Gangster to Idol

"You should learn to enjoy the attention, C.C. You're going to have to deal with it once you're famous anyway."

C.C. shook his head. "I'm not there yet."

"Soon," Felice corrected, her tone suddenly serious. "Soon you'll be in a place where hiding behind a cap and a mask won't be enough."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

He didn't reply to that. The truth of her words sank in, a heavy reminder of what was coming. He wasn't just a nobody anymore.

The more RRR drew its conclusion, the harder it was going to be to walk the streets without being recognized. And part of him wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

They reached the mall, in one piece. Felice led him toward a fancy restaurant tucked away in one of the quieter corners. "Here," she said, smiling up at him. "This place is perfect."

Cain raised an eyebrow. "I don't have enough for this. I only have canteen money."

Felice chuckled, the sound light and effortless. "Don't worry about it. I'll cover everything."

Cain paused for a moment, then shrugged. "If you insist." His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, like he didn't care enough to argue.

Cain wasn't one to turn down a free meal, especially if she was offering without hesitation.

Besides, if she was playing the role of benefactor, he'd let her—no skin off his back.

Felice tugged him through the doors, and before he knew it, they were seated at a table by the window, menus in hand.

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They removed their masks and hats, feeling more secure now that they were inside the restaurant.

Cain had noticed it immediately—the subtle presence of Felice's bodyguards. They were discreet but efficient, forming an invisible wall around the two, ensuring that no one would dare interrupt or snap a secret picture.

"Don't mind them," Felice said, casually flipping through the menu. "Soon enough, you'll have your own security detail once you're famous."

Cain gave a slight smirk, but his thoughts drifted. The idea of fame, of constantly being followed and watched—it wasn't something he'd considered deeply before.

Sure, Fifi had always pushed him toward that idol life, but this . . . this was a different reality altogether. Was he really ready for that? To live under a microscope?

Once the waiter left with their orders, Felice leaned back in her seat, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "You don't honestly believe I dragged you all the way here just to have lunch, do you?"

Cain took a sip of water, maintaining his calm. "Of course not," he replied smoothly, locking eyes with her. "I know you better than that."

Felice's smile deepened, her eyes glinting as she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a soft, almost syrupy tone. "I know who you really are, Charles Corn—or should I say, Cain Cross?"

Cain's grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly. He didn't flinch, but inside, the name hit like a lightning bolt.

There it was—his real name, his real identity, spoken aloud by someone who wasn't supposed to know. He placed the glass down, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back in his chair, sizing her up.

Felice's smile didn't falter; in fact, it grew wider as if she was savoring the tension in the air. "I've done my homework," she continued, her voice dripping with amusement. "You think I wouldn't dig a little deeper into you?"

The real question was, why would she do such a thing?

Cain's heartbeat quickened, but he kept his face impassive. His mind was racing, calculating his next move, but outwardly he remained composed, cool as ice.

"And what are you planning to do with that information?" His voice was low, dangerous, yet controlled.

Felice leaned in even closer, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made it clear she wasn't playing games. "Oh, don't worry," she whispered. "I'm not here to expose you. I'm not even going to ask you why a gangster leader wanted to enter showbiz. In fact, I think we could be . . . partners of sorts. You're the leader of CROSS right?

Cain studied her for a long moment, his mind processing every possible angle. She was dangerous in her own way—charming, manipulative, and too clever for her own good.

But Cain had always known how to navigate dangerous waters. His lips twisted into a half-smile, though his thoughts remained guarded.

"So, what's your plan?" he asked, crossing his arms, the weight of the situation settling in. "You keep my secret, and I owe you something in return? That's how this works?"

Felice shrugged, the playful air returning. "Something like that. But let's not think of it as 'owing.' Let's think of it as mutual benefit."

"And what do you get out of this little partnership?" he asked, his voice steady masking the storm brewing inside.

