Gangster to Idol

Chapter 16: A Morning Routine – Reckoning with Time



Cain started his day as usual, lacing up his running shoes and stepping out into the chilly morning air. The streets were just beginning to stir, with only a few early risers and vendors setting up their stalls.

Cain took a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill his lungs, and then took off at a steady pace, his footfalls echoing through the empty streets.

As he ran, he practiced his fighting techniques, shadowboxing with an intensity that would make any observer flinch. Cain wasn't just running for the points; he was determined to increase his Fighting Skill and grow stronger. He needed to protect his gang from rival groups and assert their dominance in Zone A.

He couldn't afford to be weak — his reputation and their home was at stake.

From nearby, Fifi hovered with an almost bored expression, watching Cain go through his task. Her tiny form floated in the air, flying lazily as she observed him with a critical eye. "If only he were that enthusiastic about practicing his other skills too," she muttered to herself.

After a few moments, she flew down to Cain, effortlessly keeping pace with him as he ran. "Why don't you practice your vocals and pitch while you're at it?" she suggested, her tone a mix of sarcasm and genuine advice. "Improving your singing skill wouldn't hurt."

Cain shot her a look of annoyance but didn't break his stride. "I don't want to look like a clown, running, fighting, and singing 'ABC' at the same time," he grumbled, landing a particularly forceful punch at an imaginary opponent.

Fifi sighed, exasperated. "Then at least listen to music while you're running. You might actually cure that tone-deafness of yours."

Cain paused mid-stride, coming to a sudden stop as the idea dawned on him. He stared at Fifi as if she had just revealed the secrets of the universe. "That's . . . actually a good idea," he admitted, somewhat begrudgingly. But then his face fell.

"Except I don't have any earphones," he added, realizing the flaw in his plan.

Shrugging off the inconvenience, Cain pulled out his phone and casually played some music aloud. The tunes filled the quiet morning air, mixing with the sound of his footsteps as he resumed his run.

"Will this even work, though?" Cain asked Fifi, who was now flying beside him with her signature poker face.

"It's a start," Fifi replied. "Ear training exercises can improve your pitch over time. You could also use apps or online tools designed for ear training. They help you practice matching pitches, and as you get better, you can tackle more complex exercises."

Cain's brow furrowed as he listened. "Seems like a chore."

"With your Sharp Mind ability, it should be a breeze for you," Fifi pointed out, her voice tinged with encouragement. "You could also practice identifying and distinguishing between different intervals — the distance between two notes. This helps with recognizing and remembering pitch relationships."

Cain snorted. "Isn't there some advanced technology to just tweak my voice or something?"

Fifi rolled her eyes. "Sure, Auto-Tune and Pitch Correction software can correct pitch in real-time and help tone-deaf individuals sound in tune. But if you rely on that too much, you'll never actually improve the quality of your voice. Learning the basics is still the way to go.

"What if you're suddenly in a tight spot where you're asked to sing live? Wouldn't it be a disaster if they knew you couldn't sing? A single misstep could cost you your entire career. In showbiz, one mistake could be the end of you! It's hard to make a come back after that."

"Hmm . . ." Cain thought for a moment.

"Don't even think about jeopardizing your image just to shorten your idol career. If you don't become a top idol, it's death for you," Fifi said like he read Cain's mind.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. For now, I'll focus on increasing my skills and collecting Idol Points while improving my stats. That's the way to go."

"Don't forget that you need to create a social media account and start building your online presence," Fifi reminded him. "It might take years to build a fanbase, but no top idol was ever made overnight."

Cain resumed his run, picking up speed. "By the way . . . is there a time limit to this whole thing?"

Fifi nodded and answered without care, "There is. In most cases, you're too old to be an idol at the age of 30. By then, you'll have to reach the top. Even 30 is considered old nowadays, so you need to aim for the top by 27 or 28 at the latest."

Cain's eyes widened in shock. He was already 21! "Huh?! 30?! That's only nine years from now! You should've told me something this important from the start!"

Fifi raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his reaction. "Didn't I tell you? Anyway, I thought you already knew. Let's face it . . .

have you ever seen an idol group with members over 30 nowadays?"

"How should I know?! I'm not into those!" Cain growled, frustrated by the sudden pressure.

"That's why most idols start their careers in their teens. You need to speed up the process," Fifi advised. "Don't worry, with my help and the Idol Points you'll earn, we can accelerate things."

Cain's head was pounding. The realization that there was a time limit — and a strict one at that — hit him hard. He didn't have time to waste idling around.

Without another word, Cain took off at top speed, leaving Fifi in his dust. His heart pounded in his chest as he pushed his body to its limits, determined to make every second count.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" Fifi called out, struggling to keep up with his sudden burst of speed.

"I don't have time to be standing around idling!" Cain shouted back. "I need to double — no, quadruple — my efforts to increase my stats and skills!"

Fifi watched him go with an impassive face, though her thoughts were anything but calm. "If I knew he was going to be like this, I should've told him from the start," she muttered to herself. She then twirled in the air and nodded as if convincing herself. "But anyway, it's only the second day today, so we still have a lot more time . . .

I hope."

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