dont wanna believe that they are just friends *o* *o* *o* I ship them so hard!] Thatmentary, when Tristan noticed it, already had a thread around it, which was steadily growing in size. He had to search for the meaning of the word "ship" in this context, and then for the phenomenon of shippers, but when he did¡­ Tristan groaned and rubbed his eyes, trying to unsee this. He knew the Inte was a depraved ce, but this much? It was just like Jane''s brief suspicion, except Jane was disgusted by the idea. That person, however, together with many other like-minded people, was eager about it! Next day, the same person released on their page a¡ªpretty good quality-wise, admittedly¡ªsketch of Tristan and Nel kissing in their stage costumes. Although the art style was stylized, the simrities were unmistakable. Nel found out about it, too, and called Tristan in almost panic. "What do I do, Tris? I asked Mr. Derek already, but he said to just ignore these people. But I''m not gay!" "Calm down, Nel. Really¡­ The art is mildly gross, and I''m sure there will be even grosser art in no time, but these people are also gonna be our most die-hard fans." Tristan sighed. "No one sane believes them, anyway." Nel didn''t sound very convinced when he replied. "I guess¡­ Do you think they''d change their mind if I actually dated a girl?" "Nope." "Ah. Damn¡­ I just¡ªWell." "I get it, I get it. I''d hate it if someone called me the same insult as my shitty parents." "Yeah¡­ You got that right. Anyway, I didn''t mean to distract you from business. Bye." And about two hours after this call, the shippers and rumors were given new fuel when the nderous article about Nel suddenly resurfaced from the depths where it belonged. Chapter 88: Clubbing time! The nderous article itself was actually deleted by this point¡ªJane arranged it even without Tristan''s prompting, which showed that her empty head had at least half a brain. However, nothing truly disappears from the Inte, and someone saved the screenshots and text of part of the article and now posted them, prompting even more discussion and spection in the fanmunity. None of it was even really negative. Tristan just scowled at the discussion thread for a bit and left it be. He hoped Nel calmed down enough to do the same. When the other artist didn''t mention anything about itter, Tristan thought he was fine. At least, until the middle of their next lunch together. Nel tried very hard to hide his dejection, but Tristan didn''t have 923 points in observation skill for nothing. Even Nel''s clothing, which was just as shy as it had been since signing a contract with GTG, couldn''t distract Tristan from theck of spark in Nel''s eyes. And yet, Nel stubbornly pretended that everything was fine. For someone like him, who wore his heart on his sleeve, this was unusual. Tristan respected that, though. Not that he needed to ask Nel to know. He could put two and two together. From the asional guilty sh or flinch in Nel''s eyes and posture when their fans and their talks were mentioned, Tristan guessed that Nel just didn''t want to bother him with his problems. That being the damned article. However, Nel clearly tried to put it behind him as everybody told him to, and eventually, he would seed. It seemed like Tristan could just do the same andy the matter to rest. Tristan tapped his fingers on the table. He couldn''t imagine how he''d feel if someone dug up the pictures of his face before the Second Identity System. The thought alone made him shudder internally. For Nel, this was clearly something simr, and Tristan sympathized with him. Now the blonde was trying to pull through on his own¡ªjust like Tristan had to. But even Tristan had something akin to friends¡­ which turned out to be shitty and backstabbing eventually, but Tristan had good moments with them. Hell. Even Evelyn raised Tristan''s self-esteem at the time a little. Her "advances" were unwanted and just a way to make Mark jealous, but no other girl tried to flirt with Tristan after seeing his face. And sometimes, Tristan had almost believed that Evelyn mightkind of genuinely a tiny bit like him. Nel also had a friend, and Tristan won''t be a backstabbing bitch to him. "It''s been a long while since I went clubbing. Damn, I can''t even remember how long exactly." Before the scars, certainly, even if he was too young for the full, alcohol-fueled experience. "You have a free evening tomorrow, right, Nel?" "Clubbing?" Tristan nodded. "A distraction for both of us. And we still didn''t celebrate our recent sess properly¡ªwe really should!" Nel looked startled. "I never actually went clubbing before. My town barely had any clubs to speak of¡­" "Then it''s decided. And," Tristan reached out and pulled Nel''s beanie over his eyes, "dress properly for the asion. If you aren''t sparkling harder than a Twilight vampire in sunlight, you aren''t even trying." *** Next day. Nelson tried. When Tristan stopped near his apartment building to pick him up, he saw that Nel was dressed with plenty of shine, although without glitter. He found himself a jacket, a left half of which was red, and the right half was white. Both halves were covered in shiny metal studs. Below was a pair of white leather pants covered in matching studs. Nel''s ck undershirt and shoes finished the look. Tristan gave him a thumbs up. He was dressed more ck-and-white, but added shine with extra rings, bracelets and ring chains. The club Tristan invited them both to was a mid-grade ce with regr live performances from small rock bands. From what Tristan''s criminal contacts knew, the club wasn''t associated with any above average criminal activity, and the reviews were good. As soon as the pair stepped in, they were hit by a wave of electronic music, the beat of which immediately made Tristan''s feet itchy. Plenty of people were around: some drinking, some dancing on the dance floor. Nel looked a bit overwhelmed. Tristan grabbed his arm. "Let''s grab some drinks and go dance!" he shouted. As soon as the couple sat at the bar and ordered their drinks, they attracted attention from the other patrons, especially women. Tristan and Nel were both young, attractive people and moved with the charisma of professional performers. Even Nelson, who was timid at first, rxed visibly after his first fruity girl drink with more alcohol content than a shot of vodka. Tristan drank much less, preferring to be alert. However, he also rxed more, smiling and enjoying the attention they both inadvertently attracted. When the drinks were gone, Tristan stood up and pulled Nel after him again. Tristan had to shout over the music to be heard. "Now to dance while the legs still carry us. Come on! I know you got the moves!" "I never actually learned how to dance!" Nel protested, still following Tristan. "Not like you, or on stage¡ª" "That''s not about lessons! I never took them either! Though, ha-ha, I''m just special. Now,e on!" Tristan took a free spot in the crowd and began improvising the dance moves in the rhythm of the music, which was permeating the air. The words were unimportant, only the beat mattered, and it was the beat of life. At that moment, dancing and enjoying it was the only thing Tristan focused on. With more than a thousand points in dancing skill, Tristan was moving better than a professional dancer would in his ce. He looked like someone straight out of a music video, which was sped up slightly to look more incredible than an already incredible reality. Nel didn''t join Tristan. He was stunned by the awe-striking disy! And near them, more and more people noticed Tristan''s moves and were forced to just stop and watch, too! Chapter 89: Adored by people Tristan wasn''t even trying, but he still captured people''s attention, and the knowledge made hime up with even wilder moves. Seeing that Nel was standing still, Tristan raised his eyebrows in a silent challenge. The expression jolted Nel, and the man hurried to the dance floor. There, Nel stood opposite of Tristan and began dancing too, trying to outdo Tristan. At first his movements were stilted, but Nel soon got into it, and began dancing with the same wild energy with which he yed music. He wasn''t even close to Tristan''s skill, but it didn''t matter. Both of them were just enjoying themselves, not really caring about looking good. But they both still looked amazing, and the handsome blonde caught plenty of interested eyes, too. Soon, a circle of people gathered around both dancers, watching and cheering. A couple of spectators were recording the dance on their phones. Notifications about impressed people popped up in the corner of Tristan''s eyes, but their sound was drowned out by music. Someone pointed his finger at Tristan, gasping in recognition and awe. After a minute of the man shouting into other people''s ears, more people turned to Tristan and Nelson with simr expressions. A song ended, and there was a moment of quiet as the DJ switched tracks. Tristan and Nel paused, catching their breath after the intense dance and sharing wordless grins. At that moment, the man pushed through the circle of observers. "Excuse me! You¡ªYou really are him! Tristan Gemello and Nelson Mayar! Oh my god, can I get your autographs, please?" Nel gasped, then beamed from ear to ear. "S-seriously? Of course! Man, I-I''ve never been just recognized on a street like that before¡­" Tristanughed. "Aren''t we just lucky? Come on," he waved to the fan, "let''s move from the dance floor first. Do you have a pen?" Tristan and Nel walked to one of the free tables. Behind them followed a trail of people: some of them eager to meet the pop-stars, while others were just curious about what was happening. The music red loudly again, making conversations harder, but that didn''t give anyone pause. One of the fans found a pen, and someone got a paper notepad from the bar, so now Tristan and Nel had something to write signatures on and with. "I just watched a documentary with you by ident, and then I got curious and listened to your songs. They were amazing! But I couldn''t believe you were really friends in real life," the first fan bbered. "But you definitely are! When I go home, I willminate this signature. In a few years, it would cost a million dors, I bet! My name is Robert¡ªplease, write it there!" Tristan grinned at that, scribbling his and Robert''s names on the paper, while Nel looked almost ready to tear up. "Thank you so much for believing in us, Robert!" he said, writing the same words on paper. "This really means so much!" There were a few other people. Robert was the most die-hard fan out of them, but others were just as nice, exchanging autographs with excitedpliments. "You dance as great as you sing! Will you dance more tonight?" "Oh, that meeting is gonna be SUCH a story! Can I post it on my page? Oh, thank you!" "Guitarists are so hot. Thank you for an autograph; please, have my phone number." When the woman who said thetter stopped batting her eyshes at both Tristan and Nel, Tristan huffed at her back. Unlike him, Nel was grinning even brighter than before, although he showed as much interest in the woman''s phone as Tristan. She was also thest person who wanted Tristan and Nel''s attention. "This is so awesome, Tris." Nel plopped his head on an arm and grinned. "Thanks so much for bringing me out here. All these people¡­ I can''t believe they actually care!" Tristan raised his eyebrows. "Come on, really? With all thements online, you didn''t believe it until now?" "Comments online aren''t the same! How many of them even belong to real people and not bots? Now these," Nel gestured at the club around them, "these are definitely real and here! And they adore us!" Tristan leaned back in his seat and nodded. This impromptu meet-and-greet was great. However, the best part of it was the shine in Nel''s eyes. Tristan''s n to cheer him up worked out better than he imagined. "How about another drink and some more dancing, Nel?" "You bet!" *** Approximately ten hourster, the next day. Tristan didn''t sleep, but he was still hungover by now as he was lying in his bed,ptop at his side. He and Nel had quite a few drinks by the end of thest night, and Tristan had a unique opportunity to experience the entire process of sobering up in real time. A fly was buzzing in the room for a tenth minute by now. The sound was even more annoying with a hangover. Finally, its aimless flight brought it closer to Tristan. His left hand darted out with arrow-like speed, catching the fly in his fist and crushing it. The blessed silence returned. With a grimace, Tristan stood up and went to wash his hand from the insect''s guts. After that and sshing his face with cold water, Tristan decided he was feeling well enough to deal with business. Ever since getting those 11 thousand Criminal Points, Tristan had been gathering new skills and talents. The talents weren''t as immediately useful at first nce as ''Bullet Time'' or ''Hypnotic Voice'', but were worth the points in Tristan''s mind. Now was the time to spend the rest of his points and use the new abilities to increase his criminal rank and status. Tristan was going to use former Cuatro Angulos resources to n an expansion of the King Lion Gangwork into Los Angeles¡ªthe ce where he had to be in December. If all went well, he will kill two birds with one stone. ''Status!'' Chapter 90: Three new talents [======] [Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)] [Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.] [Pop-star rank: Contracted Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Made Man.] [Pop-star Points: 0] [Criminal Points: 1030] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 150] [Charisma: 238] [Fearsomeness: 136] [Strength: 223] [Dexterity: 228] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 1357] [Dancing: 1079] [ying guitar: 1495] [Music theory: 680] [Music production: 523] [Acting: 813] [Songwriting: 1234] [Voice control: 811] [Stage presence: 763] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [ying flute: 1] [ying violin: 1] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1224] [Observation: 923] [Driving: 618] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 816] [Athletics: 419] [Treating injuries: 201] [Lockpicking: 1] [Combat analysis: 505] [Hacking: 1406] [Governing: 450] [Torture: 1] [Logistics: 1] [Forgery: 1] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [Bullet Time] [Hypnotic Voice] [Sight Awareness] [Electronic Sight Awareness] [Ambidextrous] [======] Tristan got 4 new skills and 3 new talents, before being left with only 1030 Criminal Points. The skills were just whatever he saw in the shop, although the forgery skill had a lot of potential. The talents were more purposeful. [Sight Awareness: you can sense when and where from someone is looking at you.] [Electronic Sight Awareness: you can sense when and where from automatic cameras are filming you.] [Ambidextrous: you perform all tasks with both hands with equal ease.] The first two Tristan picked on sight, even though they didn''t seem all that useful in theory. After all, he had the observation skill. However, after he felt on himself the harsh penalty of someone knowing his second identity, Tristan wanted to be sure that no one spotted him changing identities by ident when he was distracted! Now, whenever someone looked at him, or a camera recorded him, Tristan felt the gaze like a physical pressure on his skin. He couldn''t tell much from it, besides whether it was a person or a camera, but feather-light brushes of fleeing nces were also different from direct intense stares. It made Tristan feel much safer. Now he knew that no assassin would sneak up on him and snipe him without him noticing, no matter how good he was. As for the ''Ambidextrous'' talent, it allowed Tristan to shoot two guns at once with total uracy, getting the most out of his ''Bullet Time'' talent. As a bonus, it helped him y musical instruments better, and even to dance. Overall, Tristan''s control over the left half of his body improved dramatically. Now Tristan looked at his skills, his attributes, and his points, then tapped on the ''fearsomeness''. [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased from 136 to 236.] A change went through Tristan''s body. Nothing noticeable changed, but his gaze shed with unnerving intensity. The air of danger around him sharpened, bing much more real. Then Tristan forcefully rxed his posture, diminishing this aura to something that made him look less like a gangster and more like a delinquent. He smiled, as always especially satisfied after spending arge sum of points at once. ''Time to earn more Pop-star Points for the uing contest. I want my performance to be shown not just on state TV, but on the American main TV channels, and this means I will have to perform not just well¡­ but stunningly well!'' *** This evening. Cuatro Angulos'' former drug-selling channels within the city were now fully under King Lion Gang''s control. Those dealers that didn''t bow their heads were disposed of and reced. Almost all drugs from the Cuatro Angulos haul were either sold or already scheduled to be. With the new resources and one of their major rivals removed from the city map, King Lion Gang was rapidly increasing in size and influence. It was dominating the city, and it was only a matter of time until they had total control of it. Right now, smaller gangs could run around it like scavengers looking for scraps from the lion''s meal, but Leon von already began absorbing them into King Lion Gang''s ranks. More people, though, meant more work to organize them all. To make sure that all who needed to pay, paid; all who needed to be paid were paid; no one in the gang had to stay homeless or go hungry; and punish anybody who caused unrest. That work stably took at least a few hours of Tristan''s time daily, even with the help of other people. There was a knock on the office''s door. Tristan immediately knew who was on the other side¡ªfor one thing, his secretary was ordered to let in very few people without informing Tristan beforehand. And most of them didn''t knock. "Come in!" A young man called Kevin walked in. Recently, Tristan decided he was more useful in the administrative part of business than on field missions. Thest task Kevin was given had rted to dealing with information traces left by Cuatro Angulos before they left the city. In his hands, Kevin carried a sh drive, which he put on Tristan''s table. "I apologize foring without warning, Mr. Hayes, but there''s been a development with the stuff we discovered at Dagoberto Quixada''s office. I mean, not a development. We just found something good." Tristan raised his brows in surprise. "Really? But he destroyed almost all the documents before leaving. At least, that''s what YOUR report said." "He did, but there was a smashedputer in it all. I wasn''t sure this would work, so I didn''t tell you before¡ªbut I went to aputer repair shop and asked them to recover files from the hard drive." Tristan leaned forward with interest. "And?" "The hard drive waspletely untouched. Quixada just smashed theputer monitor¡­" Kevin smirked, and Tristan chuckled, too. Quixada knew nothing aboutputers, apparently. "The hard drive worked again as soon as it got plugged to anotherputer. I had gone through the documents there and copied everything that can be important to this sh drive, Mr. Hayes." "Amazing! You will get a bonus. Next time, though, tell me about ns like these beforehand¡­ I don''t like surprises, even pleasant ones." Kevin shifted uneasily under Tristan''s frown, but his eyes shone greedily at the mention of money. "Yes, Mr. Hayes." "Now tell me¡ªwhat exactly did you find, Kevin?" Chapter 91: A target painted on Tristans back "Now tell me¡ªwhat exactly did you find, Kevin?" "I found out how Cuatro Angulos got so much drugs past the border, Mr. Hayes." Tristan''s eyes widened. That was a secret worth over ten million dors! Judging by Kevin''s smile, he realized that, too. "The boss of Cuatro Angulos has a few very high-profile people under his thumb. The kind that can go past customs without their luggage being checked, and have reasons to often travel between America and Mexico. That''s not their only way of bypassing border control, but it seems to be the main one for drug-rted things." "That''s¡­ incredible. But, hm. There was still nothing on the Angulos boss himself?" "No, Mr. Hayes. He''s very secretive. Which is understandable, considering the price on his head put by the Mexican government." Tristan nodded. He''d hide his name too, if he didn''t have the luxury of a secret identity, anyway. "Was there any information on who these people are exactly, Kevin?" "Not much, but¡­ I think many of them are celebrities, pop-stars, that sort of thing. At least one of them, as far as I could guess, is probably somewhere in America at the moment. Look for yourself." Tristan nodded, then swiftly wrote an order on a piece of paper, signing it with his name. He passed the paper to Kevin. "Give it to our ountant. If I find something useful in these files, I will give you more." Kevin read the order and smiled. "2000 dors? Thank you, Mr. Hayes. I hope you won''t get disappointed." Tristan dismissed him with a wave of hand. He still had documents to deal with, but they weren''t time-sensitive, so he set them aside and inserted the sh drive into hisptop. The documents Kevin copied there were all various administrative documents, and although none of them said anything direct about anyone, Tristan''s observation skill immediately noticed many clues. It all went down to thest known drug delivery. And considering its size, Tristan doubted there were many others. There weren''t any names, but there were clues that the person who delivered it came to the US on a tour. Like a concert tour. So they were a musician. Read chapters at m_v-l''e|-NovelBin Grinning, Tristan searched up all the concerts from the touring musicians in his city in the previous month. Then he filtered out all who didn''te on a tour from Mexico. There was only one person left: a popr rapper/hip-hop singer, Big Rocket. Publicly avable information told Tristan that despite performing in English and Spanish, he came from Mexico, and he regrly toured between countries, crossing the border onnd. It was a perfect cover to bring a bunch of drugs, and perhaps even several cartel soldiers, past the customs. Another quick search told Tristan that by now, he had finished the tour, but still stayed in Los Angeles. Pics from his social pages showed he was rxing in the usual style of rappers and "searching inspiration for his next album". It didn''t look like he was in any hurry to return to his homnd. "Ah, Los Angeles. The city of Hollywood. All the roads lead to you, don''t they?" Tristan muttered, grinning. "I will need to give Kevin another five grand." Now he didn''t need to try hard about a reason to be in Los Angeles. Although to present a n to Leon von, he will have to flesh it out more. ''Then, instead of moving to arger apartment in this city, I will just move permanently right to LA!'' *** In a very different ce. Actually, this happened in two ces at once, yet at the same time, nowhere. It was a conversation that happened on the Inte, between two people separated by unknown distances, but still on the same page. Both of them preferred to be anonymous, but one was known as the mysterious boss of Cuatro Angulos, and the other as an extremely good assassin under a moniker of "No Hope". The first of them had a problem. ording to his¡ªnow demoted to a simple grunt¡ªformer za boss (or a region boss, as those Americans might say) Quixada, a single person led to the cartel''s retreat from Quixada''s city. The boss of Angulos didn''t just believe his words. He made his research. He thought it all through. He decided that Tristan Hayes, indeed, was a problem¡ªand could be an even bigger one. Even killing Leon von was pointless, because Hayes would likely take over him immediately. No Hope was a solution. [I *hope* you are the real deal, because you won''t see the money until I see the confirmation that Tristan Hayes is dead.] [And if I won''t see the money then, you will be dead, too.] In his secret office, the boss of Angulos frowned and began writing a sharp response, but deleted it after a second thought. No Hope was a legend. The best assassin in the world, and even more secretive than the boss of Angulos himself. He (or she, as some people were sure, but not the boss of Angulos) always finished his missions, always killed anyone who skimped on payment, and always avoided being discovered. He had no favorite way of killing, and his targets died in all ways from poison to a bullet. When people found that No Hope was after them, they wrote their will and dressed for their own funeral. However, because of how mysterious he was, with never meeting his clients personally, it was terribly easy to impersonate him. The boss of Angulos was sure that whoever he wrote to at least had good credentials. Perhaps he actually WAS the real deal. Or at least, good enough to deal with Hayes. King Lion dealt Cuatro Angulos a blow, but Angulos never let go without retaliation. While the enemy rxed, thinking that they scared Angulos away for good, they just prepared their forces. The King Lion Gang was living itsst days and not knowing it. Somewhere in the world, an assassin who might or might not be THE No Hope gathered his things and bought a ne ticket to California. Chapter 92: Tristans plan to conquer the sea Next day. With all the expansion of the King Lion Gang, there was a need for more interaction between its individual parts. As a result, meetings between Leon von and his four underbosses were held almost every third day in Leon''s mansion. This was a great opportunity for Tristan to present his hatched n. After the organization''s budget was split between the underbosses, and various hups were smoothed out, Tristan coughed to attract everybody''s attention. "I''d like to show you a project to expand our organization. A lot of funds we got after taking over the local part of Cuatro Angulos were already split, but there is still too much money that just lies there uselessly. I want to change that." Tristan''s suggestion was met with two curious and one skeptical looks. After the weeks of working together, Tristan had charmed most of the people near him, including the other underbosses. But that didn''t mean they all respected him. At least Leon was more curious than skeptical. "I imagine you have a detailed n already, Hayes. Go on!" Tristan smiled. "For one thing¡­ I didn''t tell you yet, but my people recently found something really juicy in Quixada''s documents. It''s all about how they get drugs into America. I think we can reach this channel of theirs and if not tap into it, then at least cut it down and make our own in its ce." Now everybody was curious. Inwardly, Tristan smiled wider. He told everybody briefly about Kevin''s discovery and his own research, then continued with the n he worked the entire night for. "Mr. von already invested a lot of money into a legitimate talent agency, even if mostly just tounder that money. Now, while the GTG agency is under our thumb, why not use it more?" "Huh? How do you imagine that? And how does that rte to drugs, anyway?" Martinez, the underboss with the least respect for Tristan, asked. Tristan gave him a cutting nce and continued as if he wasn''t interrupted. "Soon, one of their artists, Gemello, will travel to Los Angeles to perform in apetition there. GTG will send a few people with him. I think we can send a few people with that group under the guise of security staff or assistants and quietly gather information in Los Angeles. Including information about Big Rocket, while he still stays in LA. He will know more about Angulos'' drug routes if we can reach him." Now others began seeing what Tristan was leaning toward. "With that cover, we can move some forces into the uncharted stone jungle of LA unnoticed by local predators, and then pounce at the most vulnerable prey, stealing it from under their noses and carving a ce for us in those rich hunting grounds. But what will that prey be?" Tristan suppressed a nervous urge to tap his fingers on the table. That part of his n was less fleshed out, simply because he didn''t know enough. But when he spoke, he spoke with conviction, charisma and hypnotism that made people forget about theck of specifics in his words. "Los Angeles is a city built near the sea. Sea and trade¡­ We are bound to find a lot of contacts to whom we can expand both our drug and weapon dealing business!" "A sea ess will bring tremendous profit," Whitman said. "I think this is a brilliant suggestion. However, who is going to lead this operation? Setting up a new cell of an organization isn''t something you can expect a regr grunt to do. But going to an uncharted territory is a lot of risk." Tristan nodded. "Of course. And as someone who proposed the idea, I''m ready to go myself. I already have people in mind who can take over my part of duties while I''m gone¡ªand, of course, I will still be only a call away." Kevin and Tomas will manage together with Tristan''s advice, he was sure. One for administrative work, and another for field work. Martinez red at Tristan without shame. "Thest time you suggested a n for an operation, its leader died. Who says this time won''t end the same?" Martinez smirked, as if suggesting that he was going to be happy with this. "We shouldn''t be too cocky! Instead of expanding like this, we should fully take control of this city and only then think about moving farther out!" Leon mmed his palm on the table¡ªnot hard enough to shake the coffee cups standing there, but hard enough to make people jolt. "Despite Pierce''s death, the operation was aplete sess. And this city will soon be too small for us, anyway! I know Hayes won''t disappoint me. Now tell me more details, Hayes¡ªwhat budget do you need?" They talked about the n in more detail after that. The operation didn''t require too much money at first nce¡ªjust enough to equip and send a few people. However, costs of living and renting an apartment for these people in LA was much higher than in a smaller city. Although on paper, GTG will pay for all that, in practice, King Lion Gang will give GTG the necessary money and some on top to keep the agency''s CEOpliant. Besides that, Tristan knew he would need money on bribes and other unexpected spendings. The end result was a sizable sum, but thanks to all the profit King Lion Gang got from Cuatro Angulos, Leon von could give it to Tristan with a light heart. When the meeting ended, Tristan left it with a small smile on his face. It didn''t dim even after a dark re sent at him by Martinez. "We are warming up a snake on our chest," the older man muttered, passing Tristan by and marching toward the exit. ''Says the snake,'' Tristan thought. ''Let''s see if you are brave enough to actually act on your envy, or if you will keep whispering behind my back until I rise in rank above you and crush you under my foot. Asshole.'' Chapter 93: Going to Los Angeles, city of Hollywood! A weekter. [Ding!] [Your Pop-star rank has changed from Contracted Young Star to Sessful Neer! Reward: your CP increased by 2000!] An hour after Tristan got this sudden notification, he was called by Derek in the middle of his music rehearsal. "Yes?" "Mr. Gemello. Forgive me for being so sudden, but I don''t know when else I will have time to talk with all the preparations for your trip to Los Angeles. I was told that your and Mr. Mayar''s debut was an enormous sess! So much so that you both were invited as guest stars to a red carpet event promoting the premiere of the uing ''Under Wrong Sky'' movie." ''Oh, so that''s probably why my rank suddenly increased now,'' Tristan thought, grinning. "Under Wrong Sky¡­ That''s some cheap movie, isn''t it? I barely heard about it." Some drama about a man who was reborn to fix the mistakes of his previous life. Since it was just a drama, it could be made with a low budget and still be potentially sessful, not that Tristan cared. "Yes, it doesn''t have a huge budget, but it will still be a great opportunity for both of you! In show business, it''s very important to make friends in the right ces. Mr. Gemello, you are an incredibly charismatic person¡ªI''m sure that all those Hollywood people will love you once they put their eyes on you." Tristan hummed in agreement. "Yes, yes. I wille, of course. And when is it?" "In two weeks. The invitations are usually sent much more in advance¨Cyou and Mr. Mayar were clearly ast-minute addition. But you will be there in time. Almost all the arrangements for your arrival in LA are already made." The contest''s organizers could provide tickets and living arrangements for those contestants who needed it, but Tristan chose to travel on his own, together with a team that the GTG agency sent to support him. After all, this was going to be his public appearance, bound to make a ssh. For the sake of this, Tristan''s manager had toe, a few staff people, and since Leon von pushed GTG''s CEO, Garstean, to do him a favor¡­ There was also a security team of four people. All four people were gangsters that Tristan handpicked from his most loyal and versatile people. Although there were only four, they were a scouting team, so there wasn''t a need for more people. For the gang, Tristan Hayes left his cover and method of transportation top secret. "Good! I''d rather go there sooner thanter. The air of Los Angeles will help me with songwriting," Tristan joked. "Don''t worry, Mr. Derek, I will only be partying and drinking responsibly." Derek shook his head on the other side of the call, smiling to himself. When he spoke, his tone was again serious but kind. "The trip is scheduled for tomorrow, and everything is booked for the same time. Please, be patient, Mr. Hayes, and don''t drive to Los Angeles ahead of us all. Now, I still have to exin all that to Mr. Mayar, so I have to go. Good luck with your rehearsals." *** Next day. "A car trip! Ah, I haven''t been on one since EVER!" Nel sighed dreamily as he fixed his safety belt. "The only thing missing is a convertible." Tristan huffed. "Don''t forget whose car you are sitting in." He wished he''d travel to Los Angeles with more pomp, but the truth was, he was still not on the level of private jets and limousines. As it was, the GTG agency brought out arge tour truck for various music equipment, as well as their people; Tristan, Nel and Derek traveled in Tristan''s car. Nel took the shotgun seat, while Derek sat on the back. Just so Tristan will have his car in LA. Originally, the car for artists was going to be provided by the agency, too. He didn''t have to drive, but he chose to, at least for now. It was an 8-hour-drive to LA. Tristan started the car and drove after the main truck. He opened the side window, enjoying the st of fresh, almost-winter air. "Nel, turn on the radio. Find something good." "Sure, man." He switched the stations for a while until he heard a familiar melody. "Dark and below, I am no more! Find the light, break the night!" Nel gasped. "Oh, that''s yours!" He immediately began singing along. "Take flight!" Tristan grinned and drove faster through the city streets. He joined too, and to his surprise, heard Derek sing along from the back of the car. "I soar toward ss dreams, Dragonfly!" This was going to be a fun ride. *** An hourter. The lock of Tristan''s apartment door clicked a few times and gave up. A man dressed in ordinary "touristy" clothing, with his face shadowed by a brim of his Panama hat, put away his lockpicks and stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind him. He made sure to not disturb a single item as he sneaked through the empty apartment and entered the bathroom. There, the assassin pulled out a pistol with a silencer and waited. And waited. And waited. By evening, he felt worried (and hungry). By night, he realized that something was deeply wrong. The assassin spent almost a week finding information about Tristan Hayes and his habits without actually approaching him. This assassin was so sessful so far, because his victims never saw himing. And they didn''t see it, because he was always so careful about gathering information and not rming the targets! Now he realized he was probably too careful. Cursing, the assassin left the building and contacted his informants again. They all were asleep, forcing the assassin to wait until morning. "What do you mean Hayes had left the city for a special mission? What do you MEAN that happened yesterday? And where is he now? Well, find out! Ugh. I''m paying you money for information that''s not terribly outdated." Later that day, the assassin who might have, or might have not, been THE No Hope, gathered his things again and drove to Los Angeles. Chapter 94: Fashion and crime in Los Angeles Next morning. "I can''t believe you are doing this in such an early hour," Nel muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Are really a human, Tris? Do you ever sleep? No, the real question will be¡­ Why did I agree toe with you?" Tristanughed. Previous evening and night were taken by the team setting into their hotel and resting after the long journey. While the others slept soundly, Tristan used the Inte to deal with the King Lion Gang''s business back in his city, and then to check out some information he needed today. There was a lot to do, and Tristan was incredibly excited about it. "This is Los Angeles! You never know when you see someone world-ss celebrity around here! There are so many tourist traps we didn''t see yet¡­" Tristan waved his hand around, and Nel followed his movement with his own excitement. A momentter, it soured. "I don''t know about celebs, but there are surely a lot of homeless guys." A pair of grimy hobos sitting on a sidewalk followed Nel with a dirty nce. However, when Tristan red back at them, they hurriedly looked away. Since Tristan and Nel weren''t very famous, they didn''t bother taking their security with them on this walk. The security was more for events and their things. And, of course, because they needed a reason to be in the city. All four gangsters were given orders to obey Tristan, Nel and Derek as if they were actual people from security. Their primary orders came from Hayes via phones. So far, they were just givenmand to scope out the ce. Tristan was doing the same even as he walked casually from the parking lot and down the street. That night, he had increased his observation skill from 923 to 1423. While he chatted, Tristan spotted various signs of criminal activity and used them to make a mental map of the local underworld. "I didn''t just bring you for a stroll, you know," Tristan said casually. "Well, that too. But actually, I wanted your help with some shopping!" "Shopping?" "Of course. This is a city of high fashion! We need costumes for the movie event, and I need a stage costume. I mean, I already have one, but there''s always a room for improvement." Nel stared at Tristan for a moment, then snickered in his fist. "Man, Tris, you sound more excited than a girl who stole her rich dad''s credit card!" Tristan ran a palm through his hair in a graceful gesture,pletely unashamed. Maybe there''d be a time when ament like that would''ve made Tristan self-conscious, but since the beginning of his careers, Tristan''s confidence grew even more than it had been. Besides, he could see from the start that Nelson wasn''t mocking him at all. "And?" "Nothing, nothing. I actually tried to imagine you wearing a dress and holding a purse, but you''d still look handsome." Nel shook his head. "You could''ve be a fashion model easily if you wanted to." Tristan smirked. "And right now, we are going to try some fashion." He had money to spend, and he really was excited about it. But shopping only took a few hours. There were no events nned in the artists'' schedule; but after a morning of being dragged around, Nel dered he needed more rxation and went back to the hotel. Tristan was free to explore on his own and change identities as he pleased. With that, he used his funds to secure a modest 2-bedroom apartment that could serve as a base of operation or a safehouse for his gangster crew. Then, he rented another apartment, a more luxurious one¡ªfor his own Hayes identity. Tristan Gemello stayed in the hotel for now. In that apartment, Tristan hid some weapons he brought as a contraband hidden in his Gemello things. In case someone went through them, it was much safer to keep them here. Even if it meant that Tristan was down to a knife unless he came prepared. Find more adventures on m-v|-NovelBin He made sure both apartments weren''t far from his hotel. ''One day I will get enough money to buy these apartments permanently. Or apartments like these, I guess. One day¡ªsoon.'' Tristan spent more time in his criminal identity, watching people and asionally approaching local small criminals for information. Prostitutes and dealers were the chattiest of them all, especially prostitutes. And theter in the day it was, the more of them appeared. Under the pressure of Tristan''s hypnotic voice, charisma, fearsomeness, and money, all these people spilled information like a burst of pinata spilled candy. Los Angeles really was a rich hunting ground. There was a lot of profit to be made with petty tourist crime¡ªbut most local gangs, all of which were small, mostly stuck to less popr areas. Tristan bid goodbye to thest prostitute he talked with and went down the street toward where he left his car. As soon as he left a narrower alleyway, he felt a pressure of someone''s watchful gaze on his back. Acting casually, Tristan turned his head as if to fix his hair and spotted a pair of police officers sitting a car, watching him with slight suspicion. He huffed to himself. The cops weren''t here when Tristan went to a more private ce (to chat, not to do what she expected originally) with the prostitute. ''There are damn many cops out here, guarding all the rich tourists like dogs. They won''t catch me or my people, of course, but it''s annoying.'' This meant that to establish a new business here, and to gather his own localbat force¡ªa force that will increase his status in the King Lion Gang even higher¡ªTristan will have to work extremely carefully. Tristan Gemello returned to the hotel for the night¡ªjust to pretend that he went to sleep here. After midnight, Tristan Hayes sneaked out of the hotel''s door, intending to spend more timeworking and return before anybody from his team woke up. At the same time, on another side of the city, an anonymous assassin drove onto the streets of LA, following a clue from one of his police contacts. Chapter 95: Preparing to meet Big Rocket Next day. "Mr. Derek, you know many people in the showbiz industry, even if you worked from a smaller city than this one," Tristan said, gesturing at the view of Los Angeles outside the window. "Help me with something, please." He had approached the manager during his breakfast. Nel was still asleep, but Derek was an early bird. Derek smiled. "It''s my job to help you with everything I can, Mr. Gemello. Well¡­ At least until it''s rted to your art!" He chuckled. "Although even if it''s something personal, I''d love to help. I can argue to my boss that your art will only suffer if you are stressed from personal problems." Tristan grinned and waved his hand dismissively. "It''s not a problem, exactly. You know a rapper called Big Rocket? I want to meet him, but I don''t even know where he will be next night. And if I just write to him, he won''t even read, I know it." Derek blinked. "Big Rocket? Yes, I''ve heard of him¡­ I didn''t think you were interested in his music." "I''m not." Derek stared at Tristan. Tristan stared back. A few silent secondster, Derek coughed and looked away. "I see, I see. Well, I will do what I can, but don''t expect much, Mr. Gemello. As this is a personal matter, I can only help you personally, after all." Tristan smiled and dug into the remains of his half-finished breakfast. "That''s alright, Mr. Derek. That''s all I ask." *** While Derek did Tristan a favor, alongside his other duties, Tristan continued to spread his web on the streets. With information from some lower-ranked gangsters, he found contacts of people higher in the food chain. All that was left is to set up a meeting and give these people an offer they can''t refuse. This was all a part of Tristan''s n, although not one he told the other underbosses and Leon von. First, he will find all he can about the underworld of LA and Big Rocket''s dealings with Cuatro Angulos. Second, he will enlist and unite several local gangs, using the influence of the King Lion Gang as leverage. (And possibly calling in more people from Tristan''s home city if necessary.) Third, he will establish or conquer local sources of ie. For himself, not for the King Lion Gang. Fourth, Tristan will return to Leon von triumphantly and with enough weight behind him that Leon von will have to be his equal partner in leading the gang. Or even a subordinate. As if he read the ns in Tristan''s mind and wanted to help him out, Derek brought him the information Tristan wanted only a dayter¡ªfaster than Tristan expected. "People say that Big Rocket will show up as a VIP guest and a DJ at the exclusive party at ''Urban Mirage'' nightclub, among a number of other celebrities. I''d say you could meet him there, Mr. Gemello, but this party is invite-only, and will happen in only two days. I''m unsure it''d be easy to get an invitation in even two weeks¡ªmuch less two days! This is impossible." Derek sighed and brushed a speck of dust from his purple and white checkered suit. "In this industry, you really can''t move far without knowing the right people." Tristan hummed sympathetically, but inwardly he was smiling already. "Thank you, Mr. Derek. It might not be much, but it''s just what I needed. Don''t worry, I promise to not act like a stalker and wait for him somewhere near the club''s premises¡­ Ha-ha-ha!" Derek jolted, as if the idea had only juste to his head. "Please, don''t! I didn''t say this so you would!" Tristan grinned. "Calm down, calm down. This isn''t even for me, actually, but for my friend. Now, if HE were to stalk a person¡­ Then I will tell the police I don''t know him." Derek smiled and shook his head. "Yes, do no less. I''m d you remember how to protect your reputation, Mr. Gemello." Inwardly, the manager felt like this was his only saving grace. Because he was sure that Tristan was up to something youthfully reckless, and despite a day and night of guessing, he had no idea what. For one thing, Derek wasn''t sure Tristan HAD a "friend". So far, the only one Derek saw was Nelson. ''Do I have to watch him closer now?'' *** In truth, Tristan didn''t n to do anything too reckless. He thought a moment about beating up someone with an invitation to get it, but quickly abandoned the idea. This wasn''t the 18th century, invites were usually electronic now, and people used IDs to check people''s identity. Instead of stealing someone''s passport, Tristan locked himself in a hotel room with aptop and opened his status. Your next journey awaits at m v|l-e''-NovelBin [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Contracted Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Made Man.] [Pop-star Points: 100] [Criminal Points: 1650] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 150] [Charisma: 239] [Fearsomeness: 236] [Strength: 223] [Dexterity: 228] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 1357] [Dancing: 1079] [ying guitar: 1495] [Music theory: 680] [Music production: 523] [Acting: 815] [Songwriting: 1234] [Voice control: 811] [Stage presence: 763] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [ying flute: 1] [ying violin: 1] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1224] [Observation: 1426] [Driving: 618] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 816] [Athletics: 419] [Treating injuries: 201] [Lockpicking: 1] [Combat analysis: 505] [Hacking: 1406] [Governing: 454] [Torture: 1] [Logistics: 4] [Forgery: 1] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [Bullet Time] [Hypnotic Voice] [Sight Awareness] [Electronic Sight Awareness] [Ambidextrous] [======] With small increases of skills and stats, plus hisst rank increase, he had a lot of points. Now Tristan took a thousand of them and¡­ [Ding!] [Hacking skill increased from 1406 to 2406.] Grinning at the feeling of knowledge that poured into his head, Tristan flexed his fingers. This was going to be hard. He didn''t have the time to inject people''sputers with his Beholder trojan and wait for them to type their passwords in. Instead, he was going to hack someone''s ount directly and add himself to the list of invites! Chapter 