A month later.
It was frustrating that even another month later, Tristan still didn't complete his third task.
His second task was to get a new concert venue, which he had finished a while ago for 5000 CP. Ilom did good on his promise and gave Tristan and Derek a date.
The third task, priority-wise, in Tristan's list was to "complete the restructuring of the King Lion Gang and move its main HQ to Los Angeles."
The former part, by that point, was complete. The allies from Los Angeles became Tristan's new underbosses (while still focusing on LA affairs), while Martinez, Leon Clavon and Dagoberto worked in their city, splitting between them the existing territories.
After some thought, Tristan kept James as his underboss, too, despite his earlier worry about him being an unstable addict. Drugs or no, James showed himself to be effective. (But privately, between them, Tristan threatened to throw James out if he let substances affect his judgment.)
There were some tensions between "old" and "new" underbosses, but since they didn't cross paths too often, it was bearable. There was more tension between LA underbosses, but Tristan did a good job fixing it with his speeches, and not just that.
He had been giving the underbosses assignments together whenever he could, trying to build rapport little by little. Tristan encouraged the underbosses to do the same with their people.
It all led to a few fights among low-ranked gangsters, but also to new friendships, so Tristan considered it a win.
And money began flowing steadily with all the new people involved. The weapon and drug trade was growing by day, together with King Lion Gang's wealth.
There was only one problem.
'Fucking cops...'
Tristan read the report about a recently raided warehouse and a lost shipment of smuggle-ready weapons with a scowl.
They've been too active ever since their failed operation. Their detectives have been following King Lion Gang's steps like hounds.
Now, in order to trade anything at all and not be arrested, Tristan's people had to be on the move constantly. Warehouses had to be vacated before anyone could come and find evidence in them, and safehouses changed addresses every week (still within gang-owned property).
It was expensive and stressful, but was the only way to stay safe from the police in Los Angeles.
However, Tristan couldn't move his permanent office and headquarters to Los Angeles if there was no safe space for them!
They couldn't be constantly transferred. It was bad enough that his underbosses had to hide in various rat holes most of the time. Damien had actually moved his headquarters to a boat.
"You're all ready, Mr. Gemello."
Derek chose that moment to walk inside the room. He was trying to hide agitation behind the smile.
"Mr. Gemello! Are you ready? Your time is in five minutes. You should go toward the stage already."
Unlike Derek, Tristan was MUCH better at hiding his anxiety.
This was something he dreamed about as a child. No, that was something he EXPECTED to do one day. His car accident made the expectation become a bitter, unachievable dream.
Then the Second Identity System appeared, and it became a goal.
Tristan let out a long breath and stood up.
"Sure."
Backstage, Nelson was pacing in circles; at Tristan's appearance, he lit up.
"Tristan! You are making it. Go there, slay! Or, what's the right saying..."
"It's 'Break a leg', Mr. Mayar," Derek said.
"That one!"
"As long as it's not mine," Tristan joked, prompting Nelson to a nervous laughter.
"Two more minutes," the stage technician said.
"People already love you and your songs, Mr. Gemello. You can do it."
Tristan just nodded and counted seconds in his head.
In two more minutes...
"Show time."