Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Next day.

Another hall, another gala—more 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 glass of sparkling water in a shade where his black 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—just 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 glass.

"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—these 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 planned 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, sensations last 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'?"

"The latter," Tristan threw back. "I can lie down sick all I want AFTER I'm done here."

For now, he best forget his other career completely, be social and mingle.

As if on cue, the ambient music played by a small live orchestra changed to a classic 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, slay 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 his competition. 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 musical label, 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 slapped 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.'