Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Ilom stood straighter. At his full height, he towered over both Nel and Tristan, even though neither of them could be called short.

He'd be intimidating if Tristan couldn't tell easily that Ilom was more afraid of them than could ever be afraid of him.

'He's almost like a spider… Isn't that what someone online joked about a spider?' Tristan thought he saw a meme like that once.

"Keep keeping a press away from me until I leave. I know my PR manager won't, since he put me to this in the first place. He didn't even give me security to keep those damn journalists away—never again!"

He flailed his arms in anger, then clenched his fists at the sides. .net

"In return, I will introduce you to some people at the after-party. The kind of people to offer good projects to young, handsome artists. They work with all kinds of Hollywood personalities, as long as they look good on camera. I think they are involved with the Californian Young Star organizations, too."

Well, this was something easy to agree to. Tristan grinned.

"Sure, Mr. Ilom. We are happy to do a good deed any day, aren't we?" He smirked at Nel.

"I sure am," Nel said without irony.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

By that point, more people began flowing into the movie theater, most of them walking past the cloakroom. When Tristan checked the clock, he saw that only about ten minutes left until Ilom's introduction speech and the film screening.

"You should move backstage somewhere, then, Mr. Ilom, before you get spotted here. Nel can talk with people at the entrance, and I will cover your back on the way."

Ilom's eyes widened in surprise, then he nodded. His eyes bore into Tristan in a way that made him look strangely and unpleasantly like an open book.

"You sound like this isn't the first time you deal with… hm… operations like these, Gemello. Very savvy, that's good. Let's go."

Thankfully, inside the theater with its dimmed lights, the press wasn't as brazen as in the open air. And at least some journalists felt like they had their bite of Ilom, so when Nel struck a casual conversation with a journalist crew passing by, they stopped and talked back.

Ilom kept crawling along the theater's corners, his dark suit blending with the shadows. Tristan kept a watch on him from a distance, and whenever he saw someone noticing Ilom and trying to approach him, Tristan casually stepped in that person's way, forcing them to pause at least long enough to lose Ilom in the growing crowd of people.

Soon, Ilom hid completely somewhere at the back of the theater, and all the guests took their assigned seats in the theater. Tristan and Nel, as guests of honor—now Tristan knew why—sat in front.

Right in front of them was a lectern, behind which hung the large white screen. When the hesitant silence fell on the theater, Ilom finally stepped out to the public again.

Flashes of cameras went off, making him wince, but Ilom reached the lectern and began reading from a paper placed on it.

"Thank you… for being here. Hm… There are more thanks… How many thanks are necessary, anyway? Ugh!" Ilom crumpled the note and glared at the flash that went off. "And stop taking photos of me! Let me just be brief. I made this movie because there was a story in my head that I needed to share with as many people as possible.

So it needs to be a success. I hope you will promote it, whether you like the movie or not."

With that last word, Ilom went off the stage, the cameras were finally turned off, and the movie began.

An hour and a half later, Tristan became convinced that Ilom really was brilliant at what he was doing. The movie's production was cheap, and its actors were all small names in the industry, but every piece fit together perfectly to make a large picture.

By the time the movie finished, Nelson had been biting his lip so much, he almost broke the skin.

Although the protagonist reached the dream life he strove for, the way he did it made both him and the viewers feel like it was absolutely undeserved. Like he was still an impostor in his place, even after working to keep it.

The protagonist wouldn't refuse that life, both for his own sake and the sake of his family, but the final shot of the movie gave a visceral feeling of anxiety and fear that all those riches will just disappear in an instant—and there will be left even less than the protagonist had originally.

It didn't feel like a victory, more like a loss.

Tristan experienced a deep resentment of this message, but he couldn't help but applaud with everybody. The movie was amazing, and as all the best pieces of media did, it sure made Tristan feel things.

But if he was in the protagonist's situation, he'd just take all the good luck he got and owned it. After all, if bad luck was his, and no one said, "Oh no, he didn't deserve it!" then why should anyone ever say that he didn't deserve his good luck?

"This… This hits deep, doesn't it, Tris?" Nel asked as people around them began to get up from their seats.

Tristan scowled.

"I don't think this message was even for us. From what Ilom said, it probably wasn't even a message, just an expression of his feelings."

"It can be both," Nel countered, then sighed. "To be honest, I don't like movies that make me feel bad, either. But I bet critics will like it."

"All I know is that Ilom might be a useful man to know in the future, and that he has promised to show us some people at the after-party. Since there won't be a Q&A session, let's get moving there."

With these words, Tristan threw all moral questions out of his head and began following the people moving toward the after-party that was listed in the event's schedule.

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