Chapter 15: Beating people up for reputation
Tristan stared down at the woman, utterly unimpressed.
She was trying to offer him her "goods" right after being groped like that?
As if he would touch something that slimy man touched with a ten foot pole.
Actually, he wouldn't touch her well-used goods even in a hazmat suit.
"Just go. Don't thank me."
The strict tone in which Tristan said this urged the woman to nod and move.
"Uh… If you need anything, you can just ask around for Romeo—that's my pimp. He wouldn't have let that shithead do this if he was there!"
With these words, the woman walked out of the alleyway on shaky legs.
Left alone, Tristan quickly patted the balding man's pockets, taking all the cash out of his wallet—a pathetic $20.
This was so little that Tristan kicked the guy again to relieve his anger.
"I bet you were trying to rape that girl because you couldn't afford her. Tsk."
But at least now she will definitely spread the word about Tristan to all her girlfriends.
Which was just what Tristan wanted.
He didn't save her to save someone—this was all a plan to build his reputation!
It was an idea Tristan came to when he thought about advancing his criminal rank.
Smaller gangs, like Mark's, were relatively easy to join—it was all about finding them and convincing a person or two. But Tristan didn't want or need to be a part of something so small.
He aimed at bigger gangs, ones that did actual business in this city. Ones that had big money.
But they didn't accept just anyone from the street, not for any meaningful position at least. You had to prove yourself to them, show that you aren't a rival spy or an undercover cop, or simply someone who doesn't know shit.
Tristan could've approached one of these organizations, but even then he'd be a common soldier in the ranks for who knew how long.
Thus, Tristan decided to grow his reputation first.
As long as he beats the scums on the street, eventually people will recognize him as someone strong. And since these people were pieces of shit which even the criminals would look down at, the risk of offending the wrong person was minimal.
Eventually, Tristan was going to get his chance to join the ranks of someone worthwhile. Until then, he was going to grind his Pop-star points.
***
Next day.
In the early morning, Tristan spent two hours in the gym.
After that, he spent four hours learning guitar songs and wishing he also had an electronic keyboard at home.
He reheated himself frozen lasagna for lunch, nostalgically remembering the hired cook in the Hayes family mansion.
In the evening, Tristan planned to spend four more hours beating people up again. But before that, he had another thing to do.
Something important before his new job will eat up more of his time.
Tristan had to record a video.
He bought a microphone, but only had his laptop and phone camera. The former had much better image quality.
Tristan moved his laptop and microphone around the apartment, trying to find a good angle and background. Eventually, he pointed the camera at the window and placed a chair in the place with the best lighting.
There, Tristan sat with his cheap electronic guitar.
One day, he would compose his own songs. But for now, he was simply going to sing a cover on another famous rock song he knew.
The song wasn't one he was the most familiar with, but after listening to it once online, Tristan felt like it was going to be perfect to set off his career.
He set the camera and microphone to record, put the spare 20 PP into his guitar skill—it was 145 by now—and began playing.
When his voice slipped from the high note, Tristan began again.
A slip on the guitar tempo—again.
Again.
[Ding!]
[Singing skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.]
[Ding!]
[Playing guitar skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.]
Again.
Again!
[Ding!]
[Singing skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.]
[Ding!]
[Playing guitar skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.]
[Ding!]
[Stage presence skill increased by 1. Reward: your CP increased by 10.]
Tristan's fingers hurt, but he never stopped. He even abandoned his evening plans, playing the same song over and over until the late evening.
He had to achieve the closest he could to perfection.
But when it was almost night, Tristan decided that this time… It would do.
He stretched his tired limbs, shook his fingers, and went to check the footage.
There was still a lot of work with editing the video before it could be published, and Tristan was an absolute noob in that sort of thing.
After dinner, he edited the video late into the night, and even then, he was surprised by a sudden notification.
[Ding!]
[You gained a new skill—video editing. Reward: 100 CP!]
Taking this as a good sign, Tristan created a YouTube channel and posted the final result there.
On that video, Tristan Gemello was sitting near the window. It was late, so the room and his face were slightly shadowed, creating an aura of mystique around him.
Tristan, with his fake leather jacket and torn jeans, really looked like a bad boy with a handsome face and a hidden heart of gold—the kind that any girl would run off with.
And the guitar only increased the impression.
This was was a beautiful song, originally performed by a beautiful woman. Tristan's voice put an entirely different spin on it. If before it was a song about a kind of man to swipe a girl from her feet at sunset and leave in the sunrise, now it seemed like the song was about a woman.
A woman who swept Tristan from his feet.
And Tristan's feelings as he sang were genuine—but the woman the song was for was music itself.
Music and power, those were his muses, intertwined by money! No other could compete.
Satisfied by what he saw in the video, Tristan closed the laptop and went to sleep, so he could see the reaction of people to his video in the morning.