Gangster to Idol

Cain returned to CROSS HQ, the atmosphere heavy with uncertainty. He called for an emergency meeting, planning on telling everyone about his short leave from the gang.

"You'll be leaving?" Joker's usual smirk faded, replaced by a rare frown, while Bones' laughter died down to a concerned silence.

"Just temporarily," Cain reassured them, his voice calm. "I'll still visit once or twice a month, but my job requires me to be out of town for a while."

Joker eyed Cain with suspicion, his frown deepening. "Cain, why are you taking these jobs all of a sudden? You never liked working before."

Cain took a deep breath, and lied out of his breath, "Well, I like this one, and I'm planning to pursue it seriously."

His words hung in the air, and the room fell into a stunned silence. Joker, Bones, and the rest of the gang members exchanged uneasy glances, their leader's sudden change of heart catching them off guard.

"Boss, are you really leaving us?" one of the members asked, his voice tinged with worry.

"Is CROSS going to disband?" another chimed in, fear creeping into his tone.

"Boss are you sick?!"

Cain raised a hand, silencing the rising anxiety. "Of course not," he interjected firmly. "CROSS will never disband. And I'm not sick! I'm 100% sane! I'm just going on a job for a few months, and then I'll return.

In the meantime, Joker and Bones will assume leadership in my absence."

The gang members exchanged doubtful looks, their loyalty tested by the thought of Cain leaving.

"I'm going to be busy for a while, but I'll return whenever I can," Cain continued. "This setup is only temporary, so don't worry. I'll also send money back to renovate our HQ and make sure you're all taken care of."

With that, Cain turned and headed upstairs to his room, leaving the gang to process the news.

"Cain . . . what's going on with him?" Joker muttered, his concern evident.

"Let him be," Bones replied, his tone unusually serious. "Cain's been wanting to renovate our HQ for a while, but our little business hasn't been doing well lately. Maybe that's why he took this job. Alright, everyone, meeting's over. Get back to what you were doing."

The gang members hesitated, their minds racing with doubts. "Huh? But what about making money? We can just steal or gamble."

"It could only bring in so much," Bones said, his voice heavy with the reality of their situation.

"I wonder if CROSS will remain the same without our boss," one member murmured.

"I only joined because of Cain," another admitted, the thought of his departure weighing heavily on his decision to stay in the gang.

"There's no point in staying here if the boss is going to leave in the end," someone else whispered, unease rippling through the group like a dark wave.

The negative energy began to spread, one doubt fueling another, until Joker felt the urge to knock some sense into them. "Hoi! You guys—!"

Before Joker could say more, a booming voice echoed through the hall.

"YOU PUNKS!"

The voice belonged to Tank, who was wielding a mop like a weapon. Sweat dripped down his face as he glared at the group, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by anger.

"Didn't the boss tell you he's only taking a short break?!" Tank shouted, his voice carrying the weight of his loyalty. "It's not like he's leaving for good! After everything he's done for us, all the hard work and money he's put into this gang, and now you're talking about ditching him when he's finally found something he wants to do?!"

The room fell silent, Tank's words striking a chord with everyone.

"Boss has finally found something he wants to do besides fighting! As loyal members of CROSS, instead of questioning him and abandoning him when he's chasing his dreams, shouldn't we support him?!"

"T-Tank . . ." The gang members stared at the usually quiet and cheerful fatty, now transformed into a pillar of loyalty.

"If you want to leave, then leave!" Tank declared, his voice trembling with emotion. "The boss doesn't need disloyal members like you! Even if I'm the only one left, I'll never abandon the boss! I'll remain his number one, loyal right-hand man!"

A heavy silence settled over the room before Joker snapped out of it and smacked Tank on the back of his head.

"You idiot. How dare you try to steal the position of right-hand man from me?" Joker grumbled, but there was no real anger in his voice.

"Ohohoho! Looks like Tank spoke some truth. Cain has dedicated his life to this gang. I think it's only right that he should have some life outside of CROSS. Let's support him."

With that, the group slowly began to relax, nodding in agreement. They decided to stand by Cain, supporting him as he pursued this new path, no matter how uncertain it seemed.

Upstairs, in his room, Cain was wrestling with his own dilemma. One week. That was all the time he had to prepare a special talent for the show.

"Just dancing won't cut it, and singing . . . well, that's crucial for an idol," he muttered to himself, frustration creeping into his voice.

Fifi fluttered around, her tiny wings buzzing. "You've finally realized that, huh?"

"My singing skill is only at level 10. Is that really enough?" Cain asked, glancing at her for reassurance.

"Why don't you test it for yourself?" Fifi suggested, her tone more serious than usual.

Cain sighed and moved over to his list of music tracks, searching for something he felt confident singing. He knew he needed to impress, to stand out, but the pressure was mounting.

He scrolled through the songs. He needed something that suited his voice, something that would resonate with the judges and audience alike.

Cain had spent months honing his singing skill, pushing it to level 10, but he still couldn't find his own voice. His own tone.

He could perfectly mimic any singer's style with his [Sharp Mind], nailing every note and inflection. But that wasn't enough. The judges wouldn't be impressed by a copycat, no matter how flawless he copied the song. Without a unique voice of his own, he'd just be another imitator, lost in the sea of aspiring idols.

Cain knew he needed to bring something more — something that was undeniably, unmistakably his.

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