Felice's smile softened, but her eyes gleamed with something darker beneath the surface. "Nothing much. I just want you to handle some business—gangster business," she said, her voice dropping slightly.

"There's a group of fakes operating in your territory. They're pretending to be part of the Silver Serpents, tarnishing our reputation. As you might already know, I'm Carl Richardson's daughter, also known as Cobra."

Cain's eyes narrowed at the mention of the notorious Cobra, the leader of one of the most dangerous and influential gangs in District 3. He knew the weight that name carried, and now, the fact that Felice was tied to that legacy made things even more serious.

She continued, her voice steady but tinged with irritation. "I've got a certain position in the gang—one that requires me to manage and protect our image. And I can't allow anyone to trash it. Not in your territory, not anywhere. These impostors need to be dealt with."

Cain sat back, listening intently. He had noticed some trouble brewing around District 4, in his territory, but to think that there were people masquerading as Silver Serpents?

"Are you saying that these people are using the name of the Silver Serpents to ruin your gang's reputation?" he asked, his voice low and deliberate.

Felice nodded, her eyes darkening further. "Exactly. We've got enemies everywhere. It's not just in District 4—they're spread across other districts too. Though my father's gang is powerful, these impostors hide well. We're too busy handling bigger things to hunt them down personally. That's where you come in."

Cain's thoughts raced. He had known something was off in his turf, but this?

"So, you want me to partner with you to eliminate them?" Cain asked, his voice slipping into a more familiar gangster drawl, the one he'd buried deep since starting his idol journey.

Felice grinned, sensing his shift in tone. "That's right. You know your territory better than anyone. This will be easy for someone like you to find them. In return, I keep your little secret safe, and we both get something out of it. I protect my family's name, and you rid your turf of these posers."

Cain leaned forward, his gaze sharp as a knife. "And how do I know they're not your people? How do I know they're really fakes?"

Felice's smile didn't waver. She leaned in closer, her voice a whisper now, rich with confidence. "The real Silver Serpents would never set foot in your territory without my approval. If they're there, Cain, they're posers. You have one month to take them out. And if you can, find out who's pulling their strings."

A low chuckle escaped Cain's lips as he crossed his arms, sizing up the situation. "That's it?" he asked, a glint of challenge in his eyes.

"That's it," she confirmed with a smile.

Cain stared her down for a long moment, his mind calculating the risks and rewards. This wasn't just a simple favor—it was an unspoken alliance, a dangerous one at that.

Felice held the upper hand now, and Cain couldn't deny it. He had nothing to use against her, no cards left to play. She had all the leverage, and he knew that in time, she might exploit that advantage.

But right now, it didn't matter. Eliminating these impostors had become his priority.

These fakes had overstayed their welcome in District 4, stirring trouble in his territory for too long. They dared to play games on his turf, hiding behind a name that didn't belong to them.

The Silver Serpents, or whoever these impostors claimed to be, were about to learn a hard lesson.

There was no room for mercy. The streets of District 4 were his, and anyone who dared disrupt that balance would pay the price in blood.

Finally, with a slow nod, he spoke, his voice dropping to a dark, almost sinister whisper. "Alright, Felice. I'll take care of your problem. I'll eliminate these posers. But you'd better keep your end of the bargain—keep my identity hidden."

Felice's grin widened, satisfaction glimmering in her eyes. "I always keep my promises."

Suddenly, a familiar chime echoed in Cain's mind.

[HIDDEN MISSION unlocked! Felice's Request: Eliminate the 10 posers in your territory. REWARDS: 1000 Idol Points. Felice Affection Raise to the next level]

Cain froze for a second, his eyebrows furrowing.

Affection? He scowled. Normally, the system only rewarded him with Idol Points or stat boosts.

But affection? This was new.

"What the hell is that?" he muttered under his breath, glancing around as if Fifi would appear to explain. But she wasn't here—his idol-goddess companion was undergoing some mysterious 'upgrade,'