96: Hacker man Your next read is at m v|l-e''-NovelBin 50 hours until the party. ''Step one¡ªthe ess point,'' Tristan thought, opening the club''s website. ''This won''t be easy¡­ What software are they even using to track their guest list?'' It had to be something easily essible for all employees checking and editing it. There were a dozen of possible applications that a quick search brought up for Tristan, and until he knew which one was used by the Urban Mirage Club, he won''t even know what to hack. There were a lot of methods of getting this information, but most of them required time Tristancked. ''Alright, let''s start with a quick social check.'' For the next two hours, Tristan went through the social pages rted to the Urban Mirage Club, finding names and ces of its employees and looking at their pages. If not for his observation skill, he''d take ten times as much time to do the same amount of work. As it was, he only needed a nce or two at a page to find all the key details. Many people working there were clueless about how much information they were giving to cyber-criminals like Tristan, with seemingly innocuous posts. Eventually, Tristan found what he needed. It was a photo of the Urban Mirage Club''s office, with several people working onputers in separate cubicles, posted as a recruitment promotion. What caught Tristan''s attention was a part of aputer screen that was identally caught in the picture. Although the image was small, Tristan saw enough topare it to the most popr office management programs. In ten minutes, he got his answer and chuckled. ''So they are using the TeamFlow office app? Oh, this is lucky! This means they are using TeamFlow''s cloud storage for at least a part of their data. And here I feared it would all be only in the club''s localwork¡­'' *** 42 hours until the party. "Tris? Tris, can I enter?" Tristan jolted at the voice and a knock on his door that apanied it. He was so immersed in his work that he lost track of time and notifications about his increased hacking skill. TeamFlow app had advanced security, but Tristan was sure that he was on the brink of finding a doorway past it until Nelson distracted him! "No!" Tristan snapped back, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "I''m busy, dammit!" In the hotel''s hallway, Nelson recoiled in shock. This was the first time Tristan snapped at him like that, though Nelson had already seen some of Tristan''s anger before. So, he quickly recovered. "Busy with what? You didn''t leave your room for half the day! Did you even eat, actually?" Huffing, Tristan folded hisptop and went to open his door. Nel immediately tried to push past him inside, but Tristan stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Just leave me be for now, alright? I know what I''m doing, and I don''t need you to be concerned." As he said this, Tristan felt a sucking sensation in his stomach, and realized that he didn''t eat, in fact. The realization, and the genuine concern in Nel''s eyes, softened his anger. "Sorry, I didn''t mean to snap. Yeah, I really should eat something before I bite off your head!" Nel beamed. "Great! Let''s go to the hotel''s restaurant. And then you will tell me what WERE you actually doing." Tristan clicked his tongue and walked past Nel into the hallway. "I was writing song lyrics," Tristan lied effortlessly. "There''s something I really felt like putting down on paper. But I can''t do it without fuel in my stomach, you are right." "Oh, new lyrics? Will you show me?" "Maybeter. I''m unsure about them yet. They might go to another song entirely, not to thepetition." "Aww, damn." Tristan sighed, feeling trapped in his own lies. Now he will actually have toe up with something. Eventually. Nel already saw what Tristan had for hispetition performance, since Tristan used him as a stand-in for the audience. He guessed he''d have topose more songs in the future, anyway. *** 32 hours until the party. The assassin sat on a sidewalk near an apartment building, where Tristan Hayes was renting an apartment under his name. His grimy clothing made him look like just another hobo, one of the thousands living in Los Angeles. The assassin had been waiting for a while now. But this time, his information was definitely correct. Eventually, Hayes would appear. Careful assassination was all about patience. But why did Hayes rent an apartment if he didn''t appear here for thest few days? *** 28 hours until the party. "Kevin, do you really need to ask me how to deal with this? If these people are so stupid and bold, they don''t want to pay in full for our merchandise, then take the payment from their corpses! No, they aren''t such big fishes. Remember who we are now. We are the top sharks of the city. Or lions, as Mr. von would say. Yes. Yes. No, Tomas knows better than you how to break people''s knees. Mm. I expect you to be able to deal with the rest yourself." Tristan ended the call and sighed. First the distraction of food (and friendship), now criminal business. And it''s not like he could push it all forter. Kevin and Tomas mostly did fine, but the keyword was "mostly". But this was thest issue for tonight, Tristan hoped, as he resumed his hacking. *** 24 hours until the party. Tristan pressed the enter key and waited with bated breath for the page to load. After all the time and hurdles and distractions and unexpected problems, he found an exploit in TeamFlow''swork and used it to steal the login and password for Urban Mirage ount right from the TeamFlow''s password database. Now he was within an arm''s reach away from¡ª [A confirmation code was sent to your phone number. Please, enter it to login.] Tristan swore under his breath. ''I only have a day left until the party! What can I do faster¡ªhack the two-factor authentication or steal a phone from someone with admin ess?'' Chapter 97: One step ahead, one step behind 8 hours until the party. Tristan felt like he had been carrying bricks for 8 hours, not coding. Maybe stealing a phone would''ve been easier mentally, but much riskier. He''d have to find the location of a person with admin-level ess to the Urban Mirage Club office app, then get close enough to steal their phone¡­ This would either require breaking and entering their house, or trying to catch them between their home and their job. Where they traveled to by car. No, Tristan just coded more. It took a frustrating amount of time, but with his knowledge of TeamFlow''s vulnerabilities, Tristan rerouted the two-factor-authentication code to a burner phone number. A phone and SIM-card that he had to buy in haste, in the middle of the night. Finally, Tristan entered the administrator login and password, then the authentication code, and¡­ He was in! The Urban Mirage''s organization system lied in the palm of his hand. With his governing skill, Tristan easily navigated through its many tabs. Past kitchen and bar suppliers list, past the collection of HR files, Tristan reached the event nning page for the uing party. The guest list was there, thankfully. Big Rocket''s stage name and real name were here, as well as were those of a bunch of other celebrities and influencers. Besides them, there were names of people Tristan never heard of, but who likely were various industry specialists or personal friends of invited celebrities. Your next read awaits at m v|l-e''-NovelBin There were around two hundred names, separated by tiers of priority, with some personal notes such as "shellfish allergy". "Tristan Hayes" fitted nicely at the end of the list, with all the unimportant people. Although it''d be nice to make new useful acquaintances in a ce like that for Tristan Gemello, if someone recognized him and realized that no one actually invited him, Tristan could be in trouble. Besides, what he wanted to talk with Big Rocket about was not a showbiz matter. Tristan left the Urban Mirage Club''s system, carefully erased all the traces of him being there, and closed theptop. His brain was fried. His hacking skill rose by about fifteen points during thest two days. Tristan set theptop aside and stumbled toward his hotel bed. As soon as he fell on it, his eyes closed. He didn''t fall asleep, but the state of blissful not-thinking was very close to it. *** 5 hours until the party. Tristan jolted on his bed with a start. He didn''t technically sleep, but he really lost the sense of time. Now he had too little of it. ''Shit! Five hours¡­ I need to get party clothes to wear!'' Tristan had them, of course, but all his party outfits would stand out enough to be recognized by Nel, who helped Tristan buy them. Nel won''t be at the party, but there will be plenty of people making photos and videos. The chances of this were small, but experience with Pierce taught Tristan to be more careful. But of course, he couldn''t just leave. Instead, he stumbled into Derek in the hotel''s hall. "Mr. Hayes! I''m d you see you really weren''t sick. I have finally arranged a ce where you can properly rehearse in this city. But¡­ that''s not where you are heading in a hurry, right?" Tristan suppressed a sigh. "No. I have a personal matter to deal with. But that is great news, Mr. Derek." Derek narrowed his eyes, although his usual kind expression didn''t fall. "You aren''t going to do anything reckless, I hope. It''s easy to think that nothing can ever happen to you, but there are so many people to whom it does! At least¡­ take a pair of your security team with you. Just to not get mugged, at the very least." Tristan paused, then smiled. "Yeah, I will. Thank you, Mr. Derek. Don''t worry, I wille back before tomorrow morning if all goes well!" As soon as Tristan''s back turned to him, Derek let out an almost inaudible sigh. He was sure Tristan was about to do something unwise, and yet unable to stand in his way. Not only because of his boss''s insistence that Tristan Gemello is kept happy, but because Derek didn''t have so much will. His experience in reading people told him with 100% surety that to stand in Tristan''s way was akin to standing in front of an advancing road roller. Those who didn''t move away were either extremely brave or extremely stupid. The road roller would tten both. *** 2 hours before the party. "What if Gemello tells Derek that we aren''t actually escorting him?" Owen asked. He and Trey were two of the four subordinates Tristan took with him to Los Angeles, and now took with him to make sure Big Rocket didn''t run away even if it meant taking him by force. Their best quality was their absolute loyalty, and their second quality was a lot of street smarts and experience with gangster life. "He won''t." Owen nodded and didn''t ask further questions. Both he and Trey were dressed casually, hiding guns under their clothing. Tristan Hayes was dressed for a party, but modestly enough to not stun anyone with his charm without even trying. He was going to be subtle, after all. ''Maybe I should put more points into stealth for this. No, I''d rather keep them in reserve for now.'' "Let''s hope you will just waste your time standing near the back exit," Tristan told hispanions while hailing a taxi. "Now,e on. We have to start moving toward the party if we want to get through the traffic jams in time for its beginning." *** 1 hour before the party. "I understand. Yes. Thank you for not telling me that tomorrow." The assassin ended the call and stood from his ambush spot. It was going to be really annoying if he was going to bete to the meeting with his target again, but the assassin, who might or might not have been No Hope, had a good feeling about this. He hailed a taxi, and when the driver asked "Where to?", the assassin''s reply was, "The Urban Mirage". Chapter 98: Inside the Urban Mirage Club Half an hour after the party began. Urban Mirage Club was really a high-end ce. The entrance was guarded with red velvet ropes and muscled bouncers who were dressed up like genies with high ponytails and Arabic-themed clothing. A red carpet led inside the club itself. When the receptionist checked if Tristan''s name was on the guest list, his heart skipped a bit¡­ but he was let in without a second nce. The first thing he did inside was to explore the ce. The inner part of the Urban Mirage Club was also decorated in Arabic theme, but also very neon. It looked like an LSD-trip into a treasure trove of ddin. The massive main hall was decorated with gold and blue mood lighting, and several life-sized metal sculptures of dancing women acted like secondary disco balls. A dance floor, mostly empty now, stood on an elevated stage near a DJ booth, which was surrounded by LED screens showing abstract visuals in the beat of the music. The UV lights made waiters in white glow blue and appear as genie-like as the bouncers. Some guests also stuck to the club''s theme, while others didn''t care. Tristan was actually somewhat early to the party itself, despiteing half an hour after the opening time. A lot of the guests still weren''t here, and the main show program didn''t start. After exploring the premises, Tristan sat at a table, pretending to sip a drink and observing the guests. With his sneaking (stealth) skill, Tristan found the best seat to take¡ªone where he will be almost unnoticeable by others. Instead of giving out his usual stunningly charismatic air, Tristan''s current expression and posture made him less noticeable to other people. They saw him, but their gazes immediately moved past him to more interesting people. And there were a lot of more interesting people. Celebrities of the kind who won''t give Tristan Gemello another nce if they saw him on the street¡­ After another half an hour of waiting, Tristan saw him. Big Rocket finally came to the party and was going straight to the DJ booth, while the event host cheerfully announced him to the guests. "Wee to the Urban Mirage,dies and gentlemen! Say hi to the first DJ of today''s party, the famous BIG ROCKEEEEET! Now, who''s ready for some hip-hop beats to be a hip-hop beast?!" Somehow, the horrible pun made people cheer. Or maybe it was just Big Rocket himself. Rafael "Big Rocket" Vinueva was a tall, ck man with a hairstyle which unintentionally (because Tristan saw it on his earlier public photos) fit with the club''s theme¡ªa single long braid running through the middle of Big Rocket''s head, with the rest shaved off to show off his tattoos. And he wore as much gold jewelry as any typical rapper. "Yo, people of the night!" he greeted the crowd. "It''s time to get dancing into spaaaaace! The Big Rocket is gonna carry ya''all to the mooooooon!" The crowd cheered harder and people hurried to the dance floor as Big Rocket started the music. Tristan wasn''t a fan of hip-hop, but he had to admire the man''s skill as a DJ. The music was simply that good. Big Rocket''s own remixes were infectious¡ªjust hearing them made Tristan want to dance himself¡ªand the man improved them even more on the fly. Whenever the crowd seemed bored, Big Rocket had a fresh song, or a new trick to spice things up. At some point he even read freestyle rap for a bit, to the ecstatic shrieks of some people in the crowd. Tristan really wished he wasn''t at this party for a business. He wanted to be at this party as an actual invited guest. After half an hour of the intense dancing, the music went on a break again; the guests spread around to rest a little, and Big Rocket left the DJ booth. Tristan patiently watched from the shadows as Big Rocket mingled with his friends and fans, shook some hands, had a drink, and danced himself for a bit when the next DJ showed up. But eventually, he went toward the exit from the main hall¡ªand that''s when Tristan left his barely touched drink and followed him. Big Rocket went upstairs to the rooftop terrace. The ce was much quieter, with the music being only barely audible, and had much fewer people. Some guests lounged on couches or near the secondary bar, but this was clearly a ce to rx, shake off alcohol influence from yourself, and not bother other people. Despite this, Tristan sat next to Big Rocket at the bar, ordered himself another overpriced drink just to look less weird, and didn''t move away. As soon as the barman was distracted by another customer away from both of them, Tristan turned toward Big Rocket, who was nursing his own drink, with a smile. From the side, it looked like Tristan was just being friendly. "Hi, Mr. Rocket. I thought you''d be different from what I see now. More old-fashioned, square guy, you know." "Huh? Dude, what are you about? Don''t talk that drunk shit to me, man! I don''t know ya, and I''m ain''t here to shake hands with fans!" Tristan kept smiling. "The joke didn''tnd, eh? A square guy, because squares have four angles. Get it now? Four. Angles. Four¡­ angles¡­" With great satisfaction, Tristan watched how Big Rocket''s annoyed face froze, and the man became a shade paler before swiftly turning back to his drink. To give him credit, this was the extent of his reaction. "Who are you? What do you want?" Tristan added some hypnotism in his voice. "Tristan Hayes, at your service and d to meet you. For the rest¡ªwhy won''t we talk somewhere quieter? I bet you have ess to one of the private rooms of this ce. Don''t worry, I won''t bite." Big Rocket''s fingers clenched on his ss, but they were still shaking. He gulped the rest of it in one go and stood up. "Y-yeah. ''course. Let''s go." Chapter 99: A deal with the Devil There was a security guard standing in a hallway near the security doors, but from the look of him, he wouldn''t have moved an inch if someone started screaming inside. Tristan made sure to position himself in a way that made Big Rocket''s figure hide Tristan''s face from the guard. Inside the private room itself, everything was set for rxation: a mini-bar with drinks, a pair offy red leather couches, and a TV with a game console attached. Tristan also immediately sensed that there were no cameras in the room. Tristan would''ve been tempted to check the console out if he was there to rx. Instead, he just walked to a couch and sat in, rxed yet exuding an air of power like a boss would. Without showing it, Tristan looked around the room and Big Rocket again, making sure that there were no other recording devices. But unless the room was purposefully bugged beforehand, it was all clean. Big Rocket locked thetch on the door behind them and immediately pointed an using finger at Tristan and spat out words faster than a machine gun spat out bullets. "Who are you, really?! Who are you? Don''t tell me shit like that you are with ''them''¡ªyour face is way too white! Your face is whiter than my dear ma''s milk!" "I''m not with them. But you are." Tristan leaned his head on the couch''s cushions. "And now somebody else knows." The more rxed Tristan acted, the more terror filled Big Rocket''s mind. Tristan could read the panicked questions in the depth of the ck man''s eyes: ''Did this mane to kill me? To ckmail me? What kind of dirt does he have? What kind of people does he represent?'' "Don''t sit with that smug face, asshole!" Big Rocket snapped, pping himself on the thigh. He began pacing around the room like a cornered animal. "Don''t y around, answer the damn questions! People like ya are all stretching things out like pulling some poor cat''s tail!" ''That man gets really loud and chatty when scared¡­ I shouldn''t overdo it with fear, or he might shout my ears off.'' "Very well. It''s simple. I know you carry drugs over the border for Cuatro Angulos. What I want is to tell you how, how much, where from, and why. In exchange for my silence, of course." Tristan made a meaningful pause. "I''m not your enemy, Rafael¡ªI''m only an enemy of Angulos. But I doubt you are a friend of theirs yourself." A guess, but a good guess. And using Big Rocket''s real name made it hit harder. Big Rocket paused mid-step. There was a pause. Then¡ªanother explosion. "You can''t be real! I can''t! No, nay, never! You came to kill me, you can kill me with a gun, don''t have to make me kill myself with words!" ''Hm. This is strange. The man is scared, but my system didn''t acknowledge that at all. I guess I can scare him more¡ªbut that doesn''t feel like the right approach. Instead of giving me the information, Big Rocket might just do something stupid like calling the police on me¡­ No, let''s switch the tactics.'' With that thought, Tristan straightened up and smiled. Now, instead of power and terror, he was also projecting an image of benevolence, one that he strengthened with a softer tone of his hypnotizing voice. "Rafael, there''s really no need for you to panic. To be afraid at all, really. This meeting¡ªnobody will know about it. Whatever is your problem, I can help you deal with it. A favor for a favor¡ªthat''s only fair." The soothing tone made Big Rocket''s movements and words slow down. "Why would I believe you, Hayes? Ya know about me, I don''t know shit about you. Even if ya is an enemy of my enemy, that doesn''t mean we''re friends!" Tristan smiled wider. "So you admit they are an enemy. Do Angulos ckmail you somehow?" he guessed, and from the way Big Rocket twitched, knew immediately that he was right. "I guess the fact alone that you work for them is bad enough. But they had to pull you in first somehow. Is there something more serious? A dark past, or maybe¡ª" "Enough! Shut your fucking mouth! I ain''t tellin ya this shit so you could pull me around the same way they do!" Tristan lowered his eyes in a rare show of genuine remorse. He got so caught in his observations that went against his own strategy. This was a mistake Tristan nned to learn from. He was still going to use the information, though. "I apologize. But you aren''t the only person harmed by this cartel. The organization I belong to is their enemy. We fought in the past, and will definitely fight again in the future," Tristan said solemnly. He didn''t say it outright, but from the tone of his voice, one could easily imagine that he might''ve lost a lot in that war. And though Big Rocket was tense, this made him just a slightest bit sympathetic. Then Tristan smirked, and the solemn moment was gone. "If my organization can destroy their drug business, it will be like cutting off their boss''s balls. And if the cartel is destroyed, you can be free, too, Rafael." Big Rocket, his real name Rafael, swallowed anxiously. The man stood on a precipice of an abyss, where Tristan''s immense charisma pulled him. But he didn''t know if anyone would catch him down below. But behind Rafael were familiar fears, and he chose to bet on the abyss. [Ding!] [You have earned a modicum of trust of a person of very high status. Reward: your PP increased by 1000!] "Your organization must be big for you to im that you can do something like this, Hayes. And to get you an invitation to this party." Tristan''s smirk widened, both from the system notification and from Rafael''s words. He noticed that Rafael''s Spanish ent got less pronounced when he was calmer. "It''s big enough, and will be bigger." "I will tell you what I can, then. But I have no proof!" "That''s alright, I''m not a legal court. As long as your words are true, say them." And Rafael did so. Chapter 100: The hitman "That story began way back when I was a tiny stupid kid. Though¡­ Alright, I will tell you just the gist of it." Rafael walked to the couch opposite of Tristan''s and flopped down on it, then sat with his head propped on his hand. "I grew up in a poor ce, and there was a lot of cartel business around, always recruiting people, always doing shady stuff. Luckily, I got opportunities to escape all that shit. Had talent, got fame, a decent contract¡ªthe works. Even got a U.S. passport eventually." Tristan nodded. "And you have dual citizenship now." "Yes, because I still have family there! And I can''t bring them all here." Rafael mmed his fists on his knees. "God dammit, I tried! But even with the fame I got, I can''t bring them all! My granny won''te even if she wanted to¡ªshe''d rather die than leave the house her husband built!" Tristan understood immediately, but still listened as Rafael ranted on. "Those fucking bastards! As soon as I hit it big, Angulos got their ws into my family and threatened to harm them if I didn''t do what they wanted! I can''t do more against them than I can piss against the wind! The police, thew¡ªthey all are worthless. Hell, if someone can do shit to help, it has to be someone like you!" Tristan made an appropriately sympathetic face. "You must have an amazing family." Rafael chuckled and showed a strained but genuine grin. "Of course. They are the best, all of them. Americans can''t even imagine what kind of family people like I have. We might''ve been poor before I hit it big, but we all helped each other out: the siblings, the uncles and aunties, the cousins¡­ I wish I could visit them without Angulos." ''I really don''t get this guy. One brother is already too much¡­ Well, at least his motivations are easy to understand.'' "And what about the things Angulos made you do?" Rafael pursed his lips. "You can''t let them know I told you. Throw me under the bus, fine¡ªbut if my family is implicated!¡ª" Tristan had been hypnotizing Rafael for the most of this conversation, but now he thered his charisma on his words exceptionally thickly. "I understand, but my organization still needs information to use against Angulos. Knowledge is power, and power is needed to win wars." "They got me smuggling stuff, mostly. Sometimes people¡­ Not that I know much about the details. If I tell you what I know, it probably won''t be all that important, anyway." Rafael mentioned a few ces and a few names rted to the smugglers, although Tristan felt like they wouldn''t be helpful¡ªCuatro Angulos was careful to not give Rafael dangerous information. Nevertheless, when Rafael finished, Tristan felt like he had achieved great sess. Tristan stood up and smiled at the other man. "Thank you for your help, Rafael. Onest thing¡­ I need your personal number." Rafael smirked. "I thought that someone of your kind would already have it. But sure, why not? I''m on the gallows already, might as well tighten the rope." "What was the point of bothering to find it if I can just ask now?" Tristan rebutted. Rafael grinned and told him the number which Tristan put into his phone. "Someone I trust will contact you, someone talking with whom will cause no suspicion from Angulos or anyone else," Tristan said. "He will ry information between you and my organization. And be sure¡ªwe will take care of your family. But your help might be required, and that''s why I need to stay in touch." Tristan already decided that although it was going to be incredibly difficult, he was going to do his best here. If he helped Rafael, he was going to win his full trust. That was going to be worth a ton of points and give Tristan a tall step stool to climb into the showbiz industry. And the person who was going to contact Rafael, of course, was going to be Tristan''s own second identity. "Have a good time at the rest of the party," Tristan said as goodbye and left the room. *** After sneaking through the hallway past the irresponsible security guard, Tristan re-emerged in the main hall, feeling light on his feet. His task waspleted sessfully and without a hitch! The results weren''t so bad, too, even if the information Rafael could give Tristan immediately was mostly useless. He messaged his subordinates that the task ended sessfully and there was no need to intercept Big Rocket anymore, but they should stay around for now, just in case. ''Actually drinking something tonight will be a wonderful end to the night, and won''t harm me. I''m going to leave in a taxi, anyway. I can almost feel sorry for the guys who are standing outside, in the wind, waiting for me to return¡­'' But that made Tristan''s desire to have a drink for the road even stronger. With that reasoning, Tristan went to the bar. *** The assassin ced a tray full of snacks at another table full of famous bitchy and drunk people and ran off before they could order him around even more. He was sick of being here. But he was lucky to be here at all! He had to go as low as buying a set of clothing simr to the uniform of local waiters, sneak around to the back entrance, and walk in together when the rush among the staff reached its peak. Everybody was so busy keeping up with orders and organization of everything that the assassin easily swiped a waiter''s badge. Then he was taken in as one of their own¡­ And sent doing menial tasks! At least Tristan Hayes was there, even if the assassin only got glimpses of him before he was shouted at and told to do more menial tasks. But now the assassin saw his chance. Hayes, all on his own, ordering a drink in the bar. The assassin who might have been, or might have been not, the real No Hope, abandoned his duties as a definitely fake waiter and made his move. Chapter 101: Poison! Tristan put some cash on the table. "A shot of whiskey, please." Whiskey usually wasn''t Tristan''s drink of choice, but he didn''t want to stay at the bar for a long while, drinking some big cocktail. Just a shot for the road. While the barman took the money and poured Tristan his drink, he mused about his ns. ''Rafael has contacts with people deeper in Cuatro Angulos. I can use him to send them the Beholder¡­'' A shot ss of whiskey was ced in front of Tristan. He nodded in thanks to the barman, then raised the ss and downed the whiskey in one go. As soon as the burning liquid touched Tristan''s tongue, he knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong! The whiskey tasted way too bitter to be normal. Perhaps that taste could''ve belonged to the worst kind of whiskey, but not to something being sold in a high-end nightclub like the Urban Mirage! ''It must be poison!'' Adrenaline went through Tristan''s body and the time slowed down to a crawl. Once again, Tristan was saved by his ''Bullet Time'' talent. However, by this point, he already half-swallowed the whiskey. The remains that burned on his tongue made Tristan even more sure that his observation was true: someone poisoned his drink. ''I have to spit it out before bullet time ends!'' Explore more at m,v l''e-NovelBin On instinct, Tristan clenched muscles in his throat, preventing most of the liquid from going further. But it wasn''t enough¡ªever so slowly, Tristan reached out and clenched his own neck hard. The time resumed with normal speed and Tristan half-spat, half-vomited all the whiskey he just drank right on the bar counter. While the nearby waiters and guests gasped in shock, Tristan coughed hard, spitting out as much of the poisoned drink as he could. His pants and shirt were sttered with liquid now, but he ignored it as he straightened up and caught his breath. ''I think I didn''t swallow more than a few drops in the end.'' Despite this, Tristan didn''t feel relief. There was a feeling of slight nausea in his stomach instead, and he didn''t know if it was from the poison or from the sudden attack. ''I didn''t notice a single thing! Whoever did this was a real pro at blending with the crowd¡ªhe had to n this all under my nose. No one was paying me more than a fleeting nce!'' Now that changed, of course. A dozen people were all watching Tristan from all directions. His thoughts flew rapidly. ''Someone definitely tried to kill me, and I''m in criminal identity right now. So, most likely Angulos people. Did they already find out that I came to talk with Rafael? No, that''s impossible! Unless Angulos put one of their people to watch Rafael closely, which is something I''d definitely do¡­'' "Mister, is everything alright?" a barman asked with concern. "Do you need medical help?" Tristan''s eyes zeroed on him, then flew around. ''Whoever tried to kill me must have been nearby to be able to tamper with the drink. I can still catch them! If they know I came here for Rafael, I can''t let them get away. Actually¡­ I can''t let them get away even if they don''t know! As if I will let someone try to kill me and leave without a punishment!'' The problem was¡­ Tristan had no idea who that assassin was. A single nce showed seven people who were close enough to the bar. The barman, two waiters, and five guests. All of them looked equally shocked, concerned, or disgusted with what had just happened. The assassin, whoever it was, had been a superb actor. But when Tristan''s skills weren''t enough¡­ ''I just need more skills. Status!'' With extreme agility, Tristan tapped on invisible to anyone but him buttons. [Ding!] [Observation skill increased from 1426 to 2076.] Then Tristan shot to his feet and pointed his finger at the barman. "My drink was poisoned! You tried to poison me!" The barman recoiled with wide eyes. "What? Mister, I didn''t¡ªif you think someone spiked your drink, I will call security, but I didn''t do it!" Tristan didn''t listen to the man''s prattling. Although he was looking at the barman, from the corner of his eye, he was watching people around him with extreme attention. Judging them down to thest twitch of their muscles, Tristan observed their reaction. rm, shock, even excitement for a juicy scandal¡ªand a sh of relief swiftly hidden under concern. Tristan looked at the person whose acting skills were the smallest bit too slow and became absolutely sure that this man was the assassin. First, his uniform, although almost identical white blouse and ck pants to that of the other waiters, had slight differences in the cut. Second, when their eyes met, the man showed fear. But otherwise, he was someone utterly ordinary. The man''s face was so boring, people would forget it a minute after they didn''t look at him. A perfect face for a sneaky killer. Tristan showed him his most murderous grin and his deadliest re. "It''s you." The assassin was too far to hear Tristan''s quiet words through the din of the club, but he understood. The man paled and slipped away from Tristan, moving through the crowd as fast as he could without attracting attention. "Forget it!" Tristan shouted to the barman and hurried after the assassin before he lost him in the crowd. The fake waiter did his best to blend in, but Tristan stayed locked on to his white blouse. Then the assassin suddenly pushed an actual waiter with a full tray into a group of tipsy people that stood in Tristan''s way. People immediately began screaming at each other and the waiter and a bouncer hurried toward them to stop a fight from starting. While Tristan looked for a way around themotion, the assassin disappeared, this time entirely. However, Tristan didn''t lose his spirits and didn''t stop walking. Instead, he smiled like a cat who knows the mouse can''t escape. Chapter 102: Dealing with the poisoner The assassin exhaled with relief when he stepped out from the back entrance of the Urban Mirage Club. This was close, but he shook Hayes off. Now he could try to kill him again, find a better method, a better n¡­ A man in dark clothing who stepped in front of the assassin made him pause. The assassin''s experienced gaze spotted an outline of a gun under the man''s jacket. Jolting like a spooked rabbit, the assassin turned in another direction and ran¡ªonly to stop when another man stepped forward to block his retreat. ''Shit.'' *** As soon as Tristan stepped outside the club, there was a call on his phone. He picked it up. "The bastard tried to run, but we got him, boss! Like you warned us, he left from the back exit!" "Got it. Keep him down and move out of sight. Avoid cameras, there''s a ton of them." Tristan could feel the cold pressure of their recordings on his skin as he walked from the entrance of the club toward the back side of it. That the assassin was alone and didn''t know about Tristan''s guards made Tristan smile wider. It meant this could''ve been just a lone mercenary again. Otherwise, Tristan''s n to send his people to intercept the assassin from the back exit, while Tristan blocked the main entrance, wouldn''t have worked so well. When Tristan reached his men, they had found a cover in an alleyway behind a dumpster. The ce stank, aggravating Tristan''s nausea, but there was no one looking in that direction, and the club was a good hundred meters away. Trey was holding the pale and sweating assassin lying on his stomach and pinned to the dirty ground, while Owen patted his pockets and pulled things out. At the sight of Tristan, the assassin whined through his own tie that was used as a makeshift gag. Tristan smiled at the sight. "Great work, guys. You have him all stuffed and ready to be cooked like a pig." Owen and Trey preened at the praise. "Thanks, boss! He tried to run as soon as he saw us, but we got him cornered. He barely could throw a punch!" Tristan nodded, approaching the captive and trying to breathe through his mouth. "You acted like a very skillful assassin before, but as soon as you were found, you ran away like aplete coward. Worse than a chicken, worse than a worm. I guess this exins your tactics. They can''t fight you if they die before they know you are even here¡­ Too bad you missed your shot this time!" Tristan delivered a vicious kick to the side of the assassin''s stomach. The man''s eyes teared up and bulged from pain, but the gag muffled his scream. "Tie him up and get me a car. We will interrogate him somewhere more private." Tristan had to know how much information the assassin had, and how much of it he shared. [Ding!] [You have scared a person of high skill. Reward: your PP increased by 200.] Tristan smirked in anticipation. Owen nodded and began pulling the assassin''s arms together with his own jacket, then tied his legs with the man''s belt. Then he and Trey stood up, leaving the assassin wiggle on the ground like a worm. Tristan stopped that with another kick. "Quiet, you. Go, I will watch over him." *** Hotwiring cars was something many gangsters knew how to do. Not Tristan, though. He suspected it was somewhere in the lockpicking skill, which he never got to use, and at the moment, didn''t have the points for. But it only took half an hour for Owen and Trey to return with a run-down car, the trunk of which was big enough for a body. Like that, they drove to the apartment of Tristan''s subordinates, where Trey helped Tristan get the man the apartment inside, while Owen stayed down in the car to guard the premises. Other two of Tristan''s subordinates weren''t here, instead sleeping in the hotel and acting as normal members of security traveling with Tristan Gemello. "Maybe it''d be better to call the others, boss," Trey suggested when they hauled the wriggling captive to the bathroom. "Stop jerking around, or I will kick your teeth out!" The captive quietened. "Let them be¡ªwe can deal with this ourselves. Just help me tie him up properly." Soon enough, the man was tied up to a chair in the bathroom with his hands behind his back. Judging by the cold sweat on the assassin''s face, he knew it was easiest to clean the blood from a tile floor. "If you scream, this knife goes right into your eye," Tristan threatened in a dark and hypnotizing voice. The knife in his hand went dangerously close to the assassin''s wide open right eye. "Do you understand?" Behind Tristan, Trey leaned on a wall and cracked his knuckles menacingly. The assassin made a shaking nod, and Tristan used the knife to cut him free of the gag. While he spat out the taste of cloth from his mouth, Tristan stood up and took a step back. "What''s your name?" "David Reed. P-please, you got the wrong man! I didn''t do anything!" Tristan scoffed. "And that knife my subordinates found under your clothing was here for self-defense, huh? If you got rid of the poison, you should''ve thrown that out, too. Besides¡­" Tristan scowled viciously and suddenly stabbed his knife in the chair right between the prisoner''s legs¡ªso close that the de made a shallow cut on the inner thigh. "You didn''t even tell us your real name!" [Ding!] [Torture skill increased by 1. Reward: your PP increased by 10.] ''Huh, I almost forgot I had this skill.'' "Please! Please, I''m not lying! This is true!" If it was, Tristan wouldn''t have known¡ªthe man didn''t have any ID on him. But his observation skill was telling him that the prisoner''s fear was ringing just a bit false. He was scared, but acted terrified. Acted very well, but¡­ Tristan clicked his tongue. "Trey, tenderize this lying chicken for me." Chapter 103: The end of hope While Trey put a better gag in the assassin''s mouth and beat him ck and blue in the bathroom, Tristan went to the living room to check out the phone found in the man''s things. It was a model with buttons and minimum of functions, so Tristan wasn''t hoping for much. However, it was still locked with a password, so there had to be something. Being an expert hacker thanks to his system, Tristan knew from a single nce how to bypass the password. He just looked up the master-code for that model of phones, and in ten minutes, scrolled through the history of the assassin''s calls. All of his contacts were named something like "Useful guy" or "always asks for money". There weren''t many contacts in the first ce, and no text messages in the archive. The history showed a few recent calls, but none that happened while Tristan was in the Urban Mirage Club. This was obviously a burner phone. Disappointed, Tristan kept it in his pocket in case someone called, and returned to his prisoner. Trey did a splendid job. The prisoner''s face barely had any traces, but by the way he held himself and breathed carefully, Trey must''ve left nasty bruises all over his torso. Just when Tristan entered, Trey was delivering a heavy kick to the man''s ankle. There was a crunch of something, and the assassin shrieked and sobbed into the gag, ignoring even Tristan''s appearance. Trey chuckled at the sight and raised his arm for another blow. "Enough for now," Tristan said to Trey. The thug paused, then lowered his fist. "Sure, boss." Tristan strolled up to the prisoner, who looked up at him with a silent plea in hopeful and fearful eyes. He looked utterly pathetic and pitiful at the moment. Perhaps if there was someone else in Tristan''s ce, someone with less confidence, he''d feel doubt. He''d wonder if he really caught a wrong person¡­ But Tristan knew he wasn''t wrong. Even if he was¡­ he couldn''t let himself think this way until he went through the entire interrogation. "Are you ready to talk truthfully now?" The prisoner nodded rapidly. "Then let''s try again." Tristan removed the gag¡ªa rag for wiping tables, from the look of it¡ªand threw it into the sink. The prisoner coughed, wincing at every breath. "What''s your name?" "It''s¡­" he coughed more. "Le¡­ jo¡­ son¡­" The words were so jumbled, Tristan could barely catch anything the prisoner said. "I can''t hear you! Speak louder!" The prisoner pulled more breath in his chest, only to cough again, spitting some blood on his chin. Tristan turned to frown at Trey. ''Did he give this guy a lung puncture? I don''t want him to die before he spills his guts!'' Trey''s eyes widened in silent rm. "The bastard is just being a pussy!" he swore. "I gave him some cracks, tops!" With a huff, Tristan turned to the prisoner. "Well? Cough it up!" "Le¡­ s¡­ on¡­" Tristan leaned closer, irritated with the prisoner''s inability, when he saw a movement in the bathroom''s mirror. A sh of metal behind the prisoner''s back. If not for the mirror, it would''ve stayedpletely hidden from Tristan. ''He has a weapon!'' With a sudden surge of speed, the assassin freed his arms from the rope and aimed a knuckle-sized de at Tristan''s throat. The time slowed down. Tristan had an opportunity to examine the assassin''s knife up close. It was barely bigger than a razor de¡ªthe assassin could have hidden it between his fingers easily enough. He must''ve used it to cut the rope while he was being beaten up. Now that de was mere inches from Tristan''s neck. If not for the ''Bullet Time'', there''d be no way Tristan reacted to it in time. This just made Tristan grin inwardly. ''A wrong person, my ass. As if!'' He moved away and raised his own arm to catch the assassin''s as the time regained its normal speed. In a sh, Tristan captured and broke the man''s wrist. The hidden de fell to the floor while the assassin screamed in pain. The scream was cut short when Tristan elbowed him in the face. This all happened so quickly, that Trey only began reaching out to stop the assassin! Scowling, Tristan nced at his subordinate. "Tsk. I''m going to talk with you about how you missed your prisoner cutting ropes while you beat him upter, Trey." Trey paled and nodded anxiously, moving back to the wall. Now he was watching the prisoner like a hawk. Tristan turned back to the prisoner, and when he felt the man going limp in his hold, he let him go and looked into his eyes. Now¡­ Now the terror in them was 100% genuine. Tristan didn''t just break the assassin''s arm, he broke hisst hope. [Ding!] [You have utterly terrified and brought to despair a person of high skill. Reward: your PP increased by 2000!] A grin appeared on Tristan''s face. "Last try, dipshit. Do it well, and I will consider letting you live after this. What''s your name?" "Le¡­ Lewis Johnson. R-really, sir!" "Who sent you to kill me?" "I¡­ I don''t know. Some rich guy! I met him online. I only meet clients online." "Really? Why?" The man''s eyes suddenly shed with admiration. "That''s what No Hope does. Or, well, No Hopes. I''m one of them!" "Huh. Who''s No Hope?" The next several minutes were spent on a lecture about incredible feats of a legendary assassin, whom Lewis was clearly a fanboy of. Or, more like a club member, because¡ª "I don''t think THE No Hope actually exists. I think they are just an urban legend bunch of pros made¡ªbut I liked to be one of them. And it got people to pay me more." Tristan tsked. "An anonymous club of assassins¡­ The world is truly a strange ce. How did you know I will be in the Urban Mirage?" "One of the guys I pay for info found you on the guest list, sir." Tristan narrowed his eyes. "Do you know why I was in the club?" Chapter 104 : Taking revenge with a virus "No! I had no idea. I was just following you!" Tristan hummed, checking Lewis''s expression for any hint of the lie. All he saw was a genuine desire to say anything and sell anyone to be left alive. And lots of pain, too¡ªLewis was cradling his broken arm and biting his lip raw. "How did you contact your employer? You had to tell him somehow that you''ve done the deed, right?" "Through an anonymous messenger app. He asked for pictures of your corpse, and then he''d pay me in crypto." "Good. Very good." Tristan smiled. "Maybe in an hour you will be free to go home. Just do one simple thing for me." "W-what is it? I can do it¡­ if it''s not too dangerous¡­" "It''s very simple. Trey, keep watch over this chicken¡ªbetter than you didst time. And¡­ Wrap his broken arm, I suppose. What I want him to do is easier done with arms." "Yes, boss. Heard that, asshat? He said nothing about your legs, so you better not even breathe at me wrong!" Lewis whimpered pathetically as Tristan left the bathroom. To his annoyance, he left hisptop at the hotel, so he had to do what he nned via his smartphone. Thankfully, he had a backup of the Beholder virus saved in a cloud storage. Using his smartphone, Tristan googled a random image of a dead body that had a simr haircut to him but didn''t show the face closely. The image was from some movie, and anyone could tell after looking at it not in a preview that it wasn''t Tristan, but that was fine. Tristan infected the image with the Beholder and returned to Lewis. Infecting the image took Tristan almost half an hour (typing and coding from a phone was much less convenient), so Trey had time to put a simple bandage and splint over the terrified assassin''s hand. "Lewis, there wasn''t a device you could have contacted your employer from. You have something else in another ce, right?" "Y-yeah, I left my main smartphone at the motel." Tristan raised his brows. "You aren''t afraid it might get stolen." Lewis shrugged, wincing from the pain. "Oh, I actually hid it in the room. Even if someone robbed it, they won''t find it unless they search really hard. I always do this." "Huh. Anyway, you are bringing me to your ce. Trey, clean up here and think about your mistakes." Although Tristan didn''t say anything more threatening, didn''t even suggest a harsh punishment, the tone of voice he used sent chills down the spines of Trey and Lewis. "I''m sorry, boss. I will be more careful in the future!" Tristan hummed, knowing that for the next week at least, Trey will be sent to do the simplest, least paid, and routine tasks¡ªto really learn his lesson. *** Owen was still waiting for them below with the stolen car. When Tristan appeared next to the assassin, he looked surprised. Tristan was holding Lewis by the elbow of his