Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

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 place 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 the last 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 explain."

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 plastic 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 slap 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 become 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 slapped 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 replaced 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—she 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—Carlos or Carlos' boss—wanted 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 played 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—"

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!—"

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—immediately!" Pierce named an address. "There was—is!—an attack there. Go there, and at least track the perpetrators if you can't stop them in time!"