Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Waves sloshed rhythmically on the sandy shore. Sun was high in the sky, forcing Tristan to squint at things to not be blinded by it. Slight breeze rustled grass and bushes growing around.

The light jacket Tristan wore over his T-shirt was a poor choice of clothing for the weather, but he could hide his gun in the inner pocket of it.

There was a cavern in the steep slope of the shore, small enough to see all of it from the outside, but big enough to fit several people and a boat. It was currently empty.

Not a sign of another person, and not a touch of anyone's gaze on Tristan's skin. He frowned.

'If the smugglers decide to not show up, it will be very troublesome…'

He had a backup plan, but it didn't stop him from worrying. But he forced those feelings aside.

"They aren't here yet, but the time of meeting wasn't very specific," Tristan declared to his group. "We will wait until dark, but not here—somewhere more out of sight."

He pointed at the thick vegetation above the hidden beach.

People whom Tristan took with him on this operation were some of his most trusted and most reliable. Cutout and Sam have proved themselves more than once; Kund and Decker were recommended to him by his underbosses, but they were loyal, too. Tristan could see it.

Neither of them wanted to sit in insect-filled bushes, but neither of them complained about Tristan's orders.

'Good thing we brought insect repellent with us,' Tristan thought.

Leaves and tall grass hid Tristan and his team from view as they waited. The most interesting thing that happened in an hour was Cutout reflexively stabbing a lizard that tried to climb his leg.

Eventually, Tristan noticed a spot of black on the sea's blue.

"I will check if those are our guys, but we will have to meet them together. They won't trust to approach unless they are sure we aren't ambushing them," Tristan whispered to his team. "Do nothing remotely aggressive without my command, but be ready, just in case."

Although his men didn't have guns, they had knives bought in a local store. Bad choice for a gunfight, but better than nothing.

Tristan walked out onto the shore with fake nonchalance, put his hands in his pockets, and waited. Soon, he could see the faces of the two people steering the boat.

It was a small fishing motorboat with a white sail, which it was currently using to move. There was a roof that hid most of the interior, but it was big enough for about five people and maybe some cargo.

The smugglers themselves were dark-skinned and sun-weathered despite not being older than 30. They wore their handguns in visible holsters on their chests and had their hands close to them.

Tristan remembered the marine hand signals Damien had instructed him about and waved his hands in the smugglers' password.

One of them stood on the nose of the boat and raised his hands straight, then waved them left and right in another series of signals. Then he pointed somewhere behind Tristan.

'Yeah, we got you, but is the shore clear?' Tristan translated them as.

"Come out, guys," Tristan threw to his team.

Only after Tristan's team gathered around him, smugglers approached the shore and pushed the boat halfway out onto the sand.

From this close, Tristan could see lines of relationships reaching from them to somewhere inside the boat. There were more people here.

<You must be the one they called 'the Big Cat'. I thought you'd be, ha-ha, bigger,> the leader of smugglers said in Spanish with a smirk. <You know the language, yeah? Will be awkward for you if you don't.>

Tristan didn't raise to the bait. He saw through him—the man was only doing this because he was intimidated by Tristan's aura. He didn't expect Tristan to have so much presence.

<I can speak Spanish fine. Did you bring the goods?>

<Yeah, but did you bring the money?>

"Sam, the money."

The man took off his backpack and pulled out several wads of prepared cash. The smugglers' eyes shone greedily.

<Nice, nice…>

<Now show us the goods,> Tristan said, narrowing his eyes at them.

Both of them jolted slightly, before straightening even more to cover for their fear with more aggressive posturing.

<Sure! Boys, show them the goods!> the leader said toward the insides of the boat.

Two more men came out, carrying four large canvas bags to the shore, then went back and returned with two AK-47 rifles that they pointed at Tristan's people.

It was a proof of their loyalty and obedience that no one pulled out a knife yet.

The other two smugglers pulled out their guns, too, but didn't raise them.

<The goods! Guns and rifles, just like ours, with plenty of ammo, are in those bags. Just look! And here are the more explosive parts you wanted…>

He opened one of the bags, showing that he wasn't lying. Guns and materials Tristan was going to use to craft a bomb.

Tristan glared at the smuggler.

<What is this all about?> he asked with annoyance.

<We are haggling. We are changing the price to "all the cash you have", guys. But we are nice enough to still give you the wares instead of taking that cash from your corpses, so…> the smuggler leader waved his gun encouragingly.

Behind him, Tristan's people were tense and ready to fight. He could almost hear them wondering about his next command.

Tristan forced himself to only grit his teeth inwardly. Outwardly, he showed no fear or worry.

'We can't get into a fight with one gun against four at this stage of the plan. If one of my people, or even I, gets wounded—things will be much harder down the line. But we need money, too—we can't just withdraw from bank cards, it's too conspicuous. Those greedy bastards…'

[New task: teach the smugglers how to do business. Value: 200.]

Tristan was going to get out of this.