healthy arm¡ªsupporting him and making sure he didn''t run away. "Give the address, Lewis. And wipe your face while we are driving. Owen, bring us where this guy says." "Got it, boss." The motel wasn''t too far. It was a small, cheap ce, and thiste in the day¡ªpast midnight, actually¡ªthere wasn''t even anyone at the registration deck. Tristan walked Lewis through the blind zone of the lone camera in the building lobby and into his room. There, Lewis pulled his phone out where it hid behind the toilet cistern. In a short while, he sent the message to his employer, dering that Hayes was dead and attaching a photograph of his body as proof. A photograph infected with a virus. And in order to look at it, Lewis''s employer will have to open the file and let the Beholder into hisputer or phone. Tristan grinned. If this worked out, he would have a backdoor directly into the deepest secrets of Cuatro Angulos! Lewis looked up at him with hope. "So¡­ Can I go now, sir?" Tristan raised his eyebrows. "And what will you do after that?" "I will never trouble you again! If someone puts a hit on you, I will even tell you that you are in danger! I don''t want to be your enemy, sir, I don''t want to die!" After a careful consideration, Tristan believed this plea was genuine. This was a good thing about enemy contractors. They had no loyalty for their employer, but had a healthy amount of self-preservation. The first guy Tristan had to deal with also never bothered him since then. "Well, I promised. Go. Or stay, since this is your motel room," Tristan waved his hand magnanimously. "This is your second chance. There will be no third one." *** Next day, an office in the Los Angeles Police Department. "Captain, our division was sent this anonymous letter¡­ I feel like we should do something about it. It doesn''t feel like a prank¡ªwhoever sent it knows too many details. I already ran it through the forensics just in case, but it''s clear of any hints." The lieutenant passed a simple white envelope to his superior, who immediately opened it and pulled a printout from the inside. He swiftly read it, and the farther the police captain reached, the more serious his expression became. "Thank you for bringing this to me. If even a half of what this letter says is true, we can have a serious gang problem in our city, unless we do something." "Yes, sir, I thought that as well. But¡­ doesn''t it feel suspicious that someone sent so much information about this situation anonymously?" "Of course it does, Lieutenant! Because it is. Either we have an unbelievably good Samaritan in one of these gangs, or some gangster wants to get rid of a rival with our hands. But they were fools if they thought LAPD is just a dog that will chase blindly after every piece of bait! These arrogant gangsters¡ªwe will catch them all!" Chapter 105 : Police trouble Next day. It was almost like yesterday evening never happened. Tristan was standing in a rented practice room, repeating the notes of his unreleased song with more vigor than he ever showed for thest week. The recent victory over his attacker and, in some respect, Cuatro Angulos, tasted sweet on his mouth, and Tristan poured that feeling into his music. It, and the Pop-star Points he got. Last night, he had spent all his 3560 PP to increase his appearance to 250, music theory skill to 1280, guitar skill to 2095, acting to 1315, singing to 1857, and stage presence to 1223. Spending all those points at once made Tristan feel especially fresh and energized. He looked extra handsome today, too, with every pore on his skin exuding an air of youthful appeal. Tristan''s heart danced on the guitar''s strings, and it was a dance more powerful than a siren''s song. Even though today Tristan was only practicing the mostplex steps of his melody, Derek, who was watching him from the corner of the practice hall, was utterly enchanted. The man''s fingers twitched in the rhythm of the guitar riffs, and if Tristan was ying and singing in full, Derek would''ve been definitelypelled to bob his head or even dance. Ten minutes flew by in a blink of an eye, and Tristan finally took a break when he saw his guitar skill increasing by another point. Tristan let the guitar hang from its belt and flexed his fingers, looking at his manager curiously. "Did you need something, Mr. Derek, or were you just curious? You don''t usually watch the practice sessions." Derek smiled sheepishly. "I know a lot about music, naturally, but I''m not a coach¡­ And you definitely don''t need one, Mr. Gemello. It looks like your personal matters have been resolved in the best way for you to y like¡­ like this. I have no words, honestly." Tristan grinned at him. "Yeah, I don''t even doubt that I can win the Californian Young Star contest with this. Unless my opponents really have trump cards in their pockets, neither of them will give me trouble. At least in terms of music alone. I''m more worried whether the record of the performance will go on American TV." The amount of arrogance was staggering, but also entirely founded. Tristan''s skill just grew that quickly! Derek choked on his breath, taken aback by that statement, but even he couldn''t deny it. He and Tristan both knew the levels of eachpetitor involved. "This isn''t about music alone, though, Mr. Gemello. Sadly, I''ve seen many talented people fail because theycked something, sometimes entirely arbitrary. Or because someone else had it." Tristan nodded seriously. "I know." "That''s why I came to your practice, by the way. Besides curiosity, of course. I heard rumors from other people in the industry about the contest¡ªthat they are going to ''spice things up'' this year for the sake of TV ratings. Make it less about music and more something like one of those action reality shows. With obstacles and jumping sharks." Derek frowned as he said this. Tristan hummed. "Well, I have nothing against ratings. But sharks, really?" "No¡­ But be ready for anything, even if it wasn''t in the rules." He chuckled. "Maybe even for the sharks." Tristan smiled. He thought he could deal with the sharks without problems, too. That''s why he also had a criminal career, after all. *** That noon, Tristan got a message in the middle of his post-lunch break. [Ding!] [You have pped the face of an extremely powerful person. Reward: your PP increased by 1500!] When Tristan checked hisptop a short whileter, there was a newputer infected with the Beholder. In the text extracted by the trojan, Tristan found some amusing messages. [What''s the meaning of this? This isn''t Hayes''s corpse. Are you really trying to trick me like that? Did you really hope I was going to send you money? This is a shot from a movie!] [And you even called yourself by the legendary name of No Hope! If you thought I won''t find you and won''t retaliate, you were wrong.] [Pathetic.] Tristan guessed Lewis didn''t reply and possibly blocked his employer entirely. Despite the person''s threats, Tristan was positive Lewis will go without punishment. When Tristan watched him send the bait message, he saw all the methods of electronic protection Lewis used, and there was enough that he wouldn''t be found just from a chat. And from the other information the Beholder brought to Tristan, he knew doubtlessly that he infected aputer of the boss of Cuatro Angulos himself! Now he only had to wait and gather information quietly until he found the secrets necessary to cause the man''s downfall. ''It will be minus one enemy and plus all the resources he had.'' However, Tristan''s peace had been interrupted by a text message that came to his Hayes''s phone. It was from Sam, one of his four thugs. Since yesterday, Trey and Owen were busy, today they "worked" under Derek, while Sam and thest thug, Cutout, actually worked in the city. Previously, Tristan extracted some good leads on the local gang leaders, specifically those who had ess to the docks. They had to pass a message from Tristan and organize a meeting with someone as high up as they could. Somewhat risky, but notplicated. Worst-case scenario¡ªTristan''s people will be chased away. That''s why Tristan was shocked to read the message. [pigs trd get us. car chse. mvng to sc za] First, Tristan had to trante the message in his head. ''Police tried to get us. Started a car chase. We are moving to the South Coast (probably?) za.'' Why did this happen? The police had nothing (immediately) on Tristan''s people. They had no grounds for arrest! If they went to prison in the past, that was in the past. Whatever the reason, Tristan had to do something! Abandoning hisptop, he hurried out of the room and downstairs of the hotel¡ªand stopped in his tracks when he saw a pair of cops approaching the registration desk. Chapter 106: A new face? An old face? Reacting quickly, Tristan stepped back into the hallway and strained his ears to listen to the police officers'' words. They were asking the receptionist about two people who stayed there¡­ Trey and Owen, using the full¡ªand fake!¡ªnames under which they were registered in the hotel and in the GTG agency as security guards. ''What? Them, too?'' Tristan bit his lip. A part of him wanted to escape immediately, although his current identity was not attached to anything criminal¡­ directly. He began thinking that keeping criminals so close to himself, even if he could deny in court that ever knew that they were criminals, was too risky. "Excuse me, sirs, but I can''t give personal information about the hotel''s visitors without a search or an arrest warrant. There are high-profile people who stay in this hotel asionally. You can''t just ask for their whereabouts." Tristan smirked at the receptionist''s practiced rebuttal. He was also d to hear it, because it meant the officers didn''t have a warrant. No matter the reason they went for his subordinates, they probably didn''t have the evidence to get a warrant. It was reassuring. Tristan straightened his shoulders and marched toward the registration deck like he just heard themotion. "What''s going on? Did I just hear POLICE asking about MY security guards?" he raised his brows and sent his coldest gaze at the pair of officers. His hypnotic voice drilled into their heads. "I hope you have a good reason for this." Discover more content at m,v l''e-NovelBin The officers stepped back, shocked by Tristan''s fearsomeness like someone poured a bucket of ice water over their heads. "I¡­ Um¡­" The officer coughed, then pushed his chest up and looked at Tristan down his nose. "We got information that these people might be here under false pretenses and using false documents! If you are their boss, mister, I ask you to tell them to appear at the police station!" Tristan huffed. "I won''t do any such thing. Leave ande with something more than empty usations, officers. And if I find that you keep bothering anyone else here after this, I WILL make an officialint." [Ding!] [You have scared 2 people of above average skill. Reward: your PP increased by 40.] With these words, Tristan cut the officers down with another re and walked away with thest word. He was sure that the annoyed receptionist would be able to deal with the rest herself. The officers, although they both were brave enough people to not crumble immediately, still only gathered their wits long after Tristan walked out of the building. When they looked back at the receptionist, she gave them a service smile that would''ve fit a shark. "Do you want to rent a room, officers?" "No¡­ Alright, partner. We will¡­ we will get themter, yeah." *** Outside the building, Tristan warned his resting subordinates with a text message and hurried to his car. Not knowing what to expect, but hoping that he wasn''t going to bete, he drove at high speeds toward the point in the text Cutout had sent him earlier. Tristan was halfway there when he got another message. When he had to stop at a red light, Tristan checked its contents. This time, Cutout wrote much more legibly. [pigs lost us. some chick helped. we are at rose av 4.y low/go back?] Tristan didn''t have the time to reply until the red light changed to green, and he wasn''t going to look at the phone while driving. Wondering what Cutout meant, Tristan just drove toward the address. He didn''t have the opportunity to read the next few messages at all. The destination wasn''t far, at least. On his way there, Tristan saw a pair of police cars driving down the block, seemingly aimless. In ten minutes, Tristan stopped near a small mid-tier restaurant named ''Grill Bill''. through the windows, he saw that there were very few people inside, and neither were his subordinates. This was all strange. Originally, Tristan thought to approach the police osting Cutout and Same in his Gemello identity, the same way he did before. However, now he has changed his mind. Tristan drove to a parking lot nearby and parked. When he felt not a single gaze or camera on himself, he took his special earring from its ce on a thin chain around his neck, and put it in his ear. Although ''rk Kent Effect'' talent didn''t feel like anything to him, a check of the status showed that Tristan''s current identity was Tristan Hayes. As he walked toward the restaurant, Tristan read the next messages. Those were from Sam. [Boss, some local gangsters im they heard of you. They saw the car chase and distracted the cops. We are inside the ''Grill Bill'' ce, in the back. These people say they''d like to talk to you if you areing.] [I''m already here. No cops in sight.] Tristan typed back as he pushed the restaurant''s door open and stepped inside. Although his posture was rxed, his palm was hovering close to his knife, and he stood in a way that let him dive behind the cover of a table in an instant. He didn''t have to. His subordinates came from inside the restaurant, both unharmed. Cutout nodded, Sam waved his hand. Tristan walked up to them, frowning. "Boss! I guess we sort ofpleted the mission," Sam said cheekily. Cutout grunted in agreement. "Exin. For a start, what did cops want with you?" Tristan asked quietly enough to not be overheard. "We don''t know. They just saw a pair of us and started pointing their fingers. We knew better than to stay out there." Tristan frowned. This chase after his people, paired with the officers who came to his hotel¡­ It all couldn''t be a coincidence. At the same time, it didn''t seem like Tristan''s people were the cause. "Anyway, there''s a local gang boss in the backroom who wanted to chat, boss," Sam added. But Tristan wasn''t listening anymore. He saw another person walking out from the backrooms. The person whose face he could never forget. Chapter 107: A scared scarred face "Evelyn." Although Tristan said this, what he really wanted to say was, "What the hell are you doing here, bitch?!" He was still in public, though, even if there were only a few people around. So all Tristan did was burn her with a re. Even through the shock and anger he felt, Tristan noticed how much Evelyn had changed since theirst meeting. Mostly because thest time Tristan saw her, he had cut her face into strips. Now, several monthster, those wounds have healed, leaving behind angry red scars that utterly ruined Evelyn''s previously beautiful face. But one still couldn''t call Evelyn ugly. She dyed her hair purple, and was wearing a long-sleeved ck dress that hugged her curves extremely tight. The cleavage of the dress was enough to distract most men away from Evelyn''s face. Tristan stared only into her eyes, though, and saw them full of timid joy, cautious hope, and familiar fear. Her entire pose, with hunched and tense shoulders and hands gripping the hem of her skirt, showed the same. "Tristan. I¡ª" "Hey, aren''t you just Mr. Vargas''s girlfriend, Evelyn? Why are you speaking so disrespectfully to the boss?" Sam cut her off. Tristan raised his brows and nodded, silently asking the same question. Evelyn lowered her eyes. "I apologize. Mr. Hayes¡­ Pleasee in so I can exin. I promise that this isn''t a trap of any sort." Tristan pursed his lips. On one hand¡ªwhat was that with these women? He scared them away to the best of his ability, but they just ran faster back into his life! Will he have to beat them all with a baseball bat? On another hand, Evelyn didn''t go against him. He told her to scram and never return to his city, and she did. Their meeting today would''ve been a pure coincidence if it didn''t start with Evelyn and someone else helping Tristan''s men out. Which brought Tristan to the point that she was helping him. And not only her, from what Sam told earlier. Tristan let out a long breath to regain some rity of his mind. "Alright. Lead the way." Evelyn smiled slightly and gestured them in. Tristan didn''t miss that the workers of the restaurant pointedly and somewhat fearfully ignored the woman and all the people with her. As if they were her subordinates, or as if they knew she was a gangster, but were paid to ignore that kind of activity¡­ Be a front. Evelyn led all three of them to what must''ve been a staff lounge room inside the restaurant: a spacious ce with a few fake leather couches, a drink dispenser, a coffee table, and some assorted posters and photographs fixed on the walls. At the moment, the only person inside was definitely not some waiter. He was a muscr but lean ck-haired man in his mid-twenties, with scars on his hands that pointed that he did a lot of street fighting. Some of them were fresh. He was dressed in a ck shirt and jeans, and had an earring with a silver upside-down cross in right ear, but no other jewelry. Tristan immediately knew he was at the helm of this ce and saw simr recognition in the eyes of the man. "Thank you for fetching them, darling," he said to Evelyn with a smile, then stood up and offered Tristan his hand for a handshake. "I''m Hector Vargas¡­ but the locals know me as the leader of Rose Street Gang." Tristan shook his hand, unsure if he liked the man for his personality or disliked him because of his poor taste in women. Either way, he knew Vargas was almost certainly the same person he sent Cutout and Sam to. Find your next adventure on m_v l|e-NovelBin "Tristan Hayes. But you clearly knew that already, and not even from my men." "Yes. Evelyn told me some things¡­ Mostly that we should stay on your good side." Vargas shed a toothy and dangerous smile. "Although I honestly had my doubts about it¡­" He sat down and offered Tristan to do the same with a gesture. Evelyn snuggled next to Vargas without being told to. The way they sat slightly turned to each other looked like they were ready to protect each other from the world. Tristan scoffed inwardly as he sat down on the opposite side. Without having to be told, his men moved to stand behind Tristan. "This all sounds like an awfully fascinating story," Tristan said. "I''m surprised how far up you went since ourst meeting." Evelyn smiled bitterly. "It wasn''t easy¡­ And I was lucky to meet Hector. You don''t have to mince words¡ªI told him our story, and although he was angry at you at first, he understood that I¡­ I can only admire you. But not in THAT way¡­" She turned to smile at Vargas. "I only love Hector. But you, Mr. Hayes¡ªI can truly understand what you felt back then. And I''m deeply sorry for my actions in the past." Tristan frowned. Was that genuine remorse? Not some half-assed, self-centered version of it Jane showed? It looked awfully like that, and it made him feel things he didn''t like. But the presence of all the people, some of them subordinates that looked up at him, made Tristan keep his emotions in check again. "So let me see¡­ You wanted to apologize to me? That doesn''t mean I have to forgive you." "No," Vargas said. "But it''s not her who will offer you a deal today, Mr. Hayes. When I first heard about your appearance in Los Angeles and the exploits of the King Lion Gang, I wasn''t sure what to think about it. But Evelyn''s words convinced me we can work together. Helping your men out was just a lucky coincidence, but I hope it will help us start on the right foot." Tristan nodded. "It¡­ will. Either way, I wanted to offer you an alliance from the start. Los Angeles is ruled by too many disjointed gangs who fight each other more than they turn profit. And there''s a lot of profit to make!" Chapter 108: The first alliance In their hearts, the leaders of most organized crime syndicates, gangs, cartels, families, outfits¡ªno matter what they were called¡ªwere businessmen. Explore stories at m,v l''e-NovelBin They earned money by any means they could, not caring about legality. And if you don''t care about legality, then doing illegal things usually brought the most profit. That''s why they were criminals. Tristan understood this even before he became a criminal himself. Just living in the house of his father, whose business revolved around horse bets, already showed him that if those legal CEOs could get away with it, they would eagerly break thew for profit. Gangsters broke thew and dealt with consequences. All for money. The sh of interest in Vargas''s eyes at the mention of profit was fully expected. "Go on, Mr. Hayes." Tristan smiled. "You have ess to a part of the docks, no? I imagine that''s where the lot of your profites from¡ªbuying things from ship smugglers and reselling it. But what if you had something to sell back? Or even resources to buy your own boats? My organization can provide both¡ªfor a share of profit, of course." "This sounds almost too good to be true. Especially since we aren''t the only gang working in the docks¡ªdid you suggest this to them, too, Mr. Hayes?" "You would like it very much if I didn''t, isn''t that right? But I mean what I said earlier. All who agree to work with me will increase the sum of our profit, and all who disagree to work with me will be just¡­petition." Tristan''s smile widened, turning slightly threatening for a moment¡ªjust to make a point. Vargas frowned, leaning back in his seat. He nced at Evelyn, silently asking her opinion. "There''s strength in numbers, but there''s a reason it''s each gang for itself here. None of us trusts each other even a slightest bit, because we''ve been enemies for years. It will be impossible to work together," Evelyn muttered into Vargas''s chest. Vargas nodded, gently brushing her shoulder. "Good words, as always, dear. Mr. Hayes, your intention is good, but your goals are unrealistic. I will dly work with your organization, but only if you don''t recruit any other local gangs." Tristan hummed and pressed on,ying the charm thick. "Mr. Vargas, you are overestimating this problem. As long as people have a goal worth achieving and a leader they are devoted to, they will unite with anyone. It won''t be easy, but the profit will outweigh the difficulties." At that moment, Tristan appeared to be someone out of this world¡ªa handsome angel, perhaps, or even a god. His blue eyes glowed with something unfathomable, a great destiny that offered solutions to all problems in the world, as long as you bowed your head before him. That unspoken promise in Tristan''s eyes was as tempting as the honeyed words flowing from his mouth. For therge part of his life, Hector Vargas was someone who shouldered a lot of responsibility. He had to help his family, then take care of his gang, protect his people and his girlfriend from the many dangers of their lives. Although he was fit for this life, deep down in his soul, Vargas wanted to rest. But now he was silently offered not just profit, but to be relieved of that weight. It was like a subliminal message. Vargas blinked, and the magic disappeared, but his mind was already done. "Very well. If I can trust you, Mr. Hayes," he nced at Evelyn again, and when she nodded, continued, "then I will trust that you can resolve this." [Ding!] [You have earned the trust of a person of a high status. Reward: your PP increased by 1000!] Tristan grinned and reached out with his hand. "Let''s shake hands on that and talk some more. For a start, there are some things I hope you might know about the recent events." After they shook hands, the atmosphere in the room immediately became more rxed. Although Cutout and Sam still acted as Tristan''s bodyguards, they stopped to look like they expected Vargas to pull out a gun at any moment. Vargas himself smiled wider, too, and Evelyn stopped clinging to him so tightly. "dly, Mr. Hayes. But to start with, can I offer you a drink or refreshments? I''ve been a rude host until now. This restaurant is one of our moneyundering fronts, as you could''ve guessed, and we conduct business around it often enough, so there''s some premium booze stashed in the director''s office." Tristan shook his head. "Just some coffee, if you don''t mind. I''m going to drive." He pointed at the drink dispenser nearby. "Just don''t offer me this garbage." He had to drink it when he didn''t have money for anything better, but to Tristan, instant coffee always tasted like piss. Vargas chuckled. "I think it''s not so bad¡­ But sure. Eve, baby, you don''t mind?¡ª" "Of course, it''s no problem." She smiled and stood up. "I will get someone to make it." She walked away, swaying her hips¡ªwhich Vargas and Sam stared at all the way until Evelyn left the room. "I feel bad whenever I ask her to do small errands like that¡­ Although she still says I treat her like a queen. But after all she went through, I feel like she deserves more." Vargas said, turning back to Tristan. "I hope the money we earn will be enough to give her a life fit for a celebrity." Tristan forcefully locked his face into a pleasant expression, forbidding himself from scowling outwardly. What could he say? He didn''t n on stopping hating Evelyn! But neither he nned on letting his feeling stop him from achieving his goals, such as this alliance. "It will be," was all Tristan said. Thankfully, soon enough, Evelyn returned with a tray with two cups of coffee and some cookies left on the coffee table. Then, with one more smile at Vargas, she left the room. "So," Tristan said, picking his cup. "Mr. Vargas, do you know anything about why police might know about my people and try bringing them in now?" Chapter 109: Uncertainty "Mr. Vargas, do you know anything about why police might know about my people and try bringing them in now?" "Give me a few hours, and I might. Local police like to brag about bringing down gangs, but plenty of them eat from our hands." Tristan nodded. "Thank you. Then¡­ I apologize, but I came here in a hurry, and don''t have too much time to spend. We should exchange contacts and organize a proper meetingter." "Definitely. And I will give you the information as soon as I can." *** On his way out of the building, Tristan snidely wondered how she got another guy, better than the previous one, around her finger in such a short time. He had a few ideas. Evelyn was a woman who knew how to be beautiful in every aspect, not just face alone. But Tristan had to admit that Vargas was utterly smitten with her¡ªway more than someone of his rank would be just only because of beauty. There had to be some long story involved, and maybe even genuine love. Tristan scoffed inwardly as he sat inside his car. If so, the less he knew about it, the better it would be. At least Evelyn was actually helpful instead of "helpful"¡­ And although he didn''t fully trust her, Vargas appeared to be someone worth dealing with. Tristan still nned to be careful with both of them. Sam and Cutout sat on the back seat, but before driving, Tristan sent a text message to his other two grunts. [Sit low and wait for further instructions. Do as Derek says, too.] Tristan was sure Derek won''t let them be brought in for questioning, at the very least because of possible public implications. But he had to convince the manager to let all his security have a free day at once¡­ somehow. Scowling, Tristan began driving toward the apartment rented for his subordinates. "Someone must''ve tipped the police off about you, but I bet that if they had actual proof, they would''vee to the hotel with a warrant. Yes, they came for Trey and Owen, too. So until this is resolved, sit quietly at the apartment. I didn''t tell the exact address to anyone but you, so at the very least they will spend time looking for you." Both apartments were rented in Tristan Hayes''s name, but Tristan imagined the police would have to spend a lot of time finding that, since all documentation was only between him and thendlord, anyway. There wasn''t a lot of documentation in the first ce. "Got it, boss. But who could''ve tipped off the pigs? The GTG crew doesn''t know a sniff about us, I swear! That couldn''t be¡­ one of ours?" "It has to be." Tristan scowled. "And probably someone high up." Cutout sneered. "Worst kind of scum." "I hope that guy gets into a prison himself¡­ and everybody knows what he did," Sam said with disgust. ''Yeah, snitches and pedophiles don''t live long or well in prisons. However¡­'' "I hope we will deal with this person ourselves," Tristan said out loud. A momentter, he felt his phone vibrating¡ªhis Gemello phone. Without looking, he knew Derek was calling him. Tristan didn''t reply until the manager gave up and just drove faster. *** After dropping off Sam and Cutout, Tristan changed identities again and, as Tristan Gemello, returned to the hotel¡ªto be met with Derek. The usually calm smile of the man was strained and anxious¡ªa sharp contrast to his cheerful flower-print suit. "Mr. Gemello! Where were you? You weren''t replying to the calls. I thought the police¡ªWell¡­ We should talk about this all in a quieter ce. Please,e with me." Derek ushered Tristan out of the lobby and into his hotel room. That room was a smaller suite than Tristan''s or Nel''s, without its own kitchen, but still quite luxurious. This hotel didn''t have super cheap rooms, anyway. Nel was there as well, sitting on a couch and repeatedly running a hand through his hair, together with Owen and Trey. Both of the gangsters in disguise were stone-faced, but Tristan saw the anxiety under these masks. They wanted to follow their gangster instincts and get the hell out of here before the police came with a warrant. "I was out, because Samuel and Collins," those were the fake names of Sam and Cutout, "got into the simr predicament as these two. I had to help them get away." Tristan gestured at Owen and Trey. "I rented them rooms in a motel where they stay now¡­ Just in case. Sorry for not responding to calls¡ªI was driving." Tristan showed Derek his charming smile, and the manager smiled back in reflex. Then he caught his wits together. "Why did they call you, not me? Well, I will ask them. But I''m even more concerned about what the Los Angeles police wanted from them! These people were hired by the GTG agency itself¡­" "The police didn''t have a warrant! Whatever the police wanted, it wasn''t good enough!" Nel eximed suddenly. "We aren''t some nobodies anymore, right? We can just block their way if anything happens. And IF theye with a warrant¡­ Will it be any good, anyway?" Derek looked at Owen and Trey. "I''m sure it was all a huge misunderstanding. Both of you and your colleagues were nothing but helpful. However¡­ I''m afraid that until this situation stabilizes, you should stay inside the hotel. Samuel and Collins should return here, too." "No, let them stay where they are, Mr. Derek. At the very least, to not put all eggs in the same basket." Derek hesitated for a moment, but nodded. "Well¡­ You paid for the motel already, I suppose. It''d be a waste of money to not use it. All their things are here, though." "They will be fine for a day or two." Tristan said more forcefully. Derek hesitated more. Although his smile didn''t show it, there were some doubts about his security people in his mind. They were dutiful people, but with a bit more scars and a general air of danger than an average security guard. But he couldn''t stand in Tristan''s way. Chapter 110: Poking a hornets nest In the end, Derek couldn''t do much at all. He made inquiries to the police and to the main GTG office about what was going on, but got no satisfactory answers from either side. Unlike Tristan, who got his information from Vargas via a phone call only a couple of hours after their conversation. "My police contact says that someone brought an anonymous letter to one of the LAPD divisions. That went up the food chain, and now something big is brewing. But it''s all kept under wraps, on a need-to-know basis. From what he heard, picking up your guys was only a part of the n." "I see. This was all you got, Mr. Vargas?" "Yes. My advice¨Clook behind your back. That''s where the traitors usually stand." Tristan scowled. This confirmed his suspicions. "Thank you. I will speak to you about our other agreements soon, but I have to deal with something else first." "I understand," Vargas chuckled. "Good luck rat hunting." There was a traitor¡ªa rat¡ªin the King Lion Gang who gave information about Tristan''s operation to the police. There were enough people who envied his quick rise, but few of them had the means for something like this. ''I have to find that person and prove his fault to the gang¡ªthen I can lie low until the police give up on whatever it tries to do. But just sending a virus to the suspects probably won''t work. After the Cuatro Angulos fight, when they became aware of how much hackers can do, everybody high up takes special care withputer security.'' Bypassing increased security was not impossible, but would take time Tristan didn''t have at the moment. ''Perhaps I won''t have to do much, though. I didn''t rise in ranks to do all the work myself!'' With that thought, Tristan called Kevin and gave his deputy a new task. A pretty simple one. Kevin will exin to Leon von and all his underbosses what had happened, but pass news that Tristan was proceeding fine with his task, anyway, and will be able to show the first results soon. "Yes, Mr. Hayes. This will make a ho nest out of the council¡­" "This is the entire point, Kevin." ''Everybody will want to find the traitor, at least publicly! And after finding out that I''m still on my way to sess, he will have to act more directly. That''s where I or someone else will catch him.'' At this point, Tristan was almost 100% sure the traitor was one of the other underbosses. Either of them¡ªthey might''ve respected him, but to trust? No. "I will do it, Mr. Hayes." *** Two hourster. After hearing what Kevin gathered the emergency meeting for, using his position as Tristan''s deputy, outrage and disbelief gathered on the faces of all people present in Leon von''s gathering room. Martinez was the first to jump from his seat and the loudest to shout. "This is nder! A bunch of egregious lies. None of us would''ve done something like that! If anything, Hayes made up the ''anonymous tip'' himself to excuse the fact that his goons made a blunder that caused this interest of the police!" "Was there any need to shout, Martinez? Everybody with two eyes could see that you hate Mr. Hayes. If anyone had the motive to do this, even though it goes against all our principles as members of the King Lion Gang, it''s you." Whitman said. "But that doesn''t say anything, of course. A motive isn''t a proof." The third underboss, Delgado, silently clenched his fists. Next moment, Leon stood up and mmed his fist on the table. "Quiet! Nobody will throw usations here! But I''m not going to dismiss Hayes''s report. There are few people who have the full information about his mission, and most of them are in this room." Everybody went quiet. "I will personally pick people responsible for investigations among lower-rank subordinates. They will sniff out this rat and bring him to me. You won''t interfere with this search." The underbosses squirmed under Leon''s heavy gaze and bowed their heads. Neither of them wanted someone from the side to go through their things during this investigation. All of them had plenty of small but dirty secrets. They won''t dare to go against Leon, though, so they were all thinking about how they will hide them. They didn''t think that whoever Leon picked for this investigation would do a great job, anyway. Unlike them, but they were under suspicion. Seeing their submission, Leon nodded and sat back down. "That''s all for now. Dismissed." *** Kevin, of course, reported all that happened to Tristan posthaste. The retelling made Tristan huff. "An investigation like that?.. I wonder whates out of it. It''s not like Leon has actual detectives in his employ! Now that would''ve been interesting. Either way, the hos are buzzing, so things are doing well. You just keep your normal work, Kevin." "dly, Mr. Hayes. But what if the investigatores to us?.." "Show him everything. I have nothing to hide." Anything to hide in that city. Los Angeles was another story. "Understood." *** Two dayster. Things were quiet. Suspiciously quiet, if Tristan had a say. Things also were moving along regardless of his suspicions, so that morning Derek woke Tristan and Nel early (although Tristan, of course, was already awake). "The ''Under Wrong Sky'' opening ceremony is this evening, which means that you must start preparing now. I already arranged your costumes, and the stylist wille for you a bitter, so¡ª" "So, um, Mr," Nel yawned, "Mr. Derek, maybe start with a coffee and breakfast, please?" Derek''s posture softened immediately. "Of course. But what I actually meant to say that you will start with going to a beauty salon for a spa. Your appointment is an hour and a half, and with the LA traffic¡­ I suggest you should eat quickly." Nel winced. Tristan patted him on the shoulder. ''Sometimes I miss sleeping properly and seeing dreams¡­ But I sure not miss having to wake up!'' Chapter 111: Walking down a (small) red carpet Several hourster. A red carpet, railed off with red velvet rope, was set up at the entrance of a small cinema theater. At the side of it were backdrops with the posters for the ''Under the Wrong Sky'' movie and the logos of the movie''s sponsors. Journalists and photographs gathered around like a flock of curious, loud birds. Amid them fluttered the staff of the event and guests that gradually arrived at the event ording to their schedule. Security guards stood at the key points around the area, keeping an eye out on anyone who tried to approach without checking for their ticket. Compared to the huge red carpet events held for blockbuster movies, this event was very small. Counting all the people around, there were two hundred people present at the highest estimate. The earlier guests came, the lower was their rtive social rank here. Those who cameter will gather the most attention from the gathered media. Tristan and Nel stepped onto the red carpet almost thest, and were immediately assaulted by shes of the cameras. Today, after hours of priming, both men looked their absolute best! They both wore formal suits, but Tristan''s was pure ck with a white shirt and ck tie, evoking a faint feeling of danger without being obnoxious. In contrast, Nel''s was pure white, standing out in an entirely different way¡ªbut also tasteful, with a light blue shirt and white tie. Both of them were practically glowing after all the spa treatments and careful work the stylists made with makeup to make it look like they had no makeup and were just naturally so perfect. Evenpared to all the actors gathered here, the charisma these two exuded made women swoon a little! At the same time, journalists were alreadying up with future headlines about the couple in their head. Things like, ''Demon and angel¡ªhow fast will those new stars rise?'' Tristan showed the cameras a practiced devilish smile and waved with fake casualness, making sure to hold the most striking poses he could as he walked. Even through the bright camera shes, he managed to meet eyes with a few people present, striking an even better impression! Nelson just grinned and waved with both hands, showing with all his face how d he was to be here. But that heartfelt attitude,pared to the more refined of most other Hollywood people, was immediately endearing to many observers. After walking down the carpet, Tristan and Nelson were asked to take a few photographs in front of the logo backdrops, which let Tristan pose for the cameras even more. These poses were casual, and unlike women who came to those events in shy and fashionable dresses, men rarely had notable opportunities to show off here. But Tristan could just stand there and evoke the same stage presence as when he held a guitar in front of an audience. It was almost palpable. [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 54 people of varying status and skill. Reward: your CP increased by 900.] Tristan shed another smile at the journalists and stepped away from the backdrop. Nel followed him like a lost, but very enthusiastic, puppy. Around them, the press was taking interviews with the movie actors, each of whom Tristan immediately recognized from the promotional information about the movie. However, he was surprised to not see the film director anywhere. Then a stray journalist, who probably already interviewed everybody else he wanted, approached Tristan and Nel, sticking his microphone at both. A cameraman hung awkwardly behind the journalist''s back. "Greetings! I''m Josh Backinston from the Liveline online newspaper. What do you expect of today''s movie premiere, Mr. Gemello, Mr. Mayar?" "I''m sure it will be great!" Nel said immediately. "The trailer was awesome. I''m usually not a fan of sad movies, but there was so much feeling in this one." Tristan nodded and hummed, tapping his chin. "I agree. The director of his movie must be a true artist at heart. His previous movie was even cheaper than this one, but got excellent reviews from both critics and viewers, didn''t it? He¡ª" A movement in the corner of his eye, and a gaze more intense than most others, suddenly attracted Tristan''s attention. He turned in that direction and saw at least 6 feet tall man with long, not braided dark hair move along the edge of the event crowd. That man was familiar¡ªTristan saw him in photos. "It''s that him? Asher Ilom?" Josh the journalist gasped and looked in the same direction. "He is! Huh, why is he moving like that? Artists can be entric sometimes, of course, and I heard some things like these about Mr. Ilom, but¡ªwon''t he walk on the red carpet at least?.." From what Tristan saw, the man clearly wanted to avoid the red carpet as much as possible. However, he was a head taller than most gathered people and stood out despite his best attempts. In no time, the man was surrounded by journalists and cameras, and forced to reluctantly speak with them. Even Josh swam through the crowd toward Ilom, clearly finding him a more interesting target. "How weird. This is his own opening event¡ªshouldn''t he be d that there''s all this attention? Instead, this guy seems like he''s in huge trouble," Nelmented, staring at the ring of people around Ilom. "I want to help him out, but I have no idea how." Stay connected with m-v l|e''-NovelBin Tristan tilted his head slightly. "Well, this man was the one who invited us here despite having no connection with us, so he sure deserves some gratitude from us. And, we are supposed to just beworking and meeting new people, as Mr. Derek asked. Might as well start with this guy." Nel''s eyes lit up. "You have a n?" "Not yet," Tristan said, grinning. "But I wille up with something, absolutely." With those words, he marched toward Asher Ilom. His powerful aura made ordinary staff members and guests move from his way before he even approached them, but was this going to be enough to break through the hungry for news journalist sharks? Chapter 112: The most antisocial film director alive The journalists were so focused on the increasingly agitated film director that they didn''t notice Tristan and Nelson at all. There were at least twenty of them, including the cameramen, in that crowd, and they literally had Ilom with his back to the wall. Although the overall noise of the avenue and the loud questions of the journalists made it hard to notice Tristan''s and Nel''s approach, Tristan still got annoyed that they ignored them sopletely. He could¡ªand wanted to¡ªjust shove people out of the way, but even for a "rogue" persona like Tristan, this was a cause for a scandal. He couldn''t have a scandal when the Californian Young Star contest was going to happen so soon! But Tristan quickly had an idea. "I think the crowd is thinner in this direction. Try to go there and switch their attention, Nel. And I will try from this side." Nel made a mock salute. "Got it, Tris. I will give them an interview before they even ask!" Tristan grinned. "Yeah, it''s not like half of them can even make a shot of Mr. Ilom''s face. What they are doing is pointless." "You don''t say," Nel said with a slight wince, and went to the ce on the other side of the crowd. It really looked thinner than the others, and after Nel began pestering the nearest people with unsolicited opinions andmentaries, some journalists were forced to turn toward him. However, it didn''t distract the main group. But that''s why Nel''s actions, in reality, were just a distraction from Tristan himself. Right now, Tristan could already feel the amount of gazes on him lessening¡ªespecially because he used his stealth skills to change posture and seem more unassuming, even blend a little with service staff in their dark uniforms. Moving with nonchnt grace, Tristan walked past a cameraman with an especiallyrge camera, fitted with a huge shmp. Tristan walked around him, looking for another way through the crowd. Then he stumbled on someone''s leg in the crowd and fell sideways right at the cameraman. Frantically grasping for purchase, Tristan identally pushed the cameraman and his huge, unwieldy camera right toward the loud crowd of journalists. "Not the camera!" the camera operator shrieked, stretching out his arms to protect his expensive equipment. But the real protector of the camera was a female journalist it had fallen on! With a panicked cry, the woman grasped for her neighbors, causing a domino effect of falling people. In seconds, all attention was diverted from Ilom to the ident, especially as usations of who pushed who began flying. Of course, Tristan had already moved away from all of it. Although, with his acting skill of 1315 points, everybody here who saw him fall would absolutely believe that it was an ident. Which it wasn''t, of course. Tristan was too dexterous to trip like that. In themotion, Ilom sneaked away, too. But Tristan saw him entering the hall of the cinema theater and immediately went after him. On his way there, he caught the eye of Nel and gestured to him to follow. "Did you do that, Tris?" Nel asked in a low voice after catching up with Tristan. Read new chapters at m_v-l''e|-NovelBin "Do what?" Tristan asked with an innocent smile. "Mr. Ilom just got lucky. Oh, and speaking of him¡ª" He was blending with the shadows of the theater''s hallway on the way to the cloakroom. There weren''t many people in here yet, just a few staff members going back and forth. Tristan felt the man''s eyes on himself before he looked there. On closer inspection, the entric film director looked like a ghoul. Despite his height, he stood slightly hunched, and his long ck hair covered the sides of his face like a curtain. There were deep bags under Asher Ilom''s eyes, and even his suit sat on him like on a coat hanger. But his green eyes were bright, almost manically so. "You two¡­ Gemello and Mayar¡­ You should''ve done your job better," he said. "Huh?" Nel asked, tilting his head. Tristan narrowed his eyes and approached the man. "Our job? What are you talking about?" "A distraction. I thought if I invite some fresh, juicy bait for them, the press will focus on you more than on me!" Ilomined, pointing a finger at them. He huffed. "But at least they got off my back now." "Huuuuh?! S-seriously?!