Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Next day, Nelson found out that there was a bomb found at the place of his concert. This happened only on the next morning, and with the hangover he was nursing, the news reached him only by noon.

Tristan knew all that, because calling him and telling all that was the first thing Nelson did after being told about this news. His voice was anxious as he chatted into the call.

"The entire hall is closed by the police for an investigation now! They refuse to tell anything outright, but I sang there at the time! I have the right to know that shit, don't I? Derek agrees, at least. He promised to pull whatever strings he has. Just think about it! Both of us could've just… boom!"

"But at least it ended well, Nel. Nothing happened, for… whatever reason. Maybe the terrorist changed his mind at the last moment—who knows? Or maybe he got into an accident… Whatever it was, he deserved that, and more."

Tristan huffed. Although he was omitting his knowledge, he was not hiding his true feelings on the matter. If he didn't need the prisoner in good shape for the sake of possibly extracting more information from him in the future, he'd have done something violent to him already.

As it stood, Tristan consoled himself with the image of the pathetic man sitting in a bare bones concrete room with his leg chained to a pipe.

"Ouch." Nelson said. "Harsh, but true. So many people got hurt… And your tour is canceled now, isn't it?"

Tristan actually didn't get word from Derek yet. The entire GTG agency was standing on its head, together with all the showbiz industry of California, and half that of America. But it was basically guaranteed if Tristan let things be as they were.

"I don't know yet," Tristan said instead.

On the other end of the call, Nelson widened his eyes in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

"What? You mean, you would still go on a tour if the state government doesn't forbid them all? Even after all that happened, Tris? You almost got blown up! And me. But I'm not that gutsy."

"Yes. Isn't that the story of rock? Live fast, die young! If someone blew me up, at least my death will be more interesting than a drug overdose or a drunk car crash." Tristan chuckled, then added much more seriously. "I don't want to let these guys win, Nel."

Another honest truth and a lot of omission.

There was a plan gathering in Tristan's head. It was very tentative at the moment, with a lot of it hinging on Tristan's imagination.

There was only silence coming from Nelson for a few seconds.

"Yeah, Tris. This is war, and I want to fight, too. These people wanted pop-stars to be forgotten, but we are giving people entertainment and joy to dredge from one day of shit-work to another. I'm going to do something cool and remind everyone about it! I'm gonna mock these assholes in a fucking song and post it online! And there will be a ukulele!"

"I will play the ukulele," Tristan replied immediately, grinning from ear to ear. "The lyrics will be so insulting that everyone who agrees with the terrorists will self-combust and die from shame."

"Hell yeah! The power duo is back again!" Nel laughed. "You think we can make this video by evening?"

Tristan looked around his pop-star mansion. Explore more stories at empire

He didn't bother with buying a lot of sound equipment since moving in, since he recorded most of his songs in a studio in another place, anyway. But there still was enough to record a simple song and make a video.

For something simple, something created quickly and, just to make a statement, it was enough.

"Yeah, sure. Come over to my place whenever you are ready to start—and I will order pizza."

"I will be there in half an hour," Nel promised. "Can you do our makeup? You are better than me at that, and I want something shiny on my face."

"Definitely, just bring your own glitter. I also think that bird mask from my concert was around the place somewhere."

"Great! I will try to find something with feathers, too—but I gotta start now to be fast. Bye!"

The call ended, but Tristan was still holding his phone with a steel grip. His grin was full of emotions—a mix of creative excitement and predatory excitement.

The vague plan he had coalesced into a beautiful image.

Clearly, the Ass-Angel (that was the nickname Tristan came up with for the mastermind behind the terrorist attacks) couldn't be chased after.

How can you chase someone who only interacts with his pawns in their dreams?n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

No, Tristan had to make the Ass-Angel come to him. The more moves he did, the angrier he got, the more inevitable it would be for the Ass-Angel to slip and reveal something of himself.

If the Ass-Angel had problems with the showbiz industry, Tristan would become his biggest problem there. A bait—but with teeth and claws.

'And while all this is happening, my people from the King Lion Gang can gather information from other terrorists. This happened in our city—my underbosses are as agitated as everybody else. Plus, we have some direct interest in this.'

It was almost funny.

This morning, Tristan got a message from Leon Clavon that Garstean, the GTG agency's CEO, actually had enough guts to carefully ask Leon about protecting his agency from the terrorist attacks. Hinted that it was Leon's obligation, since Garstean still paid interest money on the loan Leon gave him a year ago.

But as Tristan told Leon, and as Leon told Garstean, the Golden Talent Agency was already being protected. And Nelson's continued wellbeing was proof of it.

As he thought those things in the background of his mind, Tristan was already moving to find himself a good performance costume and set up his sound studio.

The first blow of this war was made with fire of bombs, but the second one will be done with FIRE of sick burns.