Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Chapter 63: Signing a contract and casually hating women



There was a TV screen mounted on the wall in the lobby, so people waiting there won't get bored. It was set on a local music channel, and the sound was muted, but still audible.

Right now, the TV was showing highlights from the Californian Young Star contest.

A few visitors that were sitting in the lobby were watching it from the corner of their eyes.

When Tristan stepped into the lobby, a few heads turned toward him in reflex. People would've dismissed him soon after that, if on the TV screen, a host didn't announce his name.

Next, there was a close-up shot of Tristan's confident face.

One by one, the faces of the people in the lobby lit with surprise and recognition!

Now even people who didn't care for the TV show were curiously looking at the TV screen to see Tristan's performance, while stealing glances at the man in the flesh.

Garstean was watching, too, completely arrested by the sight. It was the first time he actually saw this performance, and he was shocked by Tristan's mastery.

In fact, he was shocked that Tristan used the guitar instead of a piano. Such mastery of two very different instruments meant a deep understanding of music that only very experienced musicians had!

Meanwhile, Tristan, acting like nothing special was going on, sat on a couch for visitors and watched the TV program as well.

'I look pretty good on camera, but it could be better. I should increase my appearance to match charisma, at least. Or even higher. Well, if I do it right here and now, it will look very strange to people around. At least otherwise I can say it's makeup or even plastic surgery, if anybody asks.'

With every passing second, people in the lobby were more and more enchanted by Tristan's performance, captivating even on a TV screen. Half a minute into the performance, the receptionist even brought a remote and turned the volume up.

The performance just reached the second refrain verse, when a new visitor entered the building from the outside.

Seeing half a dozen people all sitting and watching the TV like this was a family evening, he stopped in shock.

Then he gasped.

"Tristan! Man, what a coincidence!"

"Nel?"

Tristan turned to his approaching friend, who sat next to him, grinning.

"Yeah. Remember, during the last time we went out for burgers, you told me you will go for a contract with GTG? Well, it only made sense for me to do the same! You know the game better than me, anyway."

Tristan chuckled.

"I guess I should've expected this. But then what's the coincidence here?"

"Chancing upon you in a lobby, of course, riiight when your performance is finally on TV! Hey, did they show me already?"

"I don't know. You'd think they would show the winners last."

Nel sighed.

"Oh, too bad I don't have the time to watch the entire thing. My interview starts in," he checked the time on his phone, "a five minutes, and I have to find the right office first. Hey, if you wait for me here, we can hang around afterward!"

"No way we won't. I still didn't show you my new car. Although it's one of the least impressive ones I've seen, ha-ha!"

Nel grinned and slapped Tristan's shoulder.

"It's still amazing! Anyway, gotta go, bye!"

He hurried to the receptionist, who was forced to give him directions, and then up the stairs.

Another minute after Nel's leave, applause sounded for Tristan's performance on TV, and the receptionist turned the sound back down.

[Ding!]

[You had impressed an audience of 50 thousand people on TV with your performance. Reward: your CP increased by 2500!]

Tristan grinned, dismissing the notification. Too bad this was just state TV, and not American TV. Then his audience would've been counted in millions…

"Mr. Gemello, was this person your friend?"

Tristan blinked and turned to Garstean.

That man was still here, and still looking like he was considering what epitaph will look best on his gravestone.

"Yes. And?"

"No… Nothing. Nothing at all. Ah… I have to go, too."

Inwardly, Garstean just mentally doubled his problems with Tristan. Now he will have to make sure that Tristan's friend had nothing to complain about, or who knew what consequences might follow?

With these thoughts, Garstean hurried from the lobby, energized by his fear.

He had to make sure Tristan's friend's contract was good, and then come up with a way to get rid of them both without crossing them! Such an impossible task.

***

Next day.

As soon as Tristan put a signature on his contract, there was a sound.

[Ding!]

[Your Pop-star rank has changed from Tiny Young Star to Contracted Young Star! Reward: your CP increased by 1000!]

Tristan set the pen aside and put the signed contract copy in his bag. The contract was a good kind, which gave Tristan a lot of freedom in the future and a fair share of money.

"In the next three days, our agency will assign a manager to you, Mr. Gemello," the agent sitting in front of him said. "Our agency cares very much about the comfort of our talents, so if you have preferences about a manager, we will try to follow them."

Tristan nodded.

"It should be fine, as long as the manager isn't a woman."

"Of course. Have a good day, Mr. Gemello."

Tristan wasn't sure this would be possible.

The last two days the things were silent on the war front between King Lion Gang and Cuatro Angulos, but this only made Tristan worry more.

"Thank you, you too."

***

Back at home, Tristan checked the results of his virus-spreading.

Several people have downloaded the video he shared, but only two computers were successfully infected by the Beholder trojan.

The rest of the users, Tristan realized, downloaded the file from phones.

That was a mistake that Tristan could fix in a few hours.

But overall, the trojan's release was a success.

His text stash was full of things typed by the infected users! Among them, Tristan noticed a few strings of text that could've been passwords, too.

And now that he had this tool at his disposal, Tristan's mind came up with a plan to use it to advance his criminal career.

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