¡ª" "Quiet!" Ilom snapped at Nel. "Don''t attract more attention to me. Or better yet, leave? Will you? I''d like to wait until it''s time for my speech in peace." Tristan looked around, then gestured deeper toward the cloakroom. He didn''t like Ilom''s attitude at all, but he was getting curious about this weird person. And he was still here towork. Ilom nodded, and the three wordlessly went away from the entrance. "We actually did help you, Mr. Ilom," Tristan said, looking at Ilom with narrowed eyes. "But perhaps next time you need help, you ask directly and suggest your payment for it instead of hoping that people will just do it." Ilom shuddered. "No. I had enough asking, and pleading, and convincing¡­ No." Nel huffed and iled his arms in frustration. "Man, if you don''t like people so much, why making a grand ceremony out of it and all? Just sit at home if you are such a recluse." "You don''t understand how this industry works! You probably think that only actors need to show their faces and be all smiley to the public, but no. If you are the creator, you must promote your work, personally too, or else it will fail and you will get no investors giving you money for the next one! So here I am." Ilom made a pause and hissed the word, "Promoting." Tristan shook his head, unsure if this was worth augh or a cry. That man¡­ Well, his dedication to making movies despite his obvious dislike for social activities was impressive, but his attitude¡­ "Anyway, that ident earlier¡­ was it your work?" Ilom asked, eying Tristan and Nel suspiciously. "Then perhaps we can work together in the future. But I will only suggest it once." "Suggest what?" Chapter 113: The movie was good, but the after-party will be better Ilom stood straighter. At his full height, he towered over both Nel and Tristan, even though neither of them could be called short. He''d be intimidating if Tristan couldn''t tell easily that Ilom was more afraid of them than could ever be afraid of him. ''He''s almost like a spider¡­ Isn''t that what someone online joked about a spider?'' Tristan thought he saw a meme like that once. "Keep keeping a press away from me until I leave. I know my PR manager won''t, since he put me to this in the first ce. He didn''t even give me security to keep those damn journalists away¡ªnever again!" He iled his arms in anger, then clenched his fists at the sides. "In return, I will introduce you to some people at the after-party. The kind of people to offer good projects to young, handsome artists. They work with all kinds of Hollywood personalities, as long as they look good on camera. I think they are involved with the Californian Young Star organizations, too." Well, this was something easy to agree to. Tristan grinned. "Sure, Mr. Ilom. We are happy to do a good deed any day, aren''t we?" He smirked at Nel. "I sure am," Nel said without irony. By that point, more people began flowing into the movie theater, most of them walking past the cloakroom. When Tristan checked the clock, he saw that only about ten minutes left until Ilom''s introduction speech and the film screening. "You should move backstage somewhere, then, Mr. Ilom, before you get spotted here. Nel can talk with people at the entrance, and I will cover your back on the way." Ilom''s eyes widened in surprise, then he nodded. His eyes bore into Tristan in a way that made him look strangely and unpleasantly like an open book. "You sound like this isn''t the first time you deal with¡­ hm¡­ operations like these, Gemello. Very savvy, that''s good. Let''s go." Thankfully, inside the theater with its dimmed lights, the press wasn''t as brazen as in the open air. And at least some journalists felt like they had their bite of Ilom, so when Nel struck a casual conversation with a journalist crew passing by, they stopped and talked back. Ilom kept crawling along the theater''s corners, his dark suit blending with the shadows. Tristan kept a watch on him from a distance, and whenever he saw someone noticing Ilom and trying to approach him, Tristan casually stepped in that person''s way, forcing them to pause at least long enough to lose Ilom in the growing crowd of people. Soon, Ilom hidpletely somewhere at the back of the theater, and all the guests took their assigned seats in the theater. Tristan and Nel, as guests of honor¡ªnow Tristan knew why¡ªsat in front. Right in front of them was a lectern, behind which hung therge white screen. When the hesitant silence fell on the theater, Ilom finally stepped out to the public again. shes of cameras went off, making him wince, but Ilom reached the lectern and began reading from a paper ced on it. "Thank you¡­ for being here. Hm¡­ There are more thanks¡­ How many thanks are necessary, anyway? Ugh!" Ilom crumpled the note and red at the sh that went off. "And stop taking photos of me! Let me just be brief. I made this movie because there was a story in my head that I needed to share with as many people as possible. So it needs to be a sess. I hope you will promote it, whether you like the movie or not." With thatst word, Ilom went off the stage, the cameras were finally turned off, and the movie began. An hour and a halfter, Tristan became convinced that Ilom really was brilliant at what he was doing. The movie''s production was cheap, and its actors were all small names in the industry, but every piece fit together perfectly to make arge picture. By the time the movie finished, Nelson had been biting his lip so much, he almost broke the skin. Although the protagonist reached the dream life he strove for, the way he did it made both him and the viewers feel like it was absolutely undeserved. Like he was still an impostor in his ce, even after working to keep it. The protagonist wouldn''t refuse that life, both for his own sake and the sake of his family, but the final shot of the movie gave a visceral feeling of anxiety and fear that all those riches will just disappear in an instant¡ªand there will be left even less than the protagonist had originally. It didn''t feel like a victory, more like a loss. Tristan experienced a deep resentment of this message, but he couldn''t help but apud with everybody. The movie was amazing, and as all the best pieces of media did, it sure made Tristan feel things. But if he was in the protagonist''s situation, he''d just take all the good luck he got and owned it. After all, if bad luck was his, and no one said, "Oh no, he didn''t deserve it!" then why should anyone ever say that he didn''t deserve his good luck? "This¡­ This hits deep, doesn''t it, Tris?" Nel asked as people around them began to get up from their seats. Tristan scowled. "I don''t think this message was even for us. From what Ilom said, it probably wasn''t even a message, just an expression of his feelings." "It can be both," Nel countered, then sighed. "To be honest, I don''t like movies that make me feel bad, either. But I bet critics will like it." "All I know is that Ilom might be a useful man to know in the future, and that he has promised to show us some people at the after-party. Since there won''t be a Q&A session, let''s get moving there." With these words, Tristan threw all moral questions out of his head and began following the people moving toward the after-party that was listed in the event''s schedule. Chapter 114: A wild arrogant young... blogger? The after-party was held at a nearby restaurant, a part of which was closed from the public for the event. Guests quickly flocked to free appetizers, bite-sized sandwiches and flutes of champagne spread out on the tables and moved around by the waiters. With the artsy decor of the restaurant itself, the after-party was clearly made to resemble an actual g in miniature, although the mood here was much more rxed. And although the press was still here, they were forced to leave their cumbersome cameras and other recording equipment behind. As usual, as soon as Ilom entered the ce, he sneaked along the walls, looking out for the specific people in the crowd. Tristan and Nel were right behind him. "I will introduce you two to this pair and leave immediately after. I have to greet them anyway," Ilom had told them on their way here. As they walked, they were noticed by several people. Some of them moved to greet Ilom again, but he suddenly began walking faster toward a couple of guests. One of them was a stocky, balding man in a dark gray suit, who was sipping champagne and talking to hispanion¡ªa taller, gorgeous brte in one of the most modest white dresses in the room. The brte was holding the man''s elbow, making it clear they were a couple, but Tristan noticed that the man didn''t have even a trace of a wedding ring. So, a girlfriend. In a dozen long steps, he approached the couple and forced a smile on his face. "Mr. Morsworn, Ms. Hale. What a pleasure to see you here tonight. My apologies for not greeting you before now¡ªI was busy with, uh, things." Morsworn smiled back. "I''m sure you were, Mr. Ilom! It''s your movie''s first presentation, after all. But after seeing it, I''m even more sure that my investment will pay off." Tristan and Nelson caught up with Ilom, and the director immediately stepped back, as if trying to hide behind them without actually doing so. "Yes-yes¡­ Absolutely. Anyway, those are my guests of honor, whose music I''m already a fan of. Let me introduce you to each other¡ªMr. Morsworn, Ms. Hale, these are rising musicians Tristan Gemello and Nelson Mayar. Mr. Gemello, Mr. Mayar, those are Dominic Morsworn, one of the movie''s investors, and Ms. Hale. I don''t know about this year, butst year she was a judge at the Californian Young Star contest." Tristan''s eyes widened. Those were incredibly useful connections to have! Although Ilom''s usual antisocial manner, even with thepliment he made them, probably won''t do anything to warm those two to Tristan and Nelson, even the introduction alone was immensely valuable. Tristan smiled his best smile at Dominic and Reba and offered his hand for a shake. "I''m very lucky to meet you both¡ªthere aren''t that many people with an impable taste like yours, even in show business. Taste in both movies and finer things." When they were shaking hands, Tristan nodded at the gold watch on Dominic''s wrist. "This is Ralex, isn''t it?" Ralex was the most famous brand of expensive watches, associated with luxury with name alone, even without the gold. The watch was actually very gaudy and didn''t fit with the costume at all, but it cost at least several thousand dors. Since Dominic''s suit was already incredibly expensive and tailor-made¡ªsomething which a person with actual taste could tell by its fit¡ªDominic clearly thought the watch was his best way to show off. The second best way was his girlfriend, obviously. But Tristan didn''t want to threaten the man. Reba already looked at him with too much interest. Tristan''s charming words, pointed directly at his weaknesses, made Dominic smile wider and preen. "It is! It''s an exclusive model, worth four thousand dors." Experience tales at mvl "You have a good eye for luxury, Mr. Gemello. Not like you, Mr. Mayar, right?" Reba asked Nelson. "But I heard your performance, of course, and I''m sure that you will get used to finer things soon enough." Nelsonughed. "Honestly, I feel that no matter how many zeroes there will be on my bank ount, and for how long, I will keep gasping and asking, ''Is this all mine? Really?!'' every time!" Everybody smiled and chuckled. Nel''s genuineness was a perfect spice to Tristan''s charm, making Tristan himself appear even more genuine than his 1315 points of acting skill did. Even if Nel wasn''t Tristan''s friend, Tristan would''ve brought him around everywhere he could, just for this almost magical effect! While everybody chatted, and their attention wasn''t on him, Ilom quietly left. Tristan was the only one to notice him slithering away, but he wasn''t going to call the man out. Instead, he and Nel continued to chat up the pair, establishing a good rapport. They found that Morsworn often invested in various show business projects, from movies to music and TV shows, while Reba was a talent scout, and was about to be a judge for the finale of the CYS contest. asionally, other guests stopped near the group to greet them, and Dominic and Reba introduced Tristan and Nel to many of them, giving Tristan another foothold at charming these people. But most importantly, after half an hour of conversation about all kinds of things, Tristan was sure that he''d be able to make Reba spill the info about the ''surprise trial'' that was going to happen at the CYS contest. He was just about to lead to this question when another guest approached them¡ªa young, handsome man with a trimmed beard and a swagger in his walk. "Mr. Morsworn, Ms. Hale! I didn''t expect to see you together with musical people today¡­ Especially such inexperienced ones," the man said. His eyes went over Tristan and Nelson, as if scanning for weaknesses, and zeroed on Nelson. "Hm, I wanted to write something in my blog about the drama around your debut, Mr. Mayar, but it felt like it wasn''t worth my attention." The man nced at Dominic and Reba, checking their reaction. ''Who even is this guy?!'' Chapter 115: Slapping away a fly to get to the honey Nel tensed. Tristan clenched and rxed his fists. He immediately understood the tactics of this bully. He was just trying to look better in front of Dominic and Reba by stepping on Nel''s head. But what this man didn''t understand was that bullying Nel was like kicking a puppy. Sure, he was the easiest target¡ªnaivete was written on his forehead¡ªbut attacking him only made you look like the worst person to ever walk the Earth! Instead of the agreeing smirks, the arrogant blogger was met with cold frowns. "Hm? And who are you? It''s quite rude to just approach without even introducing yourself!" Reba said, staring him down. The blogger stuttered. "But¡ªBut you know me, Ms. Hale! Miles Stone, we''ve spoken at¡ª" Reba scoffed. "I must''ve forgotten, because it wasn''t worth my attention." Tristan snickered and patted Nelson''s shoulder. He whispered in his ear, but loud enough for Miles to hear. "See? Now those are bad manners, Nel. Just don''t act the opposite of this guy, and everybody will consider you a paragon of elegance." Tristan gave Miles a pointed death re, cold enough to freeze-burn. Miles''s face changed colors from normal to red to white within seconds. The finale of this brief scene came with the harsh scowl of Dominic. "Didn''t you see we were talking? Don''t interrupt other people like that." Then Dominic turned to Tristan and continued as if nothing happened, "So, what did you want to ask, Mr. Gemello?" Tristan smiled, also pointedly ignoring Miles. "Oh, I was curious about the Californian Young Star contest. It''s not easy to organize a major thing like that¡­ are you sponsoring it among your other projects, Mr. Morsworn?" This ignoring told clearer than any worse that these people would never have business with Miles, possibly not in this lifetime. [Ding!] [You have (together with others) pped the face of a person of moderate status. Reward: your CP increased by 50.] Even the Second Identity System considered his pathetic face not worth much pping. Beaten off right after his approach, the blogger went for the champagne to soothe his wounded pride. Continue reading at mvl Without him, and with conversation being resumed, Nel was smiling andughing again in no time. And soon enough, Tristan got what he wanted from Reba. "In thest few years, the contest organizers became concerned with people who were buying songs and entire performances, or preparing them way beforehand. In the previous years we required the song to fit a theme, but it was still too easy to find a little-known song and adapt it. This year, they''ve removed the theme requirement, but want to try another thing. The PR department hopes it will increase the general interest for the contest TV ratings as well." Nel listened with obvious interest, while Tristan acted casually, while thinking how to pull the most information out of Reba. By now, her cheeks were flushed with champagne, but didn''t show any signs of drunkenness. "I heard they want toe up with a more popr show style of things. There''s the hope that contestants won''t have to sing their songs while running through an obstacle course!" Dominicughed. "That would''ve been hrious to watch, definitely!" Rebaughed too, but waved Tristan away. "No, no! Of course not! In actuality, the main contest will go as usual, but then after it¡ª" She caught herself and chidingly wagged her finger at Tristan. "Ah, Gemello, but I can''t tell you! It won''t be a secret otherwise." "I was just saying my thoughts aloud," Tristan replied with pure innocence. "Sounds super intriguing, though." Still not enough information to prepare, but something, at least. Tristan smiled, feeling that at least a part of his current ns for Los Angeles goes well. For the rest of the party, he and Nelson continued to socialize, charming many more people in the room, especially when ballroom dances were announced. All the while, Tristan''s Second Identity System continued to assault him with notifications. [Ding!] [You have gained the good will of a person of high status. Reward: your CP increased by 500!] [Ding!] [You have impressed a person of moderate status. Reward: your CP increased by 200!] [Ding!] [You have impressed a person of moderate status and skill. Reward: your CP increased by 600!] [Ding!] [Charisma attribute increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 100!] ¡­ By the end of the night, Tristan was 5400 Criminal Points richer than before. *** Two dayster. The release day of the "Under the Wrong Sky" movie was a great sess¡ªmore than its creators predicted. Almost all tickets were bought out, and inrge part it was thanks to its opening ceremony. Not only did critics leave positive reviews for the movie, the journalists took many photographs of the film''s director. Asher Ilom looked hriously terrible on camera. In half the shots, his face was blurred or obscured by his hair or hands or other people. In the other half of the shots, his face showed expressions of all stages of anxiety. By the release date of the movie, Inte users made a dozen memes with Ilom''s expressions. [Halloween lovers when Christmas decorations appear on shelves in November], and a picture of Ilom trying to get away from a microphone. [Me when I see a wasp], and a picture of Ilom covering his eyes from a photo sh. That was Ilom''s first public appearance even though this was his second movie (the first had an even lower budget and was less known). And it was probably going to be hisst, unless Ilom''s PR manager chained him to the stage next time. Tristan was ready to bet on it. He and Nelson got featured in celebrity magazines, too. Their fans already began worshiping all the photos in suits and drawing new fanarts. General public justmented on how good they looked and that they could''ve easily be actors themselves based on looks alone. [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 5 thousand people online with your looks and presence. Reward: your CP increased by 500!] But before Tristan could fully enjoy looking at his points, he got a message from Kevin that dimmed his mood. Chapter 116: Buying things and preparing for the worst [Good and bad news, Mr. Hayes. Mr. Whitman found evidence that Mr. Martinez was the person who gave information about you to the Los Angeles police. Martinez escaped before he was caught, though. It''s currently unknown where he went, but the entire gang is searching for him at the moment.] Tristan frowned. Then he frowned deeper. ''That Martinez escaped is bad enough, but... Why was Whitman the one to find info on Martinez if the investigation was led by von himself? This entire thing stinks!'' And just to add to this, Sam sent Tristan a report, too. Ever since the attack on them, the entire group of gangsters has been lying low, not even leaving their hideout apartment to buy food and ordering a delivery to the door instead. At the moment, Tristan just wanted to go through the CYS contest without police giving them, and by that virtue him, trouble. [Boss, we saw some inclothes cops sniffing around under the windows of our building. I don''t think they caught on us, though.] ''Damned police¡­ Can''t they be lesspetent, for once?'' To both people, Tristan responded the same. [Keep waiting.] He was as ready as could be at the moment and had no more time. When he had a few free hours before, he tried to send aputer virus to the LAPD police, but their inner offices were too isted from the public. The most Tristan had achieved was putting a trojan onto aputer of a random clerk who filtered endless spam that went to the public email of LAPD every day. Maybe with more time Tristan could''ve got more. But the Californian Young Star contest''s final round was going to happen tomorrow. All Tristan had were his hours of rehearsals, support of old and new acquaintances, and a massive supply of points. ''I will check the shop, too, since I didn''t do it today yet.'' [===Shop===] [''Bilingual'' talent: 3000 points] [A dose of truth serum: 1500 Criminal Points] [A foreign bank deposit card: 3000 Criminal Points] [======] Tristan''s eyes lit up. Just in case, he checked that the talent made what he thought it did. [Bilingual: you can understand thenguage of your choosing at the same level as your nativenguage. The secondnguage is chosen once and can''t be changed.] ''This one definitely will be useful in the future,'' he thought, buying the talent immediately. [Ding!] [''Bilingual'' talent is purchased for 1500 PP and 1500 CP. Please choose yournguage to activate it.] There were no new buttons or lists to choose from. ''Does this mean I should just think about whatevernguage I want? Would it work on deadnguages, too? Well, there''s no point in risking it, anyway. I want to learn Spanish!'' [Ding!] [''Bilingual (Spanish)'' talent is activated sessfully!] Tristan felt information flood his mind. When it was over, he grinned to himself. Tristan said in perfect Spanish. There wasn''t even a hint of an ent. He still had points left, so Tristan decided to buy a dose of truth serum, too. He read its in-system description first. [The effect of this serum removes the speech filter in the brain of affected people, causing them to answer all questions asked to them with absolute sincerity, even if they try to keep silent. This truth serum can be injected or put into food or drink. It has no smell, color or taste, and doesn''t expire. It can be mixed with alcohol and other drugs. If injected, the effect of the serumsts for 1 hour. If put into food, the effect of the serumsts 10-15 minutes.] ''This sounds like something out of science fiction, not real life¡­ Well, I guess, so are systems¡­ Ah, it''s useful, so I''m just going to ept it. I''d like to question Evelyn with a dose of this¡ªto make sure this bitch REALLY doesn''t n anything against me¡­'' With other people, Tristan usually trusted his advanced senses and observation skill enough to make judgment, but Evelyn was an exception. She had already blindsided him once. Tristan bought the serum and felt his pocket be a bit heavier. He reached in and pulled out a small stic ampule of clear liquid. There were no markings on the ampule. ''A syringe wasn''t included in the deal, huh? I should buy one when I go past a drugstore. Now let''s check how many points I have left. Status!'' [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Contracted Young Star.] [Criminal rank: Made Man.] [Pop-star Points: 1040] [Criminal Points: 3860] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 250] [Charisma: 240] [Fearsomeness: 236] [Strength: 223] [Dexterity: 228] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 1857] [Dancing: 1079] [ying guitar: 2096] [Music theory: 680] [Music production: 523] [Acting: 1315] [Songwriting: 1234] [Voice control: 811] [Stage presence: 1223] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [ying flute: 1] [ying violin: 1] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1224] [Observation: 2076] [Driving: 618] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 816] [Athletics: 419] [Treating injuries: 201] [Lockpicking: 1] [Combat analysis: 505] [Hacking: 2431] [Governing: 454] [Torture: 2] [Logistics: 4] [Forgery: 1] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [Bullet Time] [Hypnotic Voice] [Sight Awareness] [Electronic Sight Awareness] [Ambidextrous] [Bilingual (Spanish)] [======] Good stats all around, enough points for an emergency dump into several skills at once, and skills and talents that already let Tristan avoid what would''ve been inevitable death for someone else. Tristan nodded in satisfaction. ''Even if Martinez and the police attack me together while I''m singing on the stage, at the very least, I''d be able to run away.'' *** Next day. "Time sure flies, Mr. Gemello¡­ Hard to imagine that it''s December already. But I know you are ready to win this contest!" Derek cheered for Tristan while they drove toward the contest''s music hall. Tristan was at the wheel, despite Derek''s initial protests, with Nelson in front and Derek in the back seat. "You are going to y them all with your song, no matter what others cook up, Tris," Nelson added. Tristan smiled. "Thanks. I definitely will." In front of the car, a majestic music theater, muchrger than that from his city, came into view. Chapter 117: The final round had begun Two hourster. The final round of the Californian Young Star contest was taking ce in Orpheum Theater¡ªa massive building, the concert hall of which fit 2000 guest seats. The walls of the hall were painted gold-like yellow, and on the ceiling was a massive oval mural with mythological scenes. Other decorations were made in a simr style of old luxury¡ªthe ce looked almost like a Gothic church with its many decorative wall arches. Today, the audience hall was full, and people who were invited, together with those who bought expensive tickets, all waited for the show. The special guests from the showbiz industry and various celebrities sat in the front row, and judges had a separate table right next to the stage. Nelson was an almost ordinary guest today¡ªsince they apanied Tristan, they could buy tickets in the second row, and rtively cheaply. As for Derek, he was here to do anything Tristan might need, or make others do it. To his surprise, Tristan also saw Rafael "Big Rocket" at the very edge of the front row. It was just a coincidence, he supposed¡ªTristan hadn''t contacted Rafael yet since their meeting through either of his identities, and Rafael was entirely unaware of who Tristan Gemello was. Here, the security was strict, and every artist was apanied from the moment of their arrival to the performance itself. Tristan guessed that the failed attack on him at the previous round of the contest made the organizers more cautious. Now Tristan was sitting in a waiting room with no option to go anywhere else, watching the contest happen from the screen and eying other participants. Like him, all of them had tuned their instruments and put on their stage costumes and makeup, many of them doing it somewhere else. They all were ready. There were neen of them, with Tristan being the twentieth. Young geniuses and people with experience who only recently decided to step on stage¡­ Many had talent, but Tristan had an unfair advantage. He smirked. On the stage, the host was hyping up the crowd with his own over-exaggerated dramatics. "Greetings, people of Los Angeles and everybody who traveled to get here! Today, on this stage, 20 Californian young stars will fight for the grand prize of FIFTEEN! THOUSAND! DOLLARS!" The crowd cheered, but to the people in the front row, those weren''t big money. At this point, those weren''t huge money even to Tristan. Poprity and status he could get from this all were a much bigger draw! ''I might earn thousands¡­ dozens of thousands Criminal Points from this. I already can convince almost anyone to take me seriously and manipte them to do whatever I want¡ªwhat if I raise my fearsomeness to 1000? Or if I raise my physical stats¡­ Even with all the distance and walls between us, the boss of Angulos won''t stand a chance.'' "And to determine who is the worthiest among the worthy, we''ve invited those incredibly experienced people and their sharp eyes and ears. Greet them: Isaiah Caldwell! A Grammy-winner, this man had watched music change for decades and shook hands with the kings of pop-music!" Anky old man in rectangr sses stood up and bowed while people apuded. "Next to him is Kira Montez! Although he''s not performing at the moment, a while ago he won the Californian Young Star contest herself!" A handsome man in his thirties smiled brightly and waved at the apuding audience. "And now, the beautiful half of our judges. Wee Reba Hale! She has an eye for talent, and spent years working with musicbels!" A tall, gorgeous brte whom Tristan knew already stood up and waved to the audience. "Thest but not the least is Selene Waters! She hasposed soundtracks for many award-winning movies, and even has an Oscar for Best Soundtrack standing on her shelf!" Selene was a short, plump and well-endowed blond woman. She didn''t stand up or smile, just gave a small wave. "And finally, today''s special guest¡ªMary Jade! Dozens of pop-stars wore outfits from her fashion lines, or designed by Ms. Jade personally. Although she didn''te here to judge, she sure will give her opinions on the styles of today''s contestants!" That woman wore her fashion on herself in the form of a bold ck dress with countless purple sequins. Although she didn''t look quite like a model, she could''ve been: blond, tall, hourss figure. Mary smiled slightly at the audience as she waved, but her eyes were cold. The host talked for longer, exining some history of the event and the overall rules, before calling the name of the firstpetitor in line. Tristan was the third, so he knew he wouldn''t have to wait long until his performance. The first contestant was a teenage girl who made a beautiful, almost theatrical dance show out of her song, but could barely sing, which was immediately and harshly pointed out by Isaiah. When the girl pouted and almost cried, Kira encouraged her to try again and the girl''s handler moved her off the stage before she got too emotionally unstable. The second performer was a man in his twenties who yed the flute. The melody was truly haunting and grim, as well asplex. It required a lot of technique, which the musician had. Isaiah and Selene liked it, especially Selene, who asked about the piece''s story and background. However, the rest of the judges looked bored. Thanks to watching their reactions when his name was called, Tristan knew what to expect, and what would appeal to each of them. Not just in this part of the contest, but when the time for the "secret" part of it came. Dressed in ck leather studded pants, white T-shirt, ck leather jacket and red sneakers, Tristan stepped onto the stage and felt the pressure of people''s gazes on him. There were so many, they felt heavier than the weight of a guitar slung over his shoulder. Many of them, he knew, were already his fans ever since his previous performance. "Wee¡ªTristaaaaan Gemellooooooo!" Chapter 118: Tristan Gemello steps onto the stage Metal studs in Tristan''s jacket shone brightly under the stage spotlights. Loud apuse drowned out the echo of the host''s words. Tristan walked onto the stage like a Greek god descending from Olympus. But not a god of gentle beauty or arts¡ªtoday, he was a Hephaestus, the smith of metal and maker of rock! The presentation alone was impressive, and the audience, already warmed up by the first two contestants, perked up in interest. But this was just the beginning. Tristan had rehearsed this piece a lot for this day. Hours and hours, since he wanted to make sure it would be executed perfectly. "I''m very d to see you all tonight, Los Angeles¡­ Since it means that I''ve won the previous round. And now, I''m going to do my best to win this one¡­ ''By the Right of Might''!" Thest, emphasized words were the name of his current song, and understanding that, the audience apuded some more in expectation. While they quietened down, Tristan took his guitar in both hands. He immediately started with a quiet, but fast-paced strumming of strings, which gradually became louder and louder. Tristan himself stood straight, with his head hung low, but his stage presence didn''t suffer in the least because of this timid pose. Without words, he only created more tension and anticipation, and the guitar melody evoked the image of a horde of cavalry inevitably descending upon the listener. And when the volume reached its peak, Tristan suddenly twisted the melody into a jagged guitar riff, directly followed by a series of high-pitched, electric noises in an erratic rhythm. Sounds that even an electric guitar could normally never produce! Like sounds of battle and shing des! This picture was vivid in the minds of listeners without a single word! Listeners were stunned speechless, and those who were close enough to see what Tristan was doing with his guitar were stunned even more. The way he pulled, pressed on and scratched the strings¡ªhis fingers danced over them with an inhuman speed and precision! The techniques Tristan used to make his guitar produce sounds that were normally made only with a DJ set were on the level of the best guitar pros! Although the melody started like rock, now it sounded almost like dubstep or techno. And only when this part ended, changing to something still fast, but not as sharp, Tristan began singing in his hypnotically powerful voice. "No mercy for those who still stand! I''m taking it all with this hand!" Tristan hit the strings harder, and while the chord still echoed in the air, raised his right fist above his head. "By the right of might!" As if possessed, by the second time Tristan shouted the words, his fans among the viewers and even some people who didn''t care for him until now began chanting the words together with him. "BY THE RIGHT OF MIGHT!" The next part of the song was still rtively slow, with deeper notes which created an impression of grandeur¡ªbut that pace was gradually increasing as Tristan sang. "Empires stretch from East to West, Armies of thousands wear my crest. All is mine that''s under my sight, By the right of might!" And the audience echoed again. "BY THE RIGHT OF MIGHT!" By the time the song ended, Tristan conquered every listener. He didn''t need his system to know, although¡­ [Ding!] [You had greatly impressed an audience of 2000 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 2000!] [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 48 people of high status and skill with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 3000!] ¡­the system notifications were very pleasing, too. Judges all talked in agitation about the performance. "What an incredible guitar performance! And that singing¡ªit makes me wonder if Gemello is really self-taught, or if he was secretly tutored by some unknown guru!" Isaiah said. "Mr. Gemello, this is such a powerful piece of music¡ªis it, perhaps, a statement to the industry?" Selene asked Tristan. He grinned andughed, still breathing heavily from exertion and riding on the high of being in the spotlight. "I think everybody can and should interpret art in whatever way they want. For me, this piece was inspired by watching too many historical war movies!" At least, Tristan watched them for the lyrics. The core idea actually came to him after he dealt with Pierce and kicked Cuatro Angulos out of his city¡­ But the public didn''t need to know it. Other judges also had only positive opinions, and the way both Reba Hale and Mary Jade looked at him, Tristan knew they already wanted to snatch him for some project. Finally, with onest bout of apuse, he left the stage and went back to his waiting spot. The contestants had to wait here until the announcement of the results, although Tristan knew they were also waiting for something else. ''The performance went as well as nned. Now, as long as the secret thing the judges announced will be manageable, I have this in my pocket,'' Tristan thought rxedly. *** Somewhere else. Hugo Martinez drove a car down the jammed highways of Los Angeles, forcing down his desire to shout at other drivers who were in his way. Instead of his usual expensive suit, he was dressed as some middle-aged dad, in a white shirt, a pair of khaki shorts and a baseball hat. If anyone from the King Lion Gang looked at him at this moment, they wouldn''t have recognized their boss in him¡­ or a gangster at all. But that disguise wouldn''t fool people who hunted Martinez for long, and there were too many of these people. ''Orpheum Theater¡­ I''m almost here.'' Martinez turned a corner, then stopped again and swore. The traffic jam stretched all the way to the music theater, visible in the distance. ''Fuck this. If this doesn''t work out, I won''t need this car, anyway.'' Ignoring honks of other drivers, Martinez took a bag with his things, opened the door and stepped right on the road. He walked past the jammed cars right toward the Orpheum Theater¡­ And Tristan Gemello. Chapter 119: An unexpected rival! Tristan watched the performances, mentally judging the contestants. They were all good, but not¡­ amazing. After his stunning performance, everybody in the waiting room was as curious about him as they were interested in the contest. A few people looked like they would want to approach and curry favor with him, but Tristan wasn''t in the mood for that. So he sat with a cold, unapproachable expression, the force of which intimidated people into staying well away. Especially after Tristan spent 2000 Criminal Points out of shitton he had earned into increasing his fearsomeness to 436. Now that his aura was so terrifying when Tristan wanted it to be, it worked better than any "Do Not Enter!" sign could. No one dared to even sit within three meters of him. There was only one exception. The man''s stage name was Angelo Omen, and he was a year or two younger than Tristan. With his long, ashen-blond hair and flowing white tunic as a stage costume, he really looked somewhat angelic. He was also the only one not watching the contest at all¡ªinstead he was sitting on a couch, wearing noise-canceling earphones, and simply spacing out. The guy was curious, but somewhat creepy. In the recording of his performance, he showed an incredible technical skill with a keyboard, but zero emotion. Angelo only won at all because the other contestants were notably worse, and probably because someone thought he was an interesting freak. ''What did he forget here in the first ce?'' Tristan thought idly. Angelo''s face gave not a slightest hint. The man showed less emotion than a robot, so much so that Tristan wondered if his face muscles were paralyzed. "Up next, Mr. Angelo Omen," an attendant said, entering the waiting room. "Mr. Angelo Omen? Please,e with me." When the guy didn''t react, Tristan snapped his fingers and pointed at the attendant. That caught Angelo''s attention. Still silent, Angelo blinked and, without a word, went to the stage. ''What a weirdo. It''s almost a pity that he has so little passion for the music he ys. The contest''s host called him a young genius¡­ Well, then he''s sure a genius lost to the world of music! And without them, the best you can achieve is ''good''." Angelo didn''t take off his earphones even on stage, instead connecting him to his electric keyboard. Just like at his previous performance. Then stagehands suddenly brought a second keyboard, which Angelo quickly connected to the first. Tristan sat up in his seat, curious. ''Is he going to?..'' "This song is called ''A Snail''s Debate''." With those emotionless words, Angelo sat on a rotating stool and began ying. His upper body barely moved, and his back was as straight as if someone tied a string to the top of his head. But his hands moved as if possessed by demons. Instead of setting the electric keyboard to piano sound, Angelo switched settings on the fly with a foot pedal, seamlessly shifting between high-pitched violin and low-pitched trombone. This usage of sounds from other instruments was amon feature of electric keyboards and synthesizers, but few people could use it so well. The melody sounded like a conversation between that violin and trombone, which Angelo had with himself. It was a show of masterful technique, excellentposition, andst but not the least¡ªit was yed with passion that didn''t fit with Angelo''s nk face at all! Tristan was shocked. And then, for the first time sinceing here, he became actually unsure of his chances. Find your next read at mvl Because so far Angelo only needed one keyboard¡ªwhy did he bring two? For vocal samples, it turned out. Even before neuralworks and AI began filling the market, there were programs for synthesizing "singing" out of prerecorded pieces of speech. One of these programs even became more popr than many real singers, especially its icon with two ponytails. But those programs were made for use on aputer. After all, there were many more various sounds in anguage than a piano keyboard could fit. Angelo wasn''t stopped by it. With one hand, he yed a tune on his main keyboard, and with the other hand, he drummed the song lyrics on his speech keyboard. Each key was tied to a sound or a syble. There weren''t that many, but Angelo used pedals to increase the possible amount. The song, too, was a conversation. Although the voice stayed the same, the violin and trombone continued to switch along the verses. That "singing" wasn''t very melodic, but it certainly fit Angelo''s mood. "Come on out, the sun is bright!" "No, we must stay out of sight." "Come to where grass is warm!" "No, I will slip and I will fall." The snail''s debate was about whether toe outside of its shell. There was no chorus verse¡­ But there was a sudden finale, for which Angelo switched the keyboard''s settings again, making it sound like a violin and trombone ying at once. In the end, the snail was served as someone''s fashionable dinner, and Tristan was clenching his fists on his knees. The audience apuded Angelo all at once! "What an incredible performance, and an astounding technique. Perhaps this couldpete with the show given to us by Mr. Gemello," Isaiahmented to other judges. "Yes! It will be a hard choice between the two. They can''t be more different, but both have their own distinct and striking style!" Kira Montez replied. "It looks like at the previous stages you weren''t going all out at all, Mr. Omen," Selene addressed Angelo. "Before, you acted like you had no motivation at all, but this song showed that this cannot be true! What has changed your mind?" Angelo looked at her, proving that he could hear in his headphones. "I don''t want to talk about this to the public. May I leave already?" Selene''s smile tensed, but the show''s host was already there to fix the situation with a joke. "The more genius a person is, the more entric they are, this is for sure! Now let''s send off Angelo Omen with another round of apuse and wee our nextpetitor¡­" Tristan wasn''t listening anymore. He was thinking. ''This man¡­ really blindsided me! He¡­ I can''t read him. What''s on his mind¡ªand how do I make sure I still win?'' Chapter 120: Cheating shamelessly ''I guess it won''t be too hard to make sure judges just love me more than Angelo,'' Tristan thought. ''But he''s unusual, exotic¡ªthe public loves this, and judges love high TV ratings.'' Maybe it would''ve worked out, maybe it wouldn''t have. Either way, Tristan felt humbled. Even with his system, there were people who couldpete with him, and people who were just better. And without the system, Trystan would be rotting in prison right now. A momentter, he sat straighter and clenched his jaw. ''So what?! I''m not going to give up on my goals, just because I met an obstacle I didn''t expect! If I want a smooth start in the industry and a lot of CP to help meter, I have to win this contest, so I will do it! Honest methods or by foul, what does it matter?'' When Angelo returned to the waiting room, just as emotionless as when he left, Tristan''s determination was even brighter than before. He prepared to show not just his 100%, but his 200%! By honest methods or by foul. Ignoring everyone, Angelo walked all the way to his previous seat on a couch opposite of Tristan and spaced out again. "Hey, Omen," Tristan spoke up. "Why didn''t you y like that from the start?" Angelo blinked and looked at Tristan. After a pause, he pulled the headphones down. "Please, repeat. I didn''t hear your words just now." Angelo was close enough that when Tristan focused, he could''ve heard music from Angelo''s headphones¡ªexcept there weren''t any. ''Huh? He wears headphones without music? Really, what a weird man! But a genius¡­ Is he really one of these people who are born extremely good at something, but are terrible at everything else?'' "I asked, why didn''t you y like just now from the start, Omen? At the first round of thepetition? You would''ve earned much more poprity¡­ I didn''t hear about you at all outside of the contest." "That''s because I wasn''t interested in participating in this contest until recently, Mr. Gemello. Then I was convinced that it will be worth my time to actually win it. I think, if I knew from the start that there would be musicians like you in the finale, I''d have tried harder from the first round. Do you y any other instruments besides the guitar?" Tristan blinked at the speech. Angelo still spoke extremely emotionlessly, and it made Tristan doubt if he was being subtly snubbed or if Angelo''s words were genuine. In the background, thest few contestants were performing one by one on the screen in the waiting room, and Tristan saw they weren''t good enough to be hispetition. Here, only Angelo was. "I y a bit of piano. So what do you want to win for? You obviously don''t care about fame, so money?" Angelo''s eyes brightened the slightest bit. "I want more money, yes. My parents exined to me that if I win this contest and release songs I wrote for myself, I could earn a lot of it. Are you as good with piano as with guitar, Mr. Gemello?" Gears shifted in Tristan''s head. This was a perfect opportunity to cheat¡ªand what was more cheating when he already cheated with his system? He nced around. Discover stories with mvl Other contestants were throwing curious looks at the two of them, and several of them were definitely listening to every word. With subtle, deft motions, Tristan pulled out his phone and quickly typed a brief message. When he felt that nobody was watching his hands, he leaned closer to Angelo and showed the message to him. [I have an offer for you that can give you more money than this contest. To know more, a couple minutes after I leave, ask to go to the bathroom.] "With piano I''m just decent. Anyway, let''s chatter." The contestants were forced to wait inside the room and not go anywhere on their own (so they won''t get lost in a massive building), but there was an attendant to show them a way to an empty public bathroom with squeaky clean white tile and huge mirrors. When Tristan got there, he waited patiently. He didn''t fear that Angelo would snitch on him, because Angelo had no proof yet. Two minutester, Angelo walked inside, too. "Is this a secret meeting?" he asked robotically. "Do you want to bribe me, Mr. Gemello?" Tristan smirked. "So you aren''t stupid. But yes, that''s what I want. I can pay you more than $15000, and you can still release your songs. Hell, I can even help you promote them. If they are anything like thest one, they are worth promoting." His demeanor was charming and his voice was like liquid honey pouring into Angelo''s ears¨Cbut there wasn''t a sign that Angelo was affected by it at all. Tristan didn''t even know if it were his persuasion abilities failing, or just his observation skills. He was working almost blind here! "But this would be illegal, and cheating. Those are wrong things." Tristan narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you truly believe, Angelo Omen? Thatw defines what''s right and what''s wrong? Then how does it happen that rich people can be let off with a fine for major crimes, while others are often put into prison despite being entirely innocent?" Angelo thought for a long moment. "Please, speak more directly, Mr. Gemello. Did you mean to say that the justice system is wed, or that it''s money that decides what''s right or what''s wrong?" "The first one!" Tristan snorted. "Money just decides who can do whatever they want, and who can''t." ''This man is so nk¡ªI still can''t tell what he thinks! I have no idea what he wants, either! Besides money, of course. But I know what he DOESN''T want!'' "Omen, think about this¡ªyou said you don''t likepeting here. You don''t enjoy being in the spotlight at all, right? If you are only here for the money, then just take mine and leave without all the bother." Angelo thought for even longer than the previous time, before finally giving an answer. Chapter 121: Challenges "Alright. If I be a winner, I will be interviewed a lot, and I don''t want that. My parents might even force me to go somewhere without headphones. But I don''t want anyone to be suspicious that I gave up so suddenly." Tristan nodded. "This round of the contest wasn''t the real final round. Just y at your worst for the next thing, and it will be alright. Then I will give you the money. Well?" Angelo tilted his head. "I can''t tell when people are being dishonest. If you trick me, I will tell the public about this conversation, so you better not trick