Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Damien glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and winced.

"Oh, shit. But—" he paused, looking at Asher. "Well, I know my people can deal with things in my absence."

"Uh-uh." Tristan nodded. "Doesn't excuse your disappearance. You agreed to take responsibility when you agreed to work under me."

Damien frowned. His eyes flicked to Asher, and Tristan could read the thoughts going through his head on Damien's face.

The man knew that he was in trouble and was going to be punished. In gangs, punishments were often cruel and violent, because gangsters rarely feared anything less than that—not with their lives. And harming family members to punish the offender was a very common practice.

Damien stepped between Asher and Tristan.

"Well, I can leave now. Visiting hours are almost done, anyway, aren't they? And you can forget about what you've seen, Mr. Hayes."

'That will be the best—I can still hold it over his head if that's necessary,' Tristan thought. 'But… There's a more important question that stays unasked.'

"I will, but I want to speak with Mr. Asher first. Don't worry, I'm not about to threaten him."

Tristan walked up to the edge of Asher's bed. The man stared at him with the eyes of a cornered rat.

"We share something in common, Damien, I must admit. I don't know if you heard about my cousin… But he told me some things about Mr. Asher. We actually share a first name instead of the last one—he's Tristan Gemello."

Damien raised his eyebrows.

"Huh, those rumors were true, after all? Yeah, I suppose that makes us a bit similar."
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His shoulders relaxed a little—Tristan's admission of a vulnerable point made Damien feel less vulnerable himself. At the same time, Asher showed some curiosity on his face.

Just like Tristan intended.

"Gemello? Yeah, you are very similar. Your… smoothness," Asher said in a raspy voice. "It explains a lot. But I won't tattle—I know how that stuff works."

"And I know you know. My question to you was—why are you here? I thought only famous people got this sick in the 'celebrity pandemic'. Actors, singers… Not movie producers, even successful ones."

"He only got a little sick. With a 'common cold'. But while they ran scans for THAT, they found that one of his kidneys was about to give up on him just because!" Damien almost shouted. "And all the effort he put into 'not getting into the business' and 'not getting shot' went where? No-whe-re! Next thing, I will find you died from some cancer or shit when I get a death notice. You could've called SOMETIMES, at least."

"Shut up, Damien. Just shut up already. If you cared enough, you could've—" Asher grit his teeth. "You weren't even asked."

That was true. And as interesting as that drama was, Tristan had to give Damien the Look to shut him.

"My murderous brother summed it up well, though," Asher concluded. "I just have to add that I was targeted by the negative energy of as many people as others who got sick. It's all over the place now. I told Damien to turn off his phone because it was emitting some really dark particles into this room. I've tried to find more about the source, to protect myself from it before I fell ill, but I was too late."

"That shit isn't real, unlike your diagnosed paranoia, Ash," Damien grumbled. "And my boss is here now because of it."

"No, no," Tristan shook his head. "What did you find, Asher?"

Asher's eyes lit up. He even rose on his elbows a little, only to fall back down.

"There's—" he let out a dry cough.

Damien wordlessly took a plastic cup of water from the nearby nightstand and shoved it into Asher's face.

With a marching glare back, Asher took and drank it, then crunched the cup in his fist and let it fall on the bed.

He resumed speaking in a clearer voice.

"There's a massive cyclone of negative energies. The 'Gospel' who had started it all is immensely powerful—and smart. The technique he used seems almost self-perpetuating. I analyzed the currents of the negative and positive energies online, but I didn't have the time to work on de-tangling Gospel's curse properly before I got sick. Now I feel that just touching any source of those dark particles might worsen my state."

"Boss…" Damien whispered to Tristan. "Why are you still listening to this? My brother—he's supposed to be on medication for that shit. I think they might've turned it off because it clashed with his current meds…"

Tristan just gestured to Damien to be silent.

His tired mind was working with new inspiration. From what he saw, Asher's mind really was on some other plane of reality. But his conclusions were strangely insightful.

He could make sense of them.

For one thing, Tristan was sure that Asher was analyzing the same data, which Tristan put Kevin's team to work on. And seemed to achieve some success.

'Besides, if Gospel Ass-Angel uses a system to do this, whoever chases him has to assume that something supernatural is involved. And rational people won't do this.'

"Mr. Ilom," he said. "If you know all this, you either know or can guess that my cousin was affected, too."

Asher nodded, frowning.

"I can imagine. He's probably in the very center of the cyclone's moving parts, where it's the most dangerous."

"Will you help me help him—and yourself?" Tristan said.

Next to him, Damien just raised his eyebrows in shock—but didn't dare to protest anymore.

"Help? I can't do much to help from here, can I?" Asher said with a sneer.

"I will just put you in contact with my team of people who already analyze online data for correlations. They don't have a psychic viewpoint on this, but they can provide you with raw data right in this room."

Asher clutched his blanket. He was thinking hard, but Tristan waited patiently for his response.