Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System Chapter 216 In a trap

'Where does that sound co from?' Tristan thought in alarm.

The clutter made it harder to distinguish the origins of it. There were at least half a dozen dynamics, all of them hidden from the direct eye.

Cutout already had a gun in one hand and a knife in another, but there was no one to attack.

"Cutout, this is a sound trap! Quickly, close your ears!" Tristan ordered.

His subordinate fumbled with his weapons to obey, but the sound from the dynamics rose in volu in response. It blasted Tristan and Cutout's ears, even through the palms they put over them.

"Pathetic! This won't work, Tristan Hayes. And you, 'Cutout'—is Hayes really such a good leader, you poor man? How often did he send you to take bullets in his stead? There will be another one soon. Lay down your weapons! Surrender! Give up! Leave alive!"

The words carried with themselves a weight of great authority. It was sothing Tristan felt almost physically pushing him down. The words were spoken with infliction of soone who spoke The Law; and the brief speech itself had an unnaturally compelling quality to it.

It was a voice that could make a person obey even the most strange or suicidal order. It was a voice that could make a soldier go into a suicidal attack, or an enemy drop their weapons.

The palms did little to muffle the infernal level of the sound, and nothing to block the words from reaching Tristan's mind.

It beca hard for him to think about what he was doing before. His body, bypassing his conscious mind, wanted to put Tristan's weapons on the floor and kneel.

'No! This is Michael's trap. The entire setup with the cara… For how long he had been watching and waiting for us to appear?' Tristan thought through the weight of hostile authority. 'And he knows about , too! How much?'

Despite the racing thoughts in his head, Tristan couldn't move from his spot. It was too much. All he could do was to appear calm, despite feeling zero calm at all.

But it was just an act, and this wasn't a situation where he could fake until he made it.

Next to Tristan, Cutout fell to his knees. His hands were still clutching his ears.

Michael didn't stop talking for a mont, repeating his words over and over like a chant. But after a short while, the content of this chant changed.

"You have lost already! You are in my territory. Only one person will leave this place. Kill each other! Kill! Kill!"

Tristan saw that the thread between Cutout and him was still bright with blue, but despite it, he saw the man's hands reach for his weapons again.

Tristan wanted to kill, too. Michael, specifically. Anger was rising in him like a wave. He grabbed his knife.

Ti slowed down around him as pumping of the adrenaline-filled blood pounded in Tristan's ears. In this stretched-out mont on the edge of the blade, Tristan could finally think clearly.

'Ass-Angel keeps talking and talking… I bet as soon as we stop listening, his influence will weaken significantly. Cutout is absolutely loyal to —he resists Ass-Angel's urging even now. I have to stop the sound! And…'

Tristan's attention went to the cara that still watched him.

'If Ass-Angel is watching this right now, if the ssages aren't recordings—then I can track him from here! In making this trap, he gave a trail to follow!'

This was the thought Tristan needed to find reserves of willpower in himself. His victory and revenge on Michael were near.

'Just one push!'

The ti resud moving with normal speed.

"SHUT UP!" Tristan shouted, swinging the knife at the cables running around the floor.

He cut several at once, creating a few cracks and sparks of electricity—but the knife's handle was covered in rubber, protecting Tristan himself.

Two of the dynamics in the room went quiet. The pressure on Tristan beca just a little lighter imdiately. The weight of Michael's words didn't lessen, but at least the volu went down.

"F-fucking hell…" Cutout swore. "B-boss…"

Despite Tristan's efforts, he was standing up with his own knife and gun pointing at Tristan. Even in this situation, his hands weren't shaking.

But his finger wasn't on the trigger.

'This isn't enough—but I know what will be!' Tristan thought. The realizations ca to him easier now that his brain was only blasted with sound at 70% of previous volu.

"Hold on, Cutout!" Tristan shouted. "Listen only to ! We have to turn off the dynamics!"

Tristan's trained voice easily carried even through the volu of several dynamics remaining. The hypnotic quality of it clashed with the oppressive authority of Michael's voice, negating it for a second.

The effect was like two large waves crashing together to turn each other into ssy ripples on the water.

It was all Tristan needed to breathe with full chest again.

"Unplug the dynamics, Cutout!" Tristan repeated. "Don't stop listening to !"

"Yes, boss!" Cutout shouted, imdiately obeying.

He went to dig into the piles of clutter, while Tristan went straight for the cara that was watching them.

'If I want to track Ass-Angel, I have to do it before he cuts off the connection and gets out of here again,' Tristan thought.

In his backpack was a set of tools—he quickly pulled them out and reached for the cara. It was modern enough to have a wireless Internet connection, although it was installed with cables.

Tristan kept loudly talking to Cutout, although his mind wasn't on his words at all. With the back of his head, he could sense that Cutout wasn't looking (or aiming) at him, which was enough.

He got his phone and began hacking Michael's cara, ignoring the pressure of its gaze.

Tristan also ignored everything Michael was chanting at him and Cutout—until he heard his full na again.

"TRISTAN HAYES! Stop this—stop this, or your family won't see the end of the week alive!"