me. Even without proof, it can cause a scandal for you." Tristan only grinned and offered his hand for a shake. "I don''t know what to think about you, but it''s a deal." Angelo didn''t shake it. "I don''t like touching people." Without another word, he went into a bathroom stall, leaving Tristan alone. ''What a weird man!'' Tristan thought again and left the bathroom. *** Half an hourter. After a short break for judges to discuss the results, all contestants were invited to the stage again. Left and right, people were anxiously chewing their nails and lips, hoping and praying to achieve victory despite all odds. Only Tristan felt and acted calm. Although he didn''t know what challenge he was about to face, he believed in his ability to rise up to it, no matter what it took. And of course, there was also Angelo¡ªstill a stone statue. All contestants stood in a line in front of the table with judges, who sat with mysterious expressions on their faces. "Now, it''s time to announce the winners of¡­ semi-finals! Yes, you heard it right. This year, the Californian Young Star Contest has an extra surprise round!" the host eximed from his ce to the side. The audience and the participants were equally shocked. Many gasps flew from the crowd, and Tristan, too, feigned surprise. "But before we get to it, the judges will eliminate ten participants out of twenty standing on the stage. Please, call out their names!" One by one, the judges called out the names of the failed artists and gave an overview of their ws. One by one, the failed artists left the stage. Soon, only ten people were left, Tristan and Angelo among them. Others were also pretty talented, but not as much. "Now, I will exin the rules of the next round! The name of the game is, ''Instant Songwriting''. Right now, all finalists will be led to isted rooms, where their instruments were already moved to. There, they will have exactly half an hour to write an entirely new song on a given theme. This song will decide the ultimate winner!" A young woman on the left of Tristan gasped in disbelief. "W-what? Just half an hour? But it''s impossible to write anything! We will basically improvise on stage!" Nearby, another finalist, a pale because of anxiety teenager, began shaking like a leaf. "I can''t do it¡­ I can''t," he muttered. "C-can I go home?" There were more reactions like these: shock, disbelief, fear. ''Yes, if I didn''t bribe him, Angelo could''ve been a serious opponent right now!'' Tristan thought. ''Among his unreleased songs, surely there is something that fits the theme of the round. Someone like him definitely could''ve just yed it by heart.'' "If you want to forfeit this round, pleasee down from the left side of the stage. But don''t you want to try doing your best?" the host said theatrically. Tristan could already imagine how all this drama would look on TV. The contest makers clearly chased the TV ratings. "I can''t¡­ This won''t work," the shaking teenager said. With head bowed low, he left the stage in shame. A momentter, the girl who performed first left as well, sniffing in her fist. "If these are all who''s left, then let our special guest, Ms. Mary Jade, announce the theme!" The beautiful woman stood up and lifted her microphone. "The theme of your song will be¡­ Christmas." She smiled. "It''s almost here, so this is how we are going to celebrate tonight." *** The room Tristan was brought into looked like a side-lounge, except someone brought his guitar here and set it up with an amplifier. A staff member sat near a door, making sure no one was cheating. To Tristan''s delight, the contestants were allowed to take snacks from the waiting room into their istion. The contest began in the morning and now went way past lunch. Tristan sat on a couch, nibbled on a candy bar, and thought about his song. Sketching something in half an hour wasn''t a problem. He had 1234 songwriting points¡ªhe could just improvise! Discover exclusive content at mvl ''But I want to sweep the TV viewers from their feet when the recording of the contest airs. I better go overboard!'' He pressed some buttons on his status panel. [Ding!] [Songwriting skill increased from 1234 to 1724.] And Tristan still had 540 Pop-star Points left. ''That''s better. So, Christmas?.. Heh, a Christmas carol in a rock genre sounds like fun.'' He began strumming the strings, sketching a melody and improvising basic lyrics, when the door to the room flew open and a man stepped inside. Startled, Tristan plucked a string wrong, making it make an ear-grating, sharp noise. "Who are you? Wha¡ªMmf!" In the brief moment Tristan spent to turn toward the door, the man grabbed the attendant and pressed a chemical-smelling cloth to his nose. A secondter, the attendant became limp, put to sleep by the chemical. And at the same time, Tristan himself was limp with absolute shock and rm! The shock made Tristan so slow to react that when he saw the man drop the attendant and pull out a gun with a silencer instead, he barely felt his ''Bullet Time'' talent activating. Because the man in an American dad''s clothing and a baseball hat who pointed a gun at Tristan was Hugo Martinez. Chapter 122: Utterfly terrifying even at gunpoint A million questions were running through Tristan''s head. ''How did he get here? WHY did he get here?! Is he onto me? No, no, if Martinez knew about my identities, I''d be hit with a system penalty already. But does he suspect? What is he nning to do? If he wanted to kill me, why now, of all times? He couldn''t have known I''d be isted here, now!'' Tristan''s mind was so overwhelmed that the extra thinking time given to him by his ''Bullet Time'' talent passed in a blink of an eye. Martinez closed the entrance door behind him and advanced on Tristan. "Gemello. Tell me where Tristan Hayes is now, if you don''t want to get shot." Tristan opened his mouth, then closed it again. As pieces of the puzzle arranged in his head, his confusion abated, and he gradually calmed down. Tristan raised his arms in a cating gesture. "I have no idea whom you are talking about¡­ And who are you, mister? How did you go past all the security?" Martinez got close enough that he could poke Tristan with the gun''s muzzle if he wanted to. Tristan didn''t move back. "I''m the one asking questions here, boy. Don''t lie to me! I know Hayes has dealings with you. His ''cousin'', wasn''t that right? You sure do look simr. Where is Hayes hiding?" Tristan appeared hesitating, while in reality he was scrutinizing Martinez. The man looked haggard. The life on the run clearly didn''t do him good. He moved and held his weapon with the surety of an experienced thug, something Tristan had never had the opportunity to see before, but his body was twitching slightly with desperation. This man had spent years in cozy office chairs, but he started out as a thug, and still knew how to be one (and clearly knew how to get past the hall security without alerting anyone). However, he was cornered, and knew it! Seeing this, Tristan stood straighter. Instead of letting Martinez intimidate him further, Tristan red down at him, intending to strike fear in his soul. "What will it do to you, if I tell you? Even if you kill him, it won''t clear your name, traitor! You can''t even call it yourst revenge, because you aren''t avenging anything! You dug your own grave here, so ept it and lie in it. At least if you bow your head before people you betrayed and apologize, they might forgive you in death and let you have a proper funeral instead of feeding your body to the fishes!" The power of Tristan''s voice, posture and aura was an incredible, almost physical thing. The words struck right into Martinez''s fears, and without noticing it, he backed off from Tristan. "What do you even know, punk?! What did Hayes tell you about me?! I was set up!" Martinez''s gun still pointed at Tristan''s face, but the man''s hands were shaking so hard, he probably would miss even from this distance. Tristan kept pushing. He pointed an using finger at Martinez. Continue reading at mvl "All criminals say this in court! ''I''m not guilty, I was set up, it was an ident!'' A word of a criminal isn''t worth a thing!" The gun slipped from Martinez''s slippery with nervous sweat hands. The man crumbled on himself, barely standing. "But I didn''t do it! If I could find Hayes¡­ He''d have to help me prove it!" [Ding!] [You have utterly terrified a person of moderate status and skill. Reward: your CP increased by 500!] Tristan hummed thoughtfully. Without looking away from Martinez (he could still pull himself together and start shooting), Tristan walked to a water cooler and filled a stic cup with water. Making sure that Martinez wasn''t looking at his hands, Tristan pulled an ampule of truth serum out of his pocket and added the contents to the cup. "Drink this and calm down, old man," Tristan said, giving the cup to Martinez. "Exin things clearly, and maybe I will tell you what you want to know." Martinez took the cup and began sipping through it mechanically, while Tristan subtly kicked the gun under a couch. "So you aren''t a traitor?" Tristan asked when the water cup was empty. "My cousin told me otherwise. He told me to be careful walking around, just in case someone like youes and tries to use me against him. Ah, all the work to keep our connections secret¡­ I shouldn''t have let him send his thugs with me." If Martinez had any suspicions about Tristan''s identity, these words helped to erase them. Though, from Tristan''s understanding, Martinez was blissfully unaware. "I''m not, and I would never be! I may be a criminal and a gangster, but there are principles even gangsters don''t break. People like me will go to Hell after death, but to turn on your own people is to be invited to sit with the Devil himself!" He blinked, shocked at his own speech. "But what about the information leaked to the police?" "It was a setup by Whitman. That snake¡­ I''m entirely unsurprised that he''d use even something as dirty as a double betrayal, just to take over my share of the organization. As soon as Hayes told about the alleged ''betrayal'', Whitman oh so conveniently found proofs against me. And others had swallowed it up! I almost thought that Hayes and Whitman worked together against me. They still might, but this is my best chance." As soon as he fell silent, Martinez bit his lip. He clearly was confused about why he was so talkative all out of the sudden, but Tristan didn''t let him think. "But you clearly dislike Hayes, anyway." "Of course! That arrogant youth¡ªeven if he''s as loyal to the gang as he says, he''s way too big-headed for everyone''s good! He already pulled the gang into this mess. It''s almost a civil war! The least he can do is to help clear this up and punish people who are actually responsible!" Tristan rubbed his forehead. All that shaped in a really unexpected manner that gave him a headache. And worst of all¡­ There were barely ten minutes left until Tristan will have to go on the stage! Chapter 123: No time to prepare Tristan didn''t have time for this. He still had to perform! ''How did I end up in this mess?.. Well, it''s not HIS fault, at least,'' Tristan thought, ncing at Martinez. ''But now I spent a dose of truth serum worth 1500 Criminal Points on him. Hope it will be worth it.'' Now that the situation was under his control again, Tristan began rapidly thinking about his future options. He was already nning to take over King Lion Gang with the resources and allies he would amass in Los Angeles. If one of the three other underbosses will be at his side by then, and one other was revealed as a traitor in an opportune moment and left without support, it will be Tristan and Martinez against Delgado and Leon von. The chances of Leon von surrendering peacefully would increase drastically, and taking over would be much easier. "Alright. I can''t tell you where Hayes is, because I don''t know. But I will tell him about what you told me and tell him to meet you. Can you hide somewhere near this building?" "From local security¡ªyes. I can hide on the lower levels of the nearest parking garage, but I don''t know how long I have until Whitman''s people find me. They are close behind me, I know it¡­ I hope Hayes hurries!" Tristan narrowed his eyes. "If you want his help, you better do something about this attitude when you meet him. Now get out before I get kicked out of this contest because of you! And take your gun, too. I will deal with that guy you knocked out." "My attitude? This youngster has to think about his attitude! And you¡ª" Martinez bit down on his tongue hard enough to wince. "I''m too old to go through shit like this¡­ I suppose, at the very least, Hayes has shown himself capable. And you didn''t call the security on me, so I will trust you on this. If he gets me out of this mess¡­" Martinez was still muttering to himself when he pulled the gun from under the couch and left the room. When the door closed behind him, Tristan let out a breath of relief and went to the prone attendant. It looked like he got bruised in the fall, but at least not on the head. Tristan shook his shoulder and saw the man''s eyelids fluttering. "My God, are you alright, man?" Tristan asked with perfectly yed worry and confusion. Subconsciously, he was copying Nelson''s mannerisms in this moment, adding more kindness and sincerity into his gaze. "You just fainted on the spot like this! Do you have low blood pressure?" The attendant groaned and opened his dazed eyes. "What¡­ Ah! There was a man¡ªWhere is he?" He tried to get up, but Tristan had to catch him when the man almost fell again. "A man? What are you talking about? There was no one but me." "But I saw¡­ Did I dream this up? Ugh, my head is splitting¡­ Ah, I''m sorry, Mr. Gemello, I didn''t mean to distract you¡­" "Don''t apologize for being sick! Hey, I can call an ambnce for you¡ª" "No need, I just¡­ I''m going to call my boss. Ugh¡­" Nevertheless, Tristan gave the unlucky man a cup of water (notced with anything this time). If the drug Martinez made him inhale was what Tristan thought it was, the man would have to stay in bed at least for a day after this. But the doze was clearly small, or he''d be unconscious longer. After drinking water, the attendant pulled out his phone and called his boss. While he did that, Tristan stepped aside and tried to focus on the song again. However, the situation was immensely distracting. Half the time he would think about lyric verses, and then he''d think about what he could do with Martinez, or wonder what was Whitman''s agenda in all this¡­ The door opened, but this time, it was just a pair of other staff members. One of them went for the sick attendant, while the other approached Tristan. "We are very sorry that you were hindered by one of our people, but the time foring up with a song is up. Please, follow me to the stage." ''Already?!'' The merciless clock showed that, indeed, 30 minutes have already passed. And Tristan only had the barest bones of a song ready! He clenched his fist, but kept his face and posture rxed. Readtest chapters at mvl "Alright, let''s go." ''I will have to improvise¡­ But others will have to do the same. We all had only 30 minutes, after all.'' When Tristan stepped on the stage with a guitar slung over his shoulders, he found a row of chairs ced at one side of it, facing both the middle of the dimly lit stage and the audience. Tristan was invited to sit there, where other finalists were gathering, too. All of them looked like Tristan felt¡ªbarely ready, if ready at all, but hiding it to the best of their efforts. Except for Angelo again, who was still a rock. When everybody took their ces, the spotlights turned on, lighting the line of finalists and the host who stepped onto the stage from the opposite side. "And soon it will be time for the moment of truth. One by one, these men and women will y their Christmas songs, but to whom Santa us will gift the victory? Ahem, excuse me, this was a terrible pun." The host grinned, and the audienceughed a little. "This time, there''s no select order. Whoever is bravest and boldest, and thinks he''s ready to perform, can step onto the stage! Your instruments are already being brought close. Now, who will be the one who impresses us first?" There was a tense pause as everybody nced at each other without moving from their spots. Tristan wanted to spend some more time while others yed to prepare, but now he began to stand up. Angelo was faster. "I might as well perform the first," he said. "Amazingposure even in this nerve-wracking moment! Wee Angelo Omen onto the stage,dies and gentlemen!" Tristan narrowed his eyes. Was Angelo going to keep his promise? Chapter 124: Improvisation in its finest "I didn''te up with a name for this song," Angelo said, sitting down on a stool. He was given both his keyboards, but he only used one. Angelo switched the instrument setting to make it sound like a normal piano, then emotionlessly performed a festive melody that sounded like something that could y in a supermarket during Christmas holidays. It was so utterly unremarkable that everybody who was stunned speechless by Angelo''s previous performance was left gaping in shock again¡ªespecially since nothing in his movements showed he was unsure of himself. "What an incredibly boring performance!" Kira Montez eximed. "Mr. Omen acted like a student who knew he was going to fail the exam, so he gave up his paper early. What was the point of wasting our timepeting at all, then?" Isaiahined. Angelo looked at the judges. "This was what I came up with in half an hour." He went to sit back at his spot without a single nce at Tristan, while stagehands removed his keyboards from the stage. Your journey continues on §Þ?? There was almost no apuse for him, and the judges kept grumbling about people who could improvise better with no preparation at all. But Angelo didn''t react to all that mockery, staying entirely indifferent. The contest''s host found his voice again and stepped into the center. "Well, not everyone works at the same speed, and not everyone can improvise. At least he tried, right? Maybe this will make others braver!" It didn''t. Not at all. With a huff, Tristan stood up. "I can''t cowardly wait until everybody else goes to the stage. It''s bad enough that I''m second. I hate being the second!" he said with a joking smirk. Since he didn''t have a microphone, his voice was only heard by the front row, but it made several people smile, among them the host. "Tristan Gemello decided to show who intends to be the winner here! All the favorites of the contest are performing at the beginning of this round¡ªbut will Tristan deliver on his promises, or be just as disappointing as Angelo Omen?" "Of course I will deliver," Tristan said into the microphone attached to a tall tripod. He hit the strings of his guitar, starting with the simple melody he hade up with earlier. It wasn''t hard to make a cheerful, festive Christmas tune. But he had to make it stand out, at least in one aspect, because otherwise he won''t do much better than Angelo. ''Quickly¡­ I need something¡­ Like the dumbest idea ever, anything will do¡­ Judges love me already, they just want something for the TV ratings!'' He nced around the rows of people in the audience, searching for inspiration, until his eyes fell on Rafael. The Mexican man''s dark skin and even darker head tattoos became the match which lit Tristan''s inspiration. They were just so distinctly not-American that it reminded Tristan of where exactly he and the audience were. Suddenly, Tristan''s light-hearted melody became fast and aggressive. He swung his head in the song''s rhythm like a death metal singer, and began shouting the lyrics, not even caring if they rhymed, as long as they fell into the beat. "This is December! But there''s no snow! WE ARE IN LA! WHAT KIND OF CHRISTMAS IS THIS?!" The audience was taken aback by this sudden whish, but Tristan continued like nothing happened, returning to the previous festive string-strumming melody. Now he was smiling at the audience and singing with exaggerated cheerfulness. "Santas fill the stores'' shelves, And people rush to buy the gifts. And they won''t tell themselves, That it''s a corporate grift!" Now that Tristan got his inspiration, the rest of the song almost made itself right on in his fingertips. Thanks to the whooping 1724 points in his songwriting skill, Tristan could easily make up rhymes on the fly. It was raw in ces, but it was well-executed, funny and incredibly fresh. There was a powerful rhythm in it, both in harder and softer parts, which made people nod along even while they were grinning andughing. If they knew the words, they would''ve tried to sing along, too! Even when the word Tristan chose wasn''t perfect, or a note could''ve been chosen better, people were so swept away by Tristan''s performance that they barely noticed! When thest chord of Tristan''s song stopped echoing in the hall, people immediately began apuding. [Ding!] [You had incredibly impressed an audience of 2000 people with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] [Ding!] [You had greatly impressed an audience of 48 people of high status and skill with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 1500!] "I will call this song ''Christmas in LA''," Tristan said after the apuse ended. "And I dedicate it to all the people living in the south of the USA who can''t afford a snow resort vacation this Christmas." There were chuckles from the audience again. "Well, Gemello certainly didn''t disappoint us, don''t you agree?" Reba Hale ashed the other judges. "Absolutely!" Montez agreed immediately. "You can hear someck of polish in this song, but after some work it could easily be a hit among the younger audience. I hope you develop it further." Tristan had already nned to. The judges praised him some more, he bowed to the audience, and went to watch the rest of the finalists perform. As expected, they were mostly failures. Some improvised decent songs, but put under the intense pressure of Tristan''s earlier performance, half of them missed their notes entirely, forgot the words, and failed in the most miserable manner! Among the other half, some improvised decent songs, but they didn''t even stand close. The host acted like a ''good cop'', cheering them up, while judgespeted in scathingments and sometimes outright mockery. It was already clear who would be a winner. *** Half an hourter. All the finalists stood on the stage again, waiting for the final verdict. Even second ce would be good enough! There were small cash prises for them, too. "And the first ce, together with the grand prize of $15000, goes to¡­ Tristan Gemello!" Chapter 125: Too late? Tristan stood on the stage with a huge decorative check for $15000, while journalists in the audience made photographs of him for their future headlines. With a smile, he was thanking the audience for being there, and his friend (Nelson) and his manager (Derek) and his talent agency (Golden Talent Group) for supporting him. The Second Identity System shed notifications at him, too. [Ding!] [You have won the 1st spot in the Californian Young Star contest. Your status has increased. Reward: your CP increased by 5000!] [Ding!] [Your Pop-star rank has changed from Contracted Young Star to Adolescent Star! Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] Next to him stood second and third ce winners. Despite his boringst performance, Angelo Omen still earned the third ce, while the second ce went to a pretty and skilled, if not incredibly original, female pop-singer. Tristan should''ve been ecstatic. A part of him was. But for the most part, all he could think of was, ''I have to get out of here and shoot some people while I still have some control of this narrative! If Whitman gets to Martinez while I''m standing here, I will lose my advantage over him. And Whitman mighte for me next¡ªwhy not? He already has a perfect scapegoat!'' Thankfully, since the contest took so long that it was getting dark outside, the celebratory gmemorating the event was going to happen on the next day. After the curtain closed on the stage, parents, managers and other helpers flocked around to bring the contestants away. As Derek came backstage, Tristan saw an older man and woman approach Angelo. The woman immediately began scolding Angelo, but instead of listening, he turned to give Tristan a nk, heavy stare. Tristan gave a slight nod in reply, and Angelo turned away. On their way to the dressing rooms, Derek looked at Tristan with a knowing spark in his eyes. "You made another friend, Mr. Gemello?" "Something like that." Tristan shrugged. "Please, get me Omen''s contact information. His personal number would be the best. I''m unsure if he will evene here to the party tomorrow." "I will do my best. Oh, there were also some people in the audience who wanted to meet you, but¡­ You look exhausted, Mr. Gemello. Maybe we should drive straight to the hotel." Tristan frowned. He was only somewhat tired. Most of the exhaustion was an act. "I don''t think they will let me go so easily. Mr. Derek, please answer their questions in my stead. Distract them, while I sneak ahead, so we could meet in the parking lot." Tristan had already made a n in his head. Instead of going to meet Derek where expected, at the surface parking, he shook off his stage jacket and went to the underground parking where Martinez hid. It wasn''t the best to disappear on Derek and Nel like that, but hopefully it won''t take long to hide Martinez better. "Hm¡­ Yes, that would be for the best. As soon as we move to ces open to the public, you will be under a lot of attention, Mr. Gemello." Derek frowned. "Too bad our security team is still unavable. Everybody I spoke about this to either keep telling me to wait, or tell nothing useful at all. We will have to do things by ourselves¡­" ''I will have to do things by myself,'' Tristan thought. ''At least right now!'' *** Tristan''s n worked out without a hitch. In the process, he turned his Gemello phone off, bing unreachable. In a narrow and quiet alleyway where no one was looking at him, Tristan changed his identity to the criminal one, mercilessly threw his jacket into a dumpster, and went to look for Martinez. On his way there, Tristan contacted his subordinates. Explore more at §Þ?? [Disguise yourself ande to this address. Bring a couple of extra guns for me.] The address was that of the parking garage Tristan was heading to. The multi-level parking garages in this area of Los Angeles were huge, sprawling and creepy things. The vast spaces of concrete created echoes of every car who entered and left. ''This is the nearest parking lot¡­ it should be here, on the lower floor. With how huge this ce is, I hope I can actually find him quickly.'' The lowest level was quiet like a crypt. The cars that stood here looked like they were mostly in long-term parking¡ªpeople who entered and left regrly parked closer to the entrance. There were rows upon rows of them, watched by several cameras. Walking in a path that let him slip between the cameras'' field of views, Tristan looked around intensely. An echo of a dull sound in the distance made him perk up. He hurried up there, but slowed down when he heard an unintelligible conversation. ''Martinez was supposed to be alone. Who is there?'' Tristan peeked from behind another car and saw two men in a distance, holding a third one, who was tied up like a pig. The third man was Martinez! The first sound Tristan heard was the sound of the two men opening a trunk, where they were now throwing Martinez to. The roof of the trunk closed over him with an ominous ng, and the men went to the front seats of the car. ''Shit! At least Martinez is still alive, or they wouldn''t have tied him up. I have to get these two before they drive away!'' Using the parked cars as a cover, Tristan dashed toward the kidnappers'' car, pulling out his knife on the way. In his head, he was cursing theck of time to prepare. He could improve something with his system¡ªhe had the points to spare. But Tristan only had time for one thing. ''What will be the most useful at the moment? Shit, and I don''t even have a gun on me! Status!'' As the status panel opened in front of Tristan, the engine of the kidnappers'' car revved to life. He had no time at all! Chapter 126: A rescuer Tiny rows of letters floated in Tristan''s eyesight. [======] [Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)] [Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.] [Pop-star rank: Adolescent Star.] [Criminal rank: Made Man.] [Pop-star Points: 540] [Criminal Points: 15860] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 250] [Charisma: 240] [Fearsomeness: 436] [Strength: 223] [Dexterity: 228] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] ¡­ Tristan didn''t read farther. He had to tap twice to hit the ''strength'' button¡ªthe first timended on toughness. Tap, tap, slide of a bar¡ªthe resulting number wasn''t even, but Tristan didn''t have the time to care. [Ding!] [Strength attribute increased from 223 to 679.] [Ding!] [As a result of attribute changes, your appearance attribute increased by 10, and your fearsomeness attribute increased by 40.] Tristan''s muscles hardened like they were braided from steel wire and hydraulics. His next push of a foot suddenly made him lunge for a good two meters forward, pulling him out of his cover. He immediately felt the weight of a pair of eyes on him. Now that he was only a few meters away from the kidnappers'' car, he could see them in detail. Two men, both about the same height. The one in the driver''s seat was older and shaved bald, with bulging biceps open by his rolled-up sleeves. The one in the shotgun seat was lean, but sat poised like a wary and aggressive animal. Tristan''s eyes met the wary man''s in the side-view mirror. "Look out¡ª!" the wary man shouted. In two more jumps, each of them steadier than the previous one as Tristan became rapidly used to his new strength, he reached the starting up car from the wary man''s side. Tristan jerked the car''s door open with so much force that he heard something break in it. On the other side, the wary man was already pulling a gun on him. Another reason Tristan acted so quickly. The moment slowed down and stretched on, but this time, Tristan barely needed his ''Bullet Time'' talent to orient himself. Before the wary man had time to aim his gun, Tristan reached out and broke his wrist with a single twist of his arm. The man cried out in pain, but the next thing Tristan did was grab the man''s head and mming it into the car''s side. There was a loud crack of a broken skull, and when the corpse slid down, the car''s dashboard had a deep, bloody dent. "Shit! Gary!" the bald kidnapper shouted. By this time, he also pulled out his gun, and even had enough time to aim it at Tristan. The time slowed down again. Tristan dove to the ground, hiding behind the corpse and the car seat from the shot that flew over his head a momentter. The bullet went through a car parked several meters behind him, breaking a window and causing it to erupt with shrieks of an rm. Tristan picked the dead man''s gun from the ground, checked in a blink of an eye, and shot the bald man in the throat before he could change his aim. Pouring blood from the hole in his neck, the man fell back in his seat. There''d be dead silence in this moment, if not for the car rm in the background and the faint thumpsing from the trunk. Continue your journey on §Þ?? Tristan stood up and shook stray flickers of blood from his clothes. ''At least I don''t have to worry about cleaning myself up. Too bad I didn''t have the time to leave one of them alive for an interrogation. I still have to deal with Martinez.'' Now that the adrenaline was leaving his body, Tristan noticed how it was aching. Soles of his feet hurt from pushing so hard on the hard concrete of the garage, and his joints hurt from moving so harshly. ''It looks like all that incredible strength is too much for my body. I should put points into toughness and dexterity, too. But first things first.'' Tristan pushed his aches aside and went to open the truck''s car. From inside, gagged and tied up, Martinez looked at him with huge eyes. Tristan smirked at the sight. The man was a potential ally, but watching him suffer after all the condescending remarks toward Tristan was still very satisfying. "Maybe I should move you to the safehouse like that, hm, Martinez? You don''t like that? It would certainly teach you to act with more respect, though." Martinez mumbled something in his gag. Despite everything, he refused to plead, but he at least lowered his head in submission. [Ding!] [You have earned respect of a person of high skill. Reward: your PP increased by 500!] With a sigh, Tristan pulled out his knife and began cutting Martinez''s ropes, until the man could shrug them off and get out of the trunk. Then he pulled out his gag, coughed a little, and said, "Ha¡ªI mean, Mr. Hayes, we must get moving. I heard these two reporting their position to their boss. If he doesn''t hear from them soon, more people wille here. Your cousin told you about my, um, proposal already, right?" "Yes, he told me everything. We can talk in more detailter. More people will be here soon, because of this." Tristan gestured at the crime scene. There were no cameras this deep in the garage¡ªthey were only put near the entrance, clearly to save money¡ªbut someone was bound toe to check the rm noise. "Let''s get ourselves a vehicle for now," Tristan muttered, approaching the nearest not broken machine. It was a boring gray semi-truck, perfect for his purposes. Tristan opened his status panel again and began tapping. [Ding!] [Lockpicking skill increased from 1 to 1001.]. It was easier to put a round number into a skill than to measure. ''More is better. Just in case.'' Tristan was low on tools, after all. But he had a knife and his keyring. He took the ring, easily straightened it with his strength, and used it as a poor, makeshift lockpick. The lock on the semi-truck''s door fell in moments. Tristan''s skill let him work with the experience of a professional. Hot-wiring the car didn''t take long, either. Now Tristan knew how to do it. "You will drive," Tristan told Martinez. "I need to make some calls in the meantime." Chapter 127: The end of a very long day Thirty minutester. After dropping the stolen car a block away and some walking, Tristan and Martinez stopped in a dimly lit alleyway in front of a back door of a department store. The store was already closed, and there were no signs of anyone being inside. "Why are we in this ce, Mr. Hayes?" Martinez asked. Tristan typed and sent a text message, then put away his phone and looked up at him. "That''s the best hiding ce for you for the next while. It''s not associated with me, so you should be in the clear. You and my own people." "This store?" Martinez frowned. Tristan smiled. "It''s owned by locals who agreed to do me this favor. Which is all you need to know for now, Martinez. Rest, heal. I have urgent things to take care of besides helping you out. In the meantime, think long and hard how YOU can help me back." The door in front of them suddenly opened from the inside. On the other side stood Owen, whose eyes widened at the sight of both Tristan and Martinez. Seeing no threat, he lowered the gun in his hand and gestured for them to enter. Tristan gestured for Martinez to go in. "Owen, tell the team to keep an eye on Mr. Martinez, but treat him with respect. Message me if anything else pops up." "Yes, boss." Martinez turned to Tristan. "You¡­ that''s what you came to Los Angeles for, really, isn''t it? To gather your own allies? I knew this was¡ª" He caught himself. "Well, I''m d to understand your motives better, Mr. Hayes." Tristan frowned, but let it pass for now. Martinez was the kind of man who wore his likes and dislikes on his face. An honest man, in a way. But his loyalties were tighter than surface-level emotions like these, and Tristan could respect that. In fact, Tristan felt much better about Martinez now than in the past, when the other underboss appeared to be just a contrary old man who spit poison at every opportunity. Humbling him a bit felt nice, even if it wasn''t Tristan who did it. ''We still need to have a serious conversation, but it can wait. Good thing that Vargas agreed to give me this ce''s backrooms to use as a shelter, and on such a short notice. I should repay him somehow.'' Tristan had already told his subordinates to give Vargas some money out of those they all brought to Los Angeles, but Tristan thought about something more like a gift. Now Tristan''s subordinates and Martinez were safely hidden for now, Tristan actually had time to n hiseback at Whitman and the police. There was only one small thing to deal with. Making sure that he felt no weight of anyone''s eyes on him, Tristan took off his earing, changing his identity to Gemello again. Then Tristan left the alleyway and walked in a random direction under the starless night sky and the endless lights of the never-sleeping city. Soon enough, he stumbled upon an empty bench. He fell onto it, barely checking if the seat was clean, feeling mentally and physically drained. Tristan pulled out his Gemello phone, turned it on, saw all the missed calls, and sighed. He had toe up with something believable, or he will never be left alone after this. Actually, he probably won''t be left alone, anyway. Tristan finally called Derek. It picked almost immediately. "Mr. Gemello!" the manager''s voice was full of immense relief. "My God, are you alright? You just disappeared, and all calls fell through! What happened?" It was incredibly rare to see the usually collected manager so rmed. Tristan grimaced. However, when he spoke, Tristan''s voice was light-hearted, as if nothing serious had happened. "Funny story, that. I had to get away from some rabid fan or maybe a mugger, and got lost in the city after that. Then my phone died on me¡­ But I found the charger now, so it''s all cool. Anyway, there weren''t any problems with the people from the CYS contest, right? I''m gonna call for a taxi next, go straight to the hotel and crash right into the bed." On the other side of the call, in a lobby hall of the Orpheum Theater, Derek rubbed his forehead with a long-suffering sigh. All that time Nelson was leaning over Derek''s shoulder and listening to every word he could catch in the still pretty crowded and noisy ce. They both were blissfully unaware of a starting police investigation of a twin murdered just half a kilometer away from this building, but they had other problems. Now Nelson chortled. "I told you, Mr. Derek! No way Tris got into REAL trouble. He just knows what he''s doing." Derek moved his head and the phone away from Nelson. "Mr. Gemello, then we will meet in the hotel. Please, stay away from trouble today. We still have a g to visit tomorrow, and you know how important it will be for your career. That''s the real prize for your efforts." "Of course. Don''t worry, Mr. Derek." When Tristan ended the call, Derek turned toward Nelson. "His self-assurance, in a way, only makes me worry more. Because he knows what he''s doing, while we don''t! No matter how good he is with music, and even in other things, he could still get into an ident, or¡­" Derek shook his head. "And right when his career is really about to start! That song will definitely be a hit in the charts. As soon as Tristan releases his first album, he will be a multimillionaire!" Nelson grinned. "Yeah, he''s amazing like that. Just listening to his music motivates me to work harder on my own album." Derek smiled. "It''s so refreshing to see an attitude like yours in our industry, Mr. Mayar¡­ I hope you won''t lose it. You and Mr. Gemello make a powerful duo with his forcefulness and your gentleness." Discover stories at §Þ?? As Derek and Nelson also moved toward their shared hotel, the long day was approaching its end. But not for Tristan. Chapter 128: No rest for the wicked It was much easier to convince Derek and Nel in person that the incident with his disappearance wasn''t worth fretting about. However, it began giving Tristan an unpleasant feeling. He could tell both of them were genuinely worried for him, and he didn''t like causing that worry. ''It''s alright. No harm was done, and they will forget about it in no time. I will just try to be more careful in the future with the criminal part of my career. Perhaps I should do what the boss of Angulos did and spend more time ruling people from afar instead of dealing with things personally.'' Well, that was a nice idea to think about. Too bad that at the moment, Tristan had no choice. When everybody was asleep, he sat on a bed in his hotel room with aptop on one side and his status open on the other. [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Adolescent Star.] [Criminal rank: Made Man.] [Pop-star Points: 1040] [Criminal Points: 10300] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 260] [Charisma: 240] [Fearsomeness: 476] [Strength: 679] [Dexterity: 228] [Toughness: 144] [===Skills===] [Singing: 1857] [Dancing: 1079] [ying guitar: 2096] [Music theory: 680] [Music production: 523] [Acting: 1315] [Songwriting: 1724] [Voice control: 811] [Stage presence: 1223] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [ying flute: 1] [ying violin: 1] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1224] [Observation: 2076] [Driving: 618] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 816] [Athletics: 419] [Treating injuries: 201] [Lockpicking: 1001] [Combat analysis: 505] [Hacking: 2431] [Governing: 454] [Torture: 2] [Logistics: 4] [Forgery: 1] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [Bullet Time] [Hypnotic Voice] [Sight Awareness] [Electronic Sight Awareness] [Ambidextrous] [Bilingual (Spanish)] [======] First of all, Tristan had to even out his attributes to not be too strong for his own good. ''I think¡­ having 600 in each will be enough.'' He tapped the necessary buttons. [Ding!] [Dexterity attribute increased from 228 to 600.] [Ding!] [Toughness attribute increased from 144 to 600.] [Ding!] [As a result of attribute changes, your appearance attribute increased by 10, and your charisma attribute improved by 5.] Tristan''s body changed again. He felt a wave of electricity go through him as his bones became denser and his entire body hummed with a new vitality that washed away his previous aches. His ligaments and joints felt like someone dipped them in oil, and Tristan''s sense of bnce improved, too. He felt incredibly aware of his body, as if he was drunk, but became sober in an instant. He stood up and stretched for a moment, smiling. Now his body truly felt in bnce. Although it was barely noticeable from the outside perspective, it could be seen in the smoothness of Tristan''s movements. After that Tristan had 2020 Criminal Points left, but he kept them on hand for now. Who knew? Next time he might need to improve his forgery skill all of the sudden. ''Now, if only my business for today ended with spending system points,'' Tristan thought. ''But I''m unsure if I will have a moment of rest for the night.'' Even if Tristan didn''t need sleep, he was still mentally tired right now. A big part of him wanted nothing more than to lie down and scroll through memes and celebrity gossip online. It wasn''t just because Tristan had been so busy today, but because he was working hard for months at this point, living two lives in parallel. Even 8 extra hours he won by not sleeping sometimes proved to be not enough. But Tristan pushed his mental exhaustion aside and pulled out hisptop and his Hayes phone. During the day, he received several reports from his underlings, which he didn''t have the time to deal with before. A part of them was business as usual, while the most recent ones were rming, mentioning the strange activity of Whitman''s people, although nothing too suspicious without hindsight. Tristan was reading the reports when Kevin called him directly, proving that the mafia didn''t sleep at night, and that there was no rest for the wicked. "Yes?" "Mr. Hayes! I hope I didn''t wake you up. People sent after Martinez just got news about his location¡ªhe''s in Los Angeles. I''m afraid he might try to kill you before he got killed himself." Tristan huffed. "It''s betterte than never, I guess. Who else knows this?" Kevin was puzzled by Tristan''s nonchnt attitude, but knew better than to question his boss. "Mr. Whitman shared with the other underbosses, as well as me, since I was acting in your stead. Mr. von wanted to bring more forces into the city to catch Mr. Martinez, but Whitman convinced him that those already sent will be enough." "And how many are those?" "Officially, there were ten. But I''m afraid Whitman might''ve sent more. Something strange is happening." "It absolutely does. And what happens with Martinez''s people in the meantime?" "They were all put under house arrest so they wouldn''t help their boss because of misced loyalty, at least until Martinez was dealt with. It''s still unclear whether any of them helped him." Tristan nodded to himself. "Kevin, pass orders to Tomas. I need a dozen people with guns in Los Angeles by tomorrow, and I want it done quietly. Quietly means that not even Mr. von should know." There was a pause. "I understand, Mr. Hayes. You think that, perhaps¡­ Martinez was set up, and a police mole is still within our ranks?" Tristan smirked. "Well, I''m sure I don''t act under Mr. von''s nose because I want to overthrow him or something, Kevin." On the other side of the call, Kevin chose to just ignore this and do as he was told. Kevin was tired, and Hayes also sounded tired. Even gangsters were just people. "And keep me informed about any more people sent into Los Angeles," Tristan added. "Yes, Mr. Hayes. Is that all?" "Yes." Tristan ended the call, but soon enough, started another. Using the web of insignificant and semi-significant contacts he umted during his stay in Los Angeles, Tristan began reaching out to bosses of the Los Angeles gangs. Chapter 129: A dance in time of plague Next day. Another hall, another g¡ªmore luxurious than the ones Tristan had been in before, but not much different. Women in dresses that sit skin-tight on their chests and flow down their hips. Men in suits. Tables with snacks and champagne. ''Pieces are moving, and I can''t even take a call. How annoying¡­ I hope my subordinates don''t mess up,'' Tristan thought. He was standing with a ss of sparkling water in a shade where his ck suit blended with a darker pattern on the wall. It didn''t make Tristan fully invisible, but invisible enough to give him a breather from people wanting his attention. There were so many of them! Journalists, celebrities, various entrepreneurs wanting to scam Tristan into taking part in their projects almost for free. In no time, there were going to be people with actually good projects, but the scammers had to work fast before their targets were fresh and young in showbiz. Even now, as Tristan took a breather from the world, men and women in the hall threw intrigue and curious looks at him. In these circumstances, Tristan''s unapproachable air only added mysteriousness and charm to him. He was smiling slightly, but not in a friendly way¡ªjust a show to not look too sour. Together with his perfectly handsome face and lean but steely muscles faintly visible under Tristan''s suit, he certainly was going to be an object of fantasies of many people present. Tristan was sure, because earlier he got 1500 Criminal Points just from impressing people with his looks and charms. One person dared to move away from the crowd to join Tristan near the wall. "You seem out of sorts today, Tris." Tristan turned his head toward Nel. Of course, it would be his best friend who could see something like this. "Why would you think that, Nel?" Nelson waved at him and his ss. "Because otherwise you wouldn''t be here. You''d be out there, chatting up more people and making more girls swoon. You even asked Mr. Derek to listen to all the interview requests instead of doing it yourself, even though I know how much you love that shit! So, what''s on your mind?" Tristan scoffed. "I don''t know. Maybe I got ill with something? Maybe it''s low blood pressure." The lie sounded believable even to himself when Tristan told it. Nelson frowned. "If you are feeling bad, man, go rest! Don''t push yourself. You are the star of the show¡ªthese people are the ones who should chase you, not the other way around!" Tristan shook his head. Nel''s presence reminded Tristan that he already did all he could for his subordinates. People who needed to stay low stayed low. People who needed to be talked with were talked with. Meetings were arranged. Vargas had