Gangster to Idol

Cain and Fifi ended up wandering around the district, striking out at every salon they tried. No place seemed willing to cut his hair.

Cain and Fifi found themselves roaming the upscale streets of Zone A, District 1, a maze of sleek buildings and neon signs that screamed luxury. The bustling business district was teeming with well-dressed individuals and high-end stores, making Cain's rugged appearance stand out even more.

"I'm sorry, sir," the manager said, her tone polite but firm. "We only serve clients by appointment. And our schedule is fully booked for the next three months."

Cain's eyes narrowed. He knew a brush-off when he saw one. "Fully booked, huh?" he muttered as he left, feeling the stares of the other clients drilling into his back.

Their next stop was "Luxe Locks," an equally high-end salon with an interior that gleamed with white marble and gold accents. The receptionist looked up, her smile wavering as she saw Cain.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, her eyes flicking over his rugged attire and rough demeanor.

"No, but I need a haircut," Cain replied, his patience thinning.

"I'm afraid we only take appointments," she said quickly, glancing nervously at the stylist who had paused mid-snip to eye Cain warily. "And we're very busy today."

Cain scoffed as he turned to leave, noticing the half-empty salon behind him. "Busy, right."

Next was "Divine Cuts," a salon famous for catering to celebrities and influencers. The moment Cain walked in, he felt the atmosphere change. The stylists exchanged glances, and the clients shifted uncomfortably in their seats. A tall, slim man with an air of superiority approached him.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, his tone dripping with disdain.

"I need a haircut," Cain said bluntly.

The man sniffed, looking Cain up and down. "I'm sorry, but we only serve clients of a certain . . . caliber. You don't exactly look like our usual clientele."

Cain clenched his fists, resisting the urge to respond with a punch. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked out, Fifi floating beside him with a sullen expression.

At "Prestige Styles," the reaction was even more blatant. As soon as Cain entered, a young stylist with vibrant blue hair pointedly sniffed the air.

"Do you smell that?" the stylist asked loudly. "It smells like . . . poverty."

The receptionist giggled, covering her mouth as she looked at Cain. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're a high-end salon. We have a reputation to uphold, and we can't just let anyone in."

Cain's jaw tightened. "Is that so?" he said coldly before storming out, his anger barely contained.

As they continued their search, salon after salon turned them away with flimsy excuses and thinly veiled insults.

"You need an appointment." "We're fully booked." "Our clients prefer a certain . . . atmosphere."

Each rejection stung, but Cain kept moving, determined to find a place that would give him the haircut he needed.

Finally, they ended up standing on a busy corner, the neon lights reflecting off the rain-slicked pavement. Cain's frustration was palpable, his fists clenched at his sides.

Fifi hovered nearby, her glow dim with disappointment.

"Is there any salon in this damn district that will cut my hair?" Cain growled, glaring at the towering buildings around them.

Fifi sighed, shaking her head. "It seems the industry here is more focused on appearances and status. We'll find a place." she said crossing out all the names in her list.

"Let them laugh now," she muttered, her face dark. "One day, they'll be begging to cut your hair."

Cain's anger subsided when he noticed that Fifi was more upset and angry than he was. In the end, he gave up.

"Let's go to District 2. There are decent salons there that will probably cut my hair."

Fifi didn't reply immediately, her eyes glued to her Goddess Screen, searching for options. "We can go to Urban Chic Salon. A mid-range salon that should accept you. It's not up to my standards, but . . ."

She glanced at Cain and sighed. "I guess it will have to do, considering you're not up to standard either."

"Did you just insult me?"

"Alright, let's go! The sun is still up, and we can make it before five," Fifi said, leading the way.

The two went to District 2 and headed straight to Urban Chic Salon. Cain didn't like the name, but he had no choice. If this salon rejected him again, he swore . . .

"Oh, a haircut?" the manager asked with a smile on her face. If she was disgusted with Cain's appearance or disappointed with his shabby clothes, she didn't let it show. "Come this way."

Finally! Cain thought as he sat in the chair the manager had chosen for him.

Within seconds, a young man appeared with a nervous smile on his face. He was just a trainee and wasn't a professional stylist like the others, but since their two stylists were busy and the other barbers were absent, he took on the mantle of cutting Cain's hair.

"Just don't let him know you're a trainee, and everything will be fine," the manager said before tapping his shoulder and leaving him to handle the problem.

"W-what style do you want, sir?" the trainee asked, stuttering as he met Cain's piercing gaze. He almost wet himself when Cain grabbed him by the collar and stared at him seriously.

"Listen very closely. I want you to cut my hair short and make sure the length remains the same for the wig. I don't care what style you cut it, but the most important thing is my wig."

"Y-you want to make a wig out of your cut hair?" the trainee clarified.

"That's right. I don't have to tell you what will happen if you don't follow my instructions, right?"

The trainee gulped hard and nodded vigorously.

Cain released him and began fiddling with his phone and left the guy to do his job.

"Are you sure? This guy doesn't seem like he's an expert," Fifi said, scrutinizing the trainee. She could search him up but it would cost her mana. She already used up considerable amount of mana searching for salons in her Goddess Screen. She felt like she didn't want to use her magic on something like this.

"As long as my hair is well preserved into a wig. Besides, I don't even know what style would suit me. He's the barber, so I'll let him handle it," Cain replied without care.

Behind him, the trainee looked at Cain and shivered. He's even talking to himself! This guy is very dangerous! he screamed internally.

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|| A/N ||

Hey everyone,

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Thanks a million! 🤍

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