Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

"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 similar 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 replaced 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 solar 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 the last minute.

Andrew Pierce, Tristan Gemello's boss, was standing several meters away. Now he clapped 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."

At last, 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—I got carried away. I'm always on the lookout for people of your talents. And you—I think I heard about you. So if you are interested in a well-paying job fitting your skills, come to this place."

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 accepted it, hiding his shock.

'That dingy place… Was it always a front for some crime operation? Hell, I should've thought about this. It explains the amount of money and lack of taste in people who come there! Nothing explains 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—just 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 elaborate 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!'