already promised to keep an eye on police activity as much as he could. Within the next week, Tristan nned to give the local gang leaders an offer they wouldn''t be able to refuse. After that, he was going to take this problem to its root. "Nel, don''t you get it yet? In showbiz, sensationsst less time than a piece of meat left to lie unrefrigerated on a hot summer day! If I don''t make these people remember me now, by tomorrow they will start forgetting." With these words, Tristan moved away from the wall, followed by Nel. "Eh, I get the hustle, but if you get even more sick¡­ Well, you won''t be happy!" Nel chuckled and shook his head. "Or will you just say ''was worth it''?" "Thetter," Tristan threw back. "I can lie down sick all I want AFTER I''m done here." For now, he best forget his other careerpletely, be social and mingle. As if on cue, the ambient music yed by a small live orchestra changed to a ssic waltz tune. People gathered on a dance floor at a far end of the hall in pairs to dance. That''s where Tristan went, too. Nel stopped at the edge of the dance floor. "I wish I knew how to dance fancy dances like these. Oh, y them all, Tris!" "Sure," Tristan grinned at him and scanned the crowd for a fitting partner. His eyes quickly fell on Mary Jade. The contest''s special guest and a fashion icon, dressed in a sparkling gossamer sky blue dress, was surrounded by three men and seemed to be enjoying taking her pick of them for the dance. Mary Jade was a beautiful woman, but Tristan wasn''t interested in her. However, dancing with her will certainly elevate him in the eyes of other socialites. Tristan scanned hispetition. He already knew most of these people, because they had introduced themselves to him earlier in the day, or because they were pointed out to him by someone. A somewhat well-known singer, an older businessman from a musicalbel, and a young, posh man Tristan didn''t know. A rich heir, perhaps. ''I''m better than any of them,'' Tristan thought, confidently walking up to Mary Jade. His poise and fearsomeness exuded an aura that pushed other men away, almost like it was a physical bubble around him. Yet the smoldering gaze Tristan directed at Mary Jade was full of unspoken promises. When she caught it, her breath caught in her throat, and she couldn''t look away. "Ms. Jade, may I take this dance?" Tristan asked, as if all the other people weren''t here. "Of course," Mary said immediately. Her heart beat faster. The other three men were blown away without a chance to resist! They could only look at Tristan, shocked speechless by the way he carried himself. ''How can he WALK like THAT?!'' ''He just ignored us like we were ants next to him! Now I actually feel like an ant! I might start crying now¡­'' ''M-miss Jade¡­ No way she can like me when there are people like Tristan Gemello around¡­'' [Ding!] [You have pped the faces of three people of moderate status. Reward: your CP increased by 600.] Ignoring the notification, Tristan led Mary to the dance floor, intending to show off himself with her to everybody. ''The hardest part will be to try not to make her actually think that I''m smitten with her! Last thing I want is to bother with her offense when she realizes I''m not.'' Chapter 130: The rival returns From the moment Tristan took her hand to lead in the waltz, Mary Jade couldn''t stop looking at him. Although she was stunned by his soulful singing at the stage, the force of his personality was ten times as strong from up close. She was absolutely maized. Her mind of an artist already imagined all the costumes Tristan could wear for his next performance, while her mind of a woman imagined him without a costume. Tristan knew perfectly well how to dance several variations of waltz and plenty of othermon dances. Mary Jade knew just enough to look stylish in her dress while twirling around and not step on anyone''s toes. But with his level of skill, Tristan led her around the dance floor with effortless grace, enchanting her even more. Mary was half a head shorter than him, and her sky blue dress was a beautiful contrast to Tristan''s ck suit. It all just made him look more attractive, especially to the eyes of women who already looked at him with smitten eyes. Now Tristan was especially desirable because he already had someone else, even if just for one dance. His sheer presence was so distracting that half the time Tristan approached another pair of dancers to close, someone would trip or step on their partner''s legs! All the while, Tristan himself barely looked at Mary, instead subtly examining other dancers and people who gathered to just watch the dance. And plenty of them, instead of looking at their partners or Tristan, were watching another person instead. Thest man whom Tristan expected to dance today¡ªAngelo Omen. The statue-like man, dressed in a in white suit, was dancing without a partner at all. His eyes were half-closed, and his hands were raised as if he held someone''s shoulders, but there was only empty air. Despite this, he moved with the same perfectly measured elegance he had when ying music. Whether or not it was his intention, Angelo''s shocking disy turned plenty of heads, stealing Tristan''s spotlight. And when people saw the way he mimed every motion, creating an almost visible illusion of a partner¡ªto the point where someone could easily tell that the imaginary woman was a head shorter than him¡ªthey were drawn to keep watching. If some just waited for Angelo to make a misstep, or outright snickered at this oundish disy. The disy was so strange that Tristan couldn''t find in himself to be offended or annoyed that this man became his rival once again, even in this trivial matter. Instead, Tristan was just trying to understand what was going in Angelo''s head! ''This looks like a performance, but doesn''t Angelo dislike those? As well as talking to people. I bet he''s only here because he was pressured toe by his parents! But if they pressured him to dance, won''t they bring a partner for that as well?'' Tristan was thinking so hard that he almost didn''t notice when the song ended and the pairs split up. [Ding!] [You had impressed an audience of 24 people of moderate and high status or skill with your dance. Reward: your CP increased by 900.] There were at least fifty people dancing and many more than that watching. It was arge g. If not for Angelo, Tristan could''ve impressed more people. He bowed slightly to Mary Jade with a roguish grin. "Thank you for the dance, Ms. Jade. Now excuse me, I want to talk with an acquaintance." "Of course. You''ve been a wonderful partner, Mr. Gemello. I hope we will be able to meet again in the future. I''d love to have you as my fashion model even if only for a night¡­" Mary said meaningfully. Despite the flirting and the innuendos in her heart, Mary already knew she wasn''t getting Tristan. Not after he spent most of the dance looking anywhere but at her. With a slight sigh, Mary looked around for the second-most-handsome person around. At the same time, Tristan was standing at the edge of the dance floor and looking like he was waiting for Tristan. "Mr. Gemello," Angelo said at Tristan''s approach. "I hoped to meet you again." Tristan grinned. Of course he would. Tristan still owed Angelo money¡ªif only because he couldn''t pay it discreetly until now. "I thought so, Mr. Omen. Let''s speak a bit more privately, then?" Tristan nodded toward several small balconies, which were partially hidden from the people inside with half-transparent curtains. "Let''s," Angelo said. On their way there, Tristan waved Nel in a gesture that tranted from bro-code to "Have fun on your own, please!". Then Tristan and Angelo took an empty balcony, which was just big enough for apany of two or three people. Several stories below them was a beautiful green garden of the luxurious hotel where this g took ce. "I remember my promise, Mr. Omen. In fact¡­ Here." In a subtle gesture, which won''t be seen from both the g hall and from the garden, Tristan passed Angelo a thick leather wallet. "Twenty thousand dors. By the way, next time I suggest that you ask for at least a part of payment in advance, Mr. Omen." Angelo hid the wallet in an inner pocket of his suit jacket. It bulged slightly, but not too much. "Thank you for the advice." "By the way¡­ Were you dancing by yourself earlier because you like to dance, but would hate to actually dance with someone?" Angelo blinked, which was probably the most shocked he could appear. "Yes. I like waltz. The orchestra ying today were all good performers, even if the violinist wasn''t putting his all into the act. But I don''t like being touched." Tristan grinned, happy that he guessed it right. Angelo tilted his head slightly. "This is the first time I find a person who understands me so well after knowing me for such a short time. And you are an exceptionally talented musician. May we still stay in touch after today?" Tristan tilted his head, too. ''Understand him? I''m just guessing blindly! This man has no tells! Was this an offering of friendship? Does Angelo consider me my friend? I really don''t know!'' Chapter 131: A meeting with yet another gang leader "Stay in touch¡ªsure. You can have my phone number," Tristan said. ''It never hurts to have talented people as your acquaintances. They might be useful,'' he thought. "I''m d," Angelo said without even a hint of a smile and turned toward the garden. They stood in an awkward silence for half a minute until Tristan realized Angelo had finished the conversation. Tristan sighed and went to the balcony door. "Enjoy the view, Omen." There was no reply. The rest of the party went uneventfully, except for a minor scandal between two men, one of which found his girlfriend getting too close and personal with another on a balcony. But at least that wasn''t Tristan''s problem. *** Next day. Tristan officially had a small vacation. He didn''t even need to ask¡ªDerek actually approached him first and told him to get some rest in Los Angeles, while the manager would sort through all the offers and invitations sent to Tristan. In a week, Tristan will have to return to his city and record his singles and release an album and perform on a tour and so on and so forth¡ªpop-star routine. He had a week left to squeeze Los Angeles like he wanted to. "I think I want to be on my own¡­ You know how it is¡ªa change of circumstances, a change of faces. Maybe I will just drive around or hit a bar or two, I don''t know," Tristan told Derek. "You probably won''t see me often in the meantime. I might not evene at night if I party too hard, so don''t worry." Derek fought not to sigh. "Alright¡­ You won''t take Mr. Mayar with you?" "Well, he still needs to do his recording, doesn''t he?" Tristan chuckled. "Wouldn''t want to distract him." With that convenient excuse and a "disguise"¡ªa pair of sunsses and a basic outfit of jeans and a rock band T-shirt¡ªTristan escaped this part of his life to fully focus on another. He drove his car to the second apartment he rented in this city, one that was rented for himself and left unused until now. There, Tristan switched identity to his criminal one, and checked his text messages. Status reports showed only good news: there were no attacks on his people and his reinforcements were already in the city, staying in a discreet motel and waiting orders. Also, one of the gang leaders Tristan wanted to talk about was already prepared to meet him. And not just anyone. From the information Tristan had, his gang, Bluebirds, had been the one most involved with the sea trade. Next news was worse. From the information sent by Vargas, the Los Angeles police was organizing a major operation, and although there were very few details, it was definitely aimed against gangs. ''I have to hurry. And to achieve that¡­'' Tristan opened his status panel. [Ding!] [Charisma attribute increased from 245 to 345.] [Ding!] [Fearsomeness attribute increased from 476 to 876.] He spent 1000 PP and 4000 CP improving his attributes. The aura of love and fear Tristan projected without even trying grew, slowly turning into something borderline supernatural. It would be eerie to anyone looking at him, but Tristan himself was unaware of that change, because he was in the eye of his own storm. ''With my voice, it should be enough to intimidate the local gangsters into submission, even if they will be hostile at first. And for those who disagree, I have men, guns, and men with guns.'' *** Two hourster. This part of the city was rows and rows of almost identical warehouses. The noises of truck engines and industrial machines created a background of constant noise in which a small shootout could disappear with ease. Tristan walked up to a warehouse with a blue W-shaped bird painted on the side of it, and an address he was given earlier. Behind him were four of his most loyal men: Trey, Owen, Cutout and Sam, all eager to stretch their legs. They were all wearing shades and various hats to disguise their faces, which made them look somewhat like tourists. In front of him was a man dressed like a warehouse worker, leaning on a wall near the entrance. There was an unlit cigarette in his mouth, creating the illusion that he was on a smoke break, and a gun in his pocket. "Mr. Hayes, please,e in¡ªalone." A basic show of force. Tristan didn''t even hesitate with a response. "No. If you wanted me toe alone, you should''ve chosen a different ce. Now open the gate." Tristan spoke matter-of-factly, but with an absolute assurance that his orders will be obeyed. His voice burrowed into the guard''s nervous system before it reached his consciousness. He reached for the gate''s remote before he even thought to protest! After that, all he could do was try to save face by pretending he never said anything at all. A gate opened a fraction¡ªwide enough for Tristan''s group to enter. Inside really was a warehouse¡ªa massive one, with rows of containers and shelves. The main pathway was wide enough for a car to pass. When Tristan''s group walked in, the gate closed behind them. Ten meters ahead of the entrance stood a dozen men who could''ve passed for ordinary workers if not for the guns under their clothes. They created a semi-circle around their leader¡ªa tall, middle-aged man with a short ck beard and hair gathered in a ponytail. Like his subordinates, he was dressed into clothes fitting for an ordinary worker¨Cor a sailor. But he projected an aura of a leader, just like Tristan had. The leader of Bluebirds, mostly known as Sea Devil. All Tristan found about his real name was ''Damien''. At Tristan''s approach, he grinned broadly. "Mr. Hayes! What an honor to meet you. I hope you really didn''te to threaten me with that pitiful posse of yours," Sea Devil gestured at Tristan''s crew. Tristan walked to afortable talking distance and stopped. There was nothing but confidence in his features, but inwardly¡­ Inwardly, he was confused as hell! ''That man¡­ His face, his voice¡ªwhy does he look EXACTLY like Asher Ilom?!'' Chapter 132: Sea Devil and a land devil For a moment, Tristan wondered if Asher Ilom, the strangely antisocial film director, also had a second identity as a crime boss. However, Sea Devil''s beard was definitely real, and Ilom didn''t have a beard. And after looking closer, Tristan could see more slight differences, like several tiny moles spread across Sea Devil''s face, or the scars on his knuckles. Either Sea Devil was just a person who coincidentally looked exactly like Asher Ilom¡ªor a brother, or even an identical twin. ''I can''t do anything with this guess unless I have the facts, which I don''t. But even a guess can be worth a lot. The information I have on him only said that he''s reckless and ruthless, but cunning, effective and mostly fair. His people respect him, and other gangs are cautious of Bluebirds.'' "Mr. Sea Devil. Or do you prefer being called Damien?" Tristan said before he stood still for too long. "I hope you didn''t invite me here just to gun me down. That won''t work for you, anyway." Tristan and his people not only had weapons but also bulletproof vests under their clothes. The gear brought by Tristan''s reinforcements was ufortable, but it made Tristan much surer about himself. His analytical skills were already calcting shooting trajectories. Half of Sea Devil''s people didn''t have a clear line of shot because he stood in front of them. In case of a fight, Tristan and his crew could shoot much more effectively¡­ although that fight won''t end without losses on his side. Sea Devil narrowed his eyes. "Call me whatever you want, Mr. Hayes. I see the rumors aren''t lying. ''Handsome like the devil, alluring like a siren, terrifying like the deep sea things that never see sunlight,'' they say. And you already convinced Vargas to wag his tail for you like a dog. Well, well, well, I''d like to see you work your charms on me!" He spread his arms wide with cockiness. From what Tristan could see, this man really was a tougher nut than Vargas, even if Vargas wasn''t convinced by Evelyn. Damien was a risk taker, a reckless person who''d look death in the face with a grin. He''d be hard to scare, and as for charming¡ªpeople like him rarely liked anyone but themselves. The only reason Damien invited Tristan is clearly to mock him and then probably kill him! But people like Damien respected guts. "Vargas works with me, because he sees where the profit is," Tristan said. "Don''t you want to be free to work your shipping business without brushing elbows with other gangs?" "Ha! What kind of work that''d be if I didn''t have to shoot someone on asion? Try better." Tristan''s words didn''t affect Damien at all. He frowned inwardly. ''With each word he says, I understand him better, but I need to put him off-bnce before I can push him. Soften him up.'' Tristan''s observation skills worked on overdrive, analyzing Damien''s weaknesses through every detail of the surroundings. But there wasn''t much. Despite that, Tristan put on a dagger-like smirk. He would just try until he hit something¡ªor do things by force, after all. With that smirk, the subtle aura of fearsomeness around Tristan grew more pronounced, and it almost seemed that the light in the warehouse dimmed a little. Suddenly, Tristan appeared scary on apletely different level¡ªa level couldn''t be exined by rational means anymore! It made people uneasy just staying in the same room with him. "So you are perfectly content staying in your own little nest until someone seeds in putting a bullet between your eyes? You seem much more ambitious." Damien''s eyes widened, but his posture didn''t change. He was scared like all the others, but he pushed through it. "Exactly. I will be a ruler of this city, not you, Hayes. It''s only a matter of time. And you are just a rival I have to deal with. It doesn''t matter how scary your mug is, if you are all bark and no bite!" A wave of tension flew over the area, as people began subtly reaching for guns (many¡ªwith shaking hands) after Damien''s threatening words. However, when the man himself didn''t make aggressive movements, people began to rx. "Try again, Hayes. One more time! Show something worthwhile!" Inwardly, Tristan gasped. ''This is it. It doesn''t matter how scared Daniel is, because he was ready for this. It only makes him more dangerous!'' Suddenly, he let his shoulders drop. His posture rxed and his smile became soft. In an instant, he stopped looking like a prowling serial killer from a horror story. Instead, he looked just like a handsome young man who could be anyone''s friend. The sudden change of attitude was akin to a bucket of cold water sshed on people''s heads. Damien froze for a moment, and Tristan immediately seized this opportunity. He walked right toward Damien, ignoring the way he and his people tensed, like he was an animal trainer entering a tiger''s cage. It was risky. Every moment could be considered an act of aggression, worthy of gunning Tristan down. But when Tristan approached like that, with nothing but friendliness in his movements and on his features, he didn''t seem threatening enough to raise weapons against! As he walked, Tristan spoke, "You are so intent on being my enemy, Damien. Intent on being everybody''s enemy. In my city, people know they live not in boats separated by a wide sea, but in a stone jungle where you must gather inrger andrger packs to survive and thrive." Eventually, the brains of Damien and his people will catch up with them and they would realize that this was just a trick¡ªbut they were too distracted by Tristan''s hypnotic voice to act yet. Tristan stopped right in front of Damien, tense like a confused predator, and reached out with his palm. An offer of a handshake. "You n to conquer this city. I n to conquer this country, and maybe the world. So, for thest time¡ªinstead of being my enemy, would you rather be my friend, Damien?" Chapter 133: More friends Confidence, a charismatic smile, a knowing glint in the eye and apelling voice¡ªwould that be enough to sway the opinion of the Sea Devil? Until this moment, Damien thought they wouldn''t. He never even BELIEVED in charisma before¡ªin real-life stories of politics and cult leaders who convinced people to do the craziest things just with the force of their personality. Damien''s men followed him because there was power and money behind him, and because Damien mostly won his gambles. Tristan Hayes¡­ from Damien''s sources, he certainly had the skills and the moxie to be a leader. And that charisma. And that moxie again. Damien stared down at the offered hand and chuckled. "Any of my men and myself could have shot you ten times over already." Tristan kept smiling. "You keep saying these words, Damien, but nobody even pulled out a gun yet. Is changing your mind really worse for you than hesitation?" "No, of course not. People who don''t change their minds when new threats appear end up dead. People who don''t hesitate stay alive. But you know all this, or you wouldn''t have put it this way, Hayes." Quick like lightning, Damien pped Tristan''s hand like a horizontal high-five. "Friends! Now do tell me, what''s your n, Hayes? With that big head of yours, you already must have one!" Tristan nodded. He didn''t rx yet, but his smile became more genuine¡ªalthough it made no visual difference. He knew that despite Damien''s agreement for now; the man wasn''t really trusting him, or being friends with him. He was just intrigued enough to investigate peacefully. "With the gangs united, we can improve the logistics of traded goods over the ground immensely¡ªand with King Lion Gang''s resources, we can start selling our own things back. I will dly tell you more¡ªbut somewhere more convenient, perhaps?" *** After an hour of Tristan sharing his ns and ideas about getting more money from Los Angeles, he and Damien established a solid rapport. Despite his appearances, Damien was quite cautious¡ªbut not in a way that made him pass on good opportunities. Instead, his cautiousness made him to be almost intuitively aware of dangers. With Damien and Vargas on Tristan''s side, convincing other local gangsters to join his cause was much easier. Two were a pair, but three were a collective, and it was clear who had the power here. In a week, Tristan made two more small gang bosses into his "friends": a gaunt "Skull" James who ruled over "James'' Boys" and Victor of the "First Day Army". James and his boys were a bunch of junkies who survived thanks to their leader''s animal instincts¡ªtrash, but somewhat trainable. The First Day Army thought they had an ideology, but it could be summarized that "might makes right". Tristan just needed to punch Victor in the face in front of his people to give him no other choice but to fight back (with his fists!) or follow, because his people would follow the stronger man. Victor tried to fight back, but Tristan hit him until he realized he had no chances. Tristan also shot one particrly unreasonable gang boss¡ªunreasonably believing in his invulnerability¡ªdead. Which sent its own message. The remains of the dead man''s gang quickly split apart. By the end of the week, Tristan had enough people and resources on his side to make even Leon von think twice if he wanted to fight them. The gangs Tristan united, when put together, were as big as the part of Cuatro Angulos which the King Lion Gang kicked out of the city. Even if the alliances were still tentative, and most of these people weren''t loyal to him specifically yet (they just followed their leaders, who followed Tristan''s generous promises), Tristan had enough for a show of force. But very little time remaining. To smoothen his rtions with these people, and to prove that he had more than words, Tristan had to pay money. Which weren''t infinite. And soon, he would have to leave Los Angeles. But before that, he nned to make his move. *** The living room of the apartment Tristan rented for himself was barely big enough to fit all the people present here today. He gathered all his important allies here, in secret, for the next step of his n. Martinez¡ªstill in dad''s-wear¡ªwas sitting in a corner of a couch, frowning at Vargas, who took a ce next to him. On the other side of Vargas sat Victor with chin raised toward the ceiling. James huddled on the windowsill, staring at the others and chewing on his nails. Damien perched on a dresser standing near a wall, which allowed him to look down on everyone. Tristan himself sat in the only chair, and Sam leaned on a wall behind him. Today, he wasn''t a bodyguard, but represented Tristan''s men in the city. "So what you brought us here for, ''friend''?" Damien asked. "Something grandiose, I hope?" "Yes. It''s time to act. Until now, I didn''t tell you the full extent of the situation, but you have some of it. As you know, I''m in control of a quarter of the King Lion Gang, and that''s where the money I invested in you already came from. Now¡ªlet me introduce Mr. Hugo Martinez, who until recently controlled another quarter." Tristan gestured at Martinez, who nodded gruffly. "I still do! What I had is still rightfully mine, and it will be returned. With Mr. Hayes'' help¡­" "Yes. And two quarters make a half. Then, if you have a slightly bigger half¡­ it''s almost the same as having the full piece." Tristan smiled. "In simpler words¡ªwho should we all be content with a quarter when we can have it all? I know how to take over the King Lion Gang to everybody''s profit, and all YOU will need to do is to stand at my side." A wave of reactions went through the room. Martinez''s eyes widened at Tristan''s boldness (audacity!), but he stayed silent. Vargas frowned in thought. "A great idea¡ªbut it will actually work better with fewer people," Victor said, pointing at James. "Get rid of this trash, and I''m in!" Chapter 134: Friend of my friend isnt my friend "Get rid of this trash, and I''m in!" James jerked up immediately and shouted back in a shrill voice, "Trash?! Look at yourself! A bunch of pussies¡ªall you know is how to beat women and children!" A single spark was all that it took to ignite the tense atmosphere in the room. Just like Vargas warned Tristan before, these gangsters knew and hated each other for a long while. "Oh, yeah!" Damien pumped his fist in the air. "Fight, fight, fight! Cull down that junkie, boy-soldier!" "I will! That will show him whom I can and can''t beat!" Vargas sneered. "These three are bast and really shouldn''t be here. Can''t you see it now, Mr. Hayes? I''d do much better with only me," he said to Tristan, although he pointedly looked at the fighting gangsters as he spoke. "Cull down?! Never! You will never get me! This was a ploy, I knew it! A trrrrap!" With that cry, James jumped off the windowsill and reflexively reached for his gun holster¡ªwhich was empty, because Tristan told everyone to leave their guns in another room. Just in case. The movement still triggered everybody''s reflexes. Damien tensed like a cat ready to pounce. Victor began rising from his seat. Martinez leaned away from them. "I''m not doing ANYTHING until you deal with this shitshow, Mr. Hayes," he said quietly. Sam nced askance at Tristan, who finally stood up. ''Maybe letting them shout at each other to let out steam and grievances wasn''t such a great idea.'' Aloud, he said, "Quiet! And sit back down. There will be absolutely. No. Fighting. You aren''t First Day Army this and James'' Boys that and Bluebirds whatever anymore. Keep your grudges at home and eyes on the goal!" Tristan''s authority was enough to make James sit down, but it didn''t stop people from throwing hateful and wary nces at each other. "Do as you say, or what?" James muttered snidely. "If you want to gun someone down, why not start with Vic-boy here?" Victor opened his mouth, but Tristan''s piercing gaze stopped the words in his throat. "No, I won''t be gunning anyone down. You have already agreed to work with me, and I with you. But if you act like kindergarten children, I will treat you the same. Well? Should I make you shake your hands and make peace? Or maybe put all of you on a timeout in a corner?" Worse than death for these people¡ªpublic humiliation. In the eyes of their worst rivals, no less! After all, even if they acted like children at this moment, they still ruled a massive part of the Los Angeles underworld. Each of them had a few dozen men under theirmand. Tristan''s threat made gangsters look away from each other and pretend to be unaffected. Maintain some dignity, at least. Even Damien was quiet. The system chimed up with a notification¡ªa few hundred points for a minor intimidation, and a fearsomeness increase. Satisfied with theck of response, Tristan nodded and sat back down. "Now, if nobody has any CONSTRUCTIVE objections, I will continue." James opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "Yes, James?" "What the fuck is ''constructive objection''? You can''t build an objection!" Damien and Victor snickered. Sam suppressed a smirk. Martinez and Vargas scowled harder. Tristan didn''t do any of it, but he wanted to, and also to facepalm. ''This man needs to be reced in his role as soon as possible. And put into rehab. But for now, I just need his ''boys''." "If you don''t know, then just listen. Anyone else?" There was shaking of heads. "No." "The n is juicy¡ªtell us more." "¡­" "No objections." Tristan was sure that these people will still be way too prone to biting each other''s throats. But this is what he had the time for right now. He pointed at Martinez. "He''s a fugitive at the moment, so a perfect bait. Mr. Martinez will call Whitman and im that if Whitman doesn''t let Martinez escape from King Lion Gang''s reach, then Martinez will really give police ckmail on the gang and on Whitman himself. Try to pin it back on him." Martinez gasped. "But I''d never do something this slimy! I''m not like that snake!" "Nobody asks you to actually DO these things. But Whitman might believe you. It doesn''t matter if he thinks you are just bluffing, either. All I want is that he tracked your location through that call. Maybe he will even suggest that you meet him somewhere to go through details. Calls might be listened into, you know?" Tristan smirked meaningfully. Martinez frowned thoughtfully. "Yes¡­ That''s¡­ A good idea. I will insist that I talk with him personally, no one else. That would be only reasonable." Damien nodded. "Quite smart! If you just suggested a meeting outright, or gave Whitman information yourself, he''d be suspicious. But like that? A perfect bait, shiny but not too easy. And then the fisheres in. Us!" "That''s right. We will bring all the firepower. Not to fight¡ªbut to show what we have. Alone, with only a part of his men, he will bepletely defenseless there. He will be ours¡ªwhether he gives up or we take him by force! And then he will talk for us to the other half of the gang." "So no fighting at all? Someone will be disappointed." Victor nced at Damien. "There might be fighting. I would prefer to go without. But if Whitman thinks he''s done for, he might act desperately. If he dies, it''s not the end of the world, but it will make things much moreplicated." "Gotcha. Need Whitman alive, not whole," James muttered through chewed-down fingernails. "Boys to look scary. That''s easy, my boys are always scary. Then¡ªcash? Stuff?" "Cash, weapons, stuff." "I know a good ce where we can put Mr. Martinez to be found," Damien said. "It''s a warehouse that stays conveniently empty because several ships were dyed by a storm. It''s not huge, but a lot of men will fit in. They can hide behind shelves or something¡­" Tristan nodded. "This might work. We still need to iron out the details. So¡­" He reached out and picked hisptop. "Let''s begin." Chapter 135: On position Next evening. The warehouse was as Damien had described it¡ªbig and empty enough to fit several dozen people with guns behind all the empty shelves. The overhead lighting was dim enough to help them hide. A man-sized door near the truck-sized main gate was cracked open in an invitation, but the sun had already set. Damien''s people filled some of them with boxes to create cover, and then Victor''s guys added some bags with dry concrete as a proper cover from bullets. It was thest evening in Los Angeles for Tristan¡ªtomorrow, Derek and the entire crew were going to leave this city. Tristan was supposed to go with them. There was an interview scheduled in his city two dayster with a major news outlet, timed with the uing release of the CYS contest on TV. He had to make this evening count, and he had to make it in time for the interview. ''Thankfully for me, everything was smooth enough until now,'' Tristan thought. ''As long as Whitman actually appears here, we are all set. And he should.'' From what Kevin messaged Tristan earlier today, Leon von''s detectives were actually doing their job. It looked like they had doubts the information leak was Martinez''s fault, and Whitman had to hurry to apprehend his target before someone lit a chair under him. And Whitman wouldn''t believe that Martinez found powerful enough allies here. Not with the picture Whitman painted around him. The people Tristan gathered were waiting in cover, hidden well enough for a nasty surprise. A dozen from each of his allies, led by their respective gang leaders personally to minimize discord in ranks (and because these people still didn''t trust Tristan much). Victor''s people of the First Day Army were the most disciplined of all¡ªsilent and wearing bright red jackets simr to some old army uniforms. They looked at everybody like at targets for a punch or a shot. The Rose Street Gang, led by Vargas, were much less uniform. Very different people, united only by rough origins and experience with violence. Damien''s Bluebirds were grinning behind their boxes as if already imagining the bloodshed¡ªand the spoils of it. James'' Boys were the youngest people here on average. Some weren''t even legally adults. But they all had a look in their eyes that told Tristan that they would shoot first, without even thinking. James appeared to be the only thing that held them under control. Somehow. Even though the man was barely in control himself¡ªeven more jittery today than thest time. ''He''s on some sort of drug, and I wish I knew which exactly. Howe my system still didn''t offer me a skill to tell these things?'' And, of course, there were Tristan''s people. Also a dozen, all as disciplined and battle-ready as Tomas could make them in the brief time since Tristan took Pierce''s ce and made Tomas one of his second-inmands. Four more of Tristan''s people¡ªthest of them¡ªwere positioned at strategic points around this ce, checking out the surroundings. Tristan and Martinez crouched closest to the only entrance, watching a video feeding from the camera directed outside the door. Today, they both put on presentable suits with bulletproof vests underneath. On it, a car parked near the warehouse''s entrance. Five men walked out¡ªWhitman himself in his usual suit and four men barely hiding that they carried guns. A text message popped up on Tristan''s phone. [A car with 5 armed people parked near point B. They are just waiting.] ''So Whitman didn''t expect Martinez to have any allies, but brought a reserve force, just in case.'' [Text if they flee, shout if they move to the warehouse.] Whitman''s group paused near the open door. Tristan could hear bits and pieces of conversation. They were wondering if this was a trap. Whitman gestured for one of his men, who peeked in to see what was inside. A few momentster, he stepped in, looking around with his gun drawn. Tense. Tristan turned and looked at Martinez¡ªmeaningfully. Martinez clenched his jaw and stood up. As instructed, he turned on a recorder on his phone, hid it in his inner pocket, then walked from behind his cover, deliberately loudly and with his hands already raised. The goon already had his handgun aimed at him when Martinez appeared in his sight. "Stop right¡ª" "I said that I was going to speak with Whitman himself, not his people! Call him. Call him now!" Martinez ordered, interrupting the man. It was unnecessary¡ªWhitman was already walking in, followed by the rest of his people. The man was smiling. "You are still as bitchy as always even now, Martinez. Trying to keep a tough face even on your gallows, huh?" Martinez''s face went red with anger. "So that''s how you speak when nobody important is here to call you on it, snake? If only Mr. von knew whom he chose as his right hand¡ªhe''d tear off your head with bare hands. Only you could betray our brothers like that!" Whitman snorted. "''Brothers'', really? We are gangsters¡ªwe are in this for money, not for family andradeship. Hah, if you showed that soft, romantic heart of yours a little more often, Martinez, nobody would''ve believed that you tried to get another underboss killed." "People like you are what brings us closer and closer toplete anarchy! No organization can exist without trust within its members! You never understood it, Whitman. It was all about power and control with you, and it WILL stab you in the back one day!" Whitmanughed. "If so, then you won''t live long enough to see it. Are you going toe with us peacefully, or should I order my people to take you by force?" ''Whitman wasn''t the type to brag too much. Fine, let''s just bag him and THEN interrogate him properly.'' Tristan pped his hands loudly and stood up. The signal was given, and his people walked out from behind their cover. Chapter 136: Bulletstorm Whitman''s people raised their guns, but they were already half-surrounded, and by people who had many more guns than them. All stood near or partially behind covers, and in a way that didn''t block the line of fire. Damien learned from his mistakes quickly after they were pointed at. Martinez also stepped away from the line of fire and toward a nearby crate, although he didn''t hide. Tristan stood next to him casually, with hands in his pockets. "What a surprise, Whitman! It looks like your worldview will bite you in the ass much sooner than you expected. Lay down whatever weapons you have and order your men to do the same. It''s ten-to-one¡ªyou stand no chance." Whitman was pale and wide-eyed. "Hayes? What are you doing?!" He pointed at Martinez. "Why are you on the side of this traitor? The one who hated you more than had loyalty to his own organization!" Tristan frowned. "Don''t try this bullshit on me, Whitman. I know he didn''t do it, and your continuous lies prove it was your fault. Give. Up." Tristan''s voice was rumbling with authority, strengthened by the force of fifty guns behind him. Nobody in their right mind could argue with so much authority (and guns). Whitman hesitated for a moment, but after a look at the twitchy, trigger-happy fingers of James and the bloodthirsty grin of Damien, his shoulders fell. His goons lowered their guns. "Alright¡­ I¡ª" A quiet thrill of a call chimed from Tristan''s pocket. Forcefully keeping his face calm, Tristan swiftly pulled it out. The caller''s name was that of the man from the point A watching point¡ªthe primary route toward the warehouse. A call meant something really, really urgent. Tristan picked it and raised a hand in a gesture to keep quiet. "Boss, there are cops¡ªno, SWAT! Two vans! Coming right in! And I think there''s a helicopter, too!" ''What?!'' Tristan had to bite his tongue to not say it aloud. A SWAT police team? With a helicopter? And possibly snipers? This was too much heat,ing too soon. Tristan put the phone away and pulled out a gun instead, which he pointed in Whitman''s direction. "No time for civilities. Sam, Cutout¡ªbag Whitman. The rest¡ªshoot anyone else who twitches wrong, and bag them too. Quickly!" Chapter Find: Tristan''s people obediently moved forward, but the sudden change of pace made others uneasy. "What''s the sudden change of ns?" Damien asked quietly, but got no answer. Whitman looked around with a nervous frown. "You can''t expect me to just go with this all, Mr. Hayes." His people moved closer to him, expecting amand, and also creating a protective circle around their boss. "The boss can, and he does. Put your gun on the floor!" Sam ordered the man who blocked his approach to Whitman. The goon nced askance at Whitman, who slowly nodded. But it was toote already. It was toote when Tristan got the warning and knew it¡ªjust refused to ept it. Now his ear caught the sound of engines approaching from the outside. "No time. Get ready, hostiles areing!" Tristan shouted to all the gunners he brought with him. "And prepare for the tear gas, or even for a shbang!" "What?!" James screeched. "Those are pig-things! Cop-things! Shit, cops!" "I remind you that the only entrance is ahead of us, Jimmy," Damien said mockingly. "Blocked by ''the snake''. At least it doesn''t look like it all was his fault this time." Whitman was even paler than before¡ªbut there was also a sh in his eyes that Tristan didn''t like at all. "Team one, forget it¡ªget the hell away from them! Martinez, we must move, too." Before they could, the entrance door cracked open, and a trio of grenades was chucked one by one through the narrow crack, rolling all the way forward to Whitman''s position. The world slowed down in front of Tristan''s eyes. ''Tear gas, shbang, tear gas,'' Tristan counted. ''Shit. From my angle, even if I shoot, I will just shoot them to the side, not back toward the entrance. They will still be inside and close enough to affect most people here. At least they had a warning.'' With his left hand, he reached for his second gun. With his right hand, Tristan aimed at one of Whitman''s goons. With his legs, Tristan prepared to spring for cover. When the time dtion ended, he started moving like a freed spring. Whitman''s people raised their guns again and aimed at Tristan''s. Tristan shot first, hitting a man aiming at Sam in the eye. Whitman himself covered his eyes with his hand. "Run! This is our¡ª" There was an ear-splitting bang that echoed inside the warehouse like a bang of a church bell. Tristan had closed his eyes and looked away a split second before that, but the sound still made his ears ring. For a moment, he heard nothing but white noise, but then it began rapidly dissipating, and other noises entered the ce. There was still some ringing and pain in Tristan''s ears, but it was all tolerable. The second time, a shbang did much less damage than thest. ''Those 600 toughness really do their job!'' Tristan thought from behind his flimsy crate cover. Then he felt a stinging smell of tear gas and held his breath. Squinting, he leaned from behind the crate and looked toward the scene. Those were the first notes of a gunfight cacophony. Half a dozen men in heavy military equipment and with automatic rifles rushed through the door, immediately diving toward the cover. A few more peeked from the other side of the door. "LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND DON''T RESIST ARREST!" Whitman and his people were thoroughly disoriented by the shbang, but already rising and pointing their guns in seemingly random directions. "KILL THEM ALL FIRST, BOYS!" James shouted, pointing his gun at the SWAT operatives. His eyes were full of tears and blinking rapidly. Other people were just recovering from a shbang, only for the tear gas to reach them¡ªbut still pointing their guns somewhere. And an instantter, it became impossible to tell from and to where the bullets were flying. Chapter 137: The dark beacon The SWAT members were shooting, the gangsters were shooting¡ªall of them¡ªthe tear gas was decreasing an already poor visibility in the warehouse, and those who still had their hearing after the shbangs couldn''t hear anything because of the gunshot cacophony. The bright shlights on the barrels of SWAT team rifles made the ce look like a nightclub party for gun addicts. When so many little events happen around all at once, the human brain can''tprehend them all. It can either grasp and process one thing at a time and let the rest fly past, or give up and shut downpletely. Tristan saw a few people like that¡ªhuddled on the floor or behind cover,pletely disoriented by the shbangs and the fighting. ''This is shit. This is apletely pointless fight. Fuck, why does this warehouse has only one exit? The cops have us cornered here!'' Tristan grit his teeth and looked out of his cover and through the haze of tear gas. He saw Whitman, trying to reach cover, but just stumbling and falling, then clutching his leg. Then Tristan focused on the police. Their high-protection bulletproof vests and helmets would stop a bullet from Tristan''s handgun without a problem. The only vulnerable spots were ones unprotected by armor: mostly face. ''There''s no point trying to givemands here. Nobody will hear me.'' Tristan aimed at the nearest couple of SWAT members, one with each arm. His hands were steady. He shot at once, with his precision unaffected by the mayhem. Bullets hit both men right through their transparent visors. They fell to the ground, but now others turned toward Tristan. ''Shit!'' The time slowed down momentarily, giving Tristan time to think. There were around ten people in total¡ªmaybe twelve, based on how many fit in two SWAT vans. Tristan killed two, so eight to ten were left. ''I could shoot another man or two. Or I could get away before I turn into a pincushion.'' Chapter Continue: The choice was obvious. As the time resumed, Tristan dove for his crate cover. Just in time¡ªthe first few bullets missed, but the next ones went right through the thin wood. Several splinters scratched Tristan''s cheek, and a bullet hit him right in the stomach. With most of its force taken by the crate and Tristan''s bulletproof vest, it felt like being punched by a tiny but powerful fist. Breath flew from Tristan''s lungs¡ªonly for a moment. ''This will bruise.'' Tristan kept moving¡ªpast his cover, toward others, sturdier ones. His eyes began tearing up, and breathing became harder. He caught glimpses of more people falling from the gunfire on both sides. James was darting from cover to cover, running like a cockroach on amphetamine, dodging every bullet and spraying his own back generously. He wasser-focused on the exit. His boys were following, but much slower. ''And I thought Damien would be the most reckless here.'' Several SWAT members focused their fire on him, while others began spreading for better cover themselves. Tristan was finally not being shot at for a moment. He prepared to shoot again, but it was hard to aim with tearing up eyes and uneven breathing. ''Focus, Tristan¡­ Just focus.'' Tristan covered his mouth with an elbow and tried to take a deep breath without inhaling a lungful of tear gas. The terrible stench¡ªat this point he could feel it even on his tongue¡ªstill made him cough once, but he powered through. He could tell that others were sumbing to the gas much faster. Although some, like Vargas and Damien, spent time covering their faces with improvised cloth masks. Holding his breath, Tristan wiped tears from his eyes, blinked again, aimed, and fired several times from both hands. Two more men fell¡ªone dead, another just to his knee, clutching an arm. A lucky shot between the bulletproof tes, but not lethal. Then another SWAT member fell with a hole in his visor¡ªsomeone else''s work. But gangsters had many more wounded. A nce showed that Whitman''s men were all down, at least. The apparent leader of the SWAT team made a few gestures, and the group went deeper into their covers. Then someone threw another grenade. The time slowed down. ''Another shbang!'' But this time, thanks to his dash between covers, and to the SWAT moving deeper into the warehouse, Tristan was in a better position. He opened his stinging eyes wide and aimed his right pistol at the grenade in slow motion. His left looked at the man who sent it¡ªbecause Tristan had time. Two shots! Tristan''s muscled arms absorbed the recoil like it was nothing. The grenade thrower fell back with a hole between his eyes. The grenade, thrown off by a shot, flew back toward the SWAT team. They recoiled in rm just as the shbang went off. ''Even if no one hears me, leading by example might do something. We need to clear the way out before those helicopter guyse down, or we all suffocate in the tear gas! We need to make them run!'' The next moment, Tristan sprung from his cover, guns zing. "NOW! CHARGE!" Tristan shouted as loudly as he could. He could barely hear his own voice, but he hoped that he''d be seen. He was. His dark clothing made him stand out on the gray backdrop of the tear gas fog, the concrete dust from broken bags, and the shlights of the SWAT team. At that moment, Tristan was a dark beacon in the sea of blinding light. He charged forward while his enemies were disoriented, closing the distance he created earlier. A few bullets whizzed over his head, another grazed his leg. But left and right of him, all the gangsters Tristan gathered were, for the first time, truly united against amon enemy. They charged, too, breaking the distance and pouring the SWAT team with bullets until their vests couldn''t take it anymore. Their spirit gave up first. [Ding!] [You have terrified 7 people of high skill. Reward: your PP increased by 1200!] Chapter 138: They flee James was one of the first, with his tearing up, red eyes opened wide and a semiautomatic pistol held tight in both hands. Damien was not too far behind, but the rest were an indistinguishable mass of humans and bullets in the dark. Another of the SWAT men fell from a lucky headshot, and the rest began running. Even now, their professionalism showed¡ªthey retreated in an organized way, covering each other and not being stuck in the narrow door. ''They hope that if they can hunker outside, we will eventually all choke on the tear gas, then they get reinforcements, and we get caught here like rats in a bucket!'' Tristan understood immediately. He evaluated possible tactics in a sh. His eyes zeroed on a gate control panel, which stayed miraculously not destroyed by the stray bullets, despite many holes in the surrounding wall. "KEEP PUSHING THEM OUT!" Tristan shouted and charged toward the button. Behind him, gangsters, catching the smell of fresh air from the door, sped up in getting closer. The SWAT members kept shooting inside the warehouse from behind the door, but the returning fire kept them pinned in cover and unable to aim. In moments, Tristan reached for the button and mmed a butt of his gun on it. There was a moment of pause. ''Dammit! If this thing doesn''t work now¡­ I will take off Damien''s head, I swear!'' The gate groaned and began rising. Tristan immediately dropped to the ground, and as soon as there was a hole wide enough, began shooting through it. A momentter, he was surprised to find James doing the same next to him. A couple more SWAT members fell, and the rest began retreating in earnest. Those who could walk picked their dead as they dashed away. James rolled under the opening gate to chase them down. With another curse under his breath, Tristan got after him, holstering his left gun. He caught up with James in a couple of steps and grabbed the back of his cor just as the SWAT vans were driving off. The bullets James sprayed on them until his gun went empty just ricocheted from the armored vehicles. "Stop! Let them run. We have better things to worry about!" James reacted immediately by swiveling on his feet and trying to elbow Tristan in his face¡ªbut luckily for him, stopped half-way there. If he didn''t, Tristan''s own reflexes would''ve made him grab James'' arm and dislocate it, or worse. "But those¡ª" James was interrupted by his cough. "Fuck, fuck, fucking gas!" "Just breathe. Breathe, calm down, and calm down your people." Tristan gave James a pat on the shoulder and looked up. Somewhere from above, from arge distance, Tristan heard the noise of a helicopter''s rotor. He looked up and saw its lights on the backdrop of the dark sky¡ªnot an immediate threat, but a watcher. Tristan could feel eyes directed at him from there. ''This helicopter will track everybody who tries to escape today. Or at least, as many people as it could. Perhaps there''s even a sniper there. Or somewhere else.'' Tristan listened in to his senses, but felt no gazes from fitting vantage points nearby. Most buildings around here were warehouses, and many of them were unused or under construction. Not a lot of good sniper nests. Finally, Tristan turned back to the warehouse. The gate opened fully by now, letting in the fresh evening air, and letting gangsters out. They were a mess. Almost everybody was wounded to some extent. Many were lying on the ground, dead or unconscious. Tristan''s eyes searched for the most important people. Martinez was slumped in a corner, clutching his side and leaking blood on the concrete floor. At least he was alive. Whitman was lying on the ground in a puddle of blood, but it was impossible to tell how much of it was his, when two other bodies were lying near. Damien had a few grazes, but moved smoothly. Vargas was covered in concrete dust, but also looked healthy. Victor was propped up by one of his men, and had a bad-looking wound in his hip. Despite that, he held onto hisposure and was already givingmands. And James barely had a scratch, despite charging toward the enemy first. ''What a wonder¡­ Is luck somehow grows with recklessness? Or is it the other way around?'' Tristan dismissed the thought and stepped into the warehouse. "Everybody! We got the cops off us, but they will return. Pack everybody up¡ªalive AND dead! Who knows first aid? Alright, Vargas will get someone to carry the worst wounded outside. And those who just said they know first aid¡ªhelp them! The worst wounded are ones who can''t walk! And bandage Victor, too, before he bleeds out!" Tristan''smands quickly put order into the chaos. At least, being prepared for a fight meant that his people had med-kits with them, and not only his. But nobody was prepared for the bloodshed on this scale. He helped personally, too. His first aid skill was very helpful there. By a preliminary head count Tristan did in his head, they lost at least ten people dead, and about ten more were badly wounded. Almost a half of his entire force! Whitman''s second team escaped, too¡ªnobody had time to deal with them when they sensed danger. Now Tristan was watching everybody pack in the trucks and cars they drove there in. "What a mess," Vargas said, echoing Tristan''s thoughts. "I couldn''t even imagine that THIS was what the pigs were preparing. Nobody could! An anti-gang operation of this scale?.. No way." "I think the cops were surprised, too. If they knew there were so many of us, they''d bring more people," Tristan replied grimly. "I hope this teaches them a lesson." But he felt a gaze from a helicopter on the back of his neck. ''Nobody leaves until we deal with this, somehow.'' Chapter 139: Dealing with the helicopter The helicopter was a problem. Tristan nced around in search of the solution and quickly found it. Several opportunists were looking over corpses of SWAT members lying on a sidewalk and near the entrance. "Leave the looting for another day¡ªwe have more important things to worry about!" Tristan shouted at them, approaching the nearest thug. He was one of Damien''s people, and despite already forming an attachment to his new shiny gun, Tristan''s thunderous face made him abandon the corpse in an instant. "And give me that," Tristan said, taking the automatic rifle from his hands. "If you are not wounded, then help those who are!" The man paled and nodded. He wasn''t going to call Tristan his boss aloud, but he wasn''t about to avoid a direct order¡ªespecially after seeing the way Tristan fought. Vargas watched the exchange with curiosity. "That''s an M4 rifle, isn''t it? I doubt it will do anything against that helicopter. This is abat model¡ªit has to be armored. And from down below, even if you hit the cockpit, the bullet will just nce off the ss. Maybe if we pick several rifles and keep shooting together¡­ But the cops won''t let us." Tristan checked his new rifle with expert movements, making sure it was in working order, and that the magazine was still half-full. "I know all that, Mr. Vargas." ''But this is all I have in mind! Even an armored helicopter like that¡ªit absolutely has to have vulnerable points. The rotor?'' Tristan''s eyes opened wide, staring at the far-away dot of the helicopter. There was¡­ 103.3 meters of distance between them, slowly decreasing. The helicopter was circling around the ce of the fight, which gradually brought it closer to Tristan. But it also made the angle of shooting sharper and less convenient. ''What else?'' It was too hard to make out the details of the helicopter in the backdrop of the almost fully dark sky. Tristan''s ability to analyze what he could see didn''t actually improve his eyesight. "Vargas, I need an optic scope or binocrs. Anything. I think one of my scouts carries one¡ªtell him I sent you." "Got it. I hope you have a n, Mr. Hayes. The people are almost ready to move out." Tristan nodded. "We still have a few minutes, Mr. Vargas. But also, prepare to split our forces and avoid future chase." "Understood." Vargas jogged away. Half a minuteter, the scout Tristan mentioned earlier came in his stead, bringing his binocrs. Tristan immediately looked at the helicopter through them. ''Much better.'' Now he could make out that the rotor des were definitely too thick to be notably damaged by a 5.56mm bullet from an M4 rifle. Inside the cockpit, Tristan saw the pilot''s head, covered by a mask and safe behind thick ss. The wide door of the helicopter was closed, too. There were no outside weapons, but Tristan spotted silhouettes of people behind the side windows. ck paint with white "SWAT" letters painted on the side hid the armor, but Tristan believed Vargas that it was there. The only thing thin enough to be worth aiming at was¡­ ''The tail rotor¡ªthe one the helicopter uses for turning! If I hit it, even if the helicopter doesn''t crash, it won''t be able to follow us.'' There was only one problem¡ªit was a moving target at the range of 100 meters, and it was only 1.25 meters in diameter, as Tristan could see. Not aplicated shot, if Tristan had an actual scope, and if the rotor wasn''t spinning. ''I have to hit the des with a burst shot to deal meaningful damage, and even then, a few will definitely just fly through.'' Tristan huffed. ''I wish I had aser pointer, would''ve been a better guarantee.'' "Hayes!" His name made Tristan lower the binocr. He saw Damien waving a hand at him. "Are we going, or what? The cops'' reinforcements must be almost here! Vargas said we are about to split apart so that the chase catches the least of us¡ªhave you already decided who will be thrown to the pigs as a distraction? You called yourself our leader, so it''s your call to make and your responsibility to carry!" Tristan threw Damien a re. "I didn''t spend so much time recruiting you to throw any of you under the bus! If there''s a way to maximize victories and minimize losses, that''s what a good leader does. And there is. Just watch, Damien." With these words, Tristan stuffed the binocrs in his pocket and went toward the nearest car. He lied on the ground near its hood and put the barrel on his rifle on it for support. The people inside the car watched with wide eyes. This wasn''t the best position, but it was more convenient than standing with his head lifted until his neck hurt. Tristan looked in the sky through the rifle''s iron sights. ''I absolutely can''t make this shot like this. I need¡­ System, status!'' He still had 1020 Criminal Points. Tristan tapped the buttons in the opened window. [Ding!] [Firearms shooting skill increased from 816 to 1836.] Now he had 0 CP. ''This had better work¡­'' He still didn''t feel sure. But he aimed¡ªat this distance, he didn''t have to ount for wind¡ªand he fired a burst of bullets. The gunshots cut through the rtive quiet of the street, and the bullets wheezed into the darkness. Tristan didn''t even know if they hit at all. The helicopter rapidly turned toward him and began speeding up, as if about to open its insides and let SWAT members inside shoot back. ''I need more!'' Gritting his teeth, Tristan aimed again, and fired another burst, and one more for good measure, until the helicopter''s body fully hid its tail rotor from him. ''Did any of this hit?'' Tristan got to his feet and pulled out the binocrs¡ªand paused before he lifted them to his face. He didn''t need them anymore. The helicopter continued to spin over its axis¡ªnow clearly out of control! Chapter 140: Battle brothers The gunshots attracted attention even from those people who weren''t watching Tristan until now. They looked at him, then to where he had been aiming until a moment earlier. Gasps and whispers of confusion spread from a person to person. Continue your adventure with M-V-L "The copter¡­" "Why is it moving like that?" "Holy Mother of God¡­ Is it going to crash?" Through the lenses of the binocrs, Tristan saw that his shots had bent several tail rotor des. More importantly, he must''ve hit something in the rotor mechanism itself. Instead of rotating smoothly, the des now were making several spins, only to stop with a sudden jerk, spin again, stop¡­ Like a stuck record. The helicopter''s pilot was pressing and jerking the controls with agitated movements, but it didn''t seem to help much. "Motherfucker! What a shot!" James screeched from the shotgun seat of his designated truck. "A copter explosion, like in a movie! Oh, hell yeah!" Cheers from other gangsters echoed the statement. [Ding!] [You have impressed and awed 38 people of average, moderate and high skill and status. Reward: your PP increased by 1500!] Tristan grinned together with the rest of the people, too. "I hate to be the party pooper, but that helicopter won''t fall," Damien said, approaching him. "The main rotor still works, so it will justnd somewhere it can reach. But it won''t follow us, that''s for sure." Tristan nodded, pulling himself together. "Right. Now nothing stops us from hitting the road. Let''s move out!" *** An hourter. The aftermath of the operation was still going on. The wounded and the dead were being taken care of, and everything was inspected, counted and noted down. But before that, Tristan had gathered his allies in his ce again. Tonight, the tension between these people was considerably lower. Tristan didn''t bring any of his people with him, but that was just because they were badly wounded and needed rest. He was going to tell Derek that they skipped town, and he, Tristan, had no idea why. The agency will have to drop the line of pursuit, especially since its CEO knew what kind of lions that could irritate. Martinez was also badly wounded and needed rest, but he was still here, despite Tristan''s hesitance. Bullet had gone through him earlier so it didn''t need to be pulled out. Now his wound was bandaged and almost not bleeding, and the man ate some painkillers. Now he was trying to make a face of someone not pained at all and failing. Others respectfully gave him his space on the couch. "We need to talk about what happened, and what will happen," Tristan said. "What happened? It was a shitshow." Victor spat out. "Now the cops are gonna be on a manhunt for months!" "Yes, that was a huge blow. I bet they were expecting to meet a couple dozen people at most, bag them up quickly and proudly present them to the public," Vargas replied with a frown. "How did they find us then in the first ce? It was a full-sized raid! Sea Devil, you said the ce was secure!" "It was! They must''ve tracked someone. Weren''t Hayes and Martinez in hot water with the police? I bet the cops tracked them." Tristan cut him down with a re. "They didn''t. We were extremely careful on our way there." Tristan would''ve felt any direct observation. "And there could''ve been no trackers in his vehicle, because the vehicle was borrowed from you in the first ce. As you said yourself, you weren''t on the police radar." "It must''ve been Whitman. Who else?" Martinez pressed out. "The snake. Dumb snake with a long tail." ''I think his painkillers interfere with his brain function. But he isn''t wrong.'' "Mr. Vargas will try to dig into thister," Tristan said pointedly, "but it''s not the most important thing. You have been dealt a blow, and now you need to recover. And be quiet while the police look for you." "No shit," James muttered. "I will share my resources for this, but only after I leave Los Angeles. Which will happen tomorrow. I will send one of my men here to act as a mediator." Definitely Tomas. A strong man to keep that pile of wolves a part of the same pack. He won''t be doing any administrative work himself. "But," Tristan said heavily, "although it didn''t go as smoothly as we all imagined it¡­ We did it. Whitman is tied up in a secure ce, not bleeding to death. Within days, our alliance will make a major step up. Within months, Los Angeles will be ours. All of it. The cops will just have to deal with it." The infliction in Tristan''s voice made that speech more than words. It turned it into a vision, one that people could almost touch. James closed his eyes and reached out with a shaking hand. "And you all fought together to reach it. Spilled blood together. You might think whatever you want about yourself, but you are brothers now. We all are brothers." Tristan closed his eyes for a moment, too, feeling a wave of bitter memories. "Family is a bond that''s stronger than anything. You can reject it, but it won''t disappear. It''s just a fact, same as that sky is blue and things thrown up always fall back down. No matter what, we will be brothers, so¡ªact the part." When he opened his eyes again, there was a solemn atmosphere in the room. The gangsters looked at each other with old distrust, but a new perspective. [Ding!] [You have gained some trust from 3 people of high status and skill. Reward: your PP increased by 1500!] Tristan forced himself not to wince. Today, the ''ding'' sound felt especially annoying. ''Those damned notifications, always ruining moments¡­ Alright, points are good.'' "Brothers, huh?" Damien drawled, breaking the strange silence. "Yeah, I know how that can turn out. Alright, fes, you heard the big man¡ªwe are going to y nice for now. No shooting each other on the streets, or cops wille and put us all behind the bars, anyway." "Fuck you," Victor said back. Vargas chuckled. Damien chuckled too, then beganughing in earnest. James echoed him, same as Tristan, and even Victor began smirking wider and wider. ''Maybe they will be even better than brothers. Maybe they will actually be friends.'' Chapter 141: Upon return Next day. Tristan spent most of the ride from Los Angeles listening to music and pretending to be asleep. The ride jostled his bruise and all the scratches hidden under his shirt, and although he could stomach the pain and pretend that all was well, he was conserving energy. Derek epted Tristan''s exnation about the escaped security team (delivered with absolute conviction), but had been in a worse mood since then. Nelson was just sad to say goodbye to Los Angeles, although he was already dreaming about returning there permanently, and soon. Upon arrival, Tristan escaped all responsibilities rted to stardom as soon as he could. He had more time-sensitive things to deal with. *** There were many people who had been waiting to see Hayes in person again. It was evening when he stepped inside the Good Lion Bar. There were a dozen visitors at the time, and their conversations paused for a moment as people dealt with their surprise. Even the pianist hired to rece Tristan Gemello missed a key because he turned to look at Tristan. Tristan nodded to the people he knew personally on his way to the office. He could''vee from the back, but this was a show¡ªhe was showing these people that he was back in the city. But he stayed there only for long enough to give Kevin the most vital instructions, and hear from him the report of the most important things that happened on thest day. And something happened, something that put a wide smile on Tristan''s face. Then he left again. *** The next ce Tristan visited was a basement under one of his properties ("his" inside the gang¡ªtechnically, this one was owned by a fake person who didn''t even exist). It was a small ce, with bare concrete walls, a single light bulb on the ceiling, and the floor covered in stic tarp. Despite thetter, one could spot speckles of old dried blood on the walls. A ssic torture basement. At the moment, its guest was Whitman. He was sitting on a folding chair, slumped on himself, with his legs bound. His hands were left free, but they were lying on Whitman''s knees powerlessly. In the recent fight, he sustained several wounds, but the worst one tore something in his shoulder that made his right hand unable to move. The rest just made Whitman unable to do much more than re at his captors. There were two present: Tristan and Martinez (still on painkillers and leaning on a wall, but proudly refusing to even sit). Tristan threw Martinez a nce and decided to not throw him out yet. ''The man deserves some satisfaction.'' He turned to the glowering prisoner. "Mr. Whitman. I know you aren''t in the best state at the moment, but that state can easily be even worse. Talk to us." Whitman sneered. "No. Do the thing, torture me¡ªI will kick the bucket before you get anything out of me." ''Stubborn bastard. He still hopes that someone¡ªhis people, or Leon himself¡ªwill get him out of this in time. Too bad the system didn''t give me another truth serum vial until now. All the items were weapons I could get through other sources, anyway.'' The shop''s daily selection was usually a talent, a skill or two, and an item or two. But the pool of all of them was limited and repeated at least every couple of weeks. Not always when Tristan needed it to repeat. "We don''t need to get anything out of you but your split tongue, snake," Martinez spat out. Whitman just smirked. He was hurting terribly, but he was tough enough for some pain. More importantly, he was going to deal with both Hayes and Martinez by the end of all this. His wounds were ying for him in this case. They couldn''t just kill him¡ªLeon won''t let it go without proof of his guilt. And Hayes won''t be able to hide Martinez or Whitman from the world for long, not after Whitman''s people, ones that escaped the shooting, will tell what happened there. Those people didn''t see things themselves, but they didn''t need to. The shooting was on all the news! "Gang violence on the rise: two dozen people dead after a failed SWAT operation in Los Angeles. What is the police going to do? A statement from the LAPD captain on the news at 9¡­" and so on. Stay tuned to M-V-L In short¡ªLeon was going to have questions for Hayes. Lethal questions. And Whitman was going toe out on top, because Hayes was too reasonable and ambitious to just kill him. Tristan Hayes watched all those thoughts sh in Whitman''s eyes. His reasoning was easy to understand. Despite that, Tristan smiled. Whitman frowned, and Tristan smiled even wider. He even chuckled. "You think that you already won, Whitman, but what you don''t know¡­ is that you already lost. Lost so much that I don''t even need you alive anymore. The only reason I brought you here is an execution." Tristan pulled out a gun and offered it to Martinez. The man took it and stared at Tristan in confusion. "I''m not going to believe your bluff, Hayes! If you kill me, the boss will shoot you like a mad dog! You can''t just betray the organization by attacking its members unprovoked!" "A lot of things happened between yesterday and today. Whitman, Mr. von''s investigators got to your personal files in your absence and dug out your link with the Los Angeles police. They were, as it turned out,petent people. Now there''s a target put on YOUR head." Whitman stared at Tristan, pale and wide-eyed. "You are bluffing." "What? They did! Glorious bastards¡­" Martinez clutched the gun tighter and aimed it at Whitman. He paused to nce at Tristan. Tristan nodded. "Go to the deepest Hell, where even I won''t see you ever again," Martinez said, pressing the trigger three times in session. Even with shaking hands, at least one shot hit something vital in Whitman''s chest. When the man fell to the ground and the quiet returned, Tristan turned to Martinez. "This was just the beginning. Next stop¡ªtheplete takeover. Try to rest for that night, at least. I need you alive tomorrow." To subdue Leon von. The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone! Chapter 142: Ultimatum Next morning. Today, Leon von''s conference room was much emptier than usual. In fact, besides Leon himself, his onlypany for now was Delgado. They both drank coffee as they waited¡ªLeon with forced calm, Delgado with obvious tension. The door leading into the room cracked open, and Leon''s guard looked inside. "Mr. Hayes has arrived, and also¡­ Mr. Martinez." The young man himself walked inside a momentter. As always, he showed nothing butplete self-assurance in himself on his face and walked in wide, confident steps. In the time since Leon saw him in person, Tristan grew into an even more impressive individual than he already had been. Clearly, the hardships of another city straightened him like steel. Behind him followed Hugo Martinez with a frown on his face and a chin raised high. From the careful way he moved, he was clearly wounded and still hurting. "Congrattions on your return. To both of you!" Leon eximed. "With your appearance, Martinez, I will finally be able to clear the matter of the alleged ''betrayal''. And I can''t wait to see what Hayes has achieved in Los Angeles¡­" Tristan smiled, sitting down. "A lot of things. Why don''t you take a look, Mr. von?" Out of a small briefcase at his side, he pulled out a stack of printed documents and pushed them toward Leon. He rapidly browsed through them, his eyebrows rising with each page. It was just a summary of a muchrger amount of information which Tristan kept to himself for now, but it was already very telling. Tristan not only described all more or less important gangs of Los Angeles, their use as allies and their dangers as enemies, he also added documents proving that he had made an alliance with some of these gangs! Now several trade opportunities for drugs and weapons worth millions of dors in potential revenue were waiting just a nod from Leon. "This is worth a lot, Hayes. Our organization is going to expand to new heights like that! As soon as our internal strife is cleared, I''m going to pursue this opportunity. This city is growing too small for us." Delgado nced from Leon to Tristan, then to Martinez. "So, was the mission a sess? I''ve heard there were some problems, though. Weren''t you hit by a police raid, Mr. Hayes?" Tristan smirked at him. "Yes, there was a SWAT operation that targeted me and my allies, thanks to Whitman, but it was nothing we couldn''t deal with. Speaking of¡ªI also must add that Whitman, unfortunately, died during this attack. He tried to sic police on me and Martinez, but the police got him instead." Leon stared at Tristan intently. This was too convenient. There wasn''t a hint of a lie in Tristan''s way of speaking, but in any other circumstances, Leon would''ve started a detailed investigation as a matter of principle. There had to be a strict order to prevent infighting¡ªthe sort that happened recently. "It''s good, then, that my investigators already found definite proof of his guilt," Leon said. "Yes," Martinez gritted out. "I assume that otherwise I''d be taken prisoner as soon as I stepped into your manor, Mr. von." Leon turned to him with a re. From arge, muscr man like him, with a mane of thick blond hair on a very masculine, but also somewhat noble, face, it was a very powerful re. "You shouldn''t have tried to escape in the first ce, Martinez! Were you doubting my ability to resolve this all fairly? Were you insulting me with your doubts?" And undermining Leon''s authority. It wasn''t something he could just let slide. But to his shock, instead of bowing, Martinez red right back. "What if I was? When Whitman found his ''proofs'' and went to catch me, you didn''t stop him! And¡ª" Tristan raised his hand and Martinez fell silent. Now both Leon and Delgado were confused. Why would Martinez, who always hated Tristan, suddenly defer to him like that? Tristan stood up and his expression became deathly serious. "Mr. von, I respect you as a leader, but there are limits to what you can achieve. Limits that I n to break. Right now, half of our organization¡ªmy people, Martinez''s people¡ªand also my allies from Los Angeles, are ready to support me as a leader. Enough to conquer the rest. That war could be long and bloody, which neither of us wants¡ªso I ask you, Mr. von, to give up now and be my subordinate instead." To Tristan''s side, Martinez nodded in wordless support. Delgado gasped in astonishment. Leon was stunned speechless¡ªbut only for an instant. He opened his mouth to call security, but faster than any sound came from his mouth, Tristan pulled a gun out of his inner pocket and pointed at Leon''s face. "By the way, conquering the King Lion Gang will go much faster and easier without the King Lion. Yes, your guards check everyone who enters the mansion for hidden weapons, but¡­ it was surprisingly easy to convince me you trust me enough." Tristan chuckled. "No, I''m just THAT convincing." "This is insanity!" Delgado shouted, rising to his feet¡ªonly for a second gun Tristan pulled out to suddenly be pointed at him. He gulped. "It''s a calcted risk," Tristan said with another smug smirk. "Even in the worst-case scenario, I know I can leave this ce. YOU know what I can do, too. You''ve read the reports from thest shooting I was in." He turned toward Leon. Although he spoke to both him and Delgado, Tristan''s eyes were making holes only in Leon. His voice seemed to burrow directly into Leon''s brain. "I have people, and I have guns pointed at your heads. Give up. Truly, fully, without changing your mind as soon as I leave the room. It won''t do you good, anyway. Call your right-hand men and tell them that today everything changed. Or shout for help, get a bullet in your head, ande to the same result, but worse. Which one will it be?" Chapter 143: The King Lions crown Tristan watched Leon and Delgado''s reaction intently. He put on a big show of being 120% confident in his every move, but there was always room for mistakes, as a recent fight with police showed. And he''d rather not be shot again. Delgado opened his mouth again and hissed quietly enough that no one outside could hear, "You are ill in your head if you think you can juste and take over what we built over the years, Hayes. I thought you were the fresh blood our organization needed, but you were poison. Poison!" Tristan didn''t bother replying, still keeping most of his attention on Leon. Delgado wasn''t the one who could sway Leon''s opinion, but Leon could give Delgado orders. Even now, Delgado was giving Leon cautious nces. It was another insight that Tristan could only find now, when tensions were high and guns were ready to shoot. ''If Leon gives a signal, Delgado would throw himself between him and bullets. He''s loyal to the man himself, not to the organization. But he thinks Leon deserves nothing less than all of it.'' Leon himself was clenching his fists until white knuckles. "You point a gun at me even after everything I gave to you, Hayes. Every opportunity, every promotion. Heh. You are a truly ruthless person¡ªa beast that doesn''t know or care what loyalty is." "I am loyal, Mr. von¡ªto you and to this entire gang. Otherwise, you''d be dead. But you would never allow me to take over the gang otherwise¡ªeven after growing old, you''d prefer your biological heirs. I''m sure you have someone, even if you hide them well." Leon''s frown deepened. "What kind of loyalty is it, if you just step over it for the sake of ambition?!" Delgado asked, looking at the gun aimed at him as if waiting for opportunity. Tristan chuckled. Although it''s been a while, his hands were still not tired of holding the guns aimed, because he had a good stance and lots of endurance. He could keep these two at gunpoint without even a tremble in his hands for a long time. "It''s a mutual benefit, admittedly. My ambition is satisfied, and the gang prospers. And both of you can have a cushy, rich retirement¡ªor influential position under me. It won''t be a loss. Just¡­ a younger liones into the pride to protect it, when the older one can''t." Delgado opened his mouth, but Leon''s re cut him off. "I see how it is. I see that if I disagree, you will not hesitate to kill me, despite your loyalty. But¡­ I knew, when I gave you Pierce''s ce, that your ambitions can be too grand for me." Suddenly, Leon''s tense shoulders rxed. He made a decision. "I will help you achieve your ambitions, but on the condition that you preserve the legacy of my organization. King Lion Gang will stay under that name and be led by King Lion, even if that lion isn''t me." Tristan nodded. "This is easy. Is that all?" "Yes." Suddenly, Leon reached out for his head and tugged on his long blonde and fake hair. "Mother of God¡­" Martinez whispered, looking at what happened next. Delgado just gasped. Even Tristan''s eyes widened in shock. Leon, slightly wincing, pulled the wig off his head. Underneath it was a shining bald spot, with the rest of hair cleanly shaved off. Now a lion without his mane, Leon von offered the wig to Tristan. [Ding!] [You have earned respect, loyalty and the crown (wig) of Leon von, a former leader of King Lion Gang. Reward: your PP increased by 5000!] [Ding!] [Your Criminal rank changed from Made Man to King Lion! Reward: your PP increased by 15000!] The notifications only shocked Tristan more. But after he realized what they told him, he smiled and hid away the guns aimed at Leon and Delgado. Instead, he took the wig. It was a high-quality thing made from natural hair, and currently slightly wet with Leon''s sweat. There was a thin, stretchy under it, which Leon took off together with the wig. ''I can try it on once¡ªfor effect. This will definitely prove the other gangsters who''re in charge now.'' With that thought, Tristan put the wig on. It was somewhat big on him. The sight of Tristan with long blond hair was as shocking as that of Leon''s being bald. Martinez and Delgado both couldn''t help but just stare at both of them. Tristan flicked the hair off his face and stuck a pose. No matter his haircut, he still looked handsome. However, if on Leon the blond, wavy hair gave an impression of a lion''s mane, with Tristan it made him look more like a dangerous, unforgiving angel. "I''m very d, Mr. von. What about you, Mr. Delgado?" "I¡­ I don''t want to work for you, Hayes." He said with sudden determination. "My loyalty is still to Mr. von. You can take my assets and my people, but I will work for him alone." Tristan smiled and sat back in his seat. "This is fine. Now, there were a lot of sudden changes¡ªthe entire hierarchy of the organization will have to be rearranged. Plus, I want to include our new allies more tightly into it, to gradually incorporate their gangs into ours and create inter-city structure. But let''s start our today''s meeting with finding a recement for Whitman. No, wait." He pointed at Leon''s cup of coffee. "Please, call someone to bring a cup of tea to me, too, Mr. von. And Mr. Martinez?.." "Coffee, please. ck." Leon nodded. "Snacks for everyone. This seems like it''s going to be a long meeting." When a bodyguard carrying a tray of food and drinks entered the door fifteen minutester, he almost dropped them after seeing the change of hair. Tristan just smiled at the man''s shock, and at his even bigger shock when Leon suddenly announced, "Mr. Hayes is going to take my ce as the King Lion of this gang. Defer to him." Chapter 144: Suffering from success It took longer than a day to organize all changes in the King Lion Gang. Even a week of workter, the process had only begun. But Tristan''s new rule was already solid. There were people who disagreed, but the support on the highest level that Tristan had let him quickly silence all those voices with his authority. And a few carefully measured punishments. Those were mostly older people. Younger gangsters loved to see someone like Tristan at the top¡ªit made them feel like they could reach the same heights as Tristan if they just worked hard. Tristan dly gave them opportunities for this. And when Tristan wasn''t finalizing his takeover, he was finalizing his rise to stardom. Which¡­ met unexpected hurdles. Inevitably, the best parts of the Californian Young Star contest were going to appear on TV. The expected date was a week after the contest''s end, but ten days have passed already, and the show''s producer was still dying. "I will talk with the producing team of the TV show of the contest and ask them what is the problem, Mr. Gemello," Derek said when the topic came up. "I want to see you appear on the TV screen globally as much as you do! And not only because of the publicity it will bring¡ªafter all the work you put into this, not being shown on TV would be a crime." *** Some timeter, somewhere in Los Angeles. A middle-aged plump man was waving his hands and talking loudly, looking like he was about to pull hair from his head. "This is just not good! Not good at all! Look at this guy. Then look at the other people. Then back at this guy. There''s nopetition at all! Who would want to watch it? Viewerse for the spectacle, for the drama, for the victories against all odds¡ªnot for some genius to show up and beat everyone!" "Mr. Harris, but¡ª" "And even the surprise round isn''t as good as we all hoped! Yes, there are some goodically pathetic people, but if we only bully these people too much, people will just start bullying us online! Do YOU want to get cyber-bullied? I certainly don''t if it means we will lose the contest''s reputation!" "Mr. Harris, but we still need to release the show! We are already missing the deadlines! We edited all the footage, and we need money from showing it! The organizationmittee of the contest and the investors are already breathing in our necks about it." Arguments like these happened on repeat for a fourth day in the row. All the other people in the conference room listened to the argument with bored and tired faces. The only person who listened intently and heard this all for the first time was Derek Writfield. Earlier, when he addressed his questions to the producer, Harris, instead of replying, the man invited him to listen to this meeting¡ªwhich required Derek to make an unnned trip to LA. The inconvenience was worth it. The more he listened, the wider his eyes became. ''Is that''s what is called "suffering from sess"? Gemello¡­ He really was too stunning. Even more stunning than in his first round of the contest. Back then, he had morepetition,'' Derek thought. Clearly, themittee had reached a roadblock. Even Harris, after exhausting all his frustration, just sighed and sat down. "It''s pointless to even buy a spot on a nation-wide channel to run this all." Several people echoed the sigh. "Bye-bye, yearly bonus," someone muttered. Derek sighed, too. This was bad. His boss wasn''t going to be happy, Tristan wasn''t going to be happy, and Derek himself wasn''t happy with this either. ''There has to be a way to make the show interesting enough to show nation-wide. If they could only show records of Gemello''s performance on some music-specializing channels, it would''ve been the easiest! But¡­'' After fifteen more minutes, in which Derek didn''te up with anything, Harris called for a break. Derek left the room and went to sit on a couch ced in the building''s hallway. Here, he called Tristan and told him what he found out. "That''s¡­ Damn. What a situation, Mr. Derek. Thank you for telling me." Derek rubbed his forehead. "I will do my best to salvage it. From the pure show-centric standpoint, it''d be best for Mr. Harrier to just cut you and Mr. Omen from the show entirely. I''m sure he''d do that, if not for the fact that you took prize ces." Tristan huffed on the other side of the call. "He should''ve thought about these things beforehand. Or the organizationmittee." He paused, but just before Derek was about to ask if he was still here, continued. "That''s an interesting idea, though." Derek blinked. "You want to be cut out of the show?" "No! The opposite. Isn''t the problem thatpared to me and Omen, all the other performances are just a boring waste of air time? Pitch the idea of just cutting them off to the producer, then!" This was absolutely audacious. "But Mr. Gemello! What kind of contest is it with only two people? Besides, they need at least an hour of air time, or they won''t earn much money from airing the show, anyway. Although¡­" Against his initial judgments, cogwheels began turning in Derek''s head. At the other end of the call, Tristan smiled. "Although?.." "I think there will be a couple of other decent contestants. And the rest of the space can be filled with documentaries or something. It''s¡ª" Derek cut himself off when he saw people returning from the break walk past him and into the conference room. "I will suggest this immediately. Please, if you have any more ideas, leave me a message, Mr. Gemello." "Of course." Derek ended the call and followed the rest of these people into the conference room. On the other end of the ended call, Tristan wondered if he could''ve had done things differently and won the contest without showing off THIS much. ''Nah. Not with Angelo Omen there! Which means¡­ No regrets! Only hoping that Derek is persuasive enough.'' Chapter 145: Another wrench in the plans "This idea is¡­ Too problematic! We can shoot extra footage, but it''s going to take extra time. Who''s gonna pay for it?" Harrier said after listening to Derek''s carefully worded and exined suggestion. "And isn''t this all too convenient for you, anyway? Mr. Writfield, you are here because of Gemello, but the rest of us are here because of the contest!" The loud and venomously spoken tirade would''ve made many people retreat on the spot. But Derek had much thicker skin than this. He smiled politely. "Mr. Harrier, although imperfect, this is a solution to your problems. Don''t be so quick to refuse it. You can just air the show footage as it is on the national TV, but I''m sure that following my suggestion will bring you better results in the end. The worst thing in this situation would be doing nothing at all." "Exactly, Mr. Harrier," a member of the producing team piped in tiredly. "We should do SOMETHING already. At this point, I''m ready for anything as long as it will be outside this room!" The person was supported by nods from other people¡ªthose who weren''t yet too apathetic to do even that. Harrier scowled at Derek, but before he could speak, Derek continued. "Mr. Harrier, why won''t you ask the organizationalmittee what they would prefer? They are the ones who will pay for the extra footage if you agree to my idea." "Humph. Perhaps. Does anyone have any other smart opinions about Mr. Writfield''s suggestion?" The opinions stayed the same as earlier: "Just do something already, please. Or at least stop tormenting us with these meetings!" Sadly for this team, their producer loved meetings. "I see. Damn, you ARE right¡ªthis is going nowhere. I will push your idea to the organizers. We will see what they think, Mr. Writfield. But¡­" Harrier narrowed his eyes. "They surely will agree that this idea is too convenient for you." Derek nodded with the same polite smile. He knew that if Tristan''s idea was put to life, then afterward he was going to be in the CYSmittee''s debt. But they weren''t the worst people to owe favors to, so he wasn''t worried. If they agreed, it''d be worth it. *** Two dayster. They agreed. It helped a lot that Tristan could just call his good pal Dominic Morsworn, one of the contest''s investors, and convince him that his idea was absolutely worth the trouble. Plus, other people on themittee, people whom Tristan charmed at the after-party and made acquaintances with, also were inclined to help him as soon as the thought appeared in their heads. ''It would be so unfair for someone so dazzling to not appear on the national TV after all that,'' they thought, although not all in such words, and not all even realized they had these thoughts. ''Surely, as many people as possible must see something so stunning!'' That meant, however, that Tristan had to shoot more documentaries about himself. Although nning the script and the shooting and editing it all would take a month, even with the CYS contest''srge production team, Tristan only had to shoot for a few days. Other chosen contestants were also invited to make that documentary. No one thought to refuse, not with the publicity it could bring. Except for¡­ "Angelo Omen. Of course." Tristan sighed. A lunch meeting that was supposed to bring good news was only bringing him stress today. "Yes¡­ He refused," Derek said. "I heard that the production team even offered him extra money to be shot, but he said he had enough already and it wasn''t worth it. I was hoping, actually, that you can convince him, Mr. Gemello. You have a natural aptitude for befriending people¡­ Mr. Omen is an absolutely enigmatic person, but I thought you had some understanding between you. Unless I imagined it, of course." Tristan suppressed a desire to rub his forehead. Once again, Angelo was unintentionally throwing a wrench into his ns. "With the entire shooting already started and everything on strict schedule, no one can afford for Mr. Omen to just not appear. If the idea suggested by me, with your¡­ influence, so to speak, Mr. Gemello¡­ will fail, there will be a lot of bacsh from some very influential people." Tristan nodded. "I know. I will try talking to him. You have his personal contacts, I hope?" "Yes, of course." *** Tristan called in the evening, when he thought there was the highest chance to catch Angelo free. Despite that, the other man wasn''t answering the phone for so long that Tristan was about to give up and leave a message instead. "Hello. Angelo Brown is speaking." "Brown? Ah, this is your real name¡ªOmen is a stage pseudonym. Right, this is Tristan Gemello. Can we talk, or are you busy?" "Mr. Gemello? I''m very happy to hear from you and will be pleased to talk. I assume you want to talk about something specific, so what is it?" All that was said in the same nd monotone that was impossible to read. Normally, Tristan would''ve preferred to talk face to face, so he could fully use his face-reading and voice-hypnotizing abilities, but with Angelo, he felt like it didn''t matter at all. ''Damn, he talks like a robot! An AI! "Pleased to talk", my ass¡ªwhere did he learn to speak like that? If this man doesn''t want to do something, and has already refused money¡­ Can I convince him at all?'' "I will cut to the chase. You were invited to an extra documentary shooting for the Californian Young Stars contest, Mr. Omen. Or should I call you Mr. Brown?" "You can call me Angelo. And yes, I was invited, but I didn''t want to gather publicity and the film shootings are exhausting, so I refused. Did you call to change my mind, Mr. Gemello?" Tristan chewed his lip for a moment. ''Ah, fuck it. Just asking questions bluntly¡ªthis worked thest time, didn''t it?'' "Yes. Angelo, what can I do to convince you?" Chapter 146: What is he planning? Instead of a reply, Tristan heard a short, rapid piano melody yed somewhere around the phone. It ended just when Tristan was about to ask what this all was about. "Record a song together with me. I still want to y music with you, and I want to be able to listen to itter." ''That''s it?'' Tristan raised his eyebrows. ''Well, I won''t be looking a gift horse in the mouth this time.'' "Sure, Angelo. Can it wait until after the shooting, though? We can sign a contract beforehand, decide on how you want profits for releasing this song to be split. It''s going to be an original one, right? We can just do a cover¡ªI don''t care." "Releasing the song? I didn''t think about it, but it''s eptable. I don''t have a preference about which song, either." "Good. And I will tell the CYS show producer to contact you again. We should talk about it more in person." "Absolutely." Despite theck of emotion, there was a lot of weight in this word. When the call ended, Tristan stared at his smartphone for another minute. ''I feel like there was something besides recording music in Angelo''s mind. He seems so straightforward, but I feel like this is just a tip of the iceberg! Or I''m just making things up¡­ I will ask Derek to check any contract he will sign with me twice.'' *** With Angelo''s appearance, the filming waspleted ording to the n. Most of it happened on the same several filming sets in Los Angeles. Having to take a four-day trip there was inconvenient for Tristan''s criminal identity, but he salvaged it by using the opportunity to organize his Los Angeles subordinates better. The extra shots were various documentary pieces, going deeper into the history of participants¡ªmost of which were either embellished or outright untrue for the sake of the show. Tristan took great pleasure ining up with a 99% fake story of a rags-to-riches man who yed piano in bars to afford a guitar, which he actually wanted to y. Angelo didn''t seem to like attention from the interviewers and the entire filming process at all. Like always, he spoke in monotone, and on the set he was always wearing headphones¡ªeither big, or less obvious, small ones. His life story exined a lot about him. Tristan listened to it from the edges of the shooting set with great interest. Angelo was a real-life savant, a true genius¡­ The type who are incredibly inept in most other aspects of life. The Californian Young Star contest wasn''t the first talent show he won (or almost won). The prize money and prestige afforded him more money to spend on musical equipment and visits to live orchestra concerts. "But I don''t need those anymore," Angelo admitted at the end. "I found a better source of ietely. After this show, I won''t appear in public unless it''s to create masterpieces." *** Angelo suggested they should record that song as soon as the shooting was over¡ªwhile they were still in Los Angeles, since both of them had to leave the city again after this. Tristan had written a few original songs for his uing album already, and having someone like Angelo helping him was actually very convenient. These songs had much more instruments than just the guitar. Tristan could record them all himself (he had all the Pop-star Points necessary to learn the skills), or let the GTG agency find someone to record them. But he suggested Angelo to help him record these, and Angelo was d to agree. Tristan added a fair payment on top of the deal, but from the speed with which Angelo said, "yes", he felt like Angelo could''ve done it for free. Now both of them were in a recording studio rented by GTG, standing amid the various instruments. Derek stood in the listening booth with the sound technician, watching Angelo curiously. "You know, we could rece one of the guitar tracks with a piano," Tristan said, watching Angelo tinker with the electric piano in the room. The song had drums, bass, two guitar tracks and vocals. Despite that, Angelo agreed to perform on it after reading Tristan''s note sheet once. "No need yet. We should try it as it is, then see. I will y drums for now¡­" He tapped the keys in an extremely fast rhythm, creating a stato of drumming. "Wouldn''t it be easier to y drums on an actual drum?" Tristan asked, pointing at the drum set in the corner. "I can only y keyboard instruments. The electric pianos are the easiest, anyway." Angelo''s palm brushed the keys gently. "Every note is spread around me, and I can arrange them in whichever way I want. The loss in sound qualitypared to non-electric instruments is worth the breadth of opportunities." Knowing what Angelo could do with electric pianos if he really felt like it, Tristan nodded. "As long as the result is good, I don''t care if it''s yed on a banana." He hit the strings of his guitar. "Let''s go!" *** 4 hourster. They recorded two songs in exceptional quality. Angelo''s presence sped things up a lot, and he also added a few improvements to the melodies itself. He was also easy to work with in a personal sense, too¨Che seemed to understand Tristan''s musical thoughts from half the word. The quality of his tracks was superb, too. "It was wonderful to work with you," Derek said to Angelo after the recording session. He smiled and offered Angelo a hand to shake. "If you ever feel like changing your mind on show business, Golden Talent Group will always be there with an offer of support." Angelo made no movement to shake the hand. "I know." A pause. "Thank you." He turned to Tristan, ignoring Derek entirely. "Today''s recording session confirmed my earlier hopes. Tristan, I have another suggestion for you. A suggestion¡­" He paused. "We better talk in private about it." Tristan blinked. ''I knew it! He had some weird n in his head all that time!'' Chapter 147: For the music They moved to Tristan''s hotel suite. That was as private as it got¡ªAngelo epted nothing less. Now Tristan sat on a couch, forcing his bodynguage to not show his tension, while Angelo perched on the edge of a chair opposite of him. "Tristan, do you consider me your friend?" Tristan raised his brows. "I thought you were here to speak about your mysterious offer. And by this point, I''m very curious about what it is. What''s the secrecy about?" "You won''t answer my question?" "No." Tristan folded his arms over his chest. "C''mon. You sounded quite excited about it." Angelo perked up the slightest bit. "I was. You really understand me well. I am unsure if this is enough for you to agree to this, hence my question. As for my offer¡ªyou must create a music band with me." Thanks to Angelo''s monotone delivery, the thing he said didn''t even register in Tristan''s head immediately. Then¡­ "What?" He reeled back. "Just like that?" ''That''s too problematic! I''m already neck-deep in scheduling problems since I need to keep my second identity up¡ªhaving a band would multiply it by the amount of band members.'' Tristan had contemted the idea of a music band before. Having a band gave a lot of advantages, but had a lot of disadvantages, too. At the very least, he had to find people he could trust, like he could trust his subordinates in the criminal world. Except, in the criminal world, he could terrify untrustworthy people until they abandoned thest thought of betrayal. In show business, that could give him a lot of bad PR. "Yes," Angelo said. "You are a man who values music as much as I do. I hope dearly that you understand how important it is to create the best of it we could. I don''t want to be a public person, but it''s a sacrifice I''m ready to make for the sake of music." Tristan stared at the man, abandoning his cool andposed mask. "Does that really require a band? You can justpose songs. I''d dly record them with you." "No. That''s something I thought about for a while¡ªthat music must be heard by as many people as possible. Someone like you must bring it to people, live." He paused. "You and me, Tristan. And other talented and worthy enough people, possibly." Tristan shook his head wordlessly. If there was someone he couldn''t trust, it was Angelo with his nk face. "So you won''t agree for the music?" "No. I''m not interested in creating a band now, or any time soon." ''And my first choice of band member would be Nel, anyway. Damn, I''ve been so busy because of the gang business that we barely hung out even before I went to LA again. I wonder what his opinion on Angelo''s idea would be.'' Angelo nodded. "Will you agree for friendship, then?" Tristan narrowed his eyes. "I don''t think we are such great pals, Angelo." "I was afraid you would say something like that. Then, will you agree so I don''t spread a story about your bribery in the Californian Young Star contest?" Outwardly, Tristan just stared coolly, with just enough fearsomeness put into it to make a person nervous. Inwardly, Tristan gaped at the man''s shamelessness. ''He really went all in on this offer! From friendship straight to ckmail! Did he genuinely consider me a friend at all, or does he think that his obsession is more important? But he must''ve nned this from the start¡ªit''s why he wanted to be somewhere private, I bet!'' Angelo was silent, too. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but Tristan hoped he was sweating on the inside. "Your ckmail sucks," he finally said with a dark, hard re at Angelo. "You have no proof and no support. If you even try, then first, I will make sure that every major news outlet speaks about your envy-motivated nder. Second, I will bring you into court for said nder. You will be bankrupt before you can say, ''sorry''." Angelo blinked. Tristan suddenly realized that he wasn''t blinking at all for thest minute. Now his hands began shaking on his knees, too. Angelo''s breathing sped up. There was more blinking. Frowning, Tristan leaned forward. Angelo wasn''t even looking at him anymore, just staring into space and¡­ hyperventting? Without any more warning, Angelo just slid off the couch onto the floor, hugged his knees and hid his face between them. Normally, Tristan wouldn''t feel strange that someone had a total mental breakdown like that because he scared them. It happened before. But right now, his system was strangely quiet. Either it also glitched with Angelo, or Angelo wasn''t actually scared of Tristan and the breakdown was for another reason. Angelo calmed down a minuteter, before Tristan could start actually worrying. He raised a nk face at Tristan. There wasn''t a sign of the breakdown¡ªexcept for Angelo''s pose. "I apologize deeply. I know you must dislike me now, and the music will stay unrealized. It was my fault for taking the wrong approach in convincing you. I wasn''t actually about to nder you, although I know it doesn''t matter if I was." Tristan shook his head. "Do you even know what actual friends are? Certainly not people who ckmail each other." Angelo slowly stood up. "You were my first friend ever, Tristan, but I thought the music was more important. I''m not sure anymore." ''That man¡­ Damn it! I should just tell him to get the hell away from me. But he''s too good as a musician to not use his talents. And perhaps if I keep him around for longer, I will eventually crack his head open. Maybe feed him some truth serum¡­'' This felt like an absolutely wrong decision¡ªbut for the music, it was right. "You know what? You can still record music with me in the future, Angelo. No band, of course¡ªonly sound. But try this shit of yours again, and you are done." Chapter 148: Even more points Two more dayster. When the TV show of the Californian Young Star contest aired its premiere, Tristan and Nelson gathered together at Tristan''s t to watch it¡ªbut mostly to just hang out with beer and pizza. They both were sprawled on the couch, watching Angelo perform his insane two-keyboard-song. When the music ended and the host began talking again, Nelson turned to Tristan. "And he suggested that you two form a band? You know, Tris¡­ That doesn''t seem like such a bad idea, no? It would be like making a band out of, um¡­ Beethoven and Mozart! Absolute domination!" Tristan scoffed and sipped some beer. "Don''t you start, Nel¡­" "Alright, alright. Listening to all the band drama on music news, I get why you don''t want it." "If I''d make a band with anybody, it''d be you, Nel. But I don''t want to." He paused. On the screen, the show switched to ads. "Anyway, how''s that album of yours going? Did you finish thest song you nned?" The two friends chatted like that while the show went on in the background. The stories of the few hand-picked contestants from different citiespeting for the main prize in Los Angeles were just interesting enough to be aired. But after that, the music and the spectacle carried its ratings like wind carries a ship on sails. "¡­and then he just ps himself in the face! For no reason!" Tristan raised a hand with a pizza slice in his hand, as if asking, ''can you believe it?''. Nelsonughed. In the background, the TV show ended, and another bout of ads began. "What were you even doing up sote¡ªno, that''s more like early? The sunrise is when only narcs go out. Especially to buy food." "I¡ª" [Ding!] [Your appearance on national TV impressed 1 million people. Reward: your CP increased by 25000!] [Ding!] [Your Pop-star rank has changed from Adolescent Star to Californian Star! Reward: your CP increased by 3000!] [Ding!] [You have gathered a critical mass of points. A special offer waits for you in the system shop!] "Tristan? You what?" Tristan blinked and re-focused his attention on Nelson. "Sorry, what were you saying?" "I was saying that of course you''d see a narc¡ªonly narcs and weirdos go out so early! Except for you, I suppose¡ªunless you already went high on stardom and started going lines in the bathroom?" Nelson cheekily elbowed Tristan''s side. Tristanughed and pushed him away, but his mind really wasn''t on it. ''This many points! And that shop offer¡ªshit, I want to look at them now¡­ But I don''t want to chase Nel away! We didn''t hang out in forever!'' In the end, hepromised by going to sit on the toilet. ''I will just do this quickly and go back to the remaining beer. Status.'' [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Adolescent Star.] [Criminal rank: King Lion.] [Pop-star Points: 25140] [Criminal Points: 28000] [===Attributes===] [Appearance: 270] [Charisma: 345] [Fearsomeness: 877] [Strength: 679] [Dexterity: 600] [Toughness: 600] [===Skills===] [Singing: 1857] [Dancing: 1079] [ying guitar: 2096] [Music theory: 680] [Music production: 523] [Acting: 1315] [Songwriting: 1724] [Voice control: 811] [Stage presence: 1223] [ying piano: 801] [Video editing: 217] [Styling: 506] [ying flute: 1] [ying violin: 1] [Sneaking: 844] [Close-quartersbat: 1224] [Observation: 2076] [Driving: 618] [Pickpocketing: 533] [Firearms shooting: 1836] [Athletics: 419] [Treating injuries: 201] [Lockpicking: 1001] [Combat analysis: 505] [Hacking: 2431] [Governing: 454] [Torture: 2] [Logistics: 4] [Forgery: 1] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [Bullet Time] [Hypnotic Voice] [Sight Awareness] [Electronic Sight Awareness] [Ambidextrous] [Bilingual (Spanish)] [======] Tristan still had the Pop-star Points he earned earlier. He was holding onto them until now because he was hoping to spend them on some overpowered talents. And because he felt that if he spent them all at once on attributes and skills, then someone would DEFINITELY find it strange. ''Now, what''s that in the shop?'' [===Shop===] [(PERMANENTLY AVAILABLE) Second Identity System upgrade version 1.1 ''Task Force'': 40000 points] [Skill refund: 100 points] [A foreign bank deposit card: 3000 Criminal Points] [======] ''A¡­ version upgrade? There are version upgrades now?! What does "Task Force" even mean here? And it costs 40 thousand points¡­ insane.'' Tristan opened the upgrade''s description. [Congrattions, user! You now can ess an upgrade for your Second Identity System. This upgrade aims to fix the problems the user has been dissatisfied with before and improve rity and conciseness. The key features of the update: ¡ª A rework of skills, ¡ª A new task system rewarding you with points, ¡ª Many new talents, ¡ª A shop rework, ¡ª An option to turn off the sound of notifications. Note: your skills and attributes will be recalcted, but you won''t lose any existing progress or abilities.] ''Wow. It''s like a game update. Things I was dissatisfied with before?'' Tristan suppressed a shudder. ''That thing watches me, doesn''t it? Or¡­ God? The system was sent to me by "Heavenly Lottery", after all.'' He remembered that day vividly, despite never thinking twice about Heavens after that. ''That''s a lot of points to spend on a cat in a bag. I should think longer whether or not I actually want this update! The Second Identity System has been working just fine before, after all.'' With that thought, Tristan flushed the toilet and went back to hanging out. Butter that evening, after Nelson left, after Tristan read an email from Derek congratting him on a sessful TV appearance and drafting the next steps of Tristan''s showbiz career, after Tristan dealt with urgent calls from his criminal subordinates¡­ He thought about that upgrade. For a good hour. And eventually, Tristan pressed the purchase button. [Ding!] [The Second Identity System update is being installed. Bonus talents are being awarded for high skills. You might experience slight dizziness.] The ''slight'' dizziness felt like being thrown into a zero-gravity space. If Tristan wasn''t already sitting in front of hisptop, he''d fall. [Ding!] [You receive a talent for high fearsomeness attribute: ''Freezing re''.] [Ding!] [You receive a talent for high ying guitar skill: ''String Theory''.] [Ding!] ¡­Oh, it was still going. Chapter 149: System upgrade [You receive a talent for high songwriting skill: ''Copycat''.] [You receive a talent for high observation skill: ''Detective''.] [You receive a talent for high firearms shooting skill: ''Blind Shot''.] [You receive a talent for high hacking skill: ''Quick Fingers''.] [Ding!] [The update is installed sessfully. Use the ''update description''mand for more information.] Only after the notifications stopped shing in front of Tristan''s eyes, the dizziness finally stopped. He felt¡­ Mostly the same as before¡ªbut with a body almost humming with potential energy. ''First¡ªsystem, what does my status look like now?'' It looked very different from what Tristan had earlier. Even the interface became more modern and sleek. Some elements stayed the same, though. There were still ranks, attributes, and skills, and some of them were even the same as before. [======] [Tristan Gemello (Tristan Hayes)] [Current identity: Pop-star. Second identity: Criminal.] [Pop-star rank: Adolescent Star.] [Criminal rank: King Lion.] [Pop-star Points: 5140] [Criminal Points: 8000] [===Attributes===] ~~~Pop-star~~~ [Appearance: 270 (Model)] [Charisma: 345 (Stunning)] [Dexterity: 600 (Gymnast)] ~~~Criminal~~~ [Fearsomeness: 877 (Demonic)] [Strength: 679 (Weightlifter)] [Toughness: 600 (Bones of steel)] [===Skills===] ~~~Pop-star~~~ [Vocals: 1938 (Siren)] [String instruments: 2097 (Guitar God)] [Percussion instruments: 0 (Nobody)] [Wind instruments: 1 (Nobody)] [Electronic instruments: 0 (Nobody)] [Keyboard instruments: 801 (Professional Amateur)] [Exotic instruments: 0 (Nobody)] [Songwriting: 2404 (New Beethoven)] [Dancing: 1079 (Dance Floor Legend)] [Acting: 2538 (Drama King)] [Production: 740 (Good)] [Style: 506 (Good)] ~~~Criminal~~~ [Stealth: 844 (Shadow)] [Meleebat: 1224 (Champion)] [Rangedbat: 1836 (Sniper of Snipers)] [Observation: 2076 (Eagle eye)] [Driving: 618 (Good)] [Athletics: 419 (Good)] [Medicine: 203 (Fine)] [Interfacing: 1003 (Great)] [Sleight of hand: 533 (Light Fingers)] [Tactics: 505 (Good)] [Strategy: 458 (Fine)] [Hacking: 2431 (Hacker Man)] [===Talents===] [rk Kent Effect] [Sleepless] [Clean Hands] [Bullet Time] [Hypnotic Voice] [Sight Awareness] [Electronic Sight Awareness] [Ambidextrous] [Bilingual (Spanish)] [Freezing re] [String Theory] [Copycat] [Detective] [Blind Shot] [Quick Fingers] [===Tasks===] [No active tasks yet] [======] Tristan read the entire list of his skills. It felt shorter than before. ''Now there are exactly 12 Pop-star and 12 Criminal skills. Huh. Seems intentional, especially since they are separated more cleanly than before. And they also have¡­ ranks? It looks like ranks. Some are old ones, some are new ones. The rest seems the same. And I have new talents, which I still don''t know what are doing! Alright¡­ Time to read lots of text. System, give me the update description.'' It appeared in front of him immediately, split into categories. [Skill rework: in the current version, exactly 24 skills exist. Some old skills were merged into one skill, and some new ones were added. All skills now have descriptions.] [Skill and attribute ranks: now, all skills and attributes have ranks which reflect the value of skill or attribute in a more practical manner.] [Shop rework: from now on, the selection in the shop is permanent instead of changing every day. New items unlock and appear when you reach their requirements.] [Task system: this is a recement for the old status-based point-gain system. Instead of it, you can now create tasks for yourself. The system will evaluate their value in points, and you will gain 10x points in reward forpleting the task. The system will automatically identify your ns and desires and create appropriate tasks. Only goals rted to your careers can be used as tasks. The system will also create hidden tasks for achievements which you didn''t think about¡ªso don''t worry about losing points because of inattention.] ''A permanent shop? That sounds good. But the rest¡­ I guess the only way I can tell if this update was worth 40000 points or not is by reading the descriptions of the talents I got.'' [Freezing re: you can make people freeze with fright for a brief time with an intense re. The effect works weaker on people with high willpower.] [String Theory: you can see strings of rtionships that connect people with each other.] [Copycat: you can perfectly copy any melody or sound you''ve heard.] [Detective: you can recreate in your mind past events that happened in a ce based on their traces.] [Blind Shot: you can reliably locate targets with all your senses and aim at them even when blind.] [Quick Fingers: you can type incredibly fast.] Tristan looked at the descriptions for a moment, then grinned. ''Yeah, that was totally worth at least ten grand. I don''t think I will need to copy anything¡­ Hm. How does the String Theory talent work, though?'' He looked down at himself, and following an instinct, squinted a bit. Through his eyshes, he saw dozens of transparent stringsing out of his chest. Green, blue, ck, violet and others, with different thickness¡­ He had no idea what they meant. He supposed he would have to find it with practice. But it was already exciting. ''Next step would be trying out if this task system is even worth it. Making a task¡­ Hm¡­ I assume that testing the task system doesn''t count. What does? Say¡­ Finishing my album?'' Before Tristan could think any more, he got a new notification. [Ding!] [New Pop-star task: release your first album. Value: 100 + extra (based on album''s reception).] Now it was on Tristan''s task list, too. ''This was easy, but the reward is still pretty vague¡­ Alright, then one for the Criminal identity, so it''d be even!'' This time, Tristan had to think for longer before the system dinged him. [Ding!] [New Criminal task:plete the restructuring of the King Lion Gang and move its main HQ to Los Angeles. Value: 300.] The two tasks looked nice in his status panel. [===Tasks===] ~~~Pop-star~~~ [Release your first album. Value: 100 + extra (based on album''s reception).] ~~~Criminal~~~ [Complete the restructuring of the King Lion Gang and move its main HQ to Los Angeles. Value: 300.] [======] ''Good. Very neat-looking.'' Before he went to do anything else, Tristan went to the system setting and turned off the damned dinging. ''Since I will still have hidden tasks, these open tasks seem to exist more so I could see how many points this or that action will give me,'' Tristan mused. ''Anyway, there''s still one thing I didn''t check out. System, open shop!'' Chapter 150: Shop upgrade Another panel opened in front of Tristan¡ªan entire treasurepared to the short list he was used to. [===Shop===] [''Heat Vision'' talent: 3000 Criminal Points] [A skill refund: 100 points] [A driving license: 1000 points (tap to choose identity)] [An exceptional quality instrument: 3000 Pop-star Points (tap to choose type)] [Glock 19: 1000 Criminal Points] [1 ammo magazine for Glock 19: 300 Criminal Points] [Barrett MRAD sniper rifle with an optic scope: 5000 Criminal Points] [1 ammo magazine for Barrett MRAD: 500 Criminal Points] [Abat knife: 500 Criminal Points] [Hard armor level IV bulletproof vest: 4000 Criminal Points] [A foreign bank deposit card: 3000 Criminal Points] [A dose of truth serum: 1500 Criminal Points] [A burner phone: 500 Criminal Points] [A set of clothing (random): 300 points] [A disguise set (random): 500 points] [A dose of poison (random): 1000 Criminal Points] [A set of lockpicks: 3000 Criminal Points] [======] ''Oh, nice! I can buy truth serum! I assume more than one, too. Might as well test it right now.'' Tristan bought a vial of truth serum and was happy to see that the position didn''t disappear from the store. He still had 6500 CP and 5140 PP left. ''A lot of these things are ones that I can just buy with money and some time. But it''s good to be able to just get them in an hour of need. If I have points to spare, that is. Speaking of¡ªit''s time to increase my stats!'' With that vicious thought, Tristan opened his status panel. [Appearance attribute increased from 270 to 570.] [Appearance rank increased from Model to Top Model.] [Charisma attribute increased from 345 to 559.] [Charisma rank increased from Stunning to Enchanting.] [Toughness attribute increased from 600 to 800.] Tristan really liked the sight of his new stats. Now he had 0 PP left and 4500 CP for life-threatening emergencies. ''Now all that''s left is to work and earn money. And when my first album is released¡­'' Tristan closed his eyes, dreaming, imagining them¡ªfaces of his family members. Mother, father, brother¡­ ''I will trample them. No, even better¡ªI will rise so high above them that they will be nothing more than dirt under the soles of my shoes.'' *** Same time, different ce. Daniel Hayes was sitting in a chair in his dressing room, while his personal stylist made sure that not a single dimple was visible on his face, and not a hair was out of ce on his head. It was a very important day, after all¡ªa concert premiering histest music album, "Love & Agony". Behind Daniel his manager was reading something on her phone. Daniel could see her pretty face in the mirror when the stylist wasn''t in the way. Daniel was about to step out onto a stage soon, and under the spotlights and shes of cameras, he had to look perfect. But the lengthy styling procedures always made him feel bored. "Tell me something interesting, someone," heined. "Any juicy gossip recently?" The stylist pressed her lips together and moved from his face to the hair. The manager, Joanne Gullimaine, met Daniel''s eyes in the mirror. "Californian Young Star contest of this year ended recently. The winner, Tristan Gemello, is promised a bright career," Joanne said. "He''s a rare genius, as journalists say. There are also rumors that he goes around, befriending his rivals, and some people want them all to make a boy-band. It''s all in the same article." "Californian Young Star?" Daniel scoffed. "Who cares about that contest for small fish? Give me better gossip, Joanne!" Joanne suppressed a scowl. The article was on top of the page, and pretty popr, too. "He''s your potential rival now, Mr. Hayes. You perform in simr styles and will inevitably fight for the audience. Of course, he''s far from your fame yet, but¡­ In the modern show business scene, hypees and goes like a storm." "What are you saying, Joanne?" Daniel asked venomously. "Are you telling me I should be afraid of some amateur? Me? Who do you think you are to speak about me like that, Joanne?" ''You are a spoiled rich brat who got himself a music career thanks to his parents'' cash!'' Joanne wanted to say, but bit her tongue and looked down at her phone. Not for the first time. Like many people with wealth and power, Daniel had no responsibility. When provoked, he could easily start speaking much harsher words. "No, Mr. Hayes. Of course not¡­ I apologize, I will find something better." A scroll of the news feed showed an article about yet another celebrity couple cheating on each other. The celebrities weren''t very famous, but just hearing about other people''s problems cheered Daniel up. When all preparations wereplete and it was almost time to go on stage, Daniel was smiling. "I can already hear all the fans cheering for me in the audience hall. This album will be on top of the charts! And critics already love it." Joanne nodded. "There could be no other way. Of course everybody loves them, Mr. Hayes. They hit the current market perfectly, and they are great songs." Daniel grinned at her and went to the stage, toward the cheering fans. Soon, he was about to reach the top 25 in music charts. *** Two monthster. Christmas and New Years came and went. Tristan watched his brother''stest musical doings closely. In the two years since Tristanst saw him, Daniel built himself a bright career under the stage name of Daniel Dumon. Losing Tristan as apetitor really let him use all the family connections and money to the extreme. And Tristan''s name was never mentioned in interviews with the Hayes family. Seeing the sess of Daniel''stest album made Tristan work even harder on his own album, while GTG agency and his manager organized the album''s release and marketing. They had to hurry to get the most from the hype of the recent CYS contest show. There was going to be a live concert arranged with Tristan ying the album in front of the live audience in Los Angeles¡ªsomething he was extremely excited about. And then¡ªa blow. Chapter 151: A setback By this point, Tristan had moved to Los Angeles full time, although the King Lion Gang was still catching up with him. With all the dirty and clean money, he could afford a spacious apartment for each identity, full offortable things and storage space. Far from his best friend and close to the bunch of weirdos who were his allies in the criminal world¡­ But Nelson was nning to move to greener pastures too soon. And the GTG agency was eager to make a new office for themselves near Hollywood. When the bad news came, though, Tristan was far from his apartment. He wasworking, as in, attending one of the small-scale parties he had been invited to in a local restaurant. The call came at a fortunate moment¡ªthere was a girl trying to get ufortably close to Tristan. He liked the attention, but he didn''t like her, so he eagerly escaped outside the restaurant to reply. The air was fresh, and it was only early evening¡ªbut it was still unusual to hear a call from Derek at this time of the day. "Mr. Gemello! I''m afraid we will have to reschedule the album release date. There was an emergency¡­" "An emergency?" Tristan asked into the phone receiver. "Derek, what emergency? The release date is next month, and the album is ready for it! And so was the marketing, as you told me." "Yes, yes. They still are, Mr. Gemello. It was all a big stroke of bad luck. We all thought that the GTG agency was lucky that we could secure a ce as big as we did, but¡­ The stadium closed today without prior announcement. There was an ident." Tristan frowned. He nced at the restaurant and began walking toward his parked car, abandoning the party altogether. The stadium chosen for the premiere could fit 15000 people in the audience. Far from the biggest venue in Los Angeles, but impressive enough. GTG only invested in it because of the profit Tristan already made for them with his few released songs. They all were very sessful for singles from a newbie, even that improvised Christmas song. It really was lucky that Derek could organize this, too, on a rtively short notice of a few months. "An ident? Derek, what exactly happened?" "Someone broke a leg when a part of the stage fell apart, and the building safety inspectors closed the entire stadium tob it through for safety vitions. I have already contacted the venue manager, and from what he told me¡­ The ce won''t be open anytime soon. It''s not about safety vitions anymore, there are legal issues. Lawsuits being thrown around, and so on. They already opened the ticket refunds, too." Derek sighed into the call. He hated to be the bearer of bad news, although by now, he at least had confidence that Tristan won''t be hysterical over them like many celebrities could be. On the other end of the call, Tristan was gritting his teeth in silent rage. "I will look into other avable options, Mr. Gemello. Many things will have to be moved¡­ But the album will still be released, and I have no doubts that it will still be sessful. This is just one setback, and one that''s far from devastating." Even through the phone call, Tristan could imagine Derek''s kind, encouraging smile in these words. It softened the anger in Tristan''s gut a little. "And what are the options now, Derek?" "Well, we can find and schedule another venue for the album premiere concert, or we can forget the concert. It''s good for marketing, but not necessary at all. Personally, I think that rescheduling the concert will be a smarter choice. There''s been plenty of interest from your fans already, and I don''t want to disappoint them." Tristan thought for a moment. Derek was right, but¡­ "But the hype from the CYS contest show will die in a few more months, Derek. The album will perform well¡ªbut not as well as it could''ve been!" "It already won''t, Mr. Gemello. One way or another¡­ The result will be more or less the same. Besides, you were so excited to perform on arge stage. Aren''t you, still?" Tristan was. But he didn''t like losing things, failures and setbacks. He had enough of these in life, now he wanted victories. ''Maybe¡­ Maybe there''s still a chance?'' "Derek, put that decision off for a few days. I need to think." "Alright. Few days won''t change things drastically." Tristan nodded and bid the manager goodbye. With the call ended, he reached his car and sat in. His mood for partying andworking was over. ''I wasn''t doing this all for no reason. Perhaps one of the people I''ve charmed could help?'' Tristan had to make a lot of calls and send a lot of messages now¡ªevening was a good time for that, the time when people weren''t working their day jobs. He took in a breath and drove toward his apartment. This was going to be a long evening. *** Two dayster. Finding a person who could help Tristan arrange a venue for a concert within an impossibly short time frame was not a matter of convincing people. He could do that. It was a matter of finding the right people to convince! Tristan had dozens of acquaintances by now, and all of them were useless. "Sorry, but I know nothing that might help." "Oh, my agency always deals with these things¡­ I don''t even know many ces!" And so on and so forth. Many people were also just hard to reach¡ªtoo busy to reply immediately. When Tristan got some hope, it was a message from a person like that¡ªa person who needed two full days to read and send a reply to Tristan''s voice message. The reply was a text. Because, of course, a recluse like Asher Ilom won''t call back. [You are lucky¡ªI know someone¡­ But if I''m going to ASK that person for YOUR sake, Gemello, then you are going to do something for me in return.] [Alright, Mr. Ilom. What do you want?] Chapter 152: A task for the charmer At least this time, Tristan didn''t have to wait two days for the answer. [Help me convince Diana Swallow to be the lead actress in my next movie. It''s got to be her! If not her¡­ it will be so, so much worse. I will give you her contacts.] Tristan read the message again in slight disbelief. The name Diana Swallow felt vaguely familiar. A quick search told him she was a moderately famous actress with a stereotypical "tall, blond, thin, and beautiful" image. She usually yed tragic roles in sad movies. There wasn''t anything particrly special about Diana, except for a few scandals with supposed drug use, and a slight air of mncholying from her even on photos where she was smiling for the cameras. Frowning, Tristan began typing his response. [You want me to do the convincing? This will only look weird. I''m not one of your workers, and not Diana''s friend or even an acquaintance. I can repay you in some other way¡ªa promotion, perhaps?] [I know how it will look like, Hayes. Do you think I''m that dense? But I already sent my HR person to convince her¡­ I even talked to her myself! She refused as soon as she read the summary of the script. All I know is that it''s not about the money or prestige. Hell, her own personal assistant tried to convince her to take the role.] Tristan could almost imagine Ilom spitting out the words like acid. If that was any other man, Tristan would''ve thought that Ilom had a crush on the actress. But Ilom seemed like a person who feared people too much to have crushes on anyone. [Let''s say I do that, Mr. Ilom. Can you actually help with my problem, though?] [Yes! I don''t care how, but get her on board for me, and I will arrange for you a great ce for your concert. There''s The Bad stadium. It can host 20 thousand people, and the manager owes me¡­ plenty. I can make him give you a slot next month. But Dianaes first! I will give you her contacts.] That was even better than Tristan''s previous venue. It could still not work out, but at least Tristan could try this. Besides, he was a pro at convincing people. [Alright, Mr. Ilom. It''s a deal¡ªbut I will need the movie script summary, too.] [I will send it.] [And one more question, Mr. Ilom¡ªdo you have a brother?] There wasn''t an immediate reply. Tristan wondered if Ilom had escaped the conversation whatsoever. Maybe asking was a mistake. With a shrug, Tristan went to get himself a drink (non-alcoholic), and while he was at it, a sandwich. When he returned to theptop, there was a new message. [I don''t know what possessed you to ask, but fucking forget that thing, Hayes. For your own sake.] This basically confirmed it. Tristan wondered since he first met Damien, but could ask only now. Damien "Sea Devil" with an unknown surname and Asher Ilom. They had nothing inmon except looking like twins. Because they were, apparently. ''I don''t need to dig into this anymore. I have plenty of leverage on Damien already, and this probably won''t help me to deal with Ilom.'' Tristan huffed. He was still curious, though. This was too simr to his own situation, while being drastically different. ''Alright, I might ask Damien next time, when there''s a good opportunity. Hm. Can I make it a task?..'' It refused to add. Tristan added two other tasks instead. [New task: convince Diana Swallow to take part in Asher Ilom''s next movie. Value: 100.] [New task: get a new venue for your concert until the end of next month. Value: 500.] Both tasks went into the "Pop-star" category. Tristan finished eating his sandwich and shook the crumbs off his knees. ''Time to roll. Research first, then finding this Diana. I only have a few days if I want to get into the timeline.'' *** The script for Ilom''s next movie was unfinished and unnamed, but what Tristan got was enough to give him an impression. The main character was a depressed secretary who had descended to the very bottom of substance abuse and reckless behavior. However, she meets a homeless child, and through helping him with his own problems, also finds in herself to recover from addiction and build a better life. It was a movie with a clear message of hope. Tristan thought that having the protagonist be a woman was a bad idea, but it wasn''t like he was a movie critic. Ilom also told Tristan the words of Diana''sst refusal¡ªone that was personally to him. "This is a nice fairytale you want me to take part in. Ask someone more na?ve, though." That gave Tristan at least some insight into her character. In the morning, he sent her an invitation to meet and talk. He hesitated about telling the reason for the conversation, but eventually added that it was about Ilom''s movie. Tristan feared that otherwise Diana or her PA would refuse outright. Now at least Diana''s PA will be on Tristan''s side. *** Next morning. Diana agreed to meet Tristan in her own house. Her territory, her living room with clinically clean walls and bleak modern-style furniture. She was sitting in a wicker chair, smoking a long cigarette with a sweet fruit smell. Diana was dressed in a casual light gray blouse and pants, but she made even those simple items look good. Diana made mncholy look good. And she was reeking of mncholy. Tristan could read it in the line of her mouth and eyes. Mncholy was her resting expression. She only lifted her eyes at Tristan when he sat opposite of her. Behind him, Diana''s PA quietly left the room and closed the door, but Tristan heard the other woman''s footsteps stop almost immediately. ''She''s listening in. Out of curiosity, or to interfere if she feels the need to?'' Tristan nced between the two women another time. With his recent talent, String Theory, he could see a green-blue line between them. By this point, he knew that blue color represented loyalty, and green went for friendship. There were very few blue or green stringsing from Diana. There were very few strings at all. "His manager, himself, and now apletely unaffiliated person¡­ Whom else Ilom will send to hound my doorstep after I refuse, Mr. Gemello?" Diana asked instead of greeting. Tristan smiled back at her, unaffected by the prickliness. "Honestly? I think if he could send art police to bring you to him, he totally would''ve. But maybe, say, mafia?" Tristan chuckled, showing that it was only a joke. In the light of recent revtions, it sounded like a real possibility. Diana smiled with a corner of her mouth and took another drag of her cigarette. Tristan noticed her eyes being slightly bloodshot. A hangover? "The answer is still no, though. I don''t know why you are helping Ilom, Mr. Gemello, but you can use that effort to convince him to find another actress." "I might," Tristan said honestly. "But I still want to talk with you first. If you don''t mind. At the very least, you seem like a person who is interesting to talk with." Tristan wasying his charm thickly by this point. He could tell it was working a little, because Diana looked at him curiously, and appeared to be more alive than before. The mncholy didn''t disappear, though. "Such a tterer," Diana said. "I don''t see you convincing me, unless the movie script changes drastically. Which it won''t, or so Ilom told me already. He was very adamant about his vision of the movie." Tristan nodded. He understood as much. Even if he managed to just press on her with his charm and his hypnotizing voice, it will be all for nothing if Diana changed her mind a weekter when Tristan was out of her sight. To convince her truly, he had to first find why she was against this in the first ce. "Why do you disagree with the script so much, if you don''t mind me asking, Ms. Swallow? Actually, may I call you Diana instead?" "Why not? You may. As for your question¡­ I''m sure Ilom told you already." "Alright. Then I should ask a better question instead. What''s your problem with fairytales?" Diana frowned. "They are just way too na?ve. They make people forget what world they live in and do foolish things." "Good things happen in the real world, though. Even miracles sometimes." Diana stared at Tristan searchingly for a moment. "Is that what you really believe in? Well, I''m not one to judge. But it''s a statistical improbability." Tristan remembered what he read about the woman on the news, and pieces began to fall together. It was only a vague idea at that point, though. A shot in the dark. But Tristan was a great shot. "You think that if Ilom''s story happened in real life, the protagonist wouldn''t have reached the happy ending, Diana? If that protagonist was a real person¡­ someone like you, even?" Chapter 153: The first complete task Dianaughed wryly. "What are the chances? Of course not. I bet you wouldn''t have failed on the ''road to recovery'', too. People who think that they got better just weren''t that low in the first ce." Tristan grinned, too, as if he also found that funny¡ªbut in reality, he was d about what he saw. From the way Diana spoke and acted, it was easy to think that Tristan''s question didn''t affect her at all. But Tristan''s keen observation skill let him notice the slightest sh of surprise in Diana''s eyes. His acting skill helped, too. Diana was acting, and Tristan could almost imagine what role she picked. ''It''s like she wants to believe that there was never a hope for her, so she won''t feel guilty about not being better than she is. Whatever her problems are.'' Tristan examined her features for another moment. ''She looks like someone who does drugs in secret. These scandals in the past might''ve been for a reason.'' Now that Tristan had a reason why Diana refused, he coulde up with a convincing argument. And then tell Ilom that he needs to arrange a psychologist for her if he doesn''t want Diana to go on benders in the middle of the film shootings. ''But she certainly fits the role perfectly. If Ilom didn''t know about Diana''s problems for certain, then he has a strong intuition to pick her out like that.'' Tristan was silent for a while longer, thinking. Diana went quiet, too, just studying and admiring him. With the charm Tristan had and the beauty of his face, it was hard to look at him without some admiration. "Alright, Diana. I understand now." He smirked jokingly. "You just don''t want to take that role, fail miserably at it, and be aughingstock of the entire Hollywood for years." "Huh?" Diana chuckled. "No, to beughingstock, I''d have to do stic surgeries until my face bes paralyzed. And even then I will be better than the worst actors." This was a bet, but it worked. It was impossible to reach Diana''s ce in the industry without at least some professional pride. Which he just offended. Now Tristan stopped even pretending that he was goading her. But the force of his charm made it incredibly hard to just dismiss him, even if the tactic was immature. "If that''s true, then why you always y the roles of the most tragic and sad women, Diana? Are you unable to show happiness on camera at all? Are you one of these ''one role actors''?" Diana took a drag of her cigarette and blew smoke out of her nostrils like an angry dragon. "Now you are acting immature, Gemello. I hope this is just thest thing you didn''t try yet to convince me, and you are being desperate." Her words were steady and only a bit angry. "The one to be desperate should be you. At this point, you have a reputation. Unless a miracle happens, you will be stuck with tragic roles forever. And let''s be honest¡ªtragedies are good and all, but they aren''t the most popr movies out there. They won''t bring you to the top ranks. Ilom''s offer is a break which you need to prove to everybody that you can do more." Diana was silent. ''And now, the finishing blow.'' "The movie is just a fairytale, as you put it. There''s no need to take it seriously at all. It''s strange that you did it in the first ce. Just take the role, y it, and you can go home with a paycheck and good prospects for future roles from other producers!" With a rapid movement, Diana extinguished her cigarette on a crystal ashtray standing on a table near her. "I think we spoke for long enough, Gemello. This was my smoke break, and it just ended. Please, leave." Tristan stood up without hurry. The sudden coldness¡­ He was almost sure he got her. At the very least, he was sure he would get her the next day, after his words sank deeper in her head. "Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you, Diana." He shed her a grin and went to the exit. Unsurprisingly, Diana''s personal assistant was loitering nor far from there. She pretended she wasn''t listening in and led Tristan out. Before leaving, Tristan turned to speak with her. "I think I gave Ms. Swallow a lot to think about today. Try to not let her escape these thoughts, please. They will be good for her, I''m sure." Tristan smiled. "I can see you care about Ms. Swallow''s wellbeing. And you already want her to take that role, so¡­" The woman frowned. "I''m just doing my job." "Well, do it well, then. Goodbye." Tristan left, already nning a next day''s visit to this ce. *** By evening, he knew he wouldn''t have to. First, he was notified by his system. [Taskplete: convince Diana Swallow to take part in Asher Ilom''s next movie. Reward: your CP increased by 1000!] Second, he was notified by Asher Ilom. [Amazing. I didn''t believe you would actually do it. But you did it, and in only a day! This makes me afraid to talk with you myself. Good thing you aren''t an actor, Gemello. Diana just contacted me, saying that she changed her mind on the role. I will do my part of the deal as soon as I can and will give all the important details of it to your manager.] Tristan read the message and grinned. [Yes, I''m just that good. By the way, be careful with her¡ªI''m 100% sure Diana is addicted to something. Get her to go to a psychiatrist, or something. It looks like your movie hits too close to home for her. I convinced her to do it mostly out of spite.] [Ugh. Insufferable¡­ I will take your advice into consideration, Gemello.] Now all that was left was to notify Derek that the album''s release could proceed as nned. The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!