Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

"No! I had no idea. I was just following you!"

Tristan hummed, checking Lewis's expression for any hint of the lie.

All he saw was a genuine desire to say anything and sell anyone to be left alive. And lots of pain, too—Lewis was cradling his broken arm and biting his lip raw.

"How did you contact your employer? You had to tell him somehow that you've done the deed, right?"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Through an anonymous messenger app. He asked for pictures of your corpse, and then he'd pay me in crypto."

"Good. Very good." Tristan smiled. "Maybe in an hour you will be free to go home. Just do one simple thing for me."

"W-what is it? I can do it… if it's not too dangerous…"

"It's very simple. Trey, keep watch over this chicken—better than you did last time. And… Wrap his broken arm, I suppose. What I want him to do is easier done with arms."

"Yes, boss. Heard that, asshat? He said nothing about your legs, so you better not even breathe at me wrong!"

Lewis whimpered pathetically as Tristan left the bathroom.

To his annoyance, he left his laptop at the hotel, so he had to do what he planned via his smartphone. Thankfully, he had a backup of the Beholder virus saved in a cloud storage.

Using his smartphone, Tristan googled a random image of a dead body that had a similar haircut to him but didn't show the face closely. The image was from some movie, and anyone could tell after looking at it not in a preview that it wasn't Tristan, but that was fine.

Tristan infected the image with the Beholder and returned to Lewis. Infecting the image took Tristan almost half an hour (typing and coding from a phone was much less convenient), so Trey had time to put a simple bandage and splint over the terrified assassin's hand.

"Lewis, there wasn't a device you could have contacted your employer from. You have something else in another place, right?"

"Y-yeah, I left my main smartphone at the motel."

Tristan raised his brows.

"You aren't afraid it might get stolen."

Lewis shrugged, wincing from the pain.

"Oh, I actually hid it in the room. Even if someone robbed it, they won't find it unless they search really hard. I always do this."

"Huh. Anyway, you are bringing me to your place. Trey, clean up here and think about your mistakes."

Although Tristan didn't say anything more threatening, didn't even suggest a harsh punishment, the tone of voice he used sent chills down the spines of Trey and Lewis.

"I'm sorry, boss. I will be more careful in the future!"

Tristan hummed, knowing that for the next week at least, Trey will be sent to do the simplest, least paid, and routine tasks—to really learn his lesson.

***

Owen was still waiting for them below with the stolen car. When Tristan appeared next to the assassin, he looked surprised.

Tristan was holding Lewis by the elbow of his healthy arm—supporting him and making sure he didn't run away.

"Give the address, Lewis. And wipe your face while we are driving. Owen, bring us where this guy says."

"Got it, boss."

The motel wasn't too far. It was a small, cheap place, and this late in the day—past midnight, actually—there wasn't even anyone at the registration deck.

Tristan walked Lewis through the blind zone of the lone camera in the building lobby and into his room. There, Lewis pulled his phone out where it hid behind the toilet cistern.

In a short while, he sent the message to his employer, declaring that Hayes was dead and attaching a photograph of his body as proof.

A photograph infected with a virus. And in order to look at it, Lewis's employer will have to open the file and let the Beholder into his computer or phone.

Tristan grinned.

If this worked out, he would have a backdoor directly into the deepest secrets of Cuatro Angulos!

Lewis looked up at him with hope.

"So… Can I go now, sir?"

Tristan raised his eyebrows.

"And what will you do after that?"

"I will never trouble you again! If someone puts a hit on you, I will even tell you that you are in danger! I don't want to be your enemy, sir, I don't want to die!"

After a careful consideration, Tristan believed this plea was genuine.

This was a good thing about enemy contractors. They had no loyalty for their employer, but had a healthy amount of self-preservation. The first guy Tristan had to deal with also never bothered him since then.

"Well, I promised. Go. Or stay, since this is your motel room," Tristan waved his hand magnanimously. "This is your second chance. There will be no third one."

***

Next day, an office in the Los Angeles Police Department.

"Captain, our division was sent this anonymous letter… I feel like we should do something about it. It doesn't feel like a prank—whoever sent it knows too many details. I already ran it through the forensics just in case, but it's clear of any hints."

The lieutenant passed a simple white envelope to his superior, who immediately opened it and pulled a printout from the inside.

He swiftly read it, and the farther the police captain reached, the more serious his expression became.

"Thank you for bringing this to me. If even a half of what this letter says is true, we can have a serious gang problem in our city, unless we do something."

"Yes, sir, I thought that as well. But… doesn't it feel suspicious that someone sent so much information about this situation anonymously?"

"Of course it does, Lieutenant! Because it is. Either we have an unbelievably good Samaritan in one of these gangs, or some gangster wants to get rid of a rival with our hands. But they were fools if they thought LAPD is just a dog that will chase blindly after every piece of bait! These arrogant gangsters—we will catch them all!"

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