Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Tristan wanted to find all he could about No Hope. His existence didn't let him sleep in peace.

If No Hope was another system user, what were the chances of him NOT attacking him one day, for a personal reason or because he had been hired by someone?

As a precaution, Tristan put some of his information-gathering network into research of No Hope's identity. He made it a criminal task in his system, worth 2000 points.

And alongside it, Tristan worked with his Mexican puppet. Tristan sent him instructions on what to do and how to best organize his forces. In the first few days, it already showed a good result.

And while that was happening, Tristan's other identity was preparing a tour.

Tristan Gemello's tour has been preparing for way too long already. The restrictions that made it so problematic to organize didn't disappear overnight after Michael's death.

Tristan had planted some evidence—all electronic messages and e-mails—on one of the FBI's suspects. There was not enough to convict the man, but enough to pin him as the root of everything.

When he quietly disappeared later, and there were no more terrorist attacks, the regulations began to be lifted one by one. Mostly because capitalism and the money-making machine of show business couldn't be stopped for long, not even because of the risk of death.

And a couple months later, Tristan was about to go on his first actual tour. He even had a task in his system, worth 1000 points (before multiplier)—"successfully finish your first tour".

He was going to leave California and visit all the biggest American cities. To travel faster, Tristan was renting a private jet.

Perhaps he would even buy one later.

Derek had left his second protégé—Nelson—to the care of one of his helpers, and went on this journey with Tristan, Tristan's personal assistant, and an entire group of various helpers. Background musicians, dancers, technicians, security and general help—the rented private jet was full to the brim.

Tristan sat in one of the best seats, looking at the clouds from the window. If he tilted his head, he could see the ground far below. Everything was so tiny—so easy to own.

It was only a matter of time, if Tristan put his mind to it. Would he?

He wasn't sure. There had to be a limit after which having power lost most of its sense.

'Perhaps after I can give orders to the presidents… Then I can be satisfied,' Tristan thought.

The first stop of the tour was only a short flight away—Las Vegas.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

A city of casinos, sand and flash weddings. Tristan promised himself to not get drunk in this place.

Derek was an experienced enough organizer that the entire unpacking of the equipment and dealing with the concert venue went without a major hitch. Tristan was experienced enough with travel to not be affected by a change in climate or by new surroundings.

The Las Vegas concert was going to happen on a large open stage, with several thousand people in attendance. Many of Tristan's fans came wearing clothing with his name, or cover of his "Kinds of Animals" album, or even put on animal masks.

Tristan himself was wearing a bird mask, although the songs from the "Kinds of Animals" album weren't the only ones he planned to play today.

He already announced it, and right now, people were selling CDs with Tristan's new singles—almost a mini-album of them. Tristan had prepared these songs just for this occasion.

Four of them were mostly to fill space, and to serve as a background to the fifth one. There, Tristan poured his best efforts—all the skills and talents he owned.

Its name was "Hypnotic". It really fitted the song's contents.

"Hypnotic" was much slower than Tristan's average song, almost a ballad, compared to his usual fast-paced metal. It was still a rock song, though, with guitars and bass.

Tristan sang about nothing in particular there, with the words picked for their sound, not their meaning. But his voice was truly hypnotic, and the entire song was designed to go past people's ears directly to their brain, where it flicked all the switches that made people enjoy music at all.

If normal songs were like beer, that song was crack cocaine—no preamble, all high. But diluted, because after a small test hearing Tristan did, giving people the full force of what Tristan could do threatened to be dangerous for their health.

Which won't do well for his sales.

This diluted version was how Tristan performed the song today, and still, it made the entire audience go deathly quiet. Nobody tapped, clapped, or said a word as Tristan's rich voice flew from the speakers.

People were staring at him with unseeing eyes, and their faces were full of bliss. Audio bliss they couldn't, and didn't want to, escape.

When the song ended, it took another half a minute for people to wake up. There were no cheers after the "Hypnotic", because people were too out of it to cheer.

But after they did, and after Tristan played another song… People shouted all together,

"HYP-NO-TIC! HYP-NO-TIC!"

Tristan didn't even finish playing his album, and they were already asking for a second dose.

In this moment, he knew he could sell people audio drugs as easily as ordinary ones.

The only thing that stopped Tristan was his desire to make and play actual music. He liked music more than he liked earning money.

"Hypnotic" was going to stay the only song like it was in Tristan's repertoire, and eventually, people were going to get used to it and its existence.

Or so Tristan hoped.

The tour continued without further incidents onward to Salt Lake City, Denver, Oklahoma City, Memphis, Louisville, Washington D.C., Philadelphia, and Boston.

The CDs and the merchandise were sold in heaps. Tristan gave his signatures to fans and shook hands with VIP guests.

And nothing had warned Tristan about the danger he found himself in.