Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Nobody stopped Tristan—now Tristan Gemello again—as he returned to his place in the VIP seats. On the stage, Nelson was on the last songs from the album.

Tristan had missed a lot of the performances, but his absence wasn't noticed, and this was the most important part.

For Nelson's last song, the smoke generators on the stage were turned on to the fullest. By the end, there was enough smoke that Nelson could walk into it and disappear like a dream.

The cheering of the audience showed they loved this grand finale, even if the smoke must've made people in the front rows pretty uncomfortable.

'Nel is good at using the stage effects… But this, I think, was really skirting on the edge of acceptable fire security of the place.' Tristan let out a breath and shook his head. 'This isn't an open ground.'

The overhead lights turned on, and the ventilation was working hard to clean the air.

The show was over, and nothing exploded. But it could've.

Tristan forced down his sneer and stood up. He could've come up with a reason and left quickly to deal with the bomber right now, but he didn't want to, even if the unanswered questions irked him.

He waited for this day for a long time! Tristan was going to enjoy it and have a good time with his friend.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

***

Half an hour later.

"A good time" was an after-party in a bar nearby, which was reserved for Nelson and his guests. There were only a couple dozen of guests: important people from Nelson's production crew, and a few personal friends.

Besides Tristan, there were a few other rising or not very well-known artists. Nelson's rise brought him quite a few green-eyed looks, but his earnestness earned him just as many friends.

After his performance, Nelson was still sweaty and dressed in a stage costume, but his smile was brighter than the sun.

Standing at the head of the several tables put together, he raised a flute of champagne in the air.

"Let's toast for the success of this concert! My first real concert—shit, I just can't!" He hiccuped from the sheer emotion, and his eyes became misty with tears. "Just a year ago, I never thought I'd reach this far. In my wildest dreams, maybe. And yet, here I am! Thousands of people actually listen to the shit I write! Isn't that insane, huh?"

Tristan stood up from his seat of honor next to Nelson and clapped his shoulder.

"Insane? Don't bring yourself down! Now drink—for success!"

He raised his own flute up.

"Right. For success!" Nelson echoed. "But also, for all of you, guys. And girls. I love you all!"

"Thank you for the kind words, Mayar," Derek said. Right now, even he put away a bit of his ever-present formalities. "Don't doubt—you deserve your place. For your success!"

"Cheers!"

"That was a show for the ages, Nelson!"

"I loved working with you!"

People cheered and downed their champagne. Light conversations sparkled naturally between people, many of which were friends already. There was more alcohol—but not too much—and snacks.

Then Derek had to take a call and returned with a deep frown on his face. He didn't say a thing, just hovered closer to the edges of the party, but Tristan still noticed his mood—couldn't really stop noticing things.

'Did something happen? Something bad and important, but not urgent? Perhaps I should ask. Maybe they found the bomb in the concert hall, or the security guards finally realized that there was no security agent and told the police?'

Tristan gracefully extracted himself from his current conversation and drifted toward Derek.

"Is something the matter, Derek?" he asked.

The manager shook his head and tried to smile.

"Nothing you should think about right now, I believe, Gemello. This is Mayar's moment, I don't want to ruin it."

Tristan's eyes narrowed.

"Ruin it? If it can ruin the moment, then you definitely should tell. Tell me, I mean."

When Derek looked at Tristan, he was met with a serious, inquisitive gaze that left no room for evasion. Derek let out a shuddering breath.

"Let's have a smoke break, then."

Tristan didn't point out that neither of them smoked, just nodded and walked with Derek to the quiet alley where the entrance to the bar was. There, the manager silently opened something on his smartphone and showed it to Tristan.

[A COORDINATED TERRORIST ATTACK TAKES LIVES AT LOS ANGELES SHOWS]

Tristan tensed immediately. After that, not a single muscle on his eyes twitched as he read the rest of the article.

[At least four coordinated terrorist attacks were attempted at various Los Angeles shows today. Our special news reporters are searching for more information at this very moment…]

[The terrorists planned to plant explosive devices in various concert venues over the city. According to our reporters, at least one terrorist act was stopped by the local security forces, however…]

[…from the statements publicly given by terrorists before they detonated their explosives, they asked the public to denounce pop-culture and turn back to God. A representative of the Mormon Church had already given a statement…]

[…several dozen people dead from the explosion, and many more wounded. The police withhold exact numbers.]

[Famous singer and model Lady Combinia was hospitalized with injuries; the exact state of her health is currently kept from the public.]

'So. This bomber I stopped—he wasn't working alone, as he claimed. There were others! And… Shit. Now I can tell this wasn't aimed at me—but also—what the hell?!'

There was just so much to process at once. Tristan's mind was scattering as he picked at the threads.

With swift, practiced motions—barely thinking about it—he opened his status and put the fresh 5000 Pop-star Points he had into his imagination.

Derek was still watching him, but to him, these gestures looked like nothing more than swiping some dust from the smartphone screen in Tristan's hands.

[Imagination attribute increased from 100 to 600.]

[Your imagination rank has changed from Daydreamer to Visionary.]

[Task complete: increase imagination attribute to at least your intelligence attribute. Reward: your CP increased by 1000!]

Tristan's mind opened wider, holding all the threads. Weaving them into a single web. The picture became clear in an instant, as well as its many deeper implications.

The bomber didn't lie to Tristan, after all—Tristan was sure. The man was too scared to lie. He thought he worked alone, but clearly, someone gave the ideas and the means to several people.

But the mysterious mastermind did it subtly, letting at least Tristan's bomber to believe he came up with things on his own.

And the thing was an ideology-driven terrorist attack. From the news article, the terrorists claimed that the "cult of stardom" is an "atrocity against the true God" and people had to "unmake their idols or suffer hell".

Tristan didn't read any posts referencing this article online, but he was ready to bet that there were enough fanatics supporting the terrorists.

Notably, they didn't claim to be from any terrorist groups, new or known ones. This was unusual—terrorists usually wanted to be known as a name that put fear into the minds of people.

'It feels less like normal terrorism, and more like the work of one person. Either someone who chose this unusual method of attack to cover for a mundane goal of killing or scaring certain people, or an actual fanatic who was honest about his message. No matter which, though…'

Tristan returned the phone to Derek.

"Yeah, this is an absolute shit-tornado. In a few hours, everybody will start to panic. Thanks for not dumping it on the others."

Derek nodded and smiled wryly.

"This isn't my first time containing dangerous news. People in the industry love being overdramatic sometimes. But this time, there's no being 'over' anything, I'm afraid."

Tristan nodded.

"Shows are going to be canceled—by the state government and by the organizers themselves. For those that aren't, ticket sales for anything are going to plummet. At least a few fanatics will try to join the bandwagon and make their own terrorist attacks because they think it's a great idea. And if a leader appears to lead them, well…" Stay tuned with empire

Tristan trailed off.

There were more possibilities in his mind. It all went down to the origin of this terrorist attack.

Someone tried to blow up his friend, and coincidentally Tristan himself, and apparently the entire showbiz industry. Even if the latter couldn't be just blown up, someone wanted to.

'Unforgivable. And dangerous.' Tristan clenched his fist.

[New task: discover the mastermind behind the Los Angeles terrorist attack. Value: 1000.]

[New task: destroy the mastermind behind the Los Angeles terrorist attack. Value: 1000.]

The first one was a pop-star task, the second was a criminal one. Tristan frowned at them.

'Neither will be easy.'

"It looks like your tour will have to be delayed for an unknown amount of time, Tristan," Derek said with a sad smile. "Well. We probably should return to the party before anyone misses us, don't you agree?"