Chapter 18: The second face of the Good Lion Bar
After returning home, Tristan pulled out the business card Pierce gave him. It was just a business card of the bar, but on the other side Pierce wrote:
[Come to the bar from 2 to 4 AM, workdays. Ask Andrew Pierce.]
'So specific. Just like that paper-pusher… But how could I miss something like a crime organization under my nose? Status!'
Since his 160 points in observation skill weren't enough to recognize the place he was working in as a criminal den, or notice the gun in that man's hand, Tristan put more.
He put 500 CP into that skill.
[Ding!]
[Observation skill increased from 160 to 660.]
The world sharpened around Tristan again. The smallest details of his surroundings got even more meaning than before—although in his own home, there wasn't much to observe.
But the background of quiet sounds from outside became more than just white noise. From the rumbling of cars on the street below, Tristan could distinguish their exact amount, and from the sounds from the inside the house, he could almost imagine the movement of people in the nearby apartments.
His sight and hearing didn't improve, but his ability to notice and distinguish these details skyrocketed again.
At this point, it was above even the level of a professional sleuth!
Then, after a moment of hesitation, he put his remaining 371 Pop-star Points into the acting skill.
Tristan felt like he might need it with what he had found recently.
[Ding!]
[Acting skill increased from 21 to 392.]
Next evening, Tristan Gemello went to play piano in the Good Lion Bar. As usual.
However, this time, he was more open to noticing anything than ever.
When he walked past the bar patrons toward the piano, Tristan noticed how the weight of their hidden weapons shifted their clothes almost imperceptibly.
When Tristan played music for these people, he examined their faces more closely than before. Many men had scars that could've been from fights. Others had small scars on their knuckles, especially.
However, there was no outright illegal business going on at that time of the day. The opposite–people ate, drank, and created no trouble at all.
Tristan pressed a key on the piano sharper than intended, when he realized how strange that was.
No trouble whatsoever in a bar?
Not on that evening, and not in the past week. Everybody was extremely mindful of their drinks, and didn't start a single fight.
And today Tristan noticed a slight fear in people's eyes whenever a possibility of becoming too drunk and creating trouble was mentioned.
'They must be afraid of the person in charge here. Afraid of Pierce? He's creepy, but is he that scary?'
Tristan didn't see the man this evening at all, but that wasn't unusual. If he was in place at all, he rarely went out of his office.
After his shift ended, Tristan went home as usual, but two blocks away from the bar, entered an alleyway and switched identities.
He even brought spare clothes with him in a backpack today, just so he could dress differently.
Now, as Tristan Hayes, he went back to the bar. Since it was pretty late, there weren't many people on the street, and there was no way to avoid suspicious stares.
Tristan glared back, daring any troublemaker to jump him.
Like that, he walked down the streets that surrounded the Good Lion Bar, observing.
He noticed subtle graffiti marks on some storefronts and other buildings, which repeated. They were definitely gang marks.
The subtle influence of a powerful gang was felt in the surroundings, too. Soon, Tristan noticed he was being tailed. His pursuer did a good job of hiding whenever Tristan glanced backward, but Tristan noticed his shadow and his footsteps.
This confirmed Tristan's guess.
A small gang couldn't control a territory this large—Tristan only saw a part of it.
The Good Lion Bar's existence, and the wealth of its patrons, meant that its owner had money. The lack of outward criminal activity there just meant it was well-hidden.
And there was a good level of organization involved. Instead of jumping an intruder blindly, the local gang tailed a suspicious intruder, gathering information on him.
It was just what Tristan needed.
After this, Tristan went home, making several sharp and sudden turns to shake off his tail on the way there.
***
Next day.
The official working hours of the bar started at 5 AM. The door had a "CLOSED" plate hanging on top of it.
Tristan pushed it, and the door opened.
There were six people sitting at tables inside, and at Tristan's entrance, they all turned to Tristan like alarmed wolves. All of them had hands reaching for hidden weapons.
While at night a regular bar, during the day this place was a real crime den!
This only made Tristan stand straight and walk inside with more assurance. He will work alongside these people in the future, and he couldn't show weakness.
But thanks to his great acting skill, holding his face fixed in an expression of utter calm was easy.
"I was invited by Mr. Pierce. Is he here?"
Most gangsters relaxed slightly. Then, a waiter hurriedly walked up from the kitchen. It wasn't anyone Tristan remembered from his evening shifts.
"I will tell him about you," the waiter promised.
A minute later, Tristan was ushered into an already familiar office.
Pierce was sitting inside. At the sight of Tristan, he tilted his head slightly.
"Greetings, Mr…"
"Hayes. Tristan Hayes."
Tristan was calm about using his real name.
Hayes was a pretty common surname, and Tristan was a pretty common name. It was hard to make a connection to Tristan's past or other identity now that his face wasn't made from minced meat.
And if Pierce made a connection, Tristan didn't care, anyway. As long as it wasn't with his other identity.
"I'm glad you came here so quickly, Mr. Hayes. This shows that you are either determined, or desperate—and both types of people are very driven. Those are good qualities in a worker, especially in our line of work."
"And what is this work, Mr. Pierce?"
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