Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

If a pigeon was flying over two buildings at that moment, it would've seen that Tristan and his enemy, Ranger, moved out of their cover at exactly the same time.

Their eyes searched the space for a fraction of a second before snapping toward each other.

Ranger was faster again. He didn't expect his target to act with such speed and skill, but he had too much experience to let that faze him.

Unlike him, Tristan didn't expect to enter a fight, here, now, and in this manner. At all. Tristan's heart was beating a mile a minute—but outwardly he was still calm.

'Fake it until you make it! Make it out alive!'

They both shot and immediately went for cover again. Both shots were quiet, since Ranger's rifle also had a silencer.

Back in the cover, Tristan ejected the casing and glanced at his shoulder, biting his lip. A bullet grazed him slightly, leaving a bleeding scratch, but he barely felt pain yet.

But because of that scratch, Tristan himself missed the target entirely.

'That guy is definitely some kind of pro! Like a Navy Seal or a special spy agent or an assassin… My stats are not high enough to deal with him!'

Tristan still had Criminal Points to put into stats—he just had to open the status and tap a few buttons. A few seconds, that's all.

A car drove loudly by the street below, making Tristan jerk away in reflex. A bullet that was aimed at his foot missed by an inch, only leaving another scratch on him.

Because the pipes were elevated from the roof by a few inches, Tristan's legs were open to the enemy!

On the other roof Ranger frowned, but ejected the spent casing and prepared to shoot again.

Tristan barely had time to swear inwardly as he half-ran, half-crawled to another pipe, and froze there. He hoped to at least throw the enemy off for a moment.

He knew he didn't even have time to shoot back, not really.

Pipes were a shitty cover. He needed to get off the roof, and he needed a distraction.

Tristan remembered what he saw on the other roof when he looked back the last time. With his observation skill, things were pretty clear.

Water pipes, some large technical cube—was it the building's hot water boiler? Or something related to its AC units? It had a few pipes leading to it.

A plan formed in Tristan's head.

He crept away for several steps, just in case. It didn't feel right to stay in one place with a sniper just twenty meters away.

Ranger frowned. He was sure that he spotted Tristan's legs under pipes again, but he blinked and they were gone. He kept looking out—as soon as Tristan peeked out from the pipes, a bullet would surely go through his head.

Tristan felt a phantom itch in his forehead. He forced himself to act calm as he imagined the approximate position of the enemy.

Then he lowered the rifle to the ground and shot below the pipe, aiming from memory—two times as quickly as he could, knowing that the enemy wouldn't let him do it more than once.

On the other roof, Ranger was completely surprised by a shot from nowhere. He only spotted the barrel of Tristan's rifle poking from under the pipe a moment later, and because of shock, was too late to react and shoot back.

A moment after his second shot, Tristan peeked out—from above now—to see the result.

His bullets hit with more success than Tristan ever hoped.

He was hoping to distract the enemy with a shower from water pipes. And not only his bullets made a hole in a pipe, they also hit the enemy himself.

From the pipe was pouring a fountain of water, and some of it was now red with blood.

Below, people were growing steadily more and more aware of the fight. Suppressors muffled the sounds of gunshots, but they stayed loud enough to be heard from the street below.

And with Angulos' thugs all around, Tristan knew if he stayed here for too long, he will end up surrounded on all sides.

Clenching his teeth, Tristan dashed toward the fire exit. Only there he could exhale with relief—now an entire building separated him from the enemy. But he didn't have much time.

'Status!'

[======]

[Tristan Hayes (Tristan Gemello)]

[Current identity: Criminal. Second identity: Pop-star.]

[Pop-star rank: Opened The Door.]

[Criminal rank: Rook.]

[Pop-star Points: 0]

[Criminal Points: 3940]

[===Attributes===]

[Appearance: 54]

[Charisma: 34]

[Fearsomeness: 33]

[Strength: 120]

[Dexterity: 125]

[Toughness: 42]

[===Skills===]

[Singing: 432]

[Dancing: 8]

[Playing guitar: 669]

[Music theory: 274]

[Music production: 511]

[Acting: 392]

[Songwriting: 517]

[Voice control: 284]

[Stage presence: 140]

[Playing piano: 679]

[Video editing: 202]

[Sneaking: 628]

[Close-quarters combat: 457]

[Observation: 673]

[Driving: 16]

[Pickpocketing: 530]

[Firearms shooting: 601]

[===Talents===]

[Clark Kent Effect] [Partially Sleepless]

[======]

Tristan rapidly tapped the buttons, barely thinking about what he increased.

[Ding!]

[Strength attribute increased from 120 to 220.]

[Ding!]

[Dexterity attribute increased from 125 to 225.]

[Ding!]

[Toughness attribute increased from 42 to 142.]

[Ding!]

[As a result of attribute changes, your appearance attribute increased by 25, your charisma attribute increased by 5, and your fearsomeness attribute increased by 8.]

[Ding!]

[Observation skill increased from 673 to 873.]

[Ding!]

[Sneaking skill increased from 628 to 828.]

[Ding!]

[Close-quarters combat skill increased from 457 to 997.]

All the points Tristan gathered to buy talents later—gone, just like that.

But his body was filled with even more strength than before. He could feel his muscles bulging under his clothing, although they never became as huge and cumbersome as muscles of heavyweight lifters or bodybuilders.

After that, Tristan hurriedly reloaded his rifle. It took almost half a minute, since each round had to be manually put inside the rifle.

At any moment, Tristan's enemy could appear below and shoot at him. The fire stairs weren't a good cover.

Or someone could walk below and spot him.

Tristan gripped his loaded rifle. His heart was pumping, but in his head, he had a plan.

He went back to